I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

It was time to steal Briseis, and I knew this task demanded utmost precision. Even with the borrowed power of Thetis coursing through me, failure wasn’t an option. The stakes were too high, and the consequences too dire if I made a mistake.

So, I resorted to what I had become adept at: watching and waiting. Patience was my weapon, and reconnaissance my shield. I had already spent time studying the Greek camp, mapping out its layout and routines. Agamemnon’s tent was particularly well-guarded, a testament to his lingering paranoia after my previous uninvited visit. The increased security was almost laughable—clearly, I had left a lasting impression.

Even so, with Thetis’s power, slipping into Agamemnon’s tent was trivial. Cloaked in invisibility, I moved like a shadow, silent and unseen. The problem wasn’t entering the tent; it was escaping with Briseis. The invisibility, while formidable, extended only to me. I couldn’t extend it to her, and carrying her out in plain sight was an invitation to disaster.

Truthfully, I didn’t have to go to such lengths. Stealing Briseis was not essential to my plans, but it was necessary to me. She was Khillea’s only true friend, a tether to her humanity. If I wanted to pull Khillea back from the brink of her insanity—her dangerous obsession with glory and immortal renown—Briseis might be the key. To save her, I needed every piece of leverage I could gather.

The first step was to clear the guards, to lure them away without raising alarms. A diversion was necessary, something grand and terrifying enough to command their full attention. Fortunately, I had just the thing in mind.

Closing my eyes, I focused my thoughts on him. The connection was instantaneous, as if he had been waiting for my call. A knowing smile spread across my lips. This would work.

A low rumble echoed across the night sky, so deep and resonant it seemed to shake the heavens themselves. The sound grew louder, more feral, like a primal roar that resonated in the bones of every man in the camp.

The Greeks stirred uneasily, their heads snapping upward in search of the source.

“Is that Zeus?” one of the soldiers cried, his voice trembling with a mixture of awe and fear.

Another chimed in, desperate to rationalize the phenomenon. “He must be angry at us!”

“No,” a third shouted, his tone more confident, though equally unconvincing. “He’s probably urging us to victory!”

They gazed skyward, their minds scrambling to interpret the noise as a divine message. But it was no message from Zeus. No god of Olympus had orchestrated this. The truth was far more terrifying—and far more unexpected.

The roar intensified, shaking the very earth beneath their feet. A golden dot appeared in the night sky, faint at first but growing rapidly as it approached. The air grew thick with tension as the soldiers watched, their eyes widening in collective horror.

“What… what is that?” one stammered, his voice barely a whisper.

The dot expanded, resolving into a massive, glimmering form. Scales that gleamed like molten gold reflected the firelight of the camp, and massive wings beat against the wind with a force that sent ripples across the tents.

“A DRAGON!” someone screamed, his voice breaking into a panic. The cry spread like wildfire, and chaos erupted in the camp. Men stumbled over each other, tripping and falling as they tried to scramble to safety. One soldier fell flat on his backside, pointing skyward with a trembling hand. Others followed suit, their courage evaporating in the face of the monstrous creature descending upon them.

The dragon’s roar reached a deafening crescendo, drowning out the cries of terror. I couldn’t help but smirk at the chaos unfolding below. The Greeks believed themselves invincible, chosen by the gods to carve their glory into history. And yet, here they were, reduced to quivering mortals by the appearance of a single dragon.

I had intended to keep him a secret, a card to be played only when absolutely necessary. But there was no harm in letting the Greeks believe they were at the mercy of Zeus or some other divine force. Fear was a powerful weapon, and tonight, I wielded it to perfection.

“Drakkias, burn as many Greeks as you like, but prioritize their ships. Target the ones in the sea and hold them off for just a few minutes,” I sent the telepathic command to my dragon.

A resonant roar ripped through the heavens, shaking the earth below as Drakkias acknowledged my order. The Greeks shuddered in collective terror, their courage faltering beneath the dragon’s might.

Drakkias spread his massive golden wings and dove, unleashing a torrent of flames that turned the camp into a fiery inferno. Tents, supplies, and men disintegrated in the blazing onslaught. Careful to remain distant from my position, the dragon made its presence impossible to ignore.

“Kill it!”

“Call for Odysseus!”

The camp erupted into chaos as soldiers scrambled to arm themselves. Shouts and cries of the burning Greeks filled the night, but I pushed the cacophony aside. Activating Thetis’s magic, I vanished from sight and moved toward Agamemnon’s tent.

The diversion was working; most of the guards had left their posts. Only two remained stationed outside the tent. Ignoring them, I circled to the rear and slipped in through a small opening.

A rancid stench assaulted my senses, the mingled odor of sweat, sex, and despair. The muffled cries of a woman reached my ears, setting my teeth on edge.

Inside, the scene was as vile as I had imagined.

Agamemnon stood naked, his focus not on the destruction wrought by the dragon but on the woman pinned beneath him on the table. She was a Trojan slave, her broken spirit evident in her lifeless eyes and slack expression. Muffled groans escaped her as Agamemnon continued his vile conquest, oblivious to anything beyond his own pleasure.

