The Slightly Altered Tale of Thebes (2)
The place had already transformed into a battlefield where spears and swords clashed wildly. A man with bloodshot eyes charged the soldiers, wielding his powerful muscles to cut one of them down in a single stroke.
Slash— Crimson blood sprayed across the once-peaceful room, shattering furniture in every direction.
Philatos could not fully comprehend the situation. One thing was certain: the man’s condition was clearly abnormal, and the soldiers looked all too familiar with this kind of chaos.
“Uwaaaaah!”
“Kuh. What strength!”
“Priest! That bastard…”
He moved quickly to assist the soldiers. Circling behind the madman in an instant, Philatos drew the blade from his waist and raised it high. Following the precise forms of the swordsmanship he had trained for years, he brought it down hard on the deranged man’s shoulder.
The well-honed edge flashed with lethal cold light.
“Hup!”
Splurt— The monstrous strength that had made him famous even in Sparta severed the muscular man’s arm, sending a fountain of blood into the air. Yet the one lost to madness did not falter. Instead, he lunged forward. Philatos tried to recover his blade for another swing, but the maniac had already closed the distance. He was stunned by the creature’s unnaturally powerful grip.
“Urgh!”
He barely blocked the attack with his knife, but that was all he could manage. How could a one-armed lunatic still exert such force? Philatos clenched his teeth, wondering if he would be meeting Thanatos today, but—
“Hwaaaa! Ah…”
Thud.
The madman’s movements suddenly froze. He collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. A priest standing a short distance away, hand still extended, spoke calmly.
“No one can resist the power of Hypnos, God of Sleep, forever.”
So he was a priest of Hypnos. The madman was dragged away by the soldiers, but they continued to watch Philatos with wary eyes.
“Tsk. He hasn’t shown up in a while… Well, it was about time.”
The middle-aged priest held out a mysterious stone.
“Are you the last one? Place your hand on the stone. If you’re sane, nothing will happen.”
“Hmm… Very well. I am in my right mind, so…”
Flash— A pure white light, identical to the others who had passed. Not the red glow that marked madness. Philatos breathed a small sigh of relief as the soldiers finally lowered their guard.
“I will guide them from here. The rest of you may return to your duties.”
“Yes, Priest.”
“Then we shall take our leave.”
Only three people had passed the bizarre test. After dismissing the soldiers, the three followed the middle-aged priest deeper into the temple.
What was this strange examination? What had that madman been? Why would the gods subject aspiring heroes to such trials?
* * *
The room they reached lay at the deepest part of the temple. After passing through layers of heavy security, all three looked rather pale.
“Now, everyone look at this parchment.”
“What is it this time?”
“The third test. Read it carefully. If you swear upon the River Styx to uphold every condition written here, you pass.”
“The River Styx?!”
“Wait, is this really necessary?”
A Styx Oath was an absolute, unbreakable law—even for gods. Yet the restrictions listed on the parchment were overwhelming.
“Complete prohibition on revealing anything seen or heard from this point forward. Indirect disclosure through writing, drawings, or any other means is also forbidden…”
“Once signed, you must submit to control until the moment you take your first step as a hero? And furthermore…”
“I-I can’t do this! How am I supposed to live like that?”
One of the three who had passed began waving his hands in refusal. The other grew deathly pale as he read through the long list of prohibitions.
“Very well. The two of you have declined. Swear that you will never speak of any test you received in Thebes, then you may leave.”
I swear upon the River Styx that I will never reveal to anyone anything I saw or heard during these tests in Thebes.
Violation shall bring the eternal punishment of the oath.
“…Understood. I swear upon the River Styx that I will not speak of anything I saw or heard in this ‘test’ to anyone…”
“I swear the same…”
The two men left the way they had come. Philatos, however, refused to turn back. He had traveled all the way from Sparta with the dream of becoming a hero. He could not give up now.
I swear upon the River Styx that I will faithfully uphold every condition written upon this parchment.
Violation shall bring the eternal punishment of the oath.
“Oh… So there is at least one true hero among you. Not yet, of course…”
“Now that the oath is made, can you at least explain the process up to this point?”
The middle-aged priest nodded at his question.
“I cannot tell you everything… but the stone you saw earlier is an artifact infused with the power of Dionysus.”
“The power of the God of Madness…?”
“It does not drive sane people mad. It simply causes those already consumed by madness to collapse. That is why we called him a spy. We believe he was sent by the other side.”
“The snake monster that appeared across Greece some time ago—you know of it, yes? Think of it as a spy sent by those creatures.”
Philatos knew of the snake monster and the Gigantes. No one could remain ignorant of the powerful beasts that had destroyed temples across Greece and slain heroes and demigods alike. But to think those monsters could drive humans mad and use them as spies… He had clearly stumbled into a complicated war among the gods.
“Damn it… I never wanted to get involved in the gods’ affairs… Still, there’s no turning back now.”
“Heh heh. Wise choice. You’re the first one in nearly a month.”
The middle-aged priest opened the inner door. A stone staircase leading downward appeared, torches hanging at regular intervals along both walls.
“Follow me.”
“It looks like a place for some kind of ritual.”
“You will understand once you see it. Heh heh.”
