Episode 171: The Peculiar Trojan War – (5)
“Oh, Lord of the Underworld, Hades! The judge of mortals! I implore you to render your judgment directly!"
What nonsense is this?
The man shouting at me is none other than Menelaus, king of Sparta, the man who united the Greek forces.
The woman in his arms is Helen, sent away from Troy upon receiving my oracle.
He raised his spear toward the sky and hurled it.
Whiiiissshhh-
A spear thrown by human hands cannot soar into the sky forever.
At some point, it will fall back to the earth. According to my prediction... it will pierce both Menelaus and Helen.
Is he planning to face the divine judgment with Helen? A mortal entrusting his tangled feelings toward the woman who betrayed him to the will of a god.
Menelaus is not one of my followers. As the king of the militaristic Sparta, he worships Ares, the god of war. It's not my place to meddle with the affairs of the living, and technically, it would make more sense for Ares to intervene.
However, since he invoked my name and entrusted his and Helen's fate to me...
The spear falling from the sky is now within my domain. I could deflect it, or choose for it to pierce just one of them.
Whiiissshhhh!
Without hesitation, I raised my hand and intervened with the falling spear.
***
The spear, falling from the sky, plunged down like a streak of light. This object, meant to decide their fate, tore through the air with a chilling roar...
Thwack! Squelch!
"Aaaaah!"
Blood spattered onto the ground, and Helen screamed, shutting her eyes tightly. Had a god punished them?
Menelaus, feeling a trickle of blood on his cheek, spoke.
"...Let's just kill Paris and return to Sparta together."
It was then that Helen noticed the blood flowing from Menelaus's cheek and the spear embedded in the ground.
The fresh blood that had splattered was from the spear grazing his face.
Trembling in fear and guilt, she found herself embraced tightly by Menelaus, who whispered softly into her ear.
"If this is the answer from the god of fairness... perhaps it wasn't your will to follow Paris."
"Sniff... sob... Actually, it felt as though I was bewitched...."
"...You don't need to say anything more. I understand. Let's end this, all of it."
Oh, righteous Pluto.
The next day, the greatest warrior of Sparta walked alone toward the Trojan camp, armed only with his spear and shield. Hector, the commander of the Trojan forces, gestured for his soldiers to hold their ground.
"King Menelaus? Do you have something to say?"
Menelaus paused for a moment, clearing his throat.
His sharp spear gleamed in the sunlight, and the cold resolve in his eyes was as piercing as the spear itself.
"Paris! Come out now! Face me in single combat!"
"...!"
His voice rang out loud and clear, causing even the advancing Greek forces to halt in their tracks. The King of Sparta challenging Prince Paris to a duel?
"If you accept my challenge for a duel, regardless of the outcome, the forces of Sparta will withdraw and no longer attack Troy!"
"Hmm!"
"But if you continue to cower behind your walls and soldiers!"
Menelaus's final shout roared like a lion's.
The Spartan king, with a spirit that rivaled the great heroes of old, pointed his spear toward the walls of Troy.
"I swear upon the River Styx! I will mobilize all of Sparta's forces to burn Troy to the ground!"
Menelaus's roar sent murmurs through the gathered crowd. Messengers dashed urgently to the Greek alliance's leadership, while Hector, Troy's commander, pressed a hand to his forehead in frustration.
'This lunatic…'
Swearing by the River Styx meant that Menelaus's promise to retreat if Paris accepted the duel was genuine. And if Paris refused? His vow to destroy Troy was equally true.
For the sake of the kingdom, sending Paris was the logical choice.
After all, exchanging one life for the withdrawal of Sparta’s formidable army was a simple calculation.
But as a brother who cared for his sibling...
"PARIS! COME OUT IMMEDIATELY!"
Of course, Paris was skilled—his talent as an archer was widely recognized.
But seeing Menelaus's sheer determination, even Hector himself might struggle against him.
As much as Hector despised Paris at times, he couldn’t let his brother march to his death.
"Brother Hector."
"No, Paris! I told you to stay inside the walls. Why have you come out here?"
Paris had stepped forward, fully armed.
Clad in armor, Paris spoke to Hector.
