Episode 170: The King of the Underworld is Tired

Episode 170: The Peculiar Trojan War – (4)

Amidst the thunderous roar of war cries, the two armies collide. The battlefield becomes a gruesome scene where spearheads filled with murderous intent swing through the air, and arrows pierce the bodies of enemies.

The sounds of flesh being torn, the clash of metal against metal, and the pungent scent of blood fill the air.

Schreeeek-Thunk. Squish! Roooar!

"Die! Just die already!"

"Let's show them the bravery of the Spartan army!"

"Lord Zeus, ruler of the heavens, watch over me!"

"The God of War, Ares, is watching us!"

Soldiers shout the names of their gods as they swing their weapons at each other.

Amid this fierce battlefield, the ones who stood out were undoubtedly the heroes who had reached unparalleled heights.

Whoosh-Thunk. Slash!

"They say the Trojan army is strong. Doesn't seem like much to me!"

"Don't let your guard down, Achilles! Even you need to be careful!"

"Haha! Patroklos, worry about yourself instead!"

Achilles, hailed as the mightiest among the younger generation of heroes, And Patroklos, though not his equal, still a warrior of exceptional strength.

"We need to take down their commander... but I can't spot him."

"Over there. What about targeting that rampaging one, Queen Penthesilea?"

Penthesilea, the queen of the Amazons and an ally of Troy.

"Hector! Face me in combat!"

"As you wish, Ajax!"

Hector, universally recognized as Troy's greatest hero, And Ajax, the massive prince of Salamis.

Countless heroes displayed their might, slaughtering soldiers with ease.

Those who had ascended to the realm of heroes could not be stopped by mere soldiers.

Even if they weren't the monster-slaying heroes of the previous generation, their power was still extraordinary.

"Ahhh! Aaaaah!" "A monster! It's a monster!"

Soldiers from both sides collapsed, spewing blood.

Yet the tide of the battle remained evenly matched, neither side gaining a clear advantage.

Though the Greek alliance had the upper hand in terms of their heroes’ overall skill, the frequent interventions of the Olympian gods, Hector’s brilliant tactics, and the morale boost from the temple of Hades established in Troy kept the Trojans strong.

Clouds and mist arose here and there, and what appeared to be mere coincidences—divine interventions in disguise—constantly disrupted the flow of battle.

"Aeneas! Flank them and strike from the side! Penthesilea, hold Ajax off for now!"

"Understood, Hector! Follow me, allies!"

"Leave it to me. Amazon warriors, show them our strength!"

"There. That man with the shining helmet-he's Hector, right?"

"If we take him down, the war is over.

Shall we give it a shot?"

"The one shooting arrows from the hill is Pandaros, Troy's general! Raise your shields and-"

"Our Troy is protected by the Sun God and the Lord of the Underworld!"

"To the God of War, Ares, I dedicate this glory!"

"The God of Justice and Mercy, Pluto, stands with Troy. Charge!!"

The number of fallen soldiers increased, their bodies strewn across the ground.

Invisible to mortal eyes, several avatars of Thanatos appeared to guide the souls of the dead.

Above the clouds, the two gods of war blessed their respective armies and bolstered their courage.

"Damn it, why is the sun glaring so much on our side? It's blinding..."

"They say the Trojans worship Apollo. It must be because of that!"

"Ugh... That spear should've struck him first..."

"Thank you! Oh, Goddess Athena!"

Shouts and screams echoed, mortal blood soaked Demeter's earth, and the thundering sound of chariots filled the air.

Amid this chaos, Apollo's gaze fell upon Achilles.

The prophecy that he would surpass his father, Peleus.

The swiftest movements in the Greek army.

The armor crafted by Hephaestus, gifted by his mother, the goddess Thetis.

Wearing lightweight armor, Achilles moved swiftly and unleashed havoc in the battlefield.

No one could stop him as he rampaged through the center of the war.

'Because of Achilles, the Trojans are at a disadvantage. He's wearing Hephaestus' armor, with Athena's blessing on his spear tip, no less.'

The Sun God descended unseen and approached Pandaros, Troy's finest archer.

"Pandaros. I am Apollo. Do not turn your head-just listen."

"...!"

"Do you see that warrior rampaging on the battlefield?"

"Yes. It's Achilles, isn't it? But with that armor..."

"Kill him. I will guide your arrow to strike through the gaps in his armor."

"...Understood!"

A faint light enveloped Pandaros' arrow as he aimed at the rampaging Achilles on his chariot.

At this moment, the arrowhead became sharper than ever, flying swiftly toward its target.

* * *

SWWWIIISH—TING!

“Ugh!”

The arrow shot at Achilles pierced through the head of the horse he was riding, grazed his armor, and fell to the ground.

This was because Athena, who had been watching him closely, deflected the arrow with her hand. However, Achilles’ dominating presence on the battlefield was also diminished.

"Achilles."

“Ah… Lady Athena?”

“The gods are targeting you. Be cautious, Achilles.”

After expressing his gratitude to the goddess, Achilles momentarily withdrew to regroup. Athena disappeared once more, heading off to assist the Greek generals.

This battlefield could no longer be considered a mere human conflict. The fierce struggles of the gods were influencing the morale of the soldiers.

