Fated Adventure.

Saeko lay beside me, her chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. A blissful expression graced her flushed face, her body adorned with love bites and faint bruises—marks she wore with satisfaction. She had refused my offer to heal them, insisting that the lingering soreness was a pleasurable reminder of our night.

I chuckled softly, brushing a stray lock of violet hair from her face before slipping out of bed. There was work to be done.

Seated in the quiet of my personal space, I focused on updating the dream space shadows. Data streamed through my mind, converting into tangible improvements—an entire arsenal of techniques absorbed from Madara Uchiha himself. The Sharingan had recorded everything: Taijutsu, Shurikenjutsu, Genjutsu, Ninjutsu, Bukijutsu—every skill and trick Madara had mastered in his lifetime was now at my disposal.

Madara was a true warrior-polymath, excelling in almost every field, and I ensured that knowledge didn't go to waste. Interestingly, a few Tang Sect techniques seamlessly meshed with his fighting style, creating new possibilities. Assassins, ninjas, thieves—different labels, but at their core, they all pursued the same ideals of stealth, lethality, and precision.

Meanwhile, Medea had completely taken over Konan, doting on the blue-haired kunoichi like a mother hen. The girls had wasted no time fussing over her, checking for any lingering health issues.

As for Nagato and Yahiko... well, I had technically kidnapped them.

I had gotten an earful about that, but what else was I supposed to do? Steal Nagato's Rinnegan and abandon him in a war-torn land? That was beyond cruel. And leaving Yahiko behind after taking the other two? That would have been an even bigger dick move.

So, I took responsibility.

At least there were plenty of people in the manor who didn't mind looking after children. Winky was outright ecstatic to have kids running around, and Hestia, ever the maternal goddess, had taken an instant liking to them.

Speaking of Hestia, she was currently pointedly ignoring me.

Her arms were crossed, her lips pursed, and there was an unmistakable pout on her face. I sighed internally. It wasn't hard to guess why—Freya's lingering blessing still clung to me.

Yeah, she was pissed.

I would have to deal with that later.

For now, my focus shifted to my newly acquired Six Paths bodies. While they weren't true clones, they were extensions of me—puppets bound to my will. Their capabilities were impressive, but not limitless. They possessed my physique, the raw physicality of my Heavenly Restriction, and access to my Logia abilities. However, they lacked souls, which meant they couldn't tap into certain things: my Fountain of Youth, my Gate of Babylon, my Martial Spirits—anything intrinsically tied to my essence was off-limits.

Cultivation was another interesting dilemma. While they could cultivate, they would have to start from scratch. My own cultivated energy wouldn't just transfer into them magically. Still, with the right guidance and resources, they could grow into formidable assets.

Nagato and Yahiko, along with their scrappy pet dog, were currently being looked after. Right now, they were just eating, drinking potions, and getting their malnourished bodies up to par before any serious training began. Once they were physically ready, they would start learning basic ninja techniques as they requested.

As for the dog... I had no clue how to train it.