Step. Step.
When they reached the underground chamber, Philatos’s eyes widened.
Goooo—
A crack floated in the air, radiating an unmistakably ominous aura. The space itself seemed shattered, forming a black rift wide enough for several people to pass through.
“Wh-what is this?! I have never seen anything like it…! Is this the power of the Olympian gods?”
“It is the gate to the Underworld. Step inside, and you will begin your training to become a hero.”
“The… the Underworld?!”
The Underworld. The realm of the dead. Wasn’t that Pluto’s domain, a place only the deceased could enter? And yet they were training heroes here? The reason for this hidden gate beneath the Pluto temple finally began to dawn on him.
As he hesitated, the priest offered gentle advice.
“You have already sworn the Styx Oath with the prohibition on disclosure. I will not force you.”
“Hmm!”
“If you are truly qualified to become a hero, you will pass through. If not, you will turn back. The choice is yours.”
Even the words that pricked his pride could not make him move easily. How could a living man enter the land of the dead?
“But if one eats the food of the Underworld, one can never return to the living world, correct?”
“The food prepared for you is brought from the living world at regular intervals.”
“So there must be quite a stockpile of surface-world provisions on the other side.”
If he wished to walk the path of a hero, was training in the Underworld truly necessary? Perhaps there was another way…
“…Have all the others gone through this same process?”
“Of course. Some who reached this point gave up. Others are currently training within.”
“To think Pluto himself would train heroes in his own domain… What is this…”
As Philatos stood stunned, the priest spoke again with a calm smile.
“It simply means the gods are paying close attention. The decision remains yours.”
“The Underworld… Hmm…”
There was no chance this priest was lying. Pluto’s followers feared the judgment of the afterlife more than anything. Those who believed all sins committed in the living world were fairly repaid in the Underworld rarely committed crimes.
After long deliberation, he stepped forward. One step toward becoming a hero.
“…I will go to the Underworld. I swear I will become a hero and slay that Gigantes with my own hands!”
“Oh. Then I wish you luck.”
The strange spatial rift drew closer. Gritting his teeth, Philatos stepped through.
* * *
Swaaaa—
Emerging from the crack, Philatos could not hide his shock at the scenery of the Underworld.
“This… is the Underworld?!”
It felt nothing like what he had imagined. He had braced himself for a dark, gloomy realm of death, yet stone canyons and vast plains stretched out before him, bathed in gentle light. Green grass like meadow turf covered the ground, and trees grew here and there. The place felt so unlike the Underworld that he muttered in a daze.
“Have I died and arrived in Elysium…?”
“Of course not! Haha! The true Elysium makes this place look like a poor imitation.”
A sudden voice from the side made him turn. A translucent centaur stood there, laughing heartily as he looked down at Philatos. The man was clearly a deceased soul.
“Huh?! Wh-who are you?”
“I am Chiron. I will be your instructor from now on.”
“The sage Chiron?!”
Chiron’s fame had not faded even after death. Only now did Philatos understand why heroes were being trained in the Underworld.
“But is this truly the Underworld? Why does it resemble the living world so closely…?”
“The Goddess of Spring and several other gods lent their power so that the living could adapt. Just be careful not to cross the barrier you see over there.”
“Goddess Persephone… I see.”
Beyond the barrier, the landscape was indeed the pitch-black realm of the dead he had always imagined. His instincts warned him clearly: crossing that line would mean death. The area granted to hero candidates from the living world was limited to the land around this canyon.
Still, it was more than enough. To think the wise Chiron would teach him personally—he had made the right choice coming to Thebes!
That thought lasted less than a second.
Swoosh—Boom!
A figure came flying from afar, spraying blood before smashing into a boulder. The man who had been sent flying was clearly another hero candidate. Philatos whipped his head around and saw—
“Kwaaaaah!”
“I heard he was weakened because he’s dead! How is he this strong?!”
“Think about it! Do we look like Apollo to you?!”
“Uwaaaaah! Just die already!”
Kyaaaaaaa!!!
“Use your strength! You’re a demigod, aren’t you?!”
“I’ve been going all-out since the beginning—urk!”
“Damn it! Protos is down!”
Crunch—Booooom!
An enormous, indescribably powerful translucent snake monster was casually swatting away the charging hero candidates with its tail. A mere flick sent men flying and shattered shields. The scene was utter pandemonium.
Clang!Ting!
“You damned monster! Aim for its eyes with arrows!”
“Just die already, you bastard!”
Yet the heroes kept charging, teeth clenched. Their attacks seemed to have no effect on the creature.
“Ah. That is the king serpent Python. Lord Hades lent him to us for training the heroes.”
“Wait… Is that the same Python that Apollo himself killed?”
“Is there any other Python?”
Philatos was speechless at the thought of facing a monster so dangerous that a god had to kill it personally. Chiron simply asked in return.
“You must face such a monster?”
“…Didn’t you come to the Underworld because you wanted to become a hero?”
“But…”
It was true he had stepped forward with courage. But… but…
“Oh, and one more thing. Thanks to Pluto’s grace, people don’t die easily here. So don’t worry.”
“…You can’t even die?”
At that moment, Philatos seriously considered turning around and going straight back to the living world.