King of Underworld

Chapter 171: A Strange Trojan War – (5)

“God of the Underworld, Hades! Judge of mortals! I implore you to decide directly!!!”

What is this about?

The one shouting at me was undoubtedly Menelaus, the King of Sparta who united the Greek coalition.

The woman he was embracing was Helen, who had been cast out of Troy upon receiving my oracle.

He aimed his spear at the sky and hurled it.

Swish-

A spear thrown by human strength cannot fly endlessly into the heavens.

At some point, that spear would fall back to the ground. According to my predictions… it would pierce both Menelaus and Helen.

Judging by his cries invoking my name and demanding judgment, was he planning to ascend the divine court with Helen?

A human entrusting his complicated feelings about the betrayal of Helen to the will of the gods.

Menelaus was not one of my worshippers.

As the king of the military powerhouse Sparta, he was a believer in Ares, the god of war.

Strictly speaking, it would be Ares who should intervene here… but since he invoked my name and entrusted the fate of himself and Helen to me…

The spear falling from the sky was now under my influence. I could deflect it or let it pierce only one of them.

Swishhhhh!

Without hesitation, I raised my hand and intervened in the falling spear.

A spear that had been plummeting from high in the sky struck down like a beam of light.

The object that would determine their fates descended with a terrifying sound.

Splat- Thud!

“Aaaah!”

Crimson blood splattered across the ground as Helen closed her eyes and screamed.

Was this divine punishment upon humanity?

Menelaus, touching a streak of blood flowing down his cheek, spoke.

“…Let us kill Paris and return to Sparta together.”

Only then did Helen notice the blood dripping from Menelaus’ cheek and the spear embedded in the ground.

The blood that had splattered moments ago was from the spear grazing his face as it passed.

Holding the trembling Helen in his arms, Menelaus whispered into her ear.

“If this is the answer from the god of justice… then perhaps you following Paris was not of your own will.”

“Sob… Sniff… The truth is, it felt as though I was bewitched….”

“…You don’t need to say anything more. Let us end this, entirely.”

Oh, righteous Pluto.

The next day, Sparta’s greatest warrior walked alone toward the Trojan camp armed only with a spear and shield.

Hector, the supreme commander of Troy, raised his hand to momentarily hold back his troops.

“King Menelaus? Do you have something to say?”

At this, Menelaus halted and cleared his throat.

His sharp spear gleamed under the sunlight, and his cold, steady gaze was as piercing as the blade itself.

“Paris! Come out immediately! Face me in single combat!”

“…!”

When his voice echoed, even the approaching Greek coalition troops stopped in their tracks.

The King of Sparta challenging the Trojan prince Paris to a duel?

“If you accept this duel! Regardless of the outcome! Our Spartan forces will cease their attack on Troy and withdraw!”

“Hmm!”

“But if you continue to hide behind your walls and your soldiers!”

Menelaus’ final roar was like that of a lion.

His imposing presence rivaled that of legendary heroes, as the King of Sparta pointed his spear toward Troy’s walls.

“By the River Styx, I swear! I will mobilize all of Sparta’s forces and burn Troy to the ground!”

Menelaus’ roar stirred everyone into an uproar.

A messenger raced frantically toward the Greek coalition’s leadership, while Troy’s supreme commander Hector rubbed his forehead.

‘Madness…’

Swearing upon the River Styx meant that his vow to withdraw if Paris accepted the duel was the truth.

And… if Paris refused to fight, Menelaus would undoubtedly destroy Troy.

From the perspective of the state, it would be logical to send Paris.

In exchange for the life of one man, Sparta’s formidable army would withdraw—a simple calculation.

However, as an older brother who cherished his younger sibling…

“Pariiiis! Come out immediately!!!”

There was no way he could send Paris to face such a fearsome opponent.

Of course, Paris was skilled in his own right. His prowess in archery was acknowledged by all.

But… judging by Menelaus’ imposing demeanor, even Hector himself would struggle against him.

No matter how much he despised Paris, he couldn’t let his brother walk to his death, could he?

After reaching this conclusion, Hector prepared to order his troops to attack.

But then…

“Brother Hector.”

“No, Paris! I told you to stay inside the castle. Why did you come all the way here?”

Paris came out fully armed.

