The One Who Serves God (3): The Underworld Stands Ready
The Underworld was fully prepared. There were even two gods of death to manage it, reapers ready to gather the souls of the departed, facilities to repair damaged souls or resolve lingering grudges... and I'd even directed the Cloud Whale, which receives processed souls, to linger near the northern entrance to the Underworld.
With a judgment chamber prepared for sentencing sinful souls and meting out punishments, we could start operations at any moment.
Everything was flawless... but I still hadn't launched the Underworld.
The reason? Nothing major. Ceres was still hesitating.
The black dragon child who'd absorbed the death aura rising from the Dragon's Tomb and gained the power of death. That was the kid I'd pegged to manage the Underworld, but she was still agonizing over it.
I had no idea what was eating at her, but it'd be great if she could decide soon. We could run the Underworld without her if needed.
Sure, it'd mean only two managers, ramping up their workload. We'd probably need to run three shifts at minimum. That's what I figured.
It'd be nice if Ceres stepped up, though.
Anyway, she was the biggest holdup. Next was the shortage of guardians for the Underworld.
I had Talos, my first golem, but one guy could only guard the entrance.
Ideally, one per layer. But honestly? Tough.
Even if I made them myself, I needed ideas. I wanted a Cerberus-style beast, but as a living creature, not a golem.
In the end, guardians for each layer were on hold.
Once Ceres decided, we'd start operations and scout suitable guardians along the way. Who knows—maybe fitting ones would show up for each layer.
Right on the cusp of starting Underworld operations, the priest—who'd aged into a middle-aged man—sent up a prayer.
"Mother of Life, grant me wisdom."
Hmm. Looked like he had a question for me today. He'd been quiet lately, but here we go again.
And seriously, whatever happened to the real Mother of Life?
"What do you need me for?"
"Grant me wisdom, O Mother. This foolish servant of yours faces an unsolvable riddle."
An unsolvable riddle? Even for him, the most knowledgeable human around?
Maybe something like his old questions about life.
"What troubles you?"
At my words, the priest spoke cautiously.
"The end all life meets equally: death. I wish to know what comes after."
"What lies beyond death?"
"Yes. You know all about life, Mother, so surely you know its conclusion?"
Hmm. I know. Of course I knew—I'd built the Underworld for exactly that purpose!
We hadn't started yet, but still.
So I told him.
"I know it well. What lies beyond death, and what happens next."
"Then tell me. What awaits beyond death? A void where everything vanishes? If harsh, grueling lives end in empty darkness, what meaning does this life hold?"
This kid, as my priest, must've helped countless people and witnessed endless deaths. Those begging for aid. The wounded. The diseased. Watching all that had worn him down.
"Please tell me. What lies beyond death? What meaning does life have? Why must life endure such suffering?"
His voice carried a hint of resentment. How had this kind soul, who'd strived to help others, grown so sorrowful? All those deaths had broken him. Deep grief laced his words.
"Give me an answer. If life holds no meaning, why did my wife and child have to die from plague?"
Huh? Plague...? Plague? Had an outbreak hit?
I slipped out of my cave, cloaking myself, and headed to Acad, the city-state where the priest served.
The city buzzed with its usual vitality. No sign of plague.
I rushed to the Life Temple, but the priest was gone. Word was he'd gone to a village near Urk, the city-state at war with Acad.
I turned toward that village—and found a battlefield.
A gruesome warzone. Dozens, hundreds dead. Abandoned corpses breeding plague.
And among those felled by disease... the priest's wife and child.
"Answer me... so I can accept their deaths... find peace... Tell me what lies beyond death..."
So that's it. His precious family's death had twisted him. Poor kid.
"Long ago, before humans grasped the concept of death, there was nothing beyond it. Just emptiness."
"Nothing...?"
"That's right. Nothing."
In those days, no souls formed. The dead simply scattered, melting into nature without a trace.
"I... see..."
His voice plunged into gloom. Hey, hear the whole story first.
"But things are different now."
I spoke calmly.
"Once humans recognized death, souls of the dead began to appear."
"Souls of the dead...?"
"Souls. Containing hun and po. The hun ascends to the heavens for a new life; the po scatters to earth and fades."
The hun flies off, the po disperses. Simple as that.
But where does the scattered po go? What of sins committed? Even slight grudges kept souls tethered to corpses.
Souls denying death turning black? Natural progression.
So the current system solved nothing. It just recycled returning hun into reincarnation without processing.
"What lies beyond death now is an imperfect cycle. Souls split: po scatters, hun ascends to new life. But that's not enough. Lives get no reward. Sins go unjudged. Grudges linger. And I hated that."
Simple story. Virtue rewarded, vice punished. I just wanted a world where that happened.
Sure, I tacked on other reasons... but that was the core.
"That's why I'm building a new afterlife system."
"Afterlife...?"
"Yes. A realm souls reach after death. Where lives are judged, sins punished. Good souls gain eternal bliss. That's my goal."
Proper soul processing would eliminate lingering spirits on earth, too.
"If they go there... can I meet my wife and child again?"
I shook my head slightly.
"Sadly, my afterlife is nearly complete but not started. So their souls split: hun to the Cloud Whale for rebirth, po scatters to earth. Such a shame."
If the Underworld had launched, I could've let him see them briefly. Truly regrettable.
And resurrection? Souls needed to be intact. Theirs were already gone.
"Rebirth... I see."
His voice was heavy.
"Then... if I wait in the Underworld, couldn't I meet my reborn wife and child someday?"
Huh?
"Meet their souls again?"
Wait, hold on.
"Even if you met their souls again, they'd be different from who you knew. Even if you miraculously found their hun, they wouldn't remember you."
"But..."
"Personality and memory largely come from the scattered po. The hun cycles to new lives, po disperses to earth..."
...Wait.
Silently, I approached the bodies of his wife and child, scanning the surrounding earth.
The po sinks into the ground, decomposing over about three years before vanishing deep below.
So if I was right... there should be...
"Mother of Life?"
I ignored his voice, spotting dozens of po slightly sunk into the soil. Scanning their memories, I isolated his wife and child's.
Hmm. Even sunk in earth, full dissipation takes time—they were still intact.
"I found your wife and child's lingering po."
"What?"
"But without their hun, I can't revive them."
With the hun, maybe I could've restored the bodies. Without it? No full revival.
And if I needed resurrection magic? Repair body, reinsert soul? Ask reapers to return souls? Think later.
Focus on the priest for now.
His voice regained a spark of hope.
"If we find their hun, can I see them again?"
"Merge their hun with this po, and they'd reform as complete souls."
Then you could reunite. Easiest way? Rewind time. But save that as last resort.