CHAPTER 165: CHAPTER 9

In the Underworld, the air was still and heavy as shadows curled against the black stone walls of Hades’ office.

Scrolls and tablets littered his desk, each one glowing faintly with divine script, yet now his quill was stilled and left to the side, his paperwork unattended.

Before the god of the dead stretched a divine mirror, a pool of obsidian water that reflected not his own face, but the distant image of Orpheus.

The mortal trudged across an endless desert, each step slow and agonizing, his body little more than bone and willpower.

Hera sat gracefully to the side, arms crossed, her sharp eyes locked on the mortal.

Aphrodite, meanwhile, leaned against the edge of Hades’ desk, chin in her palm, watching with dreamy intensity.

Hera was the first to break the silence.

"Do you think he can complete it?" Her tone was stern, but beneath it lingered curiosity. "This seven quests aren’t easy. They are no less than the Twelve Labors of Alcides."

Without hesitation, Aphrodite answered, her lips curling into a radiant smile. "Of course. Love can conquer all. His devotion is proof enough. Just look at him, his body is failing, yet still he walks. That is what love is."

Her voice was almost reverent, every word dripping with passion.

She sighed dreamily, before turning her gaze to Hades, her eyes turning into hearts.

Hades remained silent, his face as still and unreadable as the obsidian throne he ruled from.

His purole eyes never left the image of Orpheus, tracing each agonizing step.

He did not answer Hera. But does he think that Orpheus can complete the trials? Yes. He picked the trials himself and if Orpheus remained firm and doesn’t falter, then there is no way for him to fail.

Aphrodite went on, her voice brimming with conviction. "It is beautiful. Sometimes love can be tragic, yes, but it will always be beautiful. Orpheus love for his wife surpasses hunger, pain, even death itself. To me, this is the purest truth of existence."

Hera, surprisingly, gave a small nod.

"I will not deny it. Few men, and even fewer gods would endure so much for another. His devotion... it does move even me."

The goddess of marriage’s voice softened, just slightly, as she watched the mortal press forward despite the endlessness before him.

Then Aphrodite turned, tilting her head, her golden hair shimmering as she fixed her gaze on Hades. "What about you, Lord Hades? What do you think? Does his determination stir your heart at all?"

For a moment, silence reigned. Only the soft crackle of Hades’ black-flamed torches filled the chamber.

Aphrodite and Hera stared at him, waiting for his answer.

Then, at last, Hades spoke, his voice low, like the echo of a cavern."Truthfully, I have not been moved by a mortal since... Herios."

The name alone sent a quiet ripple through the room.

Aphrodite and Hera thought of that mortal man. The one who started the rise of humanity. And indeed, throughout history, there can be no mortal greater than him.

Hades’ gaze grew distant, as though looking back through millennia. "Herios was the first and only mortal I called my champion. A man born in the age of darkness, when humanity still cowered in caves, when beasts ruled the earth and gods toyed with mortal lives. He rose with nothing, no tools nor guidance. With bare hands and stubborn will, he defied the monsters of the world. He gathered his kind and taught them unity. He carved the first kingdom from wilderness and named it civilization."

His eyes narrowed slightly, voice deepening. "And at the end of his life... he defied the heavens themselves. He struck down gods, and burned his name into eternity."

Even Hera’s breath caught at the memory of such a man.

Aphrodite closed her eyes, as if remembering that historic moment where a mortal dared to point his blade at the heavens, and declared that he, a mortal, have surpassed the gods.

"His deeds became the cornerstone of humanity’s rise. An era of heroes was born in his shadow. To this day, even kings and demigods bow before his statues. Mortals pilgrimage across the world to the State of Herion, to kneel at his grave." Hades let himself a rare smiled, "He was not just a man. He was... a legend."

A heavy silence followed, the weight of history pressing down like stone.

Hades’ gaze returned to Orpheus in the mirror, the frail mortal dragging his body across an infinite wasteland.

His expression hardened, "With such a man as my measure, my standards are not easily met."

Aphrodite frowned, almost pouting. "Well yeah, you can’t compare anyone to Herios, that’s so unfair. There may never be another like him."

Even the greatest hero of this era, Alcides, was nothing compared to the man that is Herios.