Of course, all of this was being observed from the Underworld, ruled by Hades.

* * *

A war had broken out in the mortal realm.

And in the Underworld, where the souls of the dead arrived? Naturally, it was chaos.

The flood of souls crossed the five rivers of the Underworld, pouring into the courts of judgment and filling them to capacity. The heads of the three judges—Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus—turned nonstop as they passed judgments.

“They say there’s a great war in the mortal realm. And indeed, it seems so.”

“Was it between the Greek alliance and Troy? Wait, these souls should go this way!”

“Lord Hades, the souls arriving this time bear heavy burdens of sin…”

Hmm. Busy as always.

The war between Troy and the Greek alliance was visibly increasing the number of dead soldiers arriving in the Underworld.

The three judges worked tirelessly every day, and the shadow on Thanatos' face grew darker and darker.

Then...

“Oh Lord Hades, God of the Underworld! Judge of mortal souls! Please, pass judgment yourself!!!”

A prayer reached me—not to Pluto, but invoking the Underworld itself.

It was a desperate cry.

* * *

The war between Troy and the Greek alliance had seen several fierce clashes.

On the Greek side, injured soldiers were sprawled across the ground, groaning in pain.

“Ugh… Mother…”

“I see the god Thanatos… before my eyes.”

“To die so far from home… Please, place coins and mint leaves in my mouth…”

Some had lost limbs, others had their bellies pierced by spears. Some were run over by charging chariots.

Still others had been killed by divine powers that had intervened in the war. Many lives were lost without receiving proper treatment.

Amidst the screams erupting from every corner, King Menelaus, who had summoned the Greek alliance, strode forward in anger.

He walked across the Spartan camp, heading toward his own tent with resolute steps.

SWISH—

“…Ah.”

Pulling the curtains aside with a forceful motion, he found Helen sitting despondently inside.

The two of them locked eyes for a moment.

His muscular body, covered in blood and wounds, reeked of the metallic stench of death.

Helen, once the queen of Sparta, looked at him and began to cry.

“Sniff…”

“Why are you crying?”

“…That is…”

Menelaus stared at her briefly, then let out a bitter laugh and sat down.

“Are you afraid I killed Paris? Or that I didn’t die?”

“It’s not that…”

“Didn’t you run off to Troy because you fell for Paris in the first place? And now you miss me?”

At Menelaus’ pointed accusations, Helen broke into sobs, lowering her head.

Her tear-streaked face, as beautiful as a goddess’s, shed crystalline drops that fell to the floor.

“You must’ve heard the cries of our Spartan soldiers outside.”

“……”

“All of this bloodshed is because you abandoned me and fled to Troy. You’ll have to pay for your sins as well.”

The tent fell silent, with not even the sound of breathing to be heard.

However, the outside remained as chaotic as ever, as it was the time for reorganization before advancing on Troy again.

"I will kill every living being in Troy and cut off Paris's head. And after that-"

"...Please, don't do it."

"What did you say?"

"It's all... all my fault. Because of me, the people of Sparta... It's all my fault, so kill me instead."

Ha! A rough sigh escaped Menelaus's lips, tinged with frustration and disbelief.

As a king responsible for his nation, filled with hatred for Paris, resentment toward the gods, anger at Helen who had betrayed him, and yet... a lingering love for her. His emotions were compounded by the cries of Spartan soldiers outside, dying while calling out to their gods.

Moments ago, Menelaus had returned from butchering countless Trojan warriors, his presence radiating the fierce energy of a hero. But now, all that intensity seemed to settle into a deep silence. He had despised Helen for leaving him for Paris, but seeing her face now, he felt his resolve falter.

Was Helen feeling guilt? For the deaths of the Spartan soldiers? Was she truly acknowledging herself as the root cause of all this tragedy? When she left him for Paris, she hadn't shown any remorse... But now? Now? Ha. Hahaha... Hahahaha!

King Menelaus, who had been staring at the ceiling and letting out hollow laughter, suddenly grabbed Helen and pulled her out of the tent. He seized a spear lying nearby and pointed it at the sky.

Swish-BOOM!

It was as though the heavens themselves had been torn open, unleashing a torrential downpour accompanied by occasional bursts of thunder and lightning. The weather perfectly mirrored the anger of the gods. Surely, his voice would reach them clearly in this storm.

Grip.

Menelaus held Helen tightly in his arms. His expression was calm, yet his eyes were filled with sorrow and determination.

"I will entrust your judgment to the gods. And of course, I will stand equally on the scales of their justice."

"Ah... Ahh..."

"Goddess of justice, Dike... No, that's not it. The god of fairness, Pluto..."

He paused mid-sentence before continuing in a resolute voice.

"O god of the underworld, Hades! Judge of mortal souls! I beseech you to pass judgment upon us!!!"

His booming voice echoed across the land.

Menelaus raised his arm, gripping the spear tightly, and aimed it at the heavens. His target... was to ensure that the spear would fall back exactly on the spot where he and Helen stood, piercing them both.

Whoosh-!

As Sparta's greatest warrior hurled the spear, he instinctively knew where it would land.

It would strike down precisely on the heads of Helen and himself.

Grip.

Closing his eyes, Menelaus held Helen tightly, bracing himself for the divine judgment.

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