Something simple. Just a little barbecue.
Eros lit a fire, pulled out an entire slab of lamb ribs, and set it over the flame.
He brushed it with a layer of fat. As the flames licked the meat, it began to sizzle and pop, filling the air with an irresistible aroma.
The mastery of fire was woven through every age of human civilization. It was the beginning of everything.
Long ago, when lightning struck ancient forests and set them ablaze, it was as if the gods themselves had descended from the heavens to gift mankind the seed of fire.
In Greece, at least in the near future, the prophet Prometheus would steal fire from the chariot of the sun god.
He would bring the flame of wisdom to mankind and suffer eternal torment for it, until a hero unmatched in strength came to free him.
But for now… that tale had yet to begin.
So the mantle of fire-bringer and pioneer of human intelligence?
Eros decided he'd take it on himself.
As for whether Zeus would be mad about it?
Who cares?!
Fire Thief, activate!
He sprinkled a crushed mix of herbs and rock salt over the meat, and the fragrance swirled with the wind, spreading outward.
Even Apollo, who had been calmly following behind him, twitched her refined little nose at the scent.
Wasn't this… the exact same dish Father served at the last banquet? The one that won over several other goddesses?
So that's where it came from. He stole it from Eros?! Shameless!
If even the gods, used to every luxury and delicacy had their appetites stirred, then forget the Silver Age primitives. This was about to cause a riot.
Sure enough, not long after, the once-empty field began to fill with shadows.
From the trees, the caves beneath the hills, even from underground dens dug into the wilds—people crawled out.
It was a scene that would definitely give someone with Vietnam flashbacks the shakes.
Scarier than laughter echoing from the jungle?
The jungle drooling.
Eros glanced at the ragged, half-naked humans wrapped in rough furs, looking more like beasts than people. Then, he turned slightly and caught Apollo staring at his face again.
Inwardly, she sighed.
They were both human. So why was there such a huge gap?
The ignorant stumble through the wilderness like animals. The wise gleam like gods… but still die like men.
Drawn by the scent of roasted meat, the humans gazed longingly at Eros, but none dared approach.
Not with how he looked, clean, radiant, otherworldly.
To them, Eros no longer resembled one of their own.
He was something else. A deity. A nymph. A spirit of the forest.
Eros wasn't in a rush. He calmly turned the meat, even carving a few extra decorative cuts, just to keep them watching.
The feeling was delicious—like walking into a military boot camp with a watermelon in hand. Pure, petty bliss.
As their starving eyes locked on the roasting meat—desperate but too afraid to step closer—Eros felt a deep, satisfying thrill.
What tired old tropes?
Back in the day, the human race's top genius discovered how to make fire by friction, only to be ostracized and forced to leave the tribe.
But three years later, he returned, armed with supreme barbecue skills, and conquered the whole tribe like some culinary dragon king.
Yeah, the setup was cliché.
But clichés hit for a reason.
"Grrrlk…"
Someone's stomach growled.
That was all it took.
A chorus of grumbling guts followed, like dominos falling in a hunger symphony.
Eros grinned even wider, grabbed the meat, and tore off a juicy piece with zero shame.
Apollo's eyes glazed slightly. Whether it was for the meat… or for something else, even she wasn't sure.
On a normal guy, this would've looked a bit desperate. Crude, even.
But when you're good-looking?
It's called unapologetically bold.
Especially in Greece—home of the face-worshippers—being hot made everything feel divine.
And Apollo was the biggest face-worshipper of them all.
If Father hadn't already "reserved" Eros, she might've taken him in as her personal attendant on the spot.
Eros, chewing loudly and without a care in the world, pushed these savages over the edge.
Their restraint snapped.
They began creeping forward.
Some would've even stolen the food right from his hands if they could.
Eros paused and arched an eyebrow, looking at the nearest of the scruffy crowd.
"What's up? You all want some?"
The question stunned the man. He hadn't expected Eros to talk to them at all.
In this era, gods and mortals lived in strictly separate spheres.
All those mythological tales of humans mingling with deities?
None of them had happened yet.
As for Zeus's first human lover?
That wasn't due for another era—after Prometheus's fire theft kicked things off.
For now, humans lived carefree lives on the earth, while the gods looked down from Olympus.
The gods despised mankind's lack of reverence.
And mankind?
They didn't think about gods at all.
Sure, they knew the sun rose and fell, that storms and droughts were divine in nature.
But they didn't care.
They just kept eating and sleeping like nothing else mattered.
And so they were destined to be destroyed.
Even without divine wrath… they would've destroyed themselves.
Eros scanned the small group closing in. Men and women, young and old.
Their fur wraps were crude—barely garments at all. More like blankets against the cold. Most of them were practically naked.
"Well?" he said, waggling the roasted meat in his hand. His grin turned sly.
The nearest few hesitated, then gave in to instinct and nodded.
Of course they wanted it.
They'd played primitive their whole lives. They'd never smelled anything like this.
"Sure," Eros said. "You can eat."
He sliced off a small piece and tossed it into the crowd. It caused a scuffle.
The one who got it devoured it instantly, eyes closing in bliss, expression dazed and yearning for more.
"Thank you, unknown god," one of them said reverently. "Please, if you would—"
"Hold up."
Eros cut him off, expression amused.
"I'm no god. Have you really forgotten who I am?"
"I'm Eros. You know, the guy who refused to eat meat?"
The guy who refused to eat meat?
Hearing that name triggered vague memories. But,
They looked up at the shining boy before them, then back at their own mud-covered limbs and shaggy pelts.
And somehow, even these unrefined primitives felt a strange wave of shame.
They tugged awkwardly at their furs to cover themselves more modestly.
It was hard to believe…
That the radiant figure in front of them was once that oddball?
But if Eros wasn't a god, then-
"Exactly," Eros said with a knowing smile. "It's actually very simple."
"If you're willing to learn, you can eat meat like this every day."
He baited them with kindness and guidance, drawing them closer, step by step into his trap.
Fire Thief?
He was owning the role.
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Hey everyone! I'll be dropping an extra 1 chapter once we hit 200, 400 power stones! If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to spend some power stones. I'd really appreciate the support. Thanks a bunch!