Chapter 170: I Will Bear It

Night wind howled, the forest's chill stabbed like a blade.

Chiron leaned against the thick oak, his whole body trembling, cold sweat soaking his mane.

The nine-headed snake's venom ravaged his blood, each heartbeat feeling like sharp claws tearing at his entrails.

His muscles spasmed, his bones seeming to burn in fire, even breathing grew difficult.

"Ugh......"

He clenched his teeth, a low groan forced from his throat.

His fingers dug deep into the nearby trunk, wood splinters piercing his flesh, yet they could not mask the venom's agony.

His pupils contracted, his vision blurred from pain, the world before him twisting into chaos.

Trembling hand reached for his waist pouch, feeling out a bottle of azure liquid.

The liquid in the bottle shimmered with an eerie sheen in the moonlight, as if holding a phantom of another world.

Chiron wasted no time pulling the stopper, tilting his head back to gulp it down.

The icy potion slid down his throat like a winding snake, spreading bone‑deep chill through his body.

At first, the world grew more blurred, only his heavy breathing audible in his ears; then darkness surged like a tide, swallowing his consciousness.

In the chaos, only a faint light emerged.

Chiron's consciousness drifted in the void.

In a daze.

He saw a divine mountain.

He saw a tall figure walking toward the lofty divine mountain.

"They can no longer remain in the endless darkness......"

The low murmur echoed in the vision, so real, so clear.

Chiron's gaze followed that figure, watching him sneak into Olympus' Holy Fire Temple, watching him hide the holy spark in a fennel stalk, watching him return to the human world with the morning dew...

Just as the first spark of fire appeared in the human world, dispelling the darkness...

Suddenly, thunder boomed!

"Prometheus!"

Above the firmament, Zeus' voice thundered:

"You are stealing!"

In the vision, the Titan lifted his head, his face flickering light and dark in the lightning's glare, yet his eyes burned with unyielding fire:

"They huddle in the cold, tremble in the dark, gnaw raw meat, collapse helplessly in plague......"

His voice was not loud, yet each word struck like a hammer, hitting Chiron's soul:

"That is not the fate they deserve!"

A bolt of lightning struck beside Prometheus' feet, sending shards flying. Yet he stood unmoving, continuing to raise his head and say:

"They may be small, but they have the right to struggle, to seek knowledge, rather than merely kneel in darkness, begging the distant heavens for a scrap of pity!"

"Zeus, if you must punish, punish me instead!"

His voice echoed between heaven and earth.

The next moment, the thunder above the firmament grew louder, as if all Olympus raged. Incandescent lightning tore through the clouds like mad serpents, the earth trembled, fierce winds surged!

Chiron's pupils contracted, in the vision he saw——

Beneath Prometheus' feet, blazing flames suddenly rose, red tongues licking his body, yet unable to consume him.

Several black chains shot out of the void, like living things coiling around his limbs, neck, and waist, binding him fast!

Clatter——

The chains straightened, hauling Prometheus violently upward! His figure dwindled amid thunder and flame, finally dragged toward the perpetually snow‑capped perilous peak!

Cry——!

A sharp eagle cry pierced the sky!

Chiron lifted his head, seeing a giant eagle with wings that blotted the sky swoop down from the clouds.

Its hooked beak like a scimitar, its black wings stirring gales, its talons flashing cold light, it lunged straight at the chained Prometheus!

Just as the eagle was about to rend the Titan's chest——

Crack!

The vision shattered with a boom!

"Teacher! Teacher! Are you all right?"

The urgent cries pulled Chiron back to reality.

He slowly opened his eyes; the blinding sunlight made him instinctively narrow them.

Heracles' and Iolaus' faces came into view, both full of worry.

Chiron shook his somewhat dazed head, dew dripping from his mane.

"I'm fine." His voice hoarse, yet he smiled with relief: "Let's go."

"Yes."

Caucasus Mountains.

This mountain range, perpetually shrouded in gloom, looks especially grim in winter.

Leaden skies hang low, as if they might collapse onto the jagged peaks at any moment.

Piercing cold winds howl through the valleys, whipping up fine ice crystals that slap the steep cliffs, emitting wails like ghosts.

At the highest summit, a giant hawk circles low.

Its wingspan reaches ten zhang wide, its black feathers stained with dried blood, its sharp beak edged with fresh strips of flesh.

Whenever it swoops down, its sharp claws scrape the rocks, producing a harsh screech.

But no matter how it circles and dives, those cold eagle eyes remain fixed on the summit—

There, a towering figure is bound by heavy chains at the cliff's edge.

Prometheus!

The Titan god's limbs are pierced by iron chains that will never be broken, anchoring him firmly to the rock face.

A gruesome wound scars his body—left by the giant eagle that pecks his liver each day.

Although he is an immortal deity, the wound heals each night, only to be torn open again after each healing.

Fresh blood runs down his body, solidifying on the cold rock into dark‑red ice crystals.

The three people standing before the mountain all take in the scene.

Heracles shakes the snow from his fur hat, tilting his head toward the cloud‑piercing peak.

The giant eagle flickers in and out of the lead‑gray clouds, each dive raising a shrill screech. He is just about to step forward

A warm palm presses against his shoulder.

"Teacher?" Heracles turns, confusion in his eyes.

Chiron does not look at him.

The centaur Sage's gaze passes the wind and snow, landing on the chained figure atop the mountain.

His voice is soft, yet seems to pierce millennia: "Heracles, I understand."

"What?" Heracles grows more puzzled.

Chiron finally withdraws his gaze.

The face, pale from snake venom, sees its pain gradually fade, replaced by a transcendent calm.

He lifts his hand to brush Heracles's lion‑skin shoulder, as gently as when he taught the young him to shoot arrows years ago.

"The Twelve Trials are the tribulation you must endure," Chiron's voice is gentle:

"And the poison arrow I took from you is also my destined calamity."

The cold wind whips his silver‑white mane, the hairs that once glittered in moonlight now stained with the dust of ages.

"My mission in the Human World... is already fulfilled."

He says, then looks again toward the summit.

Prometheus's silhouette flickers in the wind and snow.

"His punishment has lasted too long, too long."

"I no longer wish to endure the torment of snake venom; I, your teacher, will no longer stubbornly claim I can bear it—it's truly painful," Chiron's mouth lifts in a relieved smile: "So..."

"His punishment, then, I will Bear."