The Hydra of Lerna
"The content of the labor has changed."
Those were Heracles's first words when he arrived at the general store early that morning.
I knew right away that the Moirae had granted my request.
But it came with strict limitations: Heracles had to remain the primary actor, and only those unbound by the "thread of fate" could offer help.
I already knew the details, but I asked again to be certain.
"The content of the labor has changed, you say?"
"Dreams visited me and delivered my father's will."
"You mean the Oneiroi."
"Correct."
The "dreams" Heracles referred to were the Oneiroi, the gods of dreams who served as Zeus's messengers.
The Oneiroi, who were dreams incarnate, were the envoys Zeus most often used to convey his intentions.
Though he usually deployed them more for stirring up trouble than delivering straightforward messages.
After all, Zeus had manipulated humans through dreams for ages. The Greek coalition's disastrous decisions during the Trojan War had been the direct result of Zeus sowing discord via those very dreams.
The Oneiroi were strictly Zeus's personal agents. Olympus had its own official herald apart from them.
And that "official herald" arrived in Mycenae that very morning.
Chirp—chirp—
Birds sang as Helios's sun chariot announced the start of a new day over Mycenae. The palace's golden roof blazed brilliantly beneath the morning light. The spacious gardens overflowed with fragrant flowers. Guards stood at attention with heavy spears while servants hurried along the colonnades.
Then it happened.
Whooooosh—
A fierce gust roared down from the sky. The sudden wind whipped through the humid air and wrapped around the palace. People instinctively looked upward.
There, silhouetted against the sun, floated a boy.
He wore a golden cap adorned with feathers. In his hand was a staff entwined by two snakes, and on his feet were winged sandals. Each time those sandals cut through the air, faint trails of light lingered behind them.
The boy descended as lightly as if he were strolling across the sky itself.
The palace servants and royal guards stared up at the sight, utterly spellbound.
I stood among the servants, watching the boy.
─────.
The moment his feet touched the ground, the surrounding air seemed to grow lighter. A gentle breeze rustled the grass and set the birds singing, as though the very space itself was welcoming his presence.
Once on the ground, the boy swept his gaze across the area. His golden eyes, full of mischief, sparkled in the sunlight. They looked playful, yet they were unmistakably not the eyes of a human.
Of course they weren't. He was a god, not a mortal.
His searching eyes finally stopped on me.
Those golden irises curved into a smile, and his lips moved.
I said nothing. There was no need. He already knew the answer.
With a small chuckle, the boy looked away from me. Then he spoke.
"King Eurystheus of Mycenae shall heed the will of myself and Olympus."
His voice flowed like a light breeze yet carried a profound resonance.
"Hermes, messenger of the gods, has come to deliver Zeus's decree."
The messenger of the gods. The one who conveyed Olympus's will. The voice of Hermes, god of travelers, rippled outward like a wave through the Mycenaean palace.
King Eurystheus of Mycenae came scrambling out and fell to his knees before Hermes.
"E-Eurystheus shall obey the will of Olympus."
His clothes were in disarray; it looked as though he'd been roused from a late sleep.
"Where is Heracles?"
"Here."
Heracles strode forward boldly and stood before Hermes. His expression was calm, as if he'd already foreseen this moment.
Hermes smiled at Heracles and opened his mouth.
"I shall now convey Zeus's will."
Thud.
The Caduceus, staff entwined by two snakes, struck the ground.
"The content of Heracles's labors has changed."
Fate had begun to move.
The message Hermes delivered was simple.
A helper would now be permitted to participate in Heracles's Twelve Labors.
However, that help was limited to individuals unbound by the laws of fate, and Heracles himself must remain the central figure. An additional clause stated that if Heracles judged the situation "unavoidable," the helper could intervene regardless of who they were.
This must be a provision for Iolaus.
In the hunt for the Hydra, Heracles would bring his nephew Iolaus. That was history, an immutable fate the Moirae had already decided could never be altered.
Eurystheus asked after hearing Hermes's words,
"Unbound by the laws of fate, you say?"
"Indeed."
Eurystheus looked utterly bewildered. It was understandable. Even the gods themselves could not escape the laws of fate. The clause essentially amounted to telling them not to help at all. There seemed no real reason to include it.
Yet Hermes offered no further explanation for Eurystheus's confusion. He simply vanished the same way he had arrived—by soaring into the sky.
He's covered his entire body in artifacts. That was my impression after seeing Hermes.
That afternoon, after Hermes had delivered the revised terms of the labor, Heracles prepared to depart for the Lerna Swamp.
