The Underworld Takes Shape
The ground rumbled deeply. At this point, I had more or less finished creating everything.
The Underworld, which had been nothing but empty space, twisted and expanded according to my will until it was almost unrecognizable from its original form. From a hipster—or rather, an Underworld—perspective, it looked like a pitch-black castle reflected in my eyes. A steel fortress forged from metal that overflowed from the depths of the earth.
Was this even steel? The metal infused with my power somehow looked pale and emanated a chilling coldness. The castle walls gave off an eerie luster that made it obvious this was no ordinary metal. Maybe I should call it an obsidian citadel.
With a slight nod of my chin, the castle gates creaked open. Actually, it wasn’t exactly smooth. I had just made the thing—why was it already so stiff? And the sound the doors made was exactly like a ghost’s wail.
As I stepped inside the massive fortress, I made additional adjustments here and there—smoothing out patches of sand scattered across the floor or fixing areas where I had accidentally warped the space. I was in the middle of fine-tuning when a visitor arrived in the Underworld.
“Hades.”
The one walking toward me with heavy steps was a muscular, one-eyed god with a stern face. No, a Cyclops. It was Argus the Thunderbolt, one of the three Cyclops brothers who had forged weapons for me, Zeus, and Poseidon.
What business did he have coming all the way to this gloomy Underworld to see me?
“Good thing I found you without too much trouble. Demeter gave me the location…”
The Cyclopes were children of the earth goddess Gaia and the sky god Uranus. In terms of divine lineage, they ranked higher than us. But hadn’t the three brothers said they would live freely on some island from now on? There shouldn’t have been any reason for them to come to this dark underground place… Unless he had died and come to the Underworld?
Strangely enough, although the Cyclopes were high-ranking and powerful gods, unlike us they were capable of dying. So it wasn’t impossible that the first resident of my kingdom’s Underworld could be a Cyclops.
“So who killed you? Was it that scoundrel Zeus?”
I was just about to start a brotherly war with the throne of the gods on the line when he let out a chuckle and answered.
“What a joke. We may be blacksmiths, but we also have some knowledge when it comes to building structures. When we heard Poseidon and Zeus were building palaces, the three of us each took on one.”
Ooh… The Cyclopes, those benevolent gods who gave away everything they had without hesitation. I silently worshipped him in my heart.
“Still, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t expect too much. I don’t possess the divinity of architecture, after all.”
The three Cyclops brothers had each inherited a portion of their father’s sky divinity. Thunder, lightning, and bolts had nothing to do with blacksmithing, yet somehow they had cultivated such incredible skill… He looked around the palace I had just created, pointing out various spots here and there.
As expected of an expert’s advice on creation, the palace quickly began to transform.
“And while it’s good that you’re using the Kynee I made for you, I’d appreciate it if you took better care of it. For all its looks, it’s a neat and tidy child…”
Argus fiddled with my helmet of invisibility, the Kynee, which was hanging in a corner. Incidentally, Argus was the one who had personally forged my helmet. When I had asked why he made an invisibility helmet of all things, his answer had been ridiculous. He said he had made a weapon that matched my gloomy personality… or something like that.
“…Tsk. Are you even listening? And it likes to have the area from the crown of its head down to the bridge of its nose stroked…”
That’s not an ego sword, it’s an ego helmet, you know? You’re the one who made it, so why do you keep talking like this? It might be some craftsman’s sentiment that I simply can’t understand.
Come to think of it, I had always felt this way. Poseidon and Zeus got weapons, so why was I the only one who received armor? I wanted to swing around a cool weapon too, but all I got was a stealth helmet… It felt a bit disappointing.
“Hmph! What do you mean, ‘just a helmet’! The Kynee is my masterpiece, a work of my soul that allows you to hide from the entire world! What’s wrong with it?”
Oh no. Did I say my thoughts out loud again? I quickly calmed the Cyclops, who was huffing and puffing with steam coming from his nostrils.
Of course, I had felt its power well during the war. Even our father, the god Cronus, had been unable to find me while I wore it.
“Obviously, since I made it. Do you know how much effort I put into creating that thing…”
But still, a weapon would have been nice.
“Hey now! You’re supposed to be one of the chief gods—stop pestering me! If I make you a weapon, I’ll have to make ones for Poseidon and Zeus as well!”
I had wanted to get a weapon while I was at it, but it couldn’t be helped. From his perspective, making me a weapon would mean having to make additional ones for Poseidon and Zeus, so there was nothing he could do.
