King of Underworld

Chapter 170: A Strange Trojan War (4)

With roars echoing from all directions, the two armies clashed.

Spears imbued with murderous intent slashed through the air, and arrows pierced through flesh in the horrific battlefield.

The tearing of flesh, the clash of metal, and the coppery scent of blood filled the air.

*Swish—Thunk. Splatter! Roar!*

“Die! Die, die!”

“Show them the might of Sparta!”

“Lord Zeus of the heavens, watch over me!”

“God of war, Ares, is watching us!”

Soldiers swung their weapons at each other, shouting the names of the gods they served.

Amid this chaotic battlefield, the ones who truly stood out were those who had reached the pinnacle of heroism.

*Whish—Thunk! Slash!*

“They say the Trojans are a strong army. Doesn’t seem like much!”

“Don’t be reckless, Achilles! Even for you, caution is needed!”

“Hahaha! Patroklos, worry about yourself instead!”

Achilles, considered the greatest warrior of the younger generation, and Patroklos, though not his equal, a formidable fighter in his own right.

“We need to take down their commander… but I can’t spot him clearly.”

“There, that rampaging maniac. Shouldn’t you target him, Penthesilea?”

Penthesilea, Queen of the Amazons and an ally of Troy.

“Hector! Fight me, one on one!”

“Gladly, Ajax!”

Hector, universally acknowledged as Troy’s greatest hero, and Ajax, the prince of Salamis and a towering warrior, led the charge.

Heroes of their caliber slaughtered soldiers with ease, their power unmatched by ordinary troops.

Even though they weren’t from the older generation of heroes who had honed their skills by slaying monsters, they were no less formidable.

“Ugh! Aaaagh!”

“Monster! He’s a monster!”

Soldiers from both sides fell, blood spurting as they collapsed.

Yet, the battle’s tide remained balanced, with neither side gaining a decisive upper hand.

The Greek alliance’s heroes were overall superior, but Troy held its ground thanks to frequent divine intervention, Hector’s strategic prowess, and the morale boost provided by Hades’ temple in the city.

Clouds and mist arose sporadically, and seemingly coincidental interventions from the gods tipped the scales back and forth.

“Aeneas! Flank them from the side! Penthesilea! Hold off Ajax for a moment!”

“Understood, Hector! Troops, follow me!”

“Leave it to me. Amazons, let’s show them our strength!”

“There, the one in the shining helmet—that must be Hector.”

“If we take him down, the war ends. Should I give it a try?”

“That archer on the hill is Troy’s commander, Pandarus! Raise your shields and—!”

“Troy is protected by the Sun God and the King of the Underworld!”

“God of War, Ares, I dedicate this glory to you!”

“God of justice and mercy, Pluto stands with Troy. Charge!!”

The battlefield grew ever bloodier, with soldiers falling lifeless to the ground.

Invisible to mortal eyes, numerous aspects of Thanatos appeared, guiding the dead to the afterlife.

Above the clouds, the gods of war blessed and emboldened their chosen armies.

“Damn it, why is the sun glaring down on just us? It’s blinding…”

“They say the Trojans worship Apollo. That’s why!”

“Gah… That bastard! My spear should’ve struck first…”

“Thank you, Athena, my goddess!”

Shouts and screams filled the air, mortal blood seeped into Demeter’s earth, and the thunder of charging chariots reverberated through the battlefield.

Apollo’s gaze, observing it all, settled on Achilles.

The prophecy foretold he would surpass his father, Peleus.

He moved faster than anyone else in the Greek army.

He wore armor forged by Hephaestus, given to him by his mother, the goddess Thetis.

In his light armor, Achilles’ swift movements and exploits on the battlefield stood out above all.

No one could stop him as he rampaged through the heart of the battle.

‘Because of Achilles, the Trojans are at a disadvantage. That armor is Hephaestus’ work, and that spear tip bears Athena’s blessing, does it not?’

The Sun God concealed himself and approached Pandarus, Troy’s finest archer.

“Pandarus. I am Apollo. Do not turn your head and listen carefully to my words.”

“…!”

“Do you see that commander rampaging through the battlefield?”

“Yes. It’s Achilles. But with that armor…”

“Kill him. I will guide your arrow to the gaps in his armor.”

“…Understood!”

A faint glow surrounded Pandarus’ arrow as he drew his bowstring.

The arrow flew swiftly toward Achilles, who was charging from his chariot.

At that moment, the arrow’s tip became sharper than ever, slicing through the air.

* * *

*Swish—Clang!*

“Ugh!”

The arrow shot at Achilles pierced through his horse’s head, grazed his armor, and fell to the ground.

Athena, who had been watching closely, deflected the arrow with her hand.

However, Achilles’ momentum on the battlefield diminished.

“Achilles.”

“A… Athena, my goddess?”

“The gods are targeting you. Be cautious, Achilles.”

