Chapter 3: The Story of the Underworld – (2)

 

Rumble…

 

It was almost complete.

 

The Underworld, which once had nothing, was now twisted and expanded according to my will, making it difficult to recognize its previous appearance.

 

According to the hipster aesthetic—no, the Underworld aesthetic—it was as if a pitch-black castle reflected in my eyes.

 

A steel fortress made from the overflowing metal in the underground.

 

Was this not steel? The metal imbued with my power seemed somehow pale and emitted a chilling coldness.

 

The fortress walls emitted a strange sheen, far from ordinary metal. Should I call it an obsidian fortress?

 

Creeeak…

 

With a slight gesture, the castle gates opened naturally.

 

Well, not entirely naturally. I had just made it, so why was it so stiff?

 

And the sound of the opening gate was like the wail of a ghost.

 

As I entered the enormous fortress, I made additional adjustments here and there as I saw fit.

 

The sand scattered on the floor, and parts that were twisted due to poor control.

 

While I was busy with the adjustments, a visitor arrived in the Underworld.

 

“Hades.”

 

The one approaching with heavy steps was a muscular god with a stern impression and a single eye.

 

No, it was a Cyclops.

 

One of the three Cyclops brothers who had crafted weapons for me, Zeus, and Poseidon—Arges (Thunderbolt).

 

Why had he come to see me in this dark Underworld?

 

“Fortunately, I found you thanks to Demeter’s directions…”

 

The Cyclops were children of Gaia, the earth goddess, and Uranus, the sky god.

 

In the genealogy of gods, they ranked higher than us.

 

But hadn’t the three brothers said they would now live leisurely on an island?

 

There was no need for them to come to this gloomy underground… Did he come here because he had died?

 

Cyclops, unlike us, had the concept of death despite being powerful and noble gods.

 

So, there was a possibility that the first resident of my Underworld kingdom could be a Cyclops.

 

“So, who killed you? Was it that brat Zeus?”

 

Just as I was about to start a sibling war for the throne of the gods, he chuckled and answered.

 

“Just kidding. We are blacksmiths, but we also have some knowledge in building such structures. Poseidon and Zeus said they were building such palaces, so we brothers decided to help each with one.”

 

Oh… The Cyclops, the gods of generosity who spared nothing in giving everything they had.

 

I silently revered him in my heart.

 

“But don’t expect too much. I’m not a god of architecture.”

 

The three Cyclops brothers had inherited some of their father’s sky god power.

 

Thunder and lightning were unrelated to blacksmithing, yet they had honed exceptional skills.

 

As he looked around the palace he had just helped construct, he gave various pointers.

 

With an expert’s advice, the palace quickly transformed.

 

“And it’s good that you’re using the Kynee I made for you, but please take good care of it. After all, it’s a neat piece.”

 

The Cyclops examined my invisible helmet, the Kynee, which was hanging in a corner.

 

By the way, Arges was the one who made my helmet among the three brothers.

 

When I asked why he made an invisible helmet, his answer was ludicrous.

 

He said he made it to suit my gloomy personality…

 

“…Tsk. Are you listening? And it likes being stroked from the top of the helmet to the bridge of the nose…”

 

That’s not an ego sword, or rather, an ego helmet.

 

He should know better, being the one who made it. I couldn’t understand why he acted this way. It might be a blacksmith’s unique sentiment.

 

Come to think of it, I always felt this way. Why did Poseidon and Zeus get weapons while I got armor?

 

I wanted to wield a cool weapon too, but all I got was an invisibility helmet…

 

“Tsk! Just a helmet! What’s wrong with my masterpiece, the Kynee, which can hide you from the world?”

 

Oops, did I say that out loud again?

 

I quickly calmed down the huffing and puffing Cyclops.

 

Of course, I appreciated the helmet’s power during the war. Even our father, Cronus, couldn’t find me.

 

“Who do you think made it? Obviously, it’s powerful. Do you know how much…”

 

But still, I prefer weapons.

 

“Hey! As a major god now, stop whining! If I make you a weapon, I’ll have to make one for Poseidon and Zeus too!”

 

* * *

 

I wanted to get a weapon this time, but it was inevitable.

 

After all, from his perspective, if he made me a weapon, he would have to make one for Poseidon and Zeus as well.

