(Greek Mythology) The Abyss of the Underworld
Chapter Twenty-Five
Later…
"But I still can't adapt to it here." Hermes said, her face contorted with frustration.
"Did I say you had to adapt?"
"Huh?" Hermes was dumbfounded.
"Anyway, your status is high enough. As long as you don't act recklessly at crucial moments, you can do whatever you want normally. I just want you to change your playful attitude. If you really become like those gods, then I'll deal with you." Tartarus was unusually exasperated. Why couldn't Hermes be a little smarter? He had to explain everything clearly before she understood.
"Is that so?"
"Otherwise?" Tartarus retorted.
"Since I can usually do whatever I want, why are you telling me not to care about humans?"
Tartarus scrutinized Hemera until she was practically sweating profusely before slowly speaking, "Hemera, while I'm pleased that you have such sound values, don't forget, these are only the second generation of Silver Humans. Next, there will be Bronze Humans, Iron Humans. Are you sure you can watch them perish without developing psychological problems? Let me make it clear, I'm not responsible for providing you with psychological counseling."
God of the Abyss = Psychotherapist
Imagining the usually aloof and indifferent Tartarus suddenly smiling warmly, Hemera shuddered. The image was too beautiful for her to bear.
Shaking her head to banish the terrifying thought, Hemera had to admit that Tartarus was actually right, but…
"Is it something you can just ignore?" Hemera lamented, "This is too much for me to handle."
"Don't worry, the one thing gods have in abundance is time. Sometimes they wake up and realize how many generations have passed. With time, you'll naturally stop caring."
No one knows better than Tartarus how cruel and irresistible time is. Just like how he's become what he is now, and the memories he once thought were unforgettable and would never fade have long since become blurred. Even with unwavering resolve, what good is it? You can persist for tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of years, but what about millions, tens of millions of years? By then, so-called perseverance is nothing but a joke.
"If that's the case, then what's the point of you telling me all this, Your Majesty?" Having caused her unnecessary worry, Hemera felt her young heart was severely wounded.
"It was meaningless to begin with, just to prepare you mentally, so you won't later worry about how you've become cold-hearted and ruthless, and then think that's wrong or inappropriate. Morality isn't necessary here."
"Is that how it's said? Morality isn't necessary? Your Majesty, are your values sound?"
"Well, my values are warped," Tartarus replied calmly.
Don't expect someone who grew up amidst intrigue and scheming, and then spent their entire life in the world of Greek mythology, to have perfectly sound values. At least he's not so twisted as to plan revenge against society or have any cruel or bloody hobbies—that's already quite good.
"..." Such an honest answer, Your Majesty. Is it really okay to be so frank about your own shortcomings?
"So, Your Majesty, are you corrupting children? I was originally a perfectly healthy, positive, and optimistic young person of the new century, but Your Majesty has corrupted my values to the brink of danger. You're truly doing me a disservice."
"Young person? You're over a thousand years old and still call yourself young."
"At least I look young," he mumbled vaguely, then asked curiously, "By the way, Your Majesty, how old are you?"
Upon hearing this question, Tartarus paused, then began to recall, "I was seventeen when Chaos brought me here. After that, I was in chaos, initially unconscious, and I don't know how much time passed. When I regained consciousness, it had been nearly a hundred million years since creation, and not long since then, but probably several hundred thousand years. So, I..."
As he spoke, Tartarus fell silent. He hadn't realized how old he was until he calculated it. "Hundreds of thousands of years…not a long time…Your Majesty, your sense of time is a bit unusual. But Your Majesty, you're so old, why do you still look so youthful? I look older than you."
"Did I want to look like this?" Tartarus, whose sore spot had been unintentionally touched by Hemera, spoke in a less-than-friendly tone. It's not my fault I didn't grow up.
Hemera, seeing Tartarus's less-than-pleasant expression, wisely changed the subject. Of course, she wouldn't say anything amusing; she had just parted ways with the past, and her mood was already low.
Even knowing it was for her own good, was she not allowed to complain a little? (So, whether that unintentionally touched sore spot was truly unintentional is still debatable. Believe me, even the most adorable and clumsy girl has her moments of weakness.)
"Speaking of which, Your Majesty, why did you tell me all that back then?" Although it was a change of topic, Hemera was genuinely quite depressed. They say prolonged pain is more than short-term pain, but how many people truly have the courage to preemptively inflict pain upon themselves? Now that Tartarus has pulled this stunt, she no longer needs to struggle and hesitate, but this feeling is truly unbearable.
So, to be able to cleanly and decisively sever ties with the past after realizing there's no turning back, without any lingering attachments, Your Majesty, you are truly decisive.
They say being ruthless to others isn't truly ruthless; being ruthless to oneself is. Your Majesty, you are truly ruthless.
However… blinking, Hemera felt like she had discovered something. Your Majesty actually didn't want to suffer alone, so you wanted others to experience it too, right?
A typical mindset of wanting others to suffer as well as oneself.
"Your Majesty, how could you do this? This kind of self-destructive behavior is wrong," Hemera declared righteously.
"I admit it's not beneficial to me, but harming others…" Tartarus paused, then said in a serious tone, "Hemera, I'm doing this for your own good." (Keep pretending.)
Hemera was speechless. Although Tartarus's motives were indeed impure, the result was genuinely for his own good. Recalling the blood and tears she endured being thrown into the Mirror of Illusion, Hemera silently wept. Sure enough, this was His Majesty's usual style.
This feeling of being abused and then having to thank others… it's damn bittersweet.