Fully armed, Paris spoke to Hector.

For some reason, Paris seemed as though he had squeezed out every ounce of courage he barely possessed.

Perhaps he had decided this on his own, or maybe someone else had given him the push—no one knew.

“Brother.”

“You fool! Staying inside the castle is the best way you can help. Can’t you just stay put? Hurry back now, or else…”

“Let me duel Menelaus.”

“You insolent wretch!”

“I am a prince of Troy. As the one who caused this war, I will take responsibility.”

Hector looked at Paris with an incredulous expression.

Even if Hector himself were to face Menelaus, he would need to risk his life. Had Paris completely lost his mind?

“Do you have a death wish? Menelaus is Sparta’s greatest warrior. How do you expect to…”

“The goddess Hera appeared and granted me courage.”

“What did you say?”

“With her blessing, I can defeat Menelaus. Trust me and let me go.”

If it was truly the goddess’s favor, then perhaps he could stand a chance against Menelaus.

Confirming the newfound resolve in his usually feckless younger brother, Hector slowly nodded.

“…If it gets dangerous, flee to our troops immediately.”

“Don’t worry. It will be Menelaus who runs.”

With that, Hector watched Paris as he walked forward.

The commander of Troy’s army felt a storm of worry swirling in his mind about his brother.

‘Menelaus is strong. If it gets dangerous, he’ll need to run. Perhaps I should prepare an order to attack… Even if he has the goddess’s blessing…’

At that moment, a thought flashed through Hector’s mind.

‘Wait. Did Paris say he received Hera’s blessing? Hera, the goddess of marriage and family? How could she bless Paris? Does she even support Troy? Paris destroyed Menelaus’s household. Would Hera really support Troy? No… This is a trap! I have to stop the duel at once…!’

“Menelaus! I trust you will keep your word, even in death!”

“The filthy scum finally shows himself! Very well, I’ll cut your throat and return to Sparta!”

However, the duel had already begun.

As the duel started, Paris raised his spear high and shouted.

“Die, Menelaus!”

With a sharp whistling sound, the spear flew fiercely through the air, aiming directly at Menelaus’s torso with the blessing of Hera.

But the opponent was Sparta’s greatest warrior.

Thud!

Menelaus raised his shield and blocked the spear, then unsheathed his sword and began striding toward Paris.

Paris, too, drew his sword from his waist to meet him, but at that moment, Hera’s blessing vanished.

“He… Heek!”

The aura of confidence that had surrounded Paris evaporated instantly. The courage that had filled his heart was no longer there.

As the blade of Menelaus’s sword approached his head, Paris realized his own sword had long since slipped from his grasp.

Clang!

Menelaus’s sword struck Paris’s helmet, shattering it. Paris, unable to withstand the impact, collapsed to his knees, but the duel wasn’t over yet.

The Spartan king swiftly grabbed Paris by the crest of his helmet and yanked it fiercely.

“Gaaah!”

“This day, I’ll drag you to Pluto’s judgment seat!”

The helmet strap tightened around Paris’s neck as King Menelaus used his immense strength to drag him toward the Greek lines.

At this rate, Paris’s head would soon roll at the hands of a Greek soldier wielding a sword.

Unable to watch Paris being dragged any further, the goddess Aphrodite intervened, cutting the helmet strap to rescue him.

Though she didn’t particularly favor him, she couldn’t let the one who had given her the golden apple die like this.

But as she reached out—

“Aphrodite. Don’t save him.”

A black-haired male god, hidden among the clouds, grabbed her wrist.

Aphrodite’s eyes widened as she recognized the cold figure staring down at Paris—the god of the underworld.

“H-Hades? Aren’t you busy with the affairs of the underworld? What brings you here?”

“I had a bit of time to spare.”

“You support Troy, don’t you? If you save Paris…”

“I support Troy, not Paris. As the god of the underworld, I generally refrain from shortening mortal lives, but I’ll make an exception for him.”

While Aphrodite remained restrained by Hades, Menelaus borrowed a sword from a Greek soldier and struck Paris’s neck.

With a splatter, the head of the Trojan prince rolled to the ground.

Slice—

“Uwaaaah! Paris is dead!”

“King Menelaus has won!”

A man blinded by desire, who caused a war—he would find no peace even in death.