Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

"Now, am I the Queen of the Underworld?"

Stretching languidly, Persephone felt an unprecedented sense of ease as she embraced her new state. The cold sensation emanating from deep within her soul was not only bearable but somehow comforting.

Then, turning around, the goddess stared at Hades for a good while. Suddenly, she asked,

"So Hades, now that I am your Queen, do you wish for me to bear you a prince?"

"Gods do not need heirs," was the terse refusal.

Silently, Hades clenched his fist, and the remaining six fruits returned to his body.

Having resolved a long-standing concern, Hades also did not forget another matter he had been planning to attend to.

"I'm going to check on that dead soul which has an odd aura. Do you want to come with me?"

"You're really no fun," she said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. Yet, over the centuries, Persephone had realized that the Underworld's ruler might have had many reasons for seeking a queen, but they did not include the same motives as Zeus.

Therefore, the goddess merely waved her hand indifferently to Hades's reaction, then turned and looked playfully toward the back of the temple.

There, she sensed a familiar presence. It was also she who had found her own hidden valley that brought the bronze-chariot-riding Hades to her.

Initially, Persephone had been somewhat grateful to her, but that feeling gradually faded. Whenever she was alone with Hades, the nymph seemed to insist on asserting her presence, even going so far as to say annoying things when the goddess was by herself.

Like claiming she was the best candidate to be Hades's wife or recounting all she had done for the Dark Lord, warning Persephone not to harbor delusions. Or mocking her heritage and past, along with other nonsense, seemingly forgetting that, no matter her flaws, she was an inherently immortal deity, while the nymph was but dust never heeded by gods.

Previously, Persephone was not quite sure how to deal with her, knowing well her divine status, although she never minced her words. However, now the situation was different.

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So the goddess extended her hand and with a light grasp, the naiad named Minta was caught in her grip.

"Wait, Persephone, what are you doing?"

Minta, seemingly taken aback by being snatched up so suddenly, had a voice tinged with panic, which quickly turned to confidence.

She did not believe Persephone would dare harm her. After all, she had worked for Hades for so many years. Immediately, she began to explain,

"Your Majesty Hades, I wasn't trying to eavesdrop on your conversation. I was just coming to bring you..."

Her voice cut off abruptly. A mere fluctuation of the power in Persephone's hand silenced the nymph's annoying voice forever.

Persephone's fingers then closed in a gesture of finality, intending to utterly erase the clueless nuisance. It was then that a pale hand grasped her wrist.

"What's the matter, can't bear to let her go?— If so, why didn't you stop me from killing her just now?"

Without turning around, the Queen of the Underworld was certain that Hades had just been fully capable of stopping himself. Yet, at the next moment, the response from the King of the Underworld made her burst into laughter.

"You'll have to learn to be economical, Perse, from now on, the Underworld has a part that belongs to you, too."

Releasing his hold, with a casual flick of his hand, Minta's figure began to blur. Soon, what remained in her place was a sole mint plant.

Of course, this world had not known 'mint' until then; it was newly created by Hades. He believed the plant's unique aroma might serve as a reminder to those who would use it later on.

"Furthermore, Perse, since you killed her, from today onwards, the tasks that were once hers are now yours to bear."

If it weren't for a genuine lack of alternatives, how could Hades have tolerated this self-willed maid? Fortunately, it now seemed that his Queen of the Underworld was a very capable individual.

As his words fell, the King of the Underworld turned into light and sped toward the ground; he had already been delayed for quite a time. Watching Hades's retreating back, Persephone gazed for a while before turning around, smiling as she picked up the mint plant and gave a gentle toss.

The next moment, countless seeds of mint drifted off in all directions. Reminded of something by the scene, the goddess also conjured the very same nameless fruit that she had previously tasted.

"As for you, you shall be called pomegranate."

She spoke softly, and thus on that day, two new plants came into the world, the Underworld gained a Queen wielding authority, and Hades finally reached the limits of what a True God could achieve. The next step would be the nearly insurmountable chasm of the heavens.

As for the deceased Naiad... aside from the two deities present, much like the mint that would spread across the world, no one remembered her name.

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Outside the world.

Tartarus.

Centuries passed in the outside world, but here, tens of thousands of years hurried by.

Under chaotic time, everything was so erratic; however, since the start of the Third Epoch, several abnormalities had altered this place, allowing the originally orderless Abyss to undergo curious transformations.

Layer upon layer of space stretched outward, dissecting the merged realm into distinct planes, and even when observing its spatial structure, it bore some resemblance to the Nine Hells. However, it was far more inhospitable here, and the division of its layers lacked any discernible order.

Yet, there was one aspect in which even the Nine Hells could not compare: the sheer number of hierarchical levels. Beneath Tartarus' vastness, thousands upon thousands of dimensions, both large and small, were birthed.

In its unique set of rules, no one knew exactly how many planes existed within because the innate chaos of the Abyss might never have paid any heed to such details.

And under such circumstances, even if a layer born from chaos was nowhere near as powerful as the Nine Hells, this simple multiplication in quantity could not, like the layers of Hell, bring any significant reinforcement to the world's inner cycle. But in the face of such an immense accumulation of quantities, it still displayed another kind of beauty.

Regardless, when compared to the complete Abyss, the Nine Hells were much weaker, after all, as the main portion outside the world, Tartarus still possessed power that even the current Laine was no match for. For Hell to close this gap was likely to take an entire era.

Of course, these newly formed layers did not harbor life, as at present, in the entire Abyss, there were only seven beings that truly qualified as living.

And just at the very 'bottom' of these million layers, already at the nadir of all worlds, within a void of chaotic hues, six towering figures of various appearances floated there. Before them, an indescribable colossal entity bobbed up and down, showing signs of waking up at last.

She had intended to sleep a bit longer, but the upheavals in the Underworld had startled all the Primordial Gods, naturally including the Abyss. As the beginning of life in the Abyss, she, too, was affected. Thus, a consciousness that had slumbered for an era slowly stirred, bringing with it the throbbing power of Tartarus.