Chapter 108: A Second Journey with the Gods
The Lord of the Underworld of Mesopotamia, the man who usurped the role of Hades despite not being a god, stepped onto the chthonic lands of Greece.
His golden hair still blazed like molten metal. His bare upper body was corded with muscle, traced over by crimson circuits of light, and the golden war skirt at his waist shifted lightly with every step.
A brilliant Star Boat cleaved through the great darkness of the Greek Underworld.
Rampant laughter trailed in its wake.
Gilgamesh.
He was not a god. Yet as the Hero King who once unified the wide Mesopotamian plains and had nearly extended his hand over the Aegean Sea, as the original template from which countless later heroes were cast, as the King of Heroes, he had already surpassed the realm of most chief gods.
And during the thousand years after he seized the Underworld, enduring and defying death itself, his already monstrous essence had only grown more terrifying.
Even Hades did not dare take him lightly.
So when Zeus's order descended, and that arrogant, unrestrained laughter rolled through every layer of the Greek Underworld, the denizens of the underworld stirred.
Charon, the ferryman, braced his oar across his shoulders like a shield.
Thanatos, God of Death, and Hypnos, God of Sleep, both tightened their grips on their weapons, expressions taut.
Hades, King of the Underworld, departed his throne and came in person.
At the same time, in a very different hell, Rowe and Athena were drawing close to Tartarus.
In the original Greek mythos, the world was born from Chaos. Then came Gaia, the Earth; Tartarus, the Abyss; and Eros, Desire.
Gaia, the earth itself, and Eros, the drive to propagate life, required no further explanation. Tartarus, however, was defined as the primordial furnace-like atmosphere that once wrapped the surface of the newborn planet.
The young world had been encased in that seething Abyss until its environment stabilized and the Tartarus layer sank down, retreating into the deepest core of the Earth.
Now, Rowe and Athena once again set foot within that same Abyss.
After descending from the surface through a vast fissure, they watched as the rivers of lava in their view grew thicker and thicker, like burning blood coursing through the veins of the planet, until finally it engulfed everything they could see.
They reached the lowest depths.
Yet they did not stand on any kind of ground. There was no solid earth in Tartarus. The entire world was nothing but currents of rolling flame, endlessly surging.
Athena gripped her spear and shield in one hand, and with the other, she took Rowe's hand.
"Lord Rowe, hold on to me."
Her red eyes, turned slightly to the side, shimmered faintly in the glare of the magma. Her veil floated in the scorching wind of the Abyss, rustling softly.
Her voice was clear and cool.
"The Abyss has no direction. Without a fixed anchor, it is very easy to lose your way."
Rowe gave her a sideways look.
He had every reason to suspect this goddess of having ulterior motives, but her words were not wrong.
This was a world entirely composed of magma. Even space itself was unstable and shifting.
Even gods could be swallowed and lost.
"Then let us go."
He twitched his ears. In the flow of hot wind, he could faintly hear something else beneath the roar of the lava.
Roars.
They were likely the Titan Giants the gods had spoken about.
"Leave that part to me."
Athena smiled slightly and raised her spear.
"In the name of Athena, may the breath that circulates through all things guide me to the place where war is inevitable."
Encountering Giants would naturally mean battle.
So to seek war was to seek the Giants.
Without this method, finding the enemy's location in the ever-shifting Tartarus would be nearly impossible.
In such a place, the value of an excellent scout became painfully clear.
Rowe nodded.
"Then let us go and finish this quickly."
He would resolve the Giants, and then, if he was lucky, the Giants would resolve him.
"Is Lord Rowe in such a hurry?" Athena sounded faintly dissatisfied.
"Is it not better to end a war as quickly as possible?"
"Is your Lordship truly so confident?"
"With Victory at my side, it would be strange if I were not."
"Tha… thank you for your Lordship's trust."
"?"
He was tempted to say he had only been flattering her so she would move faster.
I am just good with words, he thought helplessly. I did not mean I was placing you in my heart.
Rowe looked at Athena, who had instantly brightened like a satisfied cat, and could only remain silent.
"Speaking of which, I have always been curious," Athena said. "How did Lord Rowe return from the Sea of Imaginary Numbers? Even gods with control over natural authorities cannot easily find their way back to the world without an anchor in the form of a living believer."
Because I beat your father and he dragged me down afterward.
Of course, Rowe could not say that.
"…No intention of answering? It is fine if you do not wish to say."
Athena was unexpectedly talkative.
Her armor and helmet gave her a stern martial air, and the plain white dress that fluttered around her added a dignified divinity.
Rowe, however, could not shake the feeling that she was an active hazard to his life.
Once a person started to suspect something, it was difficult to return to their previous state of mind.
Athena herself did not seem troubled by it at all. She yearned for wisdom, and naturally, she yearned for beings of wisdom. Yet as a virgin goddess, unlike Artemis, who had been influenced by Enkidu, Athena understood very clearly that no matter how much she longed, that longing could only remain as such.
So she simply chose to cherish every moment spent at Rowe's side.
To feel his presence as closely as possible.
It was not love. It was an attraction that followed from her nature.
She understood that distinction very well.
She was the Goddess of Wisdom and War.
What she pursued was the insight that could grasp all phenomena, and the courage to defy all things. She was not a goddess of love, and the craving for romance that humans clung to was not something she sought.
Yes.
Athena was that steadfast.
"We are here."
The Goddess of Wisdom's gaze shifted. Her steps, suspended above the molten flow, paused, and the hand that held her spear and shield tightened. Her voice sharpened.
Like the flash of a drawn blade.
Rowe followed her line of sight.
The silhouettes of Giants loomed ahead.
They stood motionless in the magma-drenched world of Tartarus. Their bodies were like mountains of stone, streams of lava from the Abyss winding over them like grotesque patterns. They had no hair at all, only bare, rock-hewn faces with exposed fangs and pairs of golden eyes.
There was nothing in the Abyss to use as a scale, but compared to Rowe, it was easy to judge that even the smallest of these Giants were more than a hundred meters tall.
Their sheer size translated directly into overwhelming power.
And along their colossal frames, thick divine radiance coiled.
It was the imprint embedded in them by the older gods, the Titans.
Like the Hydra that had broken through to the surface earlier and had been defeated by Rowe, they were monsters, and at the same time, gods.
They were like demon gods given form.
So then, could they kill him?
The Hydra had been enough, in theory.
If not for Poseidon's interference, Rowe might have brushed against death that day.
"I hope," Rowe whispered, "you do not disappoint me."
Hand in hand, he and Athena appeared on the battlefield, and countless golden eyes immediately swiveled toward them.
The next heartbeat.
The world roared.
'An earth-shattering bellow shook Tartarus, deepest pit of the Underworld.'
'Wisdom and Courage. Hero and Sage.'
'Man and God.'
'This battle, too, would be inscribed into eternity.'
'Becoming a monument of heroes.'
"Come then, Giants."
Rowe lifted his hand. His robe snapped in the heat-laden wind.
Behind him, the Gate of Babylon unfolded, and countless portals bloomed into existence.
Blinding sword light surged out.
In that instant, the wind howled, and ten thousand blades roared like dragons.
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