The King of the Underworld is Tired

Chapter 111: Heracles of Thebes – (2)

"It seems that Heracles has lost his motivation. No matter what we try, we can’t change his mind. Please, if you could help us..."

Heracles lost his motivation? Has he lost his dream of becoming a hero, or is he just neglecting his training?

If even Chiron’s teachings can’t resolve his lack of motivation...

I’ve seen many heroes lose their way due to a lack of direction or pride, but if it’s about motivation, that’s a slightly different issue.

In Oedipus’ case, he lost all hope of living due to overwhelming despair and guilt, but Heracles wouldn't be like that.

Perhaps he thinks of himself as a monster because of the power he received from Hera’s milk and the River Styx.

Or maybe he’s overconfident, thinking that becoming a hero is an easy feat.

As I pondered this, the goddess Styx, watching my expression, asked me a question.

"Hmm…"

"Hades? What does the parchment say?"

"It says Heracles has lost his motivation. Given his immense natural strength, it’s understandable."

"Ah..."

The conditions for a mortal to become a hero are simple.

They must either possess great physical prowess, wit, divine lineage, or be chosen by fate to complete great tasks to become a hero.

But not all heroes are the same.

There is a huge power gap between a great hero like Cadmus and one who barely slays a few monsters...

What we gods must nurture is someone who surpasses even Cadmus, someone who exceeds the limits of a mortal.

Even if Heracles is destined to become a hero, if he’s lost his motivation, he’ll inevitably reach his limits.

Could it be that something changed because I dipped him into the River Styx?

"...This won’t do. I must see Heracles myself."

"Are you going to visit him personally?"

"Yes. If his motivation has been crushed, I’ll give him a goal and inspire him. I’ll also tell him about the matters related to Hera."

After all, if I don’t tell him about the time he suckled from Hera’s breast when he was born, he’ll be caught up in divine punishment...

To ease Hera’s anger even a little, it might be better for Heracles to personally apologize at the temple…

* * * 

A little later, I headed toward the hero training grounds on the outskirts of the Underworld.

Chiron noticed my approach and quietly came over, bowing his head.

"I am ashamed, Lord Hades. I took pride in being the best educator, but..."

"No, you’ve done well up until now. The fact that the son of Zeus has lost his motivation is more likely my fault. It’s because I dipped him into the River Styx."

"The cause might be that his strength is just too overwhelming. Even if I try to discipline him, he won’t become a hero through forceful methods, and since no weapon can harm him…"

It was easy to tell which one was Heracles.

While all the other heroes were sweating as they sparred on the plains...

One massive, muscular figure lay sprawled in a large X shape atop a high cliff, gazing up at the sky.

A body like steel, a strength that was palpable even in rest, and a divine aura that could make one believe he was a god himself.

But despite all that, his eyes were those of someone who had lost all motivation.

I approached him.

"Are you Heracles?"

"...Who are you? Did Chiron send you to try and convince me again? I’ve already told him I have no intention of continuing my training..."

Approaching him while suppressing my power as I do when appearing before mortals, I received this kind of response.

It’s a pity that he didn’t even bother to look my way and just stared blankly into the air.

"Do you understand how meaningless those feelings of emptiness and futility are?"

"What did you say?!"

"Does the world feel as soft as wool to you? Perhaps the people on the streets seem like weak animals to you. Or do you think there’s no point in training because of your steel-like body?"

"Who are you to say such things?!"

Heracles leapt to his feet, raising his voice.

Now he was finally looking at me.

"No matter what renowned hero you may be, you don’t understand! If I apply even a little bit of strength, everything is crushed and broken. What’s the point of training? A lion is born a lion. Techniques and training are nothing but petty tricks for the weak!"

"Don’t you want to become a hero?"

"A hero? Of course I do! It’s a great honor, isn’t it? That’s why I’m still here. But what I’m saying is that their training is useless for me. No, it was useful once, but it’s no longer necessary. I’ve worked hard enough to become a hero, and now all that’s left is to complete the tasks!"

Heracles glanced down at the heroes training below the cliff.

For someone born with overwhelming strength, training seems trivial. Killing monsters is too easy.

For a demigod who’s never been hurt and suckled Hera’s milk, the world is a dull place.

