The throne room buzzed with the murmur of conversations. Aristocrats, emissaries, and delegates from various Greek city-states mingled, their richly adorned garments reflecting the flickering torchlight. King Cereus sat on his gilded throne, his expression one of pride as he surveyed the assembly. Exotic gifts surrounded him—golden chalices from Thrace, rare spices from Thebes, intricate weapons from Sparta, and luxurious silks from Athens.
The grand doors opened, and all eyes turned as Princess Andromeda entered the room, Diomedes a step behind her. Her radiant smile faltered as she took in the crowd, not expecting such a gathering. The king, noticing her, gestured warmly.
"Andromeda, my dear daughter," King Cereus announced, his voice carrying across the room, "come, meet the esteemed guests who have traveled far to seek your hand in marriage."
Andromeda hesitated, glancing at Diomedes, who gave her an almost imperceptible nod of reassurance. She moved forward, regal and poised, though her mind raced.
The delegates stood one by one to introduce themselves.
Prince Rhesus of Thrace, the first to rise, exuded confidence as he stepped forward. "Princess Andromeda, I am Rhesus, son of King Sitalces of Thrace. My father sends his regards and this gift—a necklace of gold and emeralds from the mines of Mount Pangaion."
Andromeda offered a polite smile as Rhesus handed over the ornate necklace, his eyes lingering on her.
One by one, the other princes followed suit, each presenting their gifts and boasting of their kingdoms' wealth and power. A prince of Athens offered an ivory lyre said to have belonged to Orpheus. The Spartan prince brought a set of armor forged by their finest smiths.
Diomedes stood silently at the back, watching the proceedings. His sharp eyes caught the subtle delight on King Cereus's face as the gifts piled up. The king's ambitions were transparent to him—this wasn't just about Andromeda's marriage; it was about securing Argos's influence through powerful alliances.
When the last prince had introduced himself, King Cereus rose, his voice full of satisfaction. "Noble princes, your presence honors Argos. Your gifts speak of the strength and generosity of your kingdoms. I must confess, the decision will not be easy. You are all welcome to stay in Argos as my guests until I make my choice."
The room buzzed with approval, but the moment was interrupted by Andromeda's voice.
"Father, may I speak?"
The room quieted. King Cereus looked at her with mild surprise. "Of course, my daughter. What is it?"
Summoning her courage, Andromeda stepped forward. Her voice was steady, though her hands clenched nervously at her sides.
"I wish to invoke the ancient right of agōn gamikos," she declared.
A collective gasp rippled through the room. The agōn gamikos—the marital contest—was a rarely used tradition, where suitors or their chosen champions would compete in a series of trials to win the right to marry.
"Andromeda," the king began, his tone a mix of confusion and caution, "are you certain? This is no trivial matter."
"I am certain," she replied firmly, then turned to address the assembled princes. "To all those who seek my hand, I declare this: I have chosen my champion, Diomedes."
All eyes turned to Diomedes, who froze in place, disbelief written across his face. He blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly.
"If my champion wins," Andromeda continued, her voice unwavering, "there will be no marriage. But if any of your champions prevail, I will marry the prince whose champion is victorious."
The room erupted into murmurs, some shocked, others amused. Rhesus's lips twisted into a smirk, while the Spartan prince raised an eyebrow in intrigue.
King Cereus rubbed his temples, clearly reluctant. But the agōn gamikos, once invoked, could not be ignored. He sighed deeply and gestured for Diomedes to come forward.
Diomedes hesitated, his mind racing. This was not what he had signed up for. Protecting the princess was one thing—being her champion in a high-stakes contest against the finest warriors of Greece was another entirely.
"Diomedes," the king said, his voice grave, "do you accept this role as the princess's champion?"
Diomedes looked at Andromeda, whose eyes pleaded with him. Then he glanced at the gathered princes, most of whom were already sizing him up with a mix of disdain and anticipation. Finally, he sighed and stepped forward.
"I will do as the princess wishes," he said simply.
