Boom!
With great effort, the massive black boulder was finally pushed up to the summit. Sisyphus kept his back braced against it as he bent down, hauling a nearby chunk of stone and wedging it firmly into a crack beneath the boulder, blocking any chance of it rolling back down the steep slope.
At last, as the blond convict cautiously shifted his body away, the monument to humanity's defiance and deception of the gods was completely secured atop the peak.
His task finished, Sisyphus strode back down with light steps, wearing a wild, unrestrained grin as he swaggered his way back in triumph.
So this was the blasphemer from the Kingdom of Corinth. After hearing the ancient serpent's brief introduction, Heracles and the others who had gathered around Samael sized up the newly recruited guide, their expressions ranging from curiosity to mild bewilderment.
"I'll ask you," Samael said. "After suffering forced labor in the Underworld for so long, do you know the way to the endless plains beyond the River Lethe, far upstream from the River Acheron?"
With everyone present, Samael called Sisyphus over and posed the question directly.
"Let me think… Hmm. The simplest and most direct method would be to take Charon's ferry across the River Styx. The crossing point is just up ahead."
Sisyphus thought it over and answered seriously, but then he glanced at the group, his expression turning troubled.
"However, if my senses aren't mistaken, you're all still alive. Charon might not be willing to ferry living souls across. That makes things tricky…"
Samael paused for a moment. After a brief consideration, he realized that this Charon had nothing to do with the so-called 'Teacher Ma' from the Athens academy. The similarity was purely in name.
Unfortunately, that meant things were even more troublesome.
The waterways of the Styx were vast and tangled. If the ferryman didn't come looking for passengers on his own, Samael really wouldn't be able to find a better solution in a short time.
"Use these…"
Just as Samael was starting to feel stuck, seven coins radiating an unusual divine aura were tossed from midair, landing in front of the group.
What was this supposed to be?
The ancient serpent turned a wary gaze toward the Death god who had unexpectedly offered help.
Thanatos lifted his eyes and swept his gaze across the group. His eyes lingered briefly on the familiar figure of Sisyphus before he gave a faint nod. Clearly, this prisoner and jailer had developed a surprisingly decent relationship through their long-running cat-and-mouse routine.
Then his dark gaze shifted to Heracles. The icy stiffness on his face softened slightly, his facial muscles twitching as he forced out a somewhat awkward smile.
"Your mother and your stepfather are doing quite well here."
Heracles clearly recognized the figure before him. He put away the coins, then nodded slightly in thanks.
Heracles's stepfather?
Right, now I remember. Rhadamanthus, one of the three judges of the Underworld.
Heracles's mother, Alcmene, had remarried that Underworld judge through her son's connections.
Good grief. His biological father was Zeus, king of the gods. His stepfather was a supreme judge of the Underworld. His adoptive father was the king of Thebes. And his mother was the granddaughter of the great hero Perseus.
When you really think about it, this thick-browed, broad-shouldered guy had an absurdly powerful background.
No wonder, in Greek legend, he could enter the Underworld and pull out "Theseus," who had been detained by Hades for trying to steal the god's wife.
Looking at it this way, was Thanatos's show of goodwill partly out of respect for Heracles?
Samael chuckled, put away the gold coins, then stepped forward and bit his index finger. Raising his hand, he traced a circle of golden, wedge-shaped divine runes in midair.
"Thanks. For everyone's sake, I'll have to ask you to stay here for a while."
The ancient serpent lightly patted Thanatos on the shoulder. His smile was bright and gentle, but his tone left no room for refusal.
This was a covert operation. He was not foolish enough to pin their safety on a connection as tenuous as the one between Thanatos and Heracles.
Oh wow, locking up the God of Death. This guy's methods are even wilder than I thought.
Sisyphus crossed his arms, the corners of his mouth lifting into a shameless, gleeful grin as he watched the show unfold. He had no intention of speaking up for Thanatos.
"You're looking for the [Elysian Fields]? I can take you there…"
Unexpectedly, Thanatos lifted his gaze from somewhere unseen. After a brief silence, he calmly stated their true objective and even offered to act as their guide.
"Well, that works out nicely," Samael said with a smile. "The more people, the livelier it'll be."
He glanced at the small, innocent figure behind him, then nodded in agreement and gestured for Thanatos to lead the way.
Samael himself grabbed little Medea by the arm and led the others to follow. In the dimness, his eyes flickered thoughtfully.
Thanatos's gaze lingered on the child longer than on anyone else. Could it be that the rumors of Medea one day ruling the [Elysian Fields] weren't baseless after all?
But what did that have to do with the God of Death suddenly switching sides?
Unable to make sense of it, the ancient serpent temporarily set aside his doubts and gave his teammates a discreet, wary look.
They nodded in tacit understanding, spreading out slightly and forming a loose encirclement, subtly hemming their guide, Thanatos, in the center.
They reached the ferry crossing without incident. Under Thanatos's direction, Samael and the others casually flicked the Zeus's Gold coins they had tucked between their fingers into the surging waters of the River Styx.
Ripples spread outward across the river's surface, heavy with gray-black mist. Soon, the sound of a long pole stirring the water reached their ears, the crisp splashing growing closer.
Before long, a gloomy, hunched old man dressed in tattered hemp robes appeared, gripping a long pole as he guided his ferry slowly toward the shore.
"You again?"
Charon, ferryman of the River Styx, frowned slightly when he saw Thanatos standing at the dock. When his gaze shifted to the people beside him, his expression darkened even further.
"And you brought a bunch of living people?"
Thanatos spoke up with his usual poker face, his tone flat.
"Take us to the Infinite Wilderness. You know the place. Any problem with that?"
Charon stirred the water with his pole. A swirl of golden divine essence rose from the depths and flowed into his nose and mouth.
Like an addict, the old man inhaled deeply, his expression turning hazy and blissful. After savoring it for a long moment, he finally looked at the group and spat out his verdict.
"Costs extra."
Samael's breath caught, and he broke into a violent coughing fit. For a split second, he almost asked whether the old man also went by some nickname like "the Very Profitable One."
But when he saw that face like dried tree bark and the deep creases carved into it, he decisively killed the thought. Without hesitation, he pulled out a pouch of Zeus's Gold from his spatial array and tossed it onto the boat.
Catching the strong faith energy radiating from each coin, Charon's face immediately lit up. He eagerly waved them aboard.
These were offerings placed in grand temples, blessed day and night by endless prayers. Enough to keep him satisfied for quite a while.
The gods of the Underworld, bound to death and suffering, rarely enjoyed such offerings.
To certain beings, items steeped in living vitality and pure faith were like irresistible leaves to an addict.
In any case, as long as the money was right, once you were on the boat, gods and ghosts alike would keep their mouths shut. That was the ancient Greek understanding of Charon, the ferryman of the Styx.
That was why, during funerals, the ancient Greeks often placed coins in the eyes or mouth of the dead, to bribe this old codger.
Wasn't the Underworld supposed to be simple and honest? Why was it that across divine hells everywhere, the unspoken rule was always the same—everything demanded money?
And while we're at it, serious condemnation is in order for a certain Mesopotamian goddess. As a deity of love and life, she was somehow even more obsessed with hoarding money and jewels than the monsters and demons of the Underworld.
As Samael grumbled inwardly, Charon planted his pole firmly into the riverbed. The ferry lurched forward, ignoring all rules as it surged upstream against the raging current of the River Styx.
...
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