 

Arges, after taking several rounds around the Underworld I had created, finally left, satisfied and smiling.

 

I clicked my tongue at the back of Arges, who, despite claiming not to be a god of architecture, had thoroughly transformed my palace.

 

“Hades. Are you envious of Zeus’s thunderbolt or Poseidon’s trident?”

 

Styx, who had been seeing Arges off with me, whispered.

 

Of course, I was envious, but there was nothing I could do.

 

Maybe I could sneak to the island where the three Cyclops brothers lived later and ask them to make me one.

 

“If you sink it to the bottom of the River Styx, the proof of the gods’ oaths, and imbue it with power, a usable weapon might be born. What do you think?”

 

This suggestion surprised me.

 

Would she really do this for me? She wasn’t even a blacksmith who found joy in making weapons…

 

When I asked the goddess Styx why, she turned her head shyly and said,

 

“Then… there would be no more debt, right?”

 

Come to think of it, there was one thing she might consider a debt. During the war, I had once saved Styx when she was almost dragged away by numerous Titans.

 

“Give me a bronze sword made by the Cyclops, imbue it with your power, and hand it to me. I’ll bring it back when it’s done.”

 

I handed the bronze sword I had used to the goddess Styx, and she quickly dove deep into the river, disappearing from sight.

 

The Cyclops hadn’t only made thunderbolts, tridents, and helmets.

 

They had also made weapons and armor for other gods, mass-producing numerous ‘failures.’

 

None of us agreed that they were failures, but the Cyclops, with their keen eyes, pointed out flaws.

 

“This seems like a fine weapon to me.”

 

“What are you talking about? This weapon is too weak to contain your powers. If it clashed with Cronus’s sickle, it would break in a few days.”

 

“Then why is this armor considered a failure?”

 

“Try wearing it and falling from the sky to the ground once. You’ll find a scratch.”

 

Our father, Cronus’s sickle, was the world’s best weapon made of adamant (diamond) by grandmother Gaia.

 

Even so, they managed to make three items that could rival or nearly match Cronus’s sickle.

 

Thanks to this, the tide of the battle, which had been a seesaw struggle, turned in our favor, and we won.

 

And one of those so-called failures was the bronze sword I had just handed to Styx.

 

* * *

 

When the horses of Helios, the sun god, had pulled the sun chariot from one end of the world to the other dozens of times,

 

Styx finally returned to the Underworld fortress with my sword.

 

“It’s all done. Would you like to try swinging it?”

 

A one-handed sword, dyed black to suit the god of the Underworld.

 

The bronze sword, which had withstood the bottom of the River Styx after receiving my power, seemed reborn.

 

As I brushed my hand over the blade, which lacked a crossguard and was purely a blade, the sword trembled slightly as if recognizing its owner.

 

“Oh? It seems to have turned out better than I expected.”

 

The unique texture of the handle made from the special oak tree growing on the slopes of Mount Olympus gripped my hand.

 

It was neither too light nor too heavy and felt perfectly balanced.

 

Whoosh—

 

From left to right, the blade cut through the air of the Underworld, and I liked it very much.

 

To test its quality, I placed my prized Kynee on the ground and struck the blade down. Sparks flew from the impact.

 

Clang!

 

“Hades! Why are you testing the sword on that precious helmet?”

 

But the Kynee was the hardest thing I had, so I had to test it there…

 

“All the gods of Olympus are weird in some way… mumble mumble.”

 

Ignoring the muttering goddess Styx, I meticulously examined the blade.

 

No scratches or damage.

 

The connection between the blade and handle was excellent.

 

The transmission of divine power was perfect.

 

How long would this blade last against the full power of a god?

 

Just as I was about to strike the side of the blade with full force, Styx stopped me.

 

“No! Don’t do that! My child will be damaged!”

 

Child?

 

“Huh?! Th… This is just like the Cyclops calling their masterpieces their children…”

 

“I like the sound of that. Then, the sword will be called Styx Sword.”

 

“Ugh… But using my name…”

 

Ignoring the goddess Styx, who covered her face with both hands and mumbled, I sheathed the sword at my waist.

 

Alright, your name is now Styx Sword.

 

“But Styx is me…”