For some reason, he looked as though he had mustered every ounce of courage he could find.
Whether it was his own resolve or someone else’s influence, it wasn’t clear.
"Brother."
"You foolish boy! Staying inside the walls is how you can help us! Go back immediately before—"
"Let me duel Menelaus."
"You idiot-!"
"As a prince of Troy, I must take responsibility for starting this war."
Hector stared at Paris, incredulous. Even he would face immense risk fighting Menelaus. Had Paris completely lost his mind?
"Do you have a death wish? Menelaus is Sparta's strongest warrior. You don't stand a chance-"
"The goddess Hera appeared to me and granted me courage."
"What?"
"With her blessing, I can defeat Menelaus. Trust me and let me fight."
A divine blessing. If true, perhaps Paris did have a chance.
Hector could sense an unfamiliar determination in his often spineless younger brother. Slowly, he nodded.
"...If the situation becomes too dangerous, retreat immediately to our side."
"Do not worry, brother. The one retreating will be Menelaus."
As Paris walked toward the battlefield, Hector watched his brother's back with a storm of concern swirling in his mind.
'Menelaus is formidable. If things go poorly, Paris must escape. I should prepare the troops just in case. Even with a goddess's blessing...'
Then, a sudden thought struck him.
'Wait. Did Paris say Hera blessed him? Hera is the goddess of marriage and family. Why would she grant her favor to Paris? She supports Troy, but... Paris destroyed Menelaus's household. Would Hera really take his side? No, this must be a trap! I have to stop this duel immediately-'
"Menelaus! I trust you will honor your vow, even if you die!"
"You vile scum! You finally show yourself! Fine, I'll take your head and return to Sparta!"
But the duel had already begun.
* * *
As the duel commenced, Paris raised his spear high and shouted loudly:
"Die, Menelaus!"
With a fierce whistle, the spear flew through the air. Bolstered by the blessing of the goddess Hera, it aimed directly at Menelaus’s torso.
But the opponent was none other than Sparta's greatest warrior.
Thunk!
Menelaus raised his shield to block the spear, then drew his sword and walked steadily toward Paris. In response, Paris unsheathed his own sword, but at that moment, Hera's blessing on him vanished.
"H-Heek!"
The aura of valor that had surrounded Paris disappeared in an instant. The courage that had filled his heart was no longer there.
As the blade aimed for his head closed in, the sword in his hand had long since fallen to the ground.
Clang!
Menelaus’s sword struck Paris’s helmet, shattering it. Paris, unable to withstand the impact, collapsed, but the duel did not end there.
The king of Sparta, moving swiftly, grabbed the ornament on Paris’s helmet and yanked it violently.
"Gahhh!"
"This day, I will see to it that you face Pluto’s judgment!"
The helmet strap tightened around Paris’s neck as King Menelaus, demonstrating his immense strength, began dragging Paris toward the Greek camp with one hand.
At this rate, Paris’s head would soon fall to Menelaus, who would retrieve a sword from his men.
Unable to bear the sight, the goddess Aphrodite intervened, cutting the helmet strap to rescue him.
Though she was not entirely fond of him, she couldn’t let the man who had awarded her the golden apple die like this.
But just as she reached out—
"Stop right there, Aphrodite. Don’t save him."
A hand seized Aphrodite’s wrist, halting her. Emerging from the clouds was a dark-haired god whose icy gaze fell on Paris.
Aphrodite’s eyes widened as she recognized the lord of the underworld.
"H-Hades? Aren’t you busy managing the affairs of the underworld? What brings you here?"
"I made some time."
"I thought you supported Troy. If you let Paris live—"
"I support Troy, not Paris. As the god of the underworld, I avoid shortening mortal lives unnecessarily, but that one—he must descend below now."
While Aphrodite remained trapped by Hades, Menelaus borrowed a sword from a Greek soldier and struck Paris’s neck.
With a sickening thwack, the prince of Troy’s head fell to the ground.
Shhkk—
"Uwaaaaa! Paris is dead!"
"King Menelaus has won!"
The man blinded by a woman, who caused a war—
Even in death, he would find no peace.