Grateful for her warning, Achilles stepped back to regroup, while Athena disappeared to aid other Greek generals.

This battlefield was no longer a mere clash between mortals.

The intense struggle of the gods’ powers was deeply influencing the soldiers’ morale.

And of course, all this was being watched from the Underworld, ruled by Hades.

A war broke out in the mortal realm.

And what happens in the Underworld when war breaks out? Naturally, it overflows with work.

The rivers of the Underworld swelled as waves of souls poured in, filling the judgment halls.

The heads of the three judges, the brothers Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus, spun endlessly as they issued verdicts.

“A great war has broken out in the mortal realm, indeed.”

“It’s between the Greek alliance and Troy, isn’t it? Wait, these souls should go over here!”

“Lord Hades, the souls arriving this time have committed such grave sins…”

Sigh. Busy as always.

The war between Troy and the alliance caused an overwhelming influx of dead soldiers in their battle attire.

Every day, the three judges worked tirelessly, and Thanatos’ face grew darker with the mounting workload.

“Lord of the Underworld, Hades! Arbiter of mortals! Please deliver your judgment yourself!!!”

Someone prayed to me, invoking the Underworld—not Pluto, but me, Hades—with utmost desperation.

* * *

After several skirmishes between Troy and the Greek alliance.

The Greek camp was littered with the wounded, groaning in pain.

“Ugh… Mother…”

“Thanatos… I see him before my eyes.”

“To die in this distant land… Please place a coin and mint in my mouth…”

Soldiers with severed limbs, pierced stomachs, or crushed by charging chariots.

Those slain by the divine powers intervening in the war.

Countless lives were lost, unable to receive proper treatment.

Amid the cries and moans, King Menelaus of Sparta stormed through his camp in fury.

He marched past the Spartan troops to his tent.

*Whoosh!*

“…Ah.”

Throwing open the flap, he found Helen sitting inside, looking despondent.

Their eyes met for a moment.

His muscular body was stained with blood and wounds, and the stench of iron filled the air.

The former Queen of Sparta, Helen, looked at him and began to cry.

“Sniff…”

“Why are you crying?”

“That’s…”

Menelaus stared at her for a moment, then let out a bitter laugh as he sat down.

“Are you crying because you thought I might’ve killed Paris? Or because I’m still alive?”

“That’s not it…”

“Weren’t you the one who fell for Paris and fled to Troy? And now you miss me? Is that what you’re saying?”

At his accusations, Helen burst into tears, lowering her head.

Her beauty, rivaling that of a goddess, now shed tears as delicate as dew, falling to the ground.

“The screams of our Spartan soldiers outside must’ve reached even here.”

“……”

“All because you abandoned me and fled to Troy. You must atone for your sins as well.”

Inside the tent, silence reigned.

Outside, however, chaos continued as preparations were underway for another charge toward Troy.

“I will slaughter every living thing in Troy and sever Paris’ head. And then…”

“…Please, don’t do that.”

“What?”

“It’s all my fault. Because of me, the Spartans… It’s all my fault. Please, kill me instead.”

Ha!

Menelaus let out a sigh mixed with rough breaths.

The weight of ruling a kingdom, his hatred for Paris, resentment toward the gods.

His anger and affection toward Helen, who betrayed him, and the anguished screams of his Spartan soldiers dying outside.

The fierce aura of a hero who had slaughtered countless Trojans dissipated for a moment.

Though he hated Helen for leaving him for Paris, facing her now softened his resolve.

Did Helen feel guilt? For the death of Spartan soldiers? Did she see herself as the cause of all this tragedy?

She had betrayed him and left, but now… now, she repents? Ha. Hahaha… Hahahaha!

*Whoosh!*

Laughing emptily as he stared at the ceiling, Menelaus suddenly grabbed Helen and stepped outside the tent.

He picked up a spear lying nearby and aimed it at the heavens.

*Whoosh—Boom!*

At that moment, rain poured violently from the sky, thunder and lightning echoing occasionally.

Perfect. It was weather fit for the gods’ wrath, perfect for his voice to reach them.

Clutching Helen tightly, Menelaus stared with resolute eyes.

But within him lay both sorrow and determination.

“I will entrust your judgment to the gods. And I, too, will stand before their scales of justice.”

“Ah. Ahhh…”

“To the goddess of justice, Dike… No, to the god of fairness, Pluto…”

Menelaus hesitated, then shouted to the heavens.

“Lord of the Underworld, Hades! Arbiter of mortals! Judge us yourself!!!”

His thunderous cry echoed in all directions.

Menelaus raised his spear high and aimed it toward the heavens.

Its target… was to fall back upon this very spot, piercing both him and Helen simultaneously.

*Whoosh—!*

The moment the greatest warrior of Sparta threw his spear, he knew.

The spear would fall precisely on Helen and himself.

Clutching Helen tightly, he closed his eyes.