Chapter 133 Setting Sail For The Future
Chapter 133 Setting Sail For The Future
Ch. 133: Setting Sail For The Future
"Back by the crack of dawn, Lord Hades?" Walter asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as we stepped out of the car. He adjusted his pristine white gloves, then inclined his head respectfully. "Might I brew you a spot of tea, my lord?"
I exchanged a quick glance with Hecate. She looked weary, her dark eyes lined with fatigue. "Tea might help," I muttered. "Hecate?"
Hecate shook her head, managing a faint smile. "Apologies, my lord, but I must attend to the matters of the Underworld Corporation until you return from your training. And I still have to deal with the traitor as you requested."
Her dedication was both admirable and exhausting. "You look like hell itself, Hecate," I said. "Come in and have at least one cup with me. It might be a while before we see each other again."
For a moment, a flicker of hesitation crossed her face, but she nodded. She followed us inside, heading to the dining room, and Walter disappeared briefly, returning moments later with a tray of tea, chocolate biscuits, and porcelain cups gleaming with a silvery sheen. We sat opposite each other on the table. I took a tentative bite, and the taste surprised me – dark, rich chocolate with just a hint of spice. I hadn't realized how much I'd come to appreciate this flavor.
Hecate sat in silence, her gaze focused intently on her tea, the steam curling upward like delicate tendrils of smoke. Her silence stretched, weighed down with thoughts I could only guess at.
"It's not anyone's fault, least of all yours, Hecate," I said, breaking the silence. "Hermes… had his reasons, whatever they were. We can't change what happened, and I'm fine, so let's move on."
Her hand clenched around her teacup, her knuckles pale against the dark cup. "No, Lord Hades," she murmured, her voice trembling with a cold fury. "He might have had his reasons, but weighing your life like that only shows what he truly is. I won't go against your wishes, but forgiving him is out of the question."
The venom in her voice was startling, a rage buried under layers of loyalty and sorrow. I wiped my mouth with a napkin, choosing my next words carefully. "I understand, Hecate. Hermes hurt you – he hurt us both. I won't tell you to forgive him. But if you let that guilt consume you, it'll haunt you, and I can't have you self-destructing yourself."
Her gaze finally met mine, her eyes blazing. "How can you forgive him, after everything?"
I ran a hand through my hair, leaning back. "Forgiveness isn't a matter of fairness, Hecate. It's… self-preservation. Holding onto anger like that will only eat away at you. And I need you whole."
Her eyes fluttered, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. She wanted to say something when her head started to bob on the spot. It did not take long for her to realize, "You… drugged my tea?" Her words slurred as her head tilted forward, and her body slumped gently onto the table.
"I can't have you self-destructing, Hecate," I whispered to myself. I couldn't heal her, but I could protect her from herself, just as I'd done with Talos. Both she and Hecate bore their pain similarly – by throwing themselves into work with relentless intensity. It was unsustainable.
"Walter," I called softly, gesturing to her limp form, "take her to one of the spare rooms."
Walter stepped forward from the shadows, his movement so seamless it was as if he'd been lurking nearby, waiting. Perhaps he had been. He gave a curt bow. "As you wish, Lord Hades."
I watched him carefully lift Hecate, her dark coat cascading over his arms. "When she wakes," I added, "pass on a message: Have your eyes out for the midnight bird."
Walter gave a nod, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Will you be away long, my lord?" He seemed to have caught wind of my plans to leave.
I stood, feeling the weight of the journey ahead. "I'm not certain yet. But she'll need to keep watch in my absence."
"Understood, sir," he said, his voice laced with a sense of gravity as he disappeared with Hecate.
I took a moment to collect myself, then prepared for the trip. This journey was a necessity – I needed strength, enough to face Poseidon, enough to protect those who'd thrown their loyalty behind me. I glanced down at the dogs, their eyes alight with excitement as they seemed to sense the importance of the trip. They'd be coming with me; perhaps in training, I could tap into the latent power they held.
As I headed to the car, a dozen thoughts spun through my mind. Was this the right path? Leaving everything, even temporarily, felt like an abandonment. But I was Hades – if my power couldn't shake mountains, then what right did I have to rule the Underworld?
The drive to the docks stretched in silence, the path winding through shadowed streets. I knew the route well from the last time in had been there, yet at the moment it seemed longer, as if fate was stalling my journey. My hands gripped the steering wheel, a surge of uncertainty thrumming beneath my skin.
Calamity Zero. Pandora.
Even now, their weight pressed down on me. And yet, it was that weight that stirred something else – a longing. To be a god in the truest sense, to feel that power that Zeus and Poseidon wielded with ease. If I could hold it, control it… perhaps I could save them all.
The docks came into view, emerging from the mist like a ghostly apparition. Dim lights cast an eerie glow on the water, and shadows moved along the shore, vague and indistinct. The air was thick with salt and the pungent scent of fish, mingling with the tang of smoke from the ferries anchored along the pier.
It was busy tonight, unusually so. The dock workers moved like shadows, murmuring in low voices as they loaded and unloaded crates marked with symbols I didn't recognize. I parked the car, stepping out into the thick night air. The dogs leapt out with me, their eyes gleaming as they sniffed the air, seemingly alert to every scent.
I moved forward slowly, scanning the bustling dock. This place, which was normally deserted, seemed alive with secrets. Shadows darted between crates, and the occasional glint of a blade caught the moonlight. It was as if something dark had settled here, something lurking beneath the surface.
Then I saw him – Charon. The ferryman, clad in dark robes that blended into the night, leaned against a lamppost, his skeletal hand clutching a long, crooked staff. His gaze shifted as I approached, his eyes a strange, luminous shade that seemed to pierce through me.
"Lord Hades," he greeted, his voice a low rasp. "You venture out this early in the day? The day has yet to wake."
I nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze. "I'm here to ask for your help, Charon."
He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. "And what do you seek, my lord?"
"Strength," I replied, feeling the word settle heavily in the air. "I need to be stronger – strong enough to keep my allies safe."
Charon's lips twisted into a faint, knowing smile. "Strength comes with a cost, Lord Hades. And some costs are… irreversible."
I swallowed, steeling myself. "I'm prepared for that."
"Your soul is in chaos I see but I could care less about you now. Or do you perhaps have a way to convince me?" His voice piecered my skin.
I knew this would not be easy, in Charon's eyes I was someone who had betrayed his trust but even he would want something from me. "We can work something out. That is if you are willing."
He held my gaze for a long, tense moment, then nodded. "Very well. But be warned, this path you seek may change you."
As he spoke, a strange stillness fell over the dock. The noises of the workers faded, and for a moment, it felt as though the world had narrowed to just the two of us. A cold wind swept over the water, carrying with it the faint echo of distant voices – voices that seemed to call out from somewhere beyond, tugging at my soul.
I looked back at the dark water, feeling a strange sense of clarity settle over me. This journey was inevitable. Power was what I needed to protect those who had given me their loyalty. Yet a part of me wondered – at what cost?
The wind picked up, scattering papers and stirring the murky waters around the ferries. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the underworld and the lives bound to it pressing down on me. But within that weight was a seed of determination, a spark that whispered of something greater.
For a moment, I stood there, lost in thought, gazing out over the water. This dock, this journey, held the promise of power – but also the risk of losing myself. The gods often spoke of sacrifice, of the things one had to give up for strength. I understood that now, perhaps better than I ever had.
Turning back to Charon, I gave a nod. "Let's go."
As we stepped onto the ferry, the mist curled around us, swallowing the dock and everything behind me. There was no turning back now.