On Death (4): Burying the Ominous Feeling Deep Within

I shoved that nagging sense of unease deep down inside. My analysis of souls had progressed decently, and the shadow spirits were starting to gather too. Now all that was left was preparing a location for the Underworld and deciding on its system.

Of those two, creating the spot where the Underworld would sit had to come first. So... how should I go about it? Make it somewhere in this world? In Greek myth, the underworld was down below, and souls crossed the River Styx to get there. Underground seemed fitting, right? No, no, that wouldn't work. There was a problem lurking underground. Erebos, that wildcard. I'd scoured the surface high and low without finding a single clue about him—the embodiment of darkness itself—and now the only place he could be hiding was down there. Build the Underworld right in his potential lair? And have his shadow spirit descendants working there? Yeah, that was a hundred percent recipe for disaster!

Hmm. Underground was out. At least until I tracked down Erebos and gave him a good scolding. It was too risky. What about up in the sky? Souls naturally float upward, so gathering them might be easier... Ah, no, that wouldn't work either. The shadow spirits' nature made the sky impossible. They could seep into the ground to move, stick to dimly lit spots, or hide in shadows even under light—but bright open areas without shade? Forget it. And way up in the sky... there was no ground for them to seep into, no shadows except faint clouds, and the sunlight blazed down relentlessly. Stronger shadow spirits might manage without shade, but they were limited in number. Just a handful. The weaker ones would be immobilized for sure. At night under a moonless sky, maybe they'd roam free... but then how would we guide daytime deaths to the afterlife?

Hmm. Can't use the sky if I want to put the shadow spirits to work. So was building the Underworld somewhere in this world just impossible? I let out a small sigh.

I didn't want to resort to this method... but no choice. I activated my first perk from that Creator God guy: Creation.

Using that power, I created a single door. A massive door roughly hewn from pitch-black rock. Ignoring the bizarre sight of it standing there all alone—no walls or frame holding it up—I flung both sides wide open. Like wings unfurling, the enormous doors revealed... a wall of solid black rock on the inside. It wasn't attached to anything, yet packed full of black stone. It looked just like a gateway to another world.

Hmm. I half-expected it not to work when I tried, but... it actually created it. A door to another world. I just typed "a door leading to another world" in the creation settings... and it really made one. And perfectly reflecting the detail: "a door to a world containing nothing but rock." Seriously... even I, the creator, had to say, What the heck is this?

Just how far did this Creation ability go...? Could I end up making a whole new world? What made this different from the Creator God? No, put those thoughts aside. Good is good, right? I'd just confirmed my power's potential was even more limitless. Yeah.

I sighed softly, closed the door, reverted to my original form, and hefted the surprisingly heavy door in my claws. Creating it was fine, but... where to put it was another worry.

Hmm... Since it'd be the gate to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Underworld, somewhere hard to access casually. Plus, the workers—shadow spirits—needed easy access. And since it was the Underworld, it might affect other creatures, so ideally no other life around... Combining all those conditions made for some tricky requirements. But luckily, after wandering every corner of the world, I knew one spot that fit.

A few other hard-to-reach places came to mind, but only one satisfied every condition. I spread my wings and flew toward it: the northernmost end of this world. A vast white expanse blanketed in ice.

A frigid land filled with snow and ice. Harsh cold kept even other spirits away—a barren void. Animals grew scarce on the ascent northward, vanishing entirely at the world's edge. There, amid a sea where ice waves crashed like blades, sat a tiny island.

In the center of this little isle, battered endlessly by icy ocean waves, I planted the door I'd brought. No other life, far from human lands, not underground, no big issues for shadow spirits... Hmm, could those kids navigate the sea? They could, right? Nah, it'd be fine. I could build a bridge linking the island to the mainland. And the material? All that black rock crammed inside the door.

I polymorphed into human form and threw the door wide. Filled to bursting with black rock. Perfect. First, cast a spell so the door itself wouldn't break. Exceptions for the rocks inside, of course—they were all destined for smashing!

I tapped the enchanted door lightly to confirm it wouldn't shatter, eyed the solid wall, clenched my fist, channeled mana, and punched with all my might.

BOOOOM!!!

With a massive roar, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠black rocks exploded into fragments, spilling out. One punch—mana-infused, sure, but from this tiny fist—unleashed devastating power. That single blow had gouged a huge hole inside.

Hmm... good. I gathered the shattered debris with mana and dumped it into the sea facing the mainland. Of course, that wasn't enough to bridge island and continent. I clenched my fist again.

Mining time! Hmm. Kinda reminds me of that old game—smashing blocky cubes to mine ore. Now I was doing it barehanded, pulverizing everything and dumping fragments into the sea!

Let's see... This door led to another world, so no worries about Erebos sneaking in from elsewhere? If he came through the door, I'd slap a detection spell on it later to capture him instantly. I started obliquely demolishing the black rock realm inside, descending while dumping every fragment into the ocean.