King Cereus nodded, though his expression remained troubled. He turned to the assembled princes. "You have heard my daughter's terms. Choose your champions and prepare them well. Let the agōn gamikos begin!"
The princes began discussing among themselves, their voices a mixture of excitement and strategy. Some looked eager, others skeptical.
Rhesus approached Diomedes, his smirk returning. "So, you're the one she's chosen. A servant playing at being a warrior."
Diomedes met his gaze calmly. "I'm no servant. And you'll see soon enough what I am."
The Thracian prince's smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly masked it with a scoff. "We'll see indeed."
Andromeda stepped beside Diomedes, her voice low but firm. "Thank you, Captain. I know this is unexpected, but I believe in you."
Diomedes gave a faint smile, though his mind remained uneasy. "I'll do my best, Princess. Let's hope that's enough."
As the room slowly emptied, preparations for the agōn gamikos began in earnest.
The king's decree for the preparation of the agōn gamikos sent all of Argos into a flurry of activity. Workers toiled day and night to ready the grand amphitheater, a monumental structure carved from limestone and overlooking the sea. Its open arena, flanked by rows of tiered seating, would host the fierce competition. News of the contest spread quickly, drawing citizens and travelers eager to witness the spectacle.
In his quarters within the palace barracks, Diomedes sat on the edge of his bed, the weight of the princess's decision pressing heavily on him. He had never sought the spotlight, content with his modest achievements and survival in this perilous world. Yet, here he was, thrust into the center of a grand event that could shape the fate of Argos.
He sighed, resting his face in his hands. "What was she thinking?" he muttered to himself.
But deep down, he knew he couldn't back out. If there was one thing he refused to do, it was to disappoint those who placed their trust in him—especially Andromeda, who had boldly defied tradition to name him her champion.
"If it were before," he thought, reflecting on his life prior to transmigration, "I'd have run from this responsibility. But not now. Not anymore."
To shake off his doubt, Diomedes accessed his interface, a now-familiar glow filling his vision. He had been diligent over the past month, performing his daily quests with unwavering focus, though he hadn't allocated the points he earned. Now, with the contest looming, it was time to invest.
He reviewed his stats:
Strength: 10 (Limit: 1 ton)
Agility: 10 (Speed: 50 km/h)
Physique: 10
Stamina: 10
Spirit: 6.8
The points he had saved over the month amounted to 3.0, enough to make a meaningful difference. Diomedes deliberated, his fingers hovering over the interface. His goal had always been balance, to become a versatile warrior capable of adapting to any challenge.
"Let's focus on what matters for this fight," he murmured. He allocated 3 points to Spirit, bringing it to 9.8.
The decision felt right. Though his stats were already formidable, he knew the psychological fortitude and heightened perception granted by Spirit would prove invaluable in the upcoming trials.
He closed the interface, the faint glow fading as he leaned back against the wall, gazing at the ceiling.
The night passed quietly, with the sounds of Argos preparing in the background—a constant hum of activity, punctuated by the occasional clang of metal or shouted orders. Diomedes spent the remaining hours methodically checking his weapons and armor, ensuring everything was in peak condition.
As he adjusted the straps of his greaves and ran a whetstone over his blade, a sense of calm washed over him. His stats were more than enough for the challenge ahead. If anything, his enhanced abilities might even seem unfair. But he had no intention of underestimating his opponents, many of whom would be champions from the greatest city-states in Greece.
When his preparations were complete, Diomedes lay down, his mind finally at ease. As sleep claimed him, he thought not of fear but of resolve. Tomorrow, the amphitheater would bear witness to his strength, skill, and the will of the gods—or whatever force governed this world.
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A/N: I am the Author of this novel, this is my very first novel, I have written some fanfic though.
Please, after reading these few chapters, add this novel to your collection, so that I will be able to know the direction to take on this novel.
I appreciate you reading this and expect for you to provide comments so that I could improve my writing.
I will be release between 2-4 chapters a day, sometime I might not, but I will try keep up to your expectations.