My gaze shifted to the corner of the tent, where I found Briseis. She sat curled into herself, her arms wrapped around her knees as she sobbed quietly. Her hands pressed firmly against her ears in a futile attempt to block out the sounds of the woman’s suffering. Tears streamed down her face, and though she had not yet descended into the same hollowed state as the slave, her anguish was unmistakable.

“Lord Agamemnon! The dragon is destroying our boats!” A guard burst into the tent, panting and wide-eyed.

Agamemnon growled, irritation flashing across his face as he reluctantly released the woman. “Bunch of fools. Can’t even hold off a dragon for two minutes,” he spat.

He grabbed his trousers and began donning his armor with hurried movements. As he turned to leave, his gaze lingered on Briseis. A cruel smirk twisted his features.

“Are you wet enough for today?” His voice dripped with malice.

Briseis whimpered, shaking her head violently as she pressed her hands harder against her ears. “Leave me alone…” she sobbed.

Agamemnon chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. “Don’t worry. I think I’ve trained you enough for now. Soon, I’ll satisfy that thirsty little cunt of yours myself.”

Briseis didn’t answer. She buried her face deeper into her knees, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs.

Agamemnon laughed, a callous sound that reverberated in the enclosed space. “Keep an eye on her,” he commanded as he strode out of the tent.

“Yes, my king!” the two guards replied, stepping inside.

Their eyes fell on the Trojan woman sprawled across the table, her body limp and unmoving. One of them sneered. “Look at this. Agamemnon is really enjoying himself.”

The other chuckled darkly. “A shame my own slave broke so quickly. Guess I’ll need to pick up another one when we raid the nearby villages.”

Disgust churned in my stomach, but I didn’t hesitate. The moment their attention wavered, I struck. My blade sang through the air, cleanly severing their heads. The lifeless bodies collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, their blood pooling rapidly and creeping toward Briseis, who cowered in the corner.

I deactivated Thetis’s invisibility magic, allowing myself to appear before her. Briseis flinched at the sight of the carnage and shrank back, fear etched into her every feature.

“We have to leave,” I said, stepping closer and extending a hand.

She shook her head frantically, her whole body trembling. Agamemnon had shattered her spirit.

“Do you remember me?” I asked, pulling off my Spartan helmet to reveal my face.

Her tear-streaked eyes darted up to meet mine, searching my features. Recognition slowly dawned in her expression. “Th-the man… with Khillea… Nathan?” she whispered, her voice fragile but clear.

I nodded. “Yes. I’m here to take you away—from here, from him, back to Troy.”

Her lips parted, disbelief mingling with the faint flicker of hope in her eyes. “Is… is that true?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“Yes,” I affirmed, my tone firm and steady. I reached into my satchel and pulled out a hooded cloak. “Here, wear this over your head. We don’t have much time.”

Her gaze darted nervously toward the tent’s entrance. “No… no, Agamemnon… he will—”

“He won’t do anything,” I interrupted, my voice resolute. I crouched before her, meeting her gaze with all the seriousness I could muster. “I promise you. Trust me.”

Briseis hesitated, her fingers clutching the edges of her torn dress. Then, with trembling hands, she reached out and accepted the cloak.

She attempted to stand, but the chains binding her wrists and ankles rattled, holding her in place. Without hesitation, I swung my sword again, shattering her restraints.

“There. You’re free now,” I said.

But when she tried to rise, her legs gave out beneath her. She crumpled back to her knees, her body quivering with exhaustion and fear.

“Hold onto me,” I said gently. Sliding my arm beneath her, I lifted her onto my shoulder with care, making sure not to aggravate her bruises or wounds.

Briseis let out a soft gasp but didn’t resist. Her fingers clutched the fabric of my armor as I stepped toward the rear of the tent.

With Thetis’s magic reactivated, I vanished from sight once more, slipping past the chaos outside. The roars of Drakkias and the panicked cries of the Greeks filled the night, covering our escape as I carried Briseis away.

“Drakkias,” I called through our telepathic link.

Above the Greek camps, the dragon roared in acknowledgment, its massive wings beating as it ascended from the fiery remains of the Greek fleet. Smoke and flames curled into the night sky, mingling with the terrified screams of soldiers.

Drakkias swooped low, scattering the panicked Greeks below. Their once-fearsome cries turned to frantic shouts as they scrambled to avoid the shadow of the great beast.

As Drakkias descended toward me, I leapt effortlessly onto his back, carefully placing Briseis before me. Her eyes widened in utter disbelief, her entire body stiffening as she beheld the creature beneath her. It was Dragon and worse it was obeying me after all.

With a subtle command, Drakkias beat his wings and ascended into the night sky, carrying us away from the chaos below.

From the ground, a furious voice bellowed. “Who are you?!”

I glanced down to see Agamemnon standing amidst his commanders—Odysseus, Menelaus, Heracles, and Chiron. Their gazes burned into me, a mix of fury and disbelief as they realized who was slipping away from their grasp.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept past, dislodging the hood over Briseis’s head. Her face, pale and haunted, was now fully visible to the men below.

Agamemnon’s face contorted into an expression of shock, then rage. His jaw tightened, and his fists clenched as if he could crush the air itself.

Hovering above them atop Drakkias, I looked down coldly. Our gazes locked for a fleeting moment—his fury burning like an inferno, mine like ice.

“I WILL KILL YOUUUUUUU!”