Heracles burst into the room, which was filled with smoke and fire. The wooden house had already been completely ignited, and many of its structures had collapsed.
The merciless flames licked at Heracles' body, attempting to completely engulf him, but Heracles, having completely shed his mortal coil, directly ignored the raging fires and collapsing pillars. Like a "War" machine, he smashed through walls and fallen debris with his shoulders, charging all the way to the innermost room where his wife and children were.
Busting open the door, Heracles, however, did not see his wife, Mégara, or their two children in the room. There were only three soldiers holding short swords and wearing helmets, standing in a pincer formation. As Heracles burst into the room, they turned their heads, looking at him in surprise.
Heracles noticed the style of armor on these three soldiers; it was precisely that of the Mycenae Kingdom soldiers he had dealt with before.
"Remnants of an enemy nation? Have you come to avenge your king?"
Heracles roared, "Where are my wife and children? Where have you taken them?"
But these three Mycenae Kingdom soldiers did not answer him. They merely tightened their grip on their swords, shouting slogans he couldn't understand, and advanced toward him.
"You won't listen to me?"
Heracles' expression darkened. "Then don't blame me, soldiers of the enemy nation."
He took two steps forward, and the three Mycenae Kingdom soldiers immediately charged. The first soldier, leading the charge, had already gripped his short sword and thrust it at him. Heracles did not dodge or evade the blade. The short sword struck his smooth chest, producing a loud clang as if hitting a steel plate, and then broke into two pieces.
Next, Heracles directly extended both hands and lifted the Mycenae Kingdom soldier. He grabbed the soldier by the neck and leg, and with a gentle twist, a 'crack' sound was heard. The Mingye soldier's lumbar spine was snapped in half by Heracles with ease, like a piece of firewood.
Thud.
After killing the first soldier, Heracles gently tossed him aside and continued forward. At this moment, the second and third Mycenae Kingdom soldiers also charged at him. With determination to die, they continued to fearlessly swing their blades at him. Heracles also raised his hand and delivered a slap.
With a loud crash, his slap directly split the second Mingye soldier, along with the blade in his hand, into two halves. Then, he took another step, grabbed the third soldier's blade, crushed it into two pieces, and then, gripping his neck, lifted him up.
"Speak," Heracles asked coldly, "Where are my wife and children?!"
However, upon hearing Heracles' interrogation, the Mycenae Kingdom soldier merely kicked his legs incessantly, uttering a series of incomprehensible sounds.
"You won't speak?" Heracles gradually tightened his grip. "Then you shall die."
Even battle-hardened soldiers were no different from infants in front of Heracles. As he gradually tightened his hand, the Mingye soldier's neck quickly succumbed to the pressure, emitting a crisp sound.
But during this process, the Mycenae Kingdom soldier continued to repeat the word he didn't understand. It wasn't until Heracles completely crushed the soldier's neck that he finally, somewhat vaguely, understood the meaning of the word in the Mingye soldier's mouth.
He was shouting in the language of the Greek World, and the word was "father."
"Father, father..."
Hearing that faint sound, a cold sweat suddenly broke out on Heracles' body.
The scorching sensation vanished. The Mingye soldier before his eyes blurred and distorted. Finally, as his vision cleared, Heracles saw where he was.
He stood inside his wife and children's bedroom. There were no flames in this room, only the large hole he had made when he burst in. And the Mingye soldier in his hand was his beloved daughter. Her body was now completely stiff, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
"Ah?!"
Heracles was so startled that his grip loosened, and his daughter fell to the ground. He turned around, and behind him, the two "Mycenae Kingdom soldiers" who had died so tragically had transformed into his wife, Mégara, and his eldest son. They too now lay in a pool of blood, and his body was covered in the blood of his wife and children.
Standing amidst this tragic scene, Heracles' body slowly stiffened.
...
Thud.
Rhadamanthus stood in Amphitryon and Alcmene's home, surrounded by ghost fire, silently watching the old man, whose life and soul he had just stripped away, fall onto the room's floor.
Then, he quietly turned around, looked at the beautiful woman beside him, whose face was filled with horror and anger, and said to her:
"Rest assured, Alcmene, Amphitryon dies now because it is his destiny. Death is not your destiny, so I will not lay a hand on you. However, you are to become my wife from now on."
"Rhadamanthus!" Alcmene said angrily, "Do you really think I will meekly obey the command of someone who killed my husband? Even if you are a god!"
"I don't care," Rhadamanthus said indifferently. "All of this is the arrangement of destiny. I don't care if you're happy or not, or if you'll love me in the future. I only need you to become my wife, and that is enough."
"You wish!"
Alcmene cursed.
Rhadamanthus completely ignored her resistance and walked directly towards her. Alcmene drew a short sword, intending to defend herself. She was quite resolute; after all, Zeus deceiving her by taking on her husband's appearance had become a lifelong shadow for Alcmene, and she had secretly sworn never to betray Amphitryon again. However, Alcmene was merely a mortal. How could she resist Rhadamanthus, who had already become one of the Underworld Gods? Her blade couldn't even touch Rhadamanthus' body.
After she fruitlessly swung her short sword several times and realized she couldn't harm the Three Judges, Alcmene prepared to commit suicide with her sword. At that moment, Rhadamanthus also grabbed her arm.
"Come with me to the Underworld."
Rhadamanthus snatched Alcmene's short sword and was about to take her down into the earth, but just then, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his foot and quickly re-emerged from the ground.
He looked around and found that the room had, at some unknown point, become filled with divine flames. These flames were as vibrant as blood, carrying a power that horrified him.
Creak.
The door creaked softly as it was pushed open from outside. Then, a robust, handsome man with fiery red hair walked in from beyond the door and stood in front of Rhadamanthus.