[Greek Mythology] The Demons Under My Command - Chapter 60

The Vows of Three Thousand Years

The first toll of the bell rolled from the gilded spire of the Temple of Marriage before the morning mist in Fragrant City and Spring Capital had fully dissipated.

The street vendors, just setting up their stalls, paused and looked up. The emblem of the God of Marriage, which had hung permanently on the temple’s spire, was visibly fading, replaced by an unfamiliar silver-white pattern.

This was a sign of a new god’s descent. The entire capital fell into a silence so profound that one could hear the dew dripping from the leaves.

No one dared to make a sound.

This city, wrapped in hot springs and the scent of flowers for a thousand years, had only ever recognized one protector since its birth: Hera, the God of Marriage.

The vendors clutched their ladles, the tea drinkers froze their cups halfway, and mothers muffled the mouths of children chasing butterflies in the alleys. All eyes were glued to the direction of the Temple of Marriage, waiting to see what form the new god’s procession would take.

But they waited for half an hour, and only the wind, carrying petals, swept across the stone road.

No divine envoy arrived on a cloud, and no divine light tore through the mist. It was as if the change in the emblem had been an illusion caused by the morning fog.

It wasn’t until the noon sun warmed the people that a second bell toll suddenly erupted, more urgent and deafening than the one in the morning.

The silver-white pattern on the spire began to recede, and the familiar red mark symbolizing Hera slowly started to re-illuminate.

Within a single day, Fragrant City and Spring Capital had seen two changes in its divine patron, which was extraordinary for any city under a deity’s domain.

Everyone kept their eyes wide and quiet, waiting to see what changes would occur in this peaceful, unassuming city.

Yet, as they waited, nothing seemed to change. Fragrant City and Spring Capital had always been under the jurisdiction of the Temple of Marriage, and Hera had faithfully served as its protector for a millennium without fault.

The only widely circulated rumor was that Hera, the God of Marriage, once had a mortal wife. To prolong her wife’s life, this selfless deity willingly allowed herself to be possessed by lust and abuse, falling as a demon. Her wife, whose love was stronger than gold, chose to forgo becoming the Divine King to bring her back.

Dorian had discreetly asked whether they should stop the spread of these rumors.

“It is the truth,” the woman calmly replied.

Dorian understood her meaning.

The rumors intensified.

The whole world knew that Hera, the God of Marriage, once had a mortal wife.

She was beautiful, lovely, lively, and cheerful, like an angel.

This was the consistent detail across all versions of the story.

Winslow and Dorian had been worried that the Divine Lord, having lost Li Jia, would wallow in self-pity and become utterly dejected.

But she did not.

Hera stayed in the deep sanctuary every night. When dawn broke, she went to the Temple of Marriage to handle her duties, diligently attending to them and administering rewards and punishments as always.

If there was any difference, it was that her efficiency in processing matters was faster, nearly doubling her original output.

The degree of a god’s fulfillment of their divine duty determined the magnitude of their divine power.

Initially, Dorian thought Hera was working day and night to quickly restore her divine power by resolving fate scrolls (Yuan Tie).

Later, she discovered that Hera would complete one extra fate scroll daily to exchange for the small, misty lanterns condensed from the blessings and prayers of believers.

She would make a trip to the Underworld every day, placing a small misty lantern in the land of the dead, repeating this ritual day after day without fail.

Hades, at first, scoffed, thinking she had been stimulated or had gone mad.

“If she really died, you should indeed light a soul lantern for her, after all, you were husband and wife.”

“Keep your mouth shut.”

Her chilling eyes, like poisonous snakes, brushed past him, making Hades tremble with cold.

After the woman left, he grudgingly cursed out loud: “This is my house! You’re lighting lanterns in my house, you really are crazy!”

Hades muttered to himself, trying to regain his composure: “But, I’m too lazy to argue with a widow.”

One day, Hades was astonished to find his land of the dead filled with lanterns, shining as brightly as day.

He patiently mobilized a dozen undead guards and counted the small misty lanterns with them.

“One.”

“Two.”

“…”

“One million, ninety-five thousand…”

Upon reaching this number, Hades was stunned. He calculated on his fingers and then stamped his foot fiercely, cracking the stone floor: “This madwoman has been placing them for three thousand years!”