I was always more of a cat person.

~~~~

Arriving at the Hephaestus Familia's grand headquarters, I couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of the massive stone structure. Every inch of the building screamed durability and precision, a reflection of the goddess who presided over it. Next to me, Hestia was still grumbling under her breath, her tiny frame stiff with irritation. Her arms were crossed, and every few steps, she would shoot me a half-hearted glare, probably still annoyed that she had been dragged out of bed so early. I could only sigh in response. It wasn't my fault she had decided to stay up late indulging in snacks and stories.

We were expected, so entry was effortless. The moment we passed through the main hall, several smiths glanced in our direction, momentarily pausing their work to take notice of Hestia. Their eyes quickly shifted to me, but upon recognizing that I was with her, they returned to hammering away at their respective projects. The scent of molten metal and burning coals filled the air, mingling with the rhythmic clang of hammers against anvils. It was a symphony of creation, raw and unfiltered.

Navigating the Familia's halls with ease, we soon arrived at Hephaestus' personal workshop. The moment we stepped inside, I was met with the sight of the goddess of smithing and her right-hand woman, Tsubaki. The latter stood with her arms folded, her muscular build accentuated by the leather apron she wore. Her single visible golden eye, the other covered by a black eyepatch, examined me with keen interest. Hephaestus, on the other hand, was seated at a workbench, her crimson hair tied back as she studied us with measured patience.

"Where are the materials and items?" Hephaestus asked, her voice tinged with restrained expectation. However, there was no mistaking the slight downturn of her lips, betraying a hint of disappointment.

I responded with a confident smile, lifting my hand as the air around it shimmered. With a soft hum of energy, the small multi-colored pagoda appeared in my palm, its structure pulsing with an ethereal glow. "I have a magic workshop we can enter. All of my materials and equipment are there."

Hephaestus' single eye widened in pure, unfiltered fascination. "What is that?" she murmured, leaning forward as if drawn in by the artifact's very presence. "It looks like an artifact, but…" Her hand reached out, fingers inches from touching it, but I pulled it back slightly.

"I'll explain more in a bit," I said, before activating the entrance to my workshop. A brilliant flash of light enveloped us, and in an instant, we were transported to the ninth floor of my personal realm.

Tsubaki, ever the warrior, tensed immediately, her posture shifting into a defensive stance as her sharp gaze swept across the unfamiliar space. Her muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike, though her instincts seemed to tell her that we were not in immediate danger. Hephaestus, however, had no such concerns. The moment her eye took in the sheer variety of tools, devices, and enchanted forges that surrounded us, her breath hitched. Awe flooded her expression, and for the first time since meeting her, I saw a childlike wonder break through her normally composed demeanor.

"Amazing!" Hephaestus breathed, stepping forward as she reached for one of the nearby anvils, her fingers tracing the divine engravings embedded into the metal. "These tools are almost at the divine level!"

However, before she could fully immerse herself in her examination, something unexpected happened. A thick, black mist began to seep from beneath her eyepatch, curling through the air like tendrils of shadow. A cooling sensation spread outward from her covered eye, an unnatural presence that sent a shiver down my spine.

Tsubaki noticed immediately, her head snapping toward her goddess with a mixture of concern and familiarity. "Hephaestus—"

But the goddess merely sighed, closing her eye as if she had already resigned herself to the situation. The curse, I realized. Hephaestus had been cursed by Zeus himself for stealing the eternal flames, an act of defiance that had cost her dearly. The curse inflicted constant pain upon her, a suffering she had endured in silence for centuries. But the true horror of it was what lay beneath the eyepatch—an eye so warped by the divine punishment that anyone who gazed upon it would be struck by overwhelming disgust and terror, as though witnessing something that should not exist in the mortal or divine realm.

Even now, as the black mist leaked from beneath her eyepatch, I could feel the unnatural weight pressing against my senses, like a whisper of madness curling around my mind. Hephaestus' fingers twitched slightly, a barely noticeable reaction that betrayed the agony she was likely experiencing at this very moment.

"I've sought out every god of healing and magic to remove it," Hephaestus said softly, her voice laced with weariness. "Some tried and failed. Others… were too afraid to invite Zeus' wrath."

For the first time since entering, I found my focus shifting entirely to her. Not the tools, not the workshop—just her. A goddess, bound in chains of divine cruelty, left to endure a torment that none had dared to lift. And yet, despite it all, she had continued to create, to build, to forge wonders that shaped the world.

That was Hephaestus. And she deserved more than this curse.

The golden light from the pagoda deepened, the intricate patterns of energy spreading outward like veins of liquid fire. The air itself seemed to hum with life, a resonance that pulsed in harmony with my own energy. This wasn't just an artifact—it was my Martial Spirit, a manifestation of my very essence, imbued with the power of healing and purification. And right now, it was responding to the curse wrapped around Hephaestus.

The black mist recoiled violently, as though an unseen force had struck it. It lashed out in jagged tendrils, trying to resist, but the radiant energy of the pagoda only grew stronger, its multicolored glow shifting toward pure gold. The curse was being purified, burned away by the sheer authority of my Martial Spirit.

Hephaestus gasped, her body trembling as the dark energy was forcibly drawn from beneath her eyepatch. Her fingers dug into her palm, her breathing ragged. For the first time in centuries, the relentless pain had dulled—not entirely gone, but weakened. She blinked rapidly, her visible eye glistening with shock.

"It's… fading," she whispered, voice unsteady. "The pain… it's—"

Before she could finish, another violent pulse of darkness erupted from her eyepatch, this one desperate, primal, as if the curse itself were fighting for its existence. The floor beneath her cracked slightly as residual divine power clashed with my own. Zeus' will was resisting.

Tsubaki had drawn a blade without thinking, her instincts screaming at her to react to the chaotic energy in the air. But I lifted a hand, stopping her. "It won't lash out," I said, my voice steady. "It's just dying, my Martial Spirit is purifying it."

Hephaestus shuddered as another wave of golden light washed over her, sinking deep into the very fibers of her being. The pagoda was analyzing the curse, adapting, counteracting its corruption. The black mist had shrunk significantly now, no longer spreading freely, but collapsing inward, contained by the purifying force surrounding her.

For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, slowly, she lifted a trembling hand to her eyepatch. "I can still feel it… but it's different," she murmured. "The constant burning… it's been pushed back."

Her fingers hovered over the fabric, hesitant. A deep breath. A moment of decision. Then, with deliberate care, she began to remove it.

The moment the eyepatch fell away, a ripple of divine energy surged outward, making the air grow heavy. Tsubaki tensed, prepared for something horrific. But what was revealed wasn't monstrous—not anymore.

Instead of the cursed, grotesque nightmare that had once hidden beneath the patch, her eye was now partially restored. The sclera was no longer sickly black but a shifting mix of crimson and gold, as if the divine flames she had stolen were now flickering within it. The corruption was still there, but contained, weakened, no longer all-consuming.

Tsubaki exhaled sharply, her expression flickering between disbelief and relief. "Hephaestus…"

The goddess of smithing reached up, lightly touching the skin around her eye. For the first time in centuries, there was no pain. Only a cooling sensation, like the embers of a forge after a long day's work.

She turned to me, her single uncovered eye searching my face, filled with something she likely hadn't dared to feel in years—hope.

"This power of yours… this Martial Spirit…" Her voice was hushed, reverent. "It can undo Zeus' curse?"

I smirked slightly, closing my fingers over the glowing pagoda, making the energy retract back into me. "Given time," I said confidently. "Yes. It won't happen overnight, but every time you step into this place, the curse will weaken. Eventually, it'll break entirely."

Hephaestus let out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head. "You're insane," she murmured. Then, more softly, "But… thank you."

Tsubaki let out a short laugh of her own, sheathing her blade. "Well, that's a first," she said, glancing between us. "A man who can out-forge a curse from the King of the Gods himself. You really do know how to make an impression."

I shrugged, but my grin widened. "I prefer results over impressions."

Hephaestus simply stared at me for a long moment before finally smiling—a genuine, unburdened smile.

Even Hestia looked happier than before.

[You see this chapter right here? 2100 words double what I usually post, I got a bit into it. Anyway send Powerstones, Soda Money (Y u no buy me soda?) and pictures of your favorite anime waifu. Cashapp $Ryantheholy]