But even that...

"With such meagre strength?"

"What?"

"There are plenty of beings in the world with strength like yours. Among the monsters you’ll face to complete your tasks, too."

It’s just that he lacks experience and doesn’t realize it yet.

Heracles is strong. Undoubtedly, among humans, there’s no one who could rival him.

But when he steps into the realms of monsters, gods, and Titans, the story will change.

A hero foretold by prophecy is expected to meet a higher standard than ordinary mortals.

To the level where they can tear apart those wretched giants...

"Are you satisfied with just becoming a hero? Can’t you even imagine reaching higher?"

"Reaching higher…"

"By shedding your mortal flesh and becoming a god."

Heracles showed a momentary expression of confusion, then smirked.

"Well... even if you say that. I’ve heard that my father is Zeus, but are gods really that strong?"

"...Look into my eyes. I’ll show you how small you truly are."

Heracles, seeming to realize my identity, stared at me in a daze.

A mix of indifference, curiosity, doubt, and the faintest hint of hope. There’s a glimmer of possibility that he might change his mind.

Right now, my nephew’s strength rivals that of a lesser god. He won’t die from this.

For a moment… shall I show him the Underworld?

* * *

"…Look into my eyes. I will show you how small you really are."

A goal? Was the one encouraging me to become a god truly a god himself?

But even the great hero Cadmus, the son of Ares, killed a demigod... Even if he is a god…

The moment Heracles met the cold gaze of the man with black hair and a stern expression,

Heracles' world was turned upside down.

Sssssss-

A feeling like he was being sucked into those black eyes.

He couldn’t breathe. Yet, somehow, he was still alive.

His eyes were open, but everything was dark.

The eerie sensation surrounding him made his body tremble.

Where am I?

He was falling. Further and further down.

To the bottomless depths of the abyss (Tartarus).

A rising wave of nausea. His vision flipped. His body wouldn’t move.

For the first time in his life, Heracles felt the powerlessness of knowing his strength was useless.

Ah.

Is this death?

.

. .

. . .

* * *

Crash!

"Ugh! Ah… huh… haah…"

"Calm down. It was just an illusion."

As soon as our eyes met, Heracles collapsed.

A demigod, gasping for breath after feeling the sensation of death. His pupils trembled violently, and his legs, as if drained of strength, couldn’t keep him standing.

But, true to his nature as a hero blessed from birth, despite sweating profusely as if caught in a downpour, he hadn’t died.

Of course, I had expected as much…

Heracles must be the first and last mortal to survive after looking directly into my eyes when I used my full power.

I suppose this is what it means to be the son of Zeus. I spoke to my nephew, who was clutching his throat and trying to catch his breath.

"Your father, Zeus, is far stronger than I am. And yet, the son of that Zeus is satisfied with merely being a hero worshipped by mortals? How disappointing. If your mind remains unchanged, then turn around and return to the living world. No one will stop you."

"...Hah… Who are you?"

"I am your father’s brother."

"Then you’re Ha—! Cough… gasp."

I gave Heracles some time to recover as he knelt on the ground, struggling to catch his breath.

After some time passed… he cautiously glanced at me and then carefully spoke.

"…To achieve the feat of becoming a god, what must I do?"

"Have you now decided that you want to become immortal?"

At my question, Heracles paused briefly before continuing.

"Well… If any man of Greece dreams of achieving greatness and becoming a hero, then to become a great hero like King Cadmus would be the ultimate goal. But to become a god… that would be the pinnacle of such feats. If the path has appeared before me, wouldn’t I be a fool not to take it? Even if…"

His eyes now carried a different light than before. A glimpse of a hero who had found his goal and was ready to take on the challenge.

A grand ambition… the desire to become a god… That is what will make you a great hero.

Even after experiencing what just happened, Heracles still dared to meet my gaze once more.

Even after experiencing the Underworld, still trembling with fear, even after realizing who I am…

"…Even if it means angering a high god and facing death."

Are you looking at me directly again?

"…Impressive."

I’m very pleased. This is the spirit of a great hero.

This is the owner of the name that remains etched in my memory even after thousands and thousands of years.

I looked at him with satisfaction.

"Then I shall tell you about yourself and what you must do when you return to the living world."

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