Three thousand years is enough for mortal dynasties to change dozens of times, and for a deity to forget a deeply unforgettable past.

But Hera refused. Every day after completing her duties at the Temple of Marriage, she would clasp a newly acquired small misty lantern and step into the Underworld, religiously following her routine.

In the beginning, the guards would try to stop her, but later, seeing that Hades himself turned a blind eye, they merely watched the red divine figure from afar, bending down to place the lanterns in the land of the dead, her movements as gentle as if she were tending to a fragile star.

“She clearly vanished, body and soul…”

Hades muttered to himself, reaching out to touch a nearby small misty lantern. The little lantern swayed, its glow painfully stinging his eyes.

He was the God of the Underworld; what kind of dead person hadn’t he seen? He had even secretly tried to search for Li Jia for Hera, but the result was nothing. He only held dominion over the dead.

This could only mean that the person had not died. But if she hadn’t died, Li Jia was not a god; her mortal body could only endure a hundred years.

How could she have never arrived in the Underworld in three thousand years?

Facing such a tricky problem, continuously delaying a solution was not an option. He could only seek help from the higher-level goddess of Night.

The mention of her immediately gave Hades a headache. That primordial god was tired of everything here and had abandoned the Underworld to him, walking away. If it weren’t for her fate lamp still burning in the Temple of Night, he would have thought something terrible had happened to her.

After a thought, Hades found his idea naive.

Who could possibly harm that venerable one?

Hades stood before the Temple of Night, the deepest part of the Underworld. The temple doors were tightly shut, the star carvings on the lintel covered in thick dust. Only a faint wisp of night mist leaking from the gap in the door proved that this was not a long-abandoned, empty hall.

He took a deep breath, raised his hand, and knocked on the door. His knuckles struck the cold stone door, creating a dull echo that reverberated far into the empty Underworld.

“Lady Nyx.”

His voice was a few degrees lower than usual, carrying a hint of nervousness he himself hadn’t detected: “I have a matter to inquire about.”

The hall was silent for a long time. Just as Hades thought the primordial god wouldn’t respond, he heard a lazy female voice drift out, softly saying, “Hades, it’s been three thousand years, and this is the first time you’ve actively called for me.”

Hades recounted the story of Hera and Li Jia in detail. After listening, the female voice said, “Come in.”

The temple doors slowly opened. Hades stepped inside, instantly enveloped by the thick night mist.

There were no lights in the hall, only the faint glow of the starry dome above. In the center of the stone platform, a bronze lamp burned quietly. The flame was pure black, devoid of temperature, yet it steadily illuminated the surrounding space. That was Nyx’s fate lamp, her only connection to the Underworld.

Nyx’s physical form was not in the Underworld.

She didn’t look at Hades and asked softly, “What do you want to ask?”

Hades was momentarily stunned, then nodded: “Does the Lady know of Li Jia’s whereabouts? She neither returned to the Underworld, nor could her mortal body have survived three thousand years… Hera has placed one million, ninety-five thousand misty lanterns in the land of the dead. If this continues, I won’t be able to stay in my own Underworld!”

Nyx finally looked up at him, her eyes carrying a faint trace of helplessness: “If she is not here, then she might be in other worlds.”

“Other worlds?”

Hades’s voice abruptly rose: “But even a god must sacrifice half of their divine power to cross worlds. How could a mortal like Li Jia…”

He didn’t finish his sentence as he saw Nyx raise her fingertip. A wisp of night mist condensed into a translucent screen in her palm.

The screen held no specific images, only countless fragmented light points flowing—small worlds of men and women, old and young, and all sorts of differences.

“Ten thousand worlds, full of wonders,” Nyx said calmly.

Hades’s brows furrowed: “World-crossing? Besides a primordial god like you, who has the power for that? Even if Hera knew all this, what could she do?”

Nyx glanced at him, a slight curve at the corner of her lips: “You are right. This farce must end. I will just find the person for you. No need for such a fuss.”

“After all, the light pollution is too severe.”

“I can’t welcome my bride.”

As Hades walked out of the temple door, a very light breeze drifted from the direction of the land of the dead, carrying the warmth of the misty lanterns.

He looked up, and a million lanterns formed a sea of stars in the darkness, the flames gently flickering, like a beautiful, hazy dream.

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