Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

Chapter 459 - 125: The Path to Dismembering the Origin_2

"You’re right, no one has ever managed to destroy the Underworld before, and even in the real world, I can’t do it yet, let alone talk about having any experience in it."

The voice was calm, as if Laine was talking to himself rather than to these false gods.

Hand on the hilt of his sword, he stood in the void with his sword as a prop, his gaze passing over Hades, beyond the entire Fields of Truth, looking towards the source of this illusory Underworld.

"So although I know it probably won’t work, I still want to try. To see how much impact disintegrating the Underworld can have on this world."

The next moment, his sword tip pressed down, and the final blade touched the Underworld soil. In front of Laine, as soon as he drew the Black Sword, Hades had already made his move.

Although his power was contained and did not leak, as the god of the Underworld, Hades felt a terrifying threat from that sword. Even though he still didn’t believe Laine could destroy the Underworld, he couldn’t tolerate the other party desecrating the symbol of his godhood.

But it was meaningless. Although it seemed right in front of him, it was as distant as the sky. Until Laine pressed down the Black Sword as if no one were around, Hades couldn’t make any meaningful resistance.

So under the shocked and furious gaze of the gods of the Underworld, that seemingly ordinary Black Sword touched the soil of the Underworld.

······

Splash...

At the entrance of the Underworld, on the Acheron River, River of Sorrow, Charon sat in his wooden boat, once again heading towards the shore.

Lately, because of wars in the Mortal Realm, his job had become much busier. After all, as the ferryman of the Styx River, only Charon could carry the souls of mortals across this endlessly rolling river.

Of course, corresponding to the busyness, his ’earnings’ had also increased quite a bit. After all, according to the regulations, each person crossing the river must give Charon a silver coin as the fare for the passage—this is also the origin of a custom in the Mortal Realm.

Even though they dread death so much that they are unwilling to mention the names of the gods of the Underworld, mortals still place a silver coin in the mouth of the dead when they bury them. Otherwise, the souls of their loved ones could only wander at the entrance to the Underworld or sink to the bottom of the Styx River, unrestful for eternity.

Of course, no matter what, Charon is a god, and what he actually needs is not the silver coin itself. What he truly gains is the remembrance placed upon the silver coin by the deceased’s family and their awe of him, the ferryman.

"Hey, I really hope the wars in the Mortal Realm last a bit longer, days like these don’t come along often."

An old smile appeared on his wrinkled face as Charon picked up a goblet of nectar from the boat and took a satisfying sip. He looked towards the shore, where a dense crowd of souls was jostling there.

"It’s just that there’s one downside—the times of turmoil seem to have brought a lot of mortals whose bodies are left uncollected after death."

He complained casually, but it was a happy trouble, so Charon quickly put it out of his mind.

He summoned his power to make his wooden boat significantly faster, hurriedly making his way towards the shore.

As he got closer, the eager and awe-filled eyes of the souls became clearer, brightening Charon’s mood even more.

He knew what these souls were thinking; staying here meant only enduring the cold wind and hunger, while crossing the Styx River, even if their actions in life weren’t enough to allow them into the Elysian Fields, they could at least stay on the Narcissus Plains. In this situation, naturally, they were all desperate to leave here first.

But the right to choose who gets on the boat first is in my hands... With a sly smile, Charon stood up from the boat, ready to pick out a few pleasing ones.

"Hmm? What are they looking at?"

Suddenly, Charon seemed to notice something different from usual. The souls on the shore were indeed looking in his direction, filled with awe—but also with fear.

And some were shouting loudly about something, or kneeling on the ground, trembling with dread.

"What new trick is this..."

Unaware of any anomalies, Charon was somewhat puzzled. This was the Underworld after all; there might be things that made mortals fear, but certainly not the embodiment of the Styx River. So he leisurely shook his clothes, then turned around to check.

"I wonder—"

Whoosh—

Darkness swept before his eyes before he could see anything, and before he could react, a flash of black light instantly erased Charon’s divine body from this world. Behind him, the black light continued to spread at an inconceivable speed across the Styx River, diffusing far beyond.

The souls of mortals were instantly extinguished, the sparse vegetation turned to dust. There was no sound, only ’disappearance’; on the banks of the Acheron River, not a single whisper could be heard.

All fell silent, and only the Styx River continued to flow.

After a while, the water rippled slightly. Through the surface of the river, one could see a phantom shadow coalescing below the water.

As the ferryman of the Styx River, Charon obviously hadn’t died just now. But as he regained his senses from the recent shock, he was still somewhat bewildered.

"What just... happened?"

Feeling lost, Charon didn’t know what had happened, but the inexplicable force just now seemed to come from the direction of the Fields of Truth. So he looked through the river’s surface towards the center of the Underworld.

Everything was as usual, as if the recent horror were but a dream. Except for the Underworld being emptier, there was only that black spot high in the sky...