His appearance had changed. The lion skin that Vanesha had tailored for him now covered his upper body—he no longer went around bare-chested—and a bow and longsword hung across his back.
"How does it look?"
"It suits you perfectly."
Now he truly looked like the Heracles I knew. The Nemean lion skin was, after all, his defining symbol.
"My lord, we'll see you at the swamp."
"Seojun-nim, see you soon."
Vanesha and Jeanne bowed to me and vanished. Since they had waiting timers, they needed to conserve every possible moment.
"Shall we go, Heracles?"
"Let's."
I left the general store with only Heracles.
We traveled from Argos, the great southern city of Mycenae, toward the Lerna Swamp where the Hydra dwelled.
By the time we reached the swamp, it was already late at night and the surroundings had grown dark. The atmosphere of the shadowed forest was indescribably sinister. The distant cries of beasts echoed from somewhere.
Even so, I had no intention of turning back.
"Let's begin with reconnaissance."
"Reconnaissance?"
"I've heard the Hydra is a nocturnal monster. Night should be the ideal time to observe its appearance."
"A sound plan."
Heracles agreed. To defeat the Hydra, we first needed concrete information about the creature. This was the perfect hour to observe a beast that slept by day and moved by night.
Just in case, I summoned Vanesha and Jeanne as well and explained my idea to them.
"Hmm, so you wish to observe it in secret."
"Yes, exactly."
"My lord, please take my hand."
Vanesha extended her hand.
"?"
Puzzled, I cautiously took the offered hand. The instant my fingertips met her soft touch, Vanesha gripped my hand tightly.
Before I could even register my surprise—
"Huh?"
An unfamiliar sensation washed over me.
It felt as if I had vanished.
My breath, my body heat, the air itself… my entire existence seemed to blur and fade.
When I looked at Vanesha with wide eyes, she gave me a bright smile.
"As long as we're touching, I can share my ability."
"Ah, I see."
It was the first I'd learned of it, since the situation had never arisen before. Interlocking fingers felt slightly awkward, but I understood the necessity.
"Jeanne, please take my other hand."
Vanesha offered her remaining left hand to Jeanne. Jeanne looked reluctant but eventually took it.
"If we're ready, let's move."
"Understood."
And so, holding Vanesha's hands, we made our way into the Lerna Swamp where the Hydra waited.
Inside the forest, where it was nearly impossible to tell direction, not even the chirp of insects could be heard. The entire wood lay in absolute, oppressive silence.
"My lord, watch your step. There's a protruding rock ahead."
"Got it."
With my vision limited in the darkness, I relied on Vanesha's guidance as we advanced.
After some time, Heracles halted.
"This is the swamp."
Dense fog clung to the ground. The swamp itself lay beyond that mist.
The Lerna Swamp under deep darkness. Only the faint, bluish glow of moonlight reflected off the water, illuminating the rotting trees that crowded the marsh.
"My lord."
Suddenly Vanesha squeezed my hand. Her eyes were lowered, fixed intently on the swamp as though something waited there.
And then—
Bubble… bubble…
Strange bubbles rose from the water she was watching. Thick fog writhed around the marsh.
Slither. Slither.
The sound of something moving beneath the water reached us. Dark water splashed as a colossal shape slowly emerged.
One. Two. Massive serpent heads rose upward.
It was a monster possessing twelve heads.
"Grrrrr…"
The heads writhed in different directions as if each possessed its own will, growling independently.
Twelve pairs of gleaming red eyes burned with ominous fire in the darkness. From the gaping maws rose the creeping scent of lethal poison.
This was no ordinary monster.
Even if one head was severed, two would sprout in its place—an existence that transcended death. The immortal beast unleashed upon the world by the evil god Typhon and Echidna, mother of all monsters.
The Hydra.
Swish… swish…
The swamp's surface rippled as the Hydra's body slowly advanced. Fog billowed thickly in its wake.
I swallowed hard, holding my breath.
It's even worse than I imagined.
Its breath, blood, saliva, bodily fluids, its very flesh—everything about the Hydra was composed of poison. This would not be solved by simply setting it ablaze.
With that, we concluded our reconnaissance of the Hydra.
Once we had left the swamp, Heracles spoke.
"I'll bring my nephew."
"…Against that monster?"
"There will be no problem."
Heracles remained unshaken even after seeing the Hydra. It was as if he held absolute faith in his nephew.
I understood why the moment I laid eyes on Heracles's nephew.
"I greet you, Lord Heracles."
A giant frame. A body forged entirely of muscle.
Standing there was another Heracles.