Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

"Goddess be my witness, even if I don't have enough wealth now, I will repay you in the future, this is Odysseus's promise."

Having made a solemn promise, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Odysseus spoke in a deep voice:

"Can this new game begin now?"

"Of course, feel free. But the outcome will be no different."

With a slight smile, Andrea felt a bit sentimental for a moment; this feeling of intellectual domination...truly fascinating indeed.

······

The grand assembly in the Mortal Realm was still fervently underway, and preparations for the wedding at sea had also begun, but these were merely spectacles of the surface world; below ground, there was nothing.

Even the invitations sent out by the Divine King seemed intentional or accidental in avoiding the gods of the Underworld, as if they didn't exist at all.

Under the light of the Nether Moon, the corners of the Underworld remained perpetually desolate.

The Waters of the Styx rolled onward, with countless souls churning and struggling within.

By a large poolside, a gray-robed goddess watched the contorted and despairing souls in the water, and couldn't help but find it somewhat amusing.

Such are Humans, arrogant and ignorant. Continue your adventure with My Virtual Library Empire

The closer they are to the gods, not only do they fail to be grateful, but they even attempt to challenge and deceive... if not for their offering of Faith, perhaps they would have been destroyed by the gods once again.

"What are you watching?"

"Is this... Tantalus?"

Unbeknownst to others, Moanda, now the Goddess of Life of Olympus, previously the embodiment of the Golden Apple Tree, appeared beside the lake.

She followed the gaze of the gray-robed goddess and naturally saw that madman who had cooked his own son to serve as a dish to All Gods, a son of Zeus.

As eternal beings, All Gods always mastered numerous eternal forms of punishment over the long eons, just like the one at hand.

They transformed Tantalus's flesh into fruit trees, his blood into pool water, and then locked his soul in the water, subjecting him to cold and hunger.

Only his chin was above the water's edge, the fruit tree's bent branches hanging over his head. Yet, whenever he tried to drink, the water's surface would drop, just a fraction out of his reach; and when he tried to eat, the wind would blow the branches up, letting the fruits drift just beyond his reach.

Forever unattainable, compounded by an ageless eternity—this was All Gods' punishment for him.

"You asked to meet me here... what does that mean?" smiled Moanda.

"I just wanted to tell you that, as gods of the Underworld, we may not have much presence, but we do have one advantage: living long enough," Eris spoke softly, being one of the oldest deities, elder to all but the Primordial Titans and Primordial Gods.

However, they often noticed things that the powerful ones did not, like once beside Mother Earth, there also existed someone called Moanda.

"Is that so, that's truly remarkable," Moanda responded, not sensing any sincerity and seemingly unfazed by the other's probing.

But Eris had just asked casually, and she didn't actually plan to do anything.

After all, this enmity between former master and servant seemed to align perfectly with the discordant goddess's intentions.

"According to the Divine King's wishes, hand it over to me," Eris spoke indifferently, stretching out her hand.

And Moanda said nothing; she simply flipped her palm, and a Golden Apple, glowing with light, appeared in her hand.