After circling the Underworld I had created a few times, Argus finally left with a satisfied smile. He had told me not to expect too much since he wasn’t the god of architecture, yet he had completely transformed my palace before leaving. I clicked my tongue as I watched his retreating back.
“Hades. Do you covet Zeus’s thunderbolt or Poseidon’s Triaina?”
“Of course I do.”
The goddess Styx, who had come to see Argus off with me, whispered softly as he departed the Underworld.
Of course I coveted them, but there was nothing I could do about it. Maybe I should secretly visit the island where the three Cyclops brothers were said to live. Would they make me one then?
“If you sink something at the bottom of the River Styx—the proof of the oaths made by the gods—and infuse it with your power, a weapon worthy of you might be born. What do you think?”
This suggestion surprised me. She was willing to go this far? She wasn’t even a blacksmith who took pride in forging weapons, so why…?
When I asked the goddess Styx for her reason, she turned her head away shyly and said,
“Th-Then the debt will be cleared, right?”
Come to think of it, there was one thing she might consider a debt. During the war, I had saved her when she was surrounded by countless Titans and nearly dragged away somewhere. But honestly, she had been the one to help us first.
Well, maybe it was something like a bribe? A way of saying let’s get along well as neighbors from now on…
“Take the bronze sword the Cyclopes made and infuse it with your power, then hand it to me. I’ll bring it back when it’s done.”
I gave the goddess Styx the bronze sword I had used during the war. She took my beloved blade and instantly descended deep beneath the river, disappearing from sight.
The Cyclopes hadn’t only made the thunderbolt, the trident, and the helmet. They had also forged weapons and armor for the other gods and mass-produced countless ‘failures.’ None of us agreed that those were failures, but the highly skilled Cyclopes pointed out every flaw with the eyes of a hawk.
“This seems like an excellent weapon, though?”
“What are you talking about? This weapon is too weak to contain your divine powers. If it clashes with Cronus’s scythe, it’ll break after a few days of fighting.”
“Then why is this bracer considered a failure?”
“Try falling from the sky to the ground while wearing it. I guarantee there’ll be a scratch.”
Our father Cronus’s scythe was the greatest weapon in the world, created by our grandmother Gaia from adamas—diamond. Saying it would break after a few days of fighting something like that seemed like they were being overly critical, but in the end, they succeeded. They had created no less than three weapons that rivaled or came close to Cronus’s great scythe.
That day, the tide of the war, which had been going back and forth, completely turned, allowing us to achieve victory. And one of those ‘failures’ they had casually made was the bronze sword I had just handed to Styx.
After the sun god Helios’s horses had pulled the sun chariot across the world from end to end dozens of times, the goddess Styx finally returned to the Underworld’s citadel with my sword.
“It’s finished. Would you like to give it a swing?”
It was a one-handed sword dyed pitch black, fitting for the god of the Underworld. The bronze blade that had endured at the bottom of the River Styx after receiving my power looked as if it had been reborn.
I ran my hand along the blade, which had no ridge and consisted purely of an edge. The sword trembled slightly, as if recognizing its master.
“Oh my? It turned out even better than I expected.”
The unique texture of the hilt, made from a special oak tree that grew near the summit of Mount Olympus, gripped my hand perfectly. The weight was neither too light nor too heavy, and it fit snugly in my grasp. I loved the way the blade sliced through the air of the Underworld with a sharp whoosh.
For a test, I placed the finest of the fine, the Kynee, on the ground and struck it with the blade. Sparks flew from the rebound.
Clang!
“Hades! You swung a blade at that precious helmet! Why would you test it on that of all things!”
But the hardest thing I owned was the Kynee, so I had no choice but to test its performance on it…
“Sigh… As expected, all the gods of Olympus have something strange about them…”
I set the Kynee aside and carefully inspected the blade. No scratches or damage anywhere. The connection between blade and hilt—excellent. The tremendous conductivity of divine power—perfect. I wondered how long this blade would last against the full power of a god’s authority.
I was about to focus strength in my hand and strike the flat of the blade when Styx stopped me.
“Aaaah! Don’t do that! Our child will break!”
Child?
“Huh…?! That’s… the same way the Cyclopes call their masterpieces their ‘children,’ right…”
“‘Child’ sounds good. Then its name will be the Styx Sword.”
“Ugh… To use my name just like that…”
I left the goddess Styx covering her face with both hands and muttering to herself, then fastened the sword at my waist.
Good. From now on, your name is the Styx (True) Sword.
“I am Styx, you know…”