(Greek Mythology) The Abyss
Chapter 19
Perhaps spurred on by his previous experience in the abyss, Nyx returned home and immediately immersed himself in the kitchen, determined to hone his culinary skills, and perhaps even take Hemera with him.
Thus, the Temple of Night began undergoing renovations at a rate of three times a day.
He genuinely had no idea how Nyx could turn ordinary ingredients into the effects of high explosives.
If Nyx's cooking was an environmental disaster, then Hemera's cooking was a divine disaster—truly culinary monstrosity. The bizarre shapes were a major challenge to the psychological resilience of any living being; he swore he couldn't conjure those strange colors on his palette.
In this respect, they truly were mother and daughter.
Charon had moved beyond the immobile state of infancy and entered childhood, and as expected (just kidding), he had grown into a mischievous child with maximum indiscriminate destructive power.
However, none of this was Tartarus's focus, as the realm of the gods had been anything but quiet lately.
The seemingly harmonious but actually estranged King and Queen, the twelve Titans each harboring their own ulterior motives, the scheming servants, and even the lowest-ranking human maids were not without their own hidden agendas. It was a veritable real-life palace drama, which Tartarus found quite entertaining.
No wonder Erebus and his wife had recently refused to allow Hemera to leave Hell. With her well-protected, naive (and foolish) nature, she could easily be outmaneuvered by her best friends without even realizing it.
Speaking of which, wasn't Hell a bit too quiet? Seeing how lively it was outside, Tartarus wondered uncertainly. (No need to be uncertain, Hell wasn't just quiet, it was deathly still. You're only just realizing your perspective is a bit slow.)
As the world gradually matured, various creatures were born one after another: beautiful fairies, elegant elves, alluring mermaids… adding countless forms of life to the earth and sea. In comparison, Hell seemed much more somber. He silently put the mirror away, refusing to admit he'd forgotten to create life.
To put it simply, Gaia is a creation-type deity, so the earth, as her physical form, naturally gave birth to all kinds of life; she, the goddess of the earth, didn't need to worry about it. Tartarus, however, is different. Have you ever seen a dark-elemental deity whose laws are related to creation? It's rare enough that it doesn't involve destruction. If he weren't, despite his dark attributes, he wasn't essentially closer to chaos, he couldn't even create Hell; no matter how powerful he was, it would be useless. So don't expect Hell to spontaneously generate any life.
Okay, it's not entirely impossible, but the monsters that formed from the energy he released when creating Hell were all incredibly jarring, so jarring that Tartarus didn't even want to acknowledge them as life.
Therefore, in conclusion, if you want other life to be born, fine, but please do it yourself!
Unfortunately, Tartarus hadn't remembered this for a long time, and given his quiet nature, no one bothered to remind him.
So, the current situation was that the vast underworld was sparsely populated, with only a few gods and monsters, eerily silent.
"It seems I really should create some new life," Tartarus thought seriously. (You finally remembered?)
"But what should I create?" Looking at the abyss outside the window, Tartarus was troubled. Creating was something he really wasn't good at.
"Something too ugly is definitely out of the question. The monsters are already an eyesore enough; he didn't want any more bizarre creatures polluting his eyes. The attribute certainly couldn't be light. But it didn't need to be all dark either, otherwise it would be too monotonous. The abilities couldn't be too weak. Even if their combat strength wasn't great, they had to have unique special abilities. He didn't want a bunch of decorative vases that were only pretty to display; aesthetics and strength were both essential to his ideals.
" Furthermore, their intelligence couldn't be low. The future Underworld, as the place of reincarnation for all living beings, would undoubtedly have many affairs. Although he didn't intend to manage it himself, and there would be a Hades in the future to handle it, it was still a place he had created; he couldn't completely ignore it. To avoid a shortage of manpower, he should prepare by creating suitable beings to reproduce on their own. When manpower was needed later, he could simply select from among them. And to handle those affairs, their intelligence needed to be sufficient.
Thanks to the rich variety of novels from his previous life, which provided him with countless materials, he didn't need to rack his brains; he could simply create by comparing them. (Just admit you want to be lazy, no need for excuses.)
Looking at these newly created beings, Tartarus had a new idea. Most gods are born that way, meaning they are born gods. But there are very few exceptions. Dionysus, one of the twelve Olympian gods, became a god only after fusing with a divine essence, and that divine essence is the biggest difference between gods and other living beings.
Godhood, in essence, is the condensation of laws. Therefore, he was curious whether someone who could master the laws could condense a godhood and become a deity through their own abilities.
Thinking it through, he acted on it. Initially, he considered using the Netherworld soil carrying a trace of his own laws to create it, but after consideration, he felt it was inappropriate. He then eliminated many other options before finally making his decision.
What better choice was there than his own blood?
A dark red liquid, imbued with immense power, slid down his pale, almost transparent wrist, landing on the ground and immediately absorbed by a cluster of spider lilies before him. It then transformed into countless young girls. The newly born flower spirits were somewhat bewildered by this unfamiliar world, but after quickly receiving the inherited memories from his soul, they immediately knelt on the ground, bowing their heads in respect for their creator.
Spider lily spirits born in darkness, absorbing the blood of the Lord of the Abyss.
Sensing the laws similar to his own emanations within the flower spirits before him, Tartarus was satisfied. It would have been even better if that unexpected event hadn't occurred.
Life is like a joke; you never know when it will strike you hard.
The girl kneeling at the front seemed no different from the other flower fairies born at the same time, perhaps only slightly stronger, but the three large, golden characters above her head were damnably familiar.
Very good, very good. Another transmigrator has appeared, and among the flower fairies he created.
Does he have something here that attracts transmigrators? Why are they all appearing in Hell? What happened to randomness?
He casually dismissed them. He didn't want to see her for the time being, and even less did he want to see those three blindingly bright characters. Thankfully, those characters would disappear in a few days, otherwise he would have definitely thrown this flower fairy to the ground.
Doesn't she know he hates light?