"Exactly," Hades replied flatly, his tone final. "But if Orpheus did complete my trial, I would at least put his name on the same level as Alcides."

"Nah, Alcides is better." Aphrodite disagreed.

Hades shrugged, not bothering to argue.

"Hey," Hera started, "If we let Alcides marry Thetis, would their son be greater than Herios?"

"Nope."

"No."

Aphrodite and Hades replied almost instantly.

Hera raised her hand, "It was just a thought. Marriage is sacred, I won’t force anyone to marry."

With that, they continued watching trials.

The room grew quiet again, save for Orpheus’ struggling steps echoing faintly through the divine mirror.

*

*

*

On the ashen borders of the Underworld, where the last flicker of mortal souls gave way to eternal shadow, Hecate stood guard.

The goddess of crossroads, magic, and thresholds sighed heavily, her threefold torches flaring dimly.

For hours now, she had been enduring the same thing.

"Hecate. Open the gates."

"No."

"Hecate. Open them."

"No!"

"Hecate. Let me in."

"I said no!"

"Let me in! Let me in! Let me in!"

"May you be cursed by Tartarus!"

The voice that Hecate has been arguing with belonged to none other than Athena, the goddess of wisdom, who has been bothering Hecate for hours without stop, she was simply merciless in her persistence.

Every few seconds, the goddess of wisdom spoke again, patient but unrelenting, her tone calm yet stubborn.

And Hecate would be forced to endure her assault.

Hecate pressed her palms against her ears, growling. "Why must I be harassed by this owl-brained nerd of all people?!"

But no matter how much she tried to tune her out, Athena’s voice still rang in her mind, polite yet insistent.

Finally, with her patience at its end, Hecate stomped her foot, shadows flaring at the impact.

"Enough! I’ll go up there myself and deal with you properly."

With a swirl of purple mist, Hecate’s form dissolved and reappeared in the Overworld, inside her own temple.

The braziers lit instantly at her arrival, flames dancing unnaturally as her presence filled the hall.

And there she saw her, Athena, standing with perfect composure, as if she had not been whining and nagging like a child moments earlier.

Her armor gleamed, her gray eyes calm and clear, and her lips curved with the faintest, knowing smile.

Hecate’s brow twitched. "Don’t look at me like that. Why do you even want to enter the Underworld?"

Athena folded her hands behind her back, her voice calm and deliberate. "Because a hero has begun a grand quest. I felt it. As the patron of heroes, it is my duty to bear witness. And I intend to follow it to the very end."

Hecate blinked, suspicion in her eyes. A hero? In the Underworld? That was not something one heard every day.

She narrowed her gaze but eventually huffed. "...Fine. I’ll ask Lord Hades myself."

Her form began to unravel into mist once again, her body dissolving into shadow in order to return below.

But just as her essence slipped between realms, there was a sudden burst of motion.

Athena moved.

Her body launched forward with the speed of a spear thrust, every movement sharp and precise, honed from millennia as the goddess of war.

Her hands reached out, and before Hecate could even realize it—

"What—?!"

—Athena had leapt straight onto her back, clinging tightly like a warrior refusing to lose her prey.

Hecate’s eyes went wide as the transition finished, and in the next heartbeat she found herself once again in the Underworld, standing amidst shadow and stone... with Athena clinging to her like a stubborn owl refusing to let go.

"ATHENA!" Hecate roared, her voice echoing through the black halls. "Get OFF of me this instant! And return to overworld!"

But Athena only adjusted her grip, her face calm as ever. "No. You wouldn’t let me in if I asked politely, so I shall come with you by force. Either way, I will see this hero’s quest."

Hecate’s hands trembled with fury, the torches of her power flaring around them both.

"You... you insufferable owl!"

Athena only blinked down at her, entirely serene, as if she were sitting in a lecture hall. "Insufferable I may be, but I am also stubborn. You should know this by now, Hecate."

Hecate gritted her teeth.

That’s it. She’s going to resign!

She’ll give up her authority over crosswalks to others so she doesn’t have to guard the borders of underworld!

She will die early if she’d encounter someone like Athena on a regular basis.

"Now then, Goddess of Magic, take me to your king."

Hecate swears.

If this woman won’t get off her this instant, she’d unleash her strongest magic and show her genesis.