Myths Reawakened

Rumble—

On the battlefield in the Underworld, undead creatures converged like natural disasters. The light blazing in their eye sockets blended. From above, it looked like the phosphorescent river was stirring the ocean of mist, injecting the icy silence with a fierce killing intent.

Standing amid the banshees, Sukra was the shortest at two meters tall. She stood out like a lackey.

The thirty to forty banshees all wore tattered grey robes and stood at least two hundred and fifty centimeters tall. Among them, Sukra seemed like a sickly one suffering from malnutrition. And the malnutrition didn’t manifest only in her height, but also in her power.

All the other banshees had numerous summons with impressive appearances. Any of the massive skeletal beasts could summon tens of thousands of skeleton soldiers. The incredible army was a sight to behold, a sharp blade for the banshees to wield.

Sukra’s only summon was a skeleton soldier Wayne had disguised himself as—skinny, small, and holding a chipped double-edged sword. He looked just as malnourished as his master.

Although the soldier only looked malnourished and was more well-fed than anyone else present...

Come on, you look so weak!

Sukra groused to herself. Sensing the other banshees’ three parts sympathy, three parts derision, and four parts disbelief, she felt the urge to file a complaint. Wayne could’ve made himself stronger and more impressive, and he could’ve given her the average height of banshees. But he just had to make them both malnourished. Now, even the banshees had bigger busts and longer legs—bah, even the banshees looked down on her, she meant.

He obviously did that on purpose!

Sukra glared at Wayne. He thrust his chipped, rusty-looking sword into the ground, inspecting his horned helmet with white light dancing in his eye sockets. His stupid mug looked thoughtful and serious.

Whatever he was thinking about, the stupid skeleton laid his helmet on the ground and started hitting it with his sword, making it clink.

It seemed that he was dissatisfied with the two cow horns on the helmet.

Bastard, stop playing with your damn helmet, Sukra grumbled. You piss me off.

Wayne was a professional actor who fully devoted himself to every role, but Sukra wasn’t. She couldn’t love a script that required her to be a clown. She felt as if thorns were digging into her back, making her feel uncomfortable in every way.

That was a banshee problem. A summoned undead creature only had to devote itself fully to the battle and follow orders, finishing its mission as cannon fodder. The banshees, who commanded the summons, had much to worry about.

Such as height, three sizes, and the length of one’s staff.

The army of undead gathered like a flood. A three-meter-tall banshee descended from above, flapping her grey wings. Upon landing, she tucked her wings into her grey robe, looking at her fellow undead with a pair of dancing blue lights.

She was Omeros, the head of these banshees and the commander of the operation. She had rallied all her fellow banshees in the area.

“Friends, you’re all elites among banshees, each commanding a troop of thousands...”

Omeros scanned her fellow banshees and spotted the malnourished Sukra among them. After a moment of silence, she continued, “The Great Goddess of Death has fallen into slumber. Rebels act up all across the Divine Realm. Our master, the Executor and the Wings of Winter, could not tolerate the chaos. As he’s been waiting at the goddess’s side, he cannot personally quell the rebellion...”

Clink!

“This is the time for us to fight for our faith. Pick up your weapons...”

Clink!

“Everyone, the Underworld is facing an unprecedented crisis. While the Underworld is vast, we have the goddess behind us. We can’t afford to retreat!”

Clink, clang!

Omeros continued with the last pep talk before the battle began, but her patience ran thin by the end. She glared at Sukra and said, “Would you have your skeleton soldier stop? If he doesn’t like his helmet, he’s welcome to replace it.”

Sukra’s lips twitched. She said with difficulty, “Commander, he’s actually really strong. He just doesn’t look very smart.”

Clink!

“Like master, like summons. I didn’t believe that before, but I have to admit my mistake.” Omeros let out a long sigh. Picking up her staff, she tapped on Sukra. “I’ll assign a troop of summons to you. There’s an agile bone dragon among them. It’ll help you greatly. Watch yourself out there.”

Omeros was happy that Sukra came, but she wasn’t happy about Sukra’s pitiful power. Since her junior was so devoted, she decided to give Sukra a hand in case she met an untimely death on the battlefield.

The banshees were creatures of the Underworld. They were corpses reanimated by the corruption of the Underworld’s inherent Law. They didn’t breathe, and they had no heartbeat. They were entirely cold like ice.

