Chapter 4

The serpentine argument escalated.

What started as a simmering debate over who would be my protector had now turned into a full-blown verbal battlefield.

"I am the swiftest among us," hissed a sleek, jet-black serpent coiled around one of the marble columns. "If danger arises, I can strike before the enemy even sees their death coming."

"Oh, please," scoffed a massive golden-scaled viper. "Speed is meaningless without strength. You may strike fast, but can you kill in a single bite?"

"Kill?" Nihaga rolled his eyes. "My job is to protect him, not turn the palace into a graveyard."

"You say that now, but wait until a mortal so much as breathes near him the wrong way—"

"IF ANYONE SO MUCH AS LOOKS AT HIM WRONG, I WILL REMOVE THEIR BLOODLINE FROM HISTORY."

The King whimpered.

The black serpent flicked its tongue. "Alright, dramatic one, calm down."

"I REFUSE."

Another serpent, this one a shimmering emerald green, uncoiled itself with an exaggerated sigh. "You're all missing the point. Raphael doesn't need a bodyguard. He needs someone wise. Someone who can guide him through the complexities of both mortal and divine politics. Someone who—"

"Someone who is NOT YOU," the golden viper interrupted. "Oh, yes, let's protect him with wisdom—I'm sure the next sword aimed at his throat will be so moved by your intellect it'll drop dead on the spot."

The emerald serpent huffed. "Diplomacy can prevent battles before they start, you brute."

"And what if diplomacy fails?" The golden viper smirked. "What then, scholar?"

"Then we eat them," the emerald serpent said flatly.

A moment of silence.

Then:

"...Wait, what?"

"I'm saying," the emerald serpent flicked its tail, "we talk first, eat second."

"I like this one," Nyssa whispered to me, smirking.

Nihaga pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear on the Styx, you're all insufferable."

"Then why don't you prove you're better?" The golden viper challenged. "Or are you just riding on your 'favorite child' status?"

Nihaga's eye twitched. "I AM NOT HER FAVORITE."

"Ah, yes," the black serpent mused. "That's why you're always the first one she calls upon, right?"

"It's because I am competent."

"Or maybe because she likes you best?"

"I WILL KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND."

The King was shaking.

The guards were praying.

The priests were considering an early retirement.

Krios, however, just groaned. "I swear, if this goes on any longer, I'm going to start rooting for the mortals."

Nyssa grinned. "Oh, come on, this is the most fun we've had all week."

Meanwhile, the argument had reached new heights of absurdity.

"You're all fools," a massive, white-scaled serpent declared. "We are overcomplicating this. The answer is simple: we form a rotating guard. Shifts. Teams."

"Oh, great idea, genius," Nihaga scoffed. "Let's schedule our protection, as if threats wait for appointments."

"No, listen—"

"Do you think an assassin will say, 'Oh, my apologies, I'll wait until the next shift change before striking'?"

"You have a better idea?"

"Yes. Me. Watching him. Always."

The golden viper hissed. "You do realize he's going to be living among mortals, right? You'll stand out like a divine plague."

Nihaga smirked. "Then let them fear."

The King audibly choked.

At this point, I was beginning to suspect that my greatest threat in mortal lands wouldn't be the gods, or assassins, or even fate itself.

It would be the absolute circus of overprotective murder-snakes fighting for my custody.

I cleared my throat, pointedly ignoring the absolute terror in the room.

"I've made my decision," I said, as if the walls themselves hadn't nearly caved in from tension.

I turned to face the gathered serpents.

"I choose Nihaga."

For a moment, nothing.

And then—

"Of course, it's Nihaga."

"Oh wow, what a surprise, Nihaga wins. Again."

"Biggest suck-up in the entire land."

"I mean, sure, if you like 'boring and brooding'—"

"Hey! I do more than brood—" Nihaga started, but another serpent cut in.

"Oh, do you? Do you really?"

"Yes! I also—"

"Protect Raezel."

"Exactly."

"Wow. Such depth. Much variety."

I sighed as the jealous grumbling continued. Some were dramatically writhing on the floor in exaggerated grief. Others were whispering conspiracies to each other like gossipy old oracles.

"It's favoritism, that's what it is."

"I heard Nihaga bribed the Fates."

"I bet Raezel just didn't want to hurt his feelings."

"It's always 'Nihaga, Nihaga, Nihaga'—what about me?! I've been doing my scales routine every day!"

"You look exactly the same as yesterday."

"IT TAKES TIME."

Meanwhile, the King looked horrified.

I glanced at Mother.

She said nothing—just lifted her hand.

That single motion was enough.

Every serpent, no matter how mighty, fell silent.

Medusa did not speak, nor did she offer an explanation. She didn't need to.

I would stay in the kingdom with Nihaga. That was final.

Then, as Mother turned to leave, she spoke at last.

A single sentence.

A quiet, measured statement that rang louder than any battle cry.

"He is Medusa's son," she said, voice like carved stone. "He stays as long as he wishes."

Her gaze turned cold.

"And if he desires this kingdom—he shall have it."

The King nearly collapsed.