King of Underworld

Chapter 142: The Story of Orpheus (1)
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The Story of Orpheus - (1)

Orpheus.

Born to Calliope, the eldest of the Muses, and Oeagrus, king of Thrace, he was a demigod with exceptional talent.

Recognized for his musical gifts, he learned to play the lyre directly from Apollo himself. His prowess was deemed heroic enough to gain him entry into the training grounds of heroes in the underworld.

Aboard the Argo, he used his lyre to fend off the Sirens’ song and even calmed storms.

Renowned as Greece's greatest musician, he wed Eurydice, a dryad nymph. Yet, fate was unkind. While Orpheus was away on the Argonaut expedition, his wife...

"Excuse me, miss... might you be a nymph?"

"Eek! Don’t come any closer!"

"Wait, just a moment..."

Crunch.

"Aaah!"

Aristaeus, the god of farming, rustic life, and beekeeping, approached her merely to speak. Yet she, mistaking his intentions as impure, fled—and met her end by a venomous snakebite.

How many times had beautiful nymphs fallen victim to male gods?

Though, for once, Aristaeus was entirely innocent in his intentions.

Returning home from his voyage on the Argo, Orpheus found his wife’s lifeless body and broke into wretched sobs.

"Ah... Eurydice! Eurydice! I swear, I will bring you back!"

Determined to enter the underworld, Orpheus found the road through Thebes blocked and had to seek another way down.

Armed only with his lyre, he set out, asking directions along the way with his music until he reached the underworld’s entrance.

A path leading into the pitch-black depths lay before him.

“Haa...”

Yet there was no guarantee he could save his wife by venturing here. No certainty the god of the underworld would value his talents enough to return her life.

If a living man dared to step into the underworld, his end would most likely be death.

The chances were high that he’d never escape, even if he did find Eurydice.

Orpheus, however, was unperturbed.

Standing before the path leading downward, he gave his lyre one last check. Drawing on the grief from witnessing Eurydice’s death, he began to play.

♬ ♪~ ♩

More than the storm he had calmed, more than the Sirens he had subdued...

Only a performance of his life could hope to bring back Eurydice.

Eyes closed, Orpheus moved forward.

Sight no longer mattered; his music guided him to his goal.

~ ♪♩

At the sound of his anguished lyre, stones blocking his path slid away.

The deadly aura of the underworld, which plunged the living into terror and death, could not penetrate his music-protected body.

In the oppressive darkness where even an inch ahead could not be seen, only the sound of Orpheus’s lyre resonated clearly...

The First River of the Underworld, Acheron.

Charon, the ferryman, scoffed at the madman playing a lyre as he approached.

Yet the melody eased Charon’s weary soul, battered by centuries of ferrying spirits. The lamenting tune seemed to embody human suffering, intensified by the silent tears falling from Orpheus’s closed eyes.

Though Charon had lived through endless ages, ferrying souls across the river, for once, his heart wavered.

“Please, take me across... Lord Charon.”

“...Just this once, mortal.”

The ferryman, who never allowed the living to cross, motioned for him to board.

~ ♪

“Mother... forgive me.”

“Ugh. Curse that lyre!”

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“Haaah...”

As they crossed Acheron, Charon and the souls around them wept, the ferry filling with wails as even the dead, usually devoid of tears, joined in mournful cries that covered the river of grief.

The Second River of the Underworld, Cocytus.

True to its reputation as the River of Lament, its waters were bone-chilling. Even the dead, devoid of flesh, recoiled from it.

In Cocytus’s waters, one’s past is said to be reflected...

“Hahaha! You are truly beautiful. Now, we will be together forever...”

“Yes, indeed. Even among the nymphs, I am...”

There, Orpheus glimpsed the moment of his marriage to Eurydice.

A knife-like agony tore through his heart, yet he crossed the river without hesitation.

The Third River of the Underworld, Pyriphlegethon.

The flames of this river were said to purify souls. It looked unbearably hot.

Would he be consumed the moment he stepped in?

Its flames seemed strong enough to instantly burn his mortal body.

Yet...

No fire could burn hotter than his heart’s longing after losing his wife.

The Fourth River of the Underworld, Lethe.

The notorious River of Forgetfulness, erasing all memories of the living world.

Without hesitation, Orpheus plunged in, playing his lyre.

All that mattered was that memories of Eurydice remained. All he desired was her life restored.

With unwavering determination, an iron purpose, and a burning resolve, he played on.

Such was the hero’s will that the waters of oblivion could not wash away his memories.

~ ♩

Finally crossing the fifth river, Styx, he pressed on toward Hades’s citadel.

With tearful souls surrounding him, Orpheus encountered Cerberus, the guardian of the underworld’s gate.

“Grrr...”

Cerberus, poised to tear apart the living man, halted. For the first time, the fierce beast felt the sensation of sorrow.

Beyond that... Cerberus hesitated.

Orpheus’s spirit had changed from his passage through the rivers.

Just as Heracles had raised his status by performing great labors, Orpheus, solely by the power of his music, had grown.

Confused, Cerberus, unsure of what to make of this half-god, allowed him to pass.

At last, Orpheus stood before Hades.

The beautiful, golden-haired goddess beside the throne wept openly at the sound of his lyre, but the black-haired god seated on the throne remained unmoved.

Was the lord of the underworld truly unaffected by such a heartfelt performance?

Orpheus stopped playing and fell to his knees, crying out.

“Lord of the underworld! I am but a humble mortal named Orpheus. Please, I beg you, return my wife, Eurydice, to life!”

A moment of silence passed before the god of the underworld spoke.

“Revive the dead? You came to the underworld relying on nothing but your musical skill?”

“...Please, I implore you!”

“There is precedent with Tantalus. If her death was truly unjust, I may grant your wish. Wait here.”

At Hades’ gesture, an attendant approached and, at his command, left the hall.

An agonizing wait passed, and the attendant returned, whispering into Hades’s ear.

“Your wife, the nymph Eurydice, perished from a venomous snakebite—a tragic accident, but... there is nothing to be done.”

“No... this can’t be!”

“As a reward for the feat of reaching me unaided, I will spare your life. Now, go, hero of music.”

The god’s icy words shattered Orpheus’s spirit.

No... he wasn’t a god of mercy; he was the ruler of the dead. Yet, Orpheus refused to abandon his goal.

He had come to bring back Eurydice, and returning alone meant nothing. If he could not bring her back, he’d rather die by her side.

“Please... I beg you!”

“I’m sure you thought it a simple thing, reviving a nymph. That’s why you ventured here.”

“...”

“Yes, it would be simple. Yet for that very reason, I cannot grant it.”

“Why...?”

“If I resurrect the dead on a whim, the boundary between life and death would collapse. It is a matter that threatens the world’s balance. Unless her death were as grievous as Tantalus’s, even a plea from Zeus would not sway me.”

Orpheus raised his head to look at the king of the underworld.

The golden-haired goddess beside the throne seemed to wish to speak on his behalf, yet she dared not defy Hades’ authority.

But Orpheus could not abandon hope...

Even if it meant incurring Hades’ wrath and being cast into Tartarus, he would not leave without Eurydice.

“Just once... hear my music.”

“Hm?”

“I will play a song worthy of your heart’s delight! Please, bring back Eurydice!”

The grieving husband gripped his lyre once more, determination in his eyes.

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