Just like the banshees, most beings of the Underworld followed their creator, the Goddess of Death, and saw Her as the only truth of the world. They came alive because of Her and would willingly die for Her.

There was an astronomical number of undead beings in the Underworld, with a good variety of species. Aside from the few lucky ones, ninety-nine percent of the undead hadn’t even met their goddess.

Their souls craved to be close to the goddess, most ideally right beside Her. When they couldn’t follow the goddess personally, they readily followed the goddess’s avatars instead—namely, the three subordinate gods.

The Observer, Grau the Misfortune Spider, the Judge, Saigner the Soul-devouring Crow, and the Executor, Sizorn the Wings of Winter.

Omeros followed the Wings of Winter. The banshees were corpses, and Sizorn was a corpse dragon. As they were both in the zombie order of the undead class, they might as well be kindred spirits.

One’s superior wasn’t one’s faith. While Omeros followed Sizorn as a leader, her faith still belonged to the Goddess of Death. Learning that the goddess had fallen into slumber, and that Grau and Saigner, the two subordinate gods, had rebelled and stirred up chaos, Omeros decisively joined the army that Sizorn had created to restore order.

The Underworld henceforth divided into three factions, with all three subordinate gods pointing fingers at each other and each claiming to be the righteous faction of Death, swearing to kill every last one of the rebels.

Undead beings as loyal as Omeros were numerous. They fought for their faith and would not retreat even if their soulfire went out.

However, today’s operation was slightly different from the previous ones. She had come to take down some bandits.

A militia had formed to exploit the Underworld’s crisis for profit, claiming the mountain as its lord. They followed a new leader who wasn’t any of the three subordinate gods.

The new leader was named Rognes, a Death Knight from the human world. He had invaded the Great Prison of the Forgotten, gathering a group of fierce ruffians and stirring up trouble everywhere. He claimed that the three subordinate gods had rebelled and put the goddess in an involuntary slumber, that the goddess was a victim of the coalition between the three subordinate gods and Nature.

Gossip said that Rognes once claimed to be a child of the goddess, and that he was no less strong than the subordinate gods.

Omeros didn’t believe any of that. The three subordinate gods had been handpicked by the Goddess of Death. Their loyalty was unquestionable. Even if one of them had rebelled, they couldn’t all have rebelled.

It was such an absurd story that it had to be made up.

After the Great Prison of the Forgotten fell, Rognes had been raiding and looting with his band of criminals, committing too many crimes to list. The three subordinate gods labeled him as a bandit and had worked together many times to take him down.

All attempts failed.

Rognes was so powerful that anyone short of a subordinate god would be courting death by attacking him. Moreover, Rognes was cunning and resourceful. Every time he faced the collective assault of a much greater army, he divided his troops and avoided a direct confrontation, hitting and running instead.

To make things worse, Rognes was incredibly adept at brainwashing people. Any subordinates of the three subordinate gods, once they became his captives, would experience a complete personality change in two days, joining Rognes’s bandits in their campaign of killing and looting in the name of faith and loyalty. His faction snowballed and seemed to be on a trajectory to sweep across the Underworld.

Omeros had received reliable information that a group following Rognes had been expanding its influence in secret. They had to be eliminated as soon as possible, or, if left unchecked, the undead creatures in the neighborhood would be left with no room for survival.

That was information Sukra had collected. With the body Wayne had forged for her, she now shared kinship with the banshees born in the Underworld. Even Omeros, who was on the cusp of demigodhood, could not tell the difference. She saw Sukra as a fellow witch suffering from malnutrition.

Omeros was generous with her kin. She assigned an army to Sukra and reminded her to be careful on the battlefield. She didn’t have to eliminate the enemies and make a contribution; she just had to avoid getting in their way.

Sukra was willing to stay not just because she couldn’t say no to Wayne, but more importantly because the name of the leader of the local rebels caught her attention.

Clink!

“...” xN

The banshees glared at Sukra. Among them, Omeros’s face was the darkest. She was incensed.

I know you can’t summon an army because you’re malnourished. You only have a stupid skeleton soldier wearing a stupid horned helmet. Now that I’ve given you an army, though, why haven’t you unsummoned the soldier? Do you think all that clinking is amusing?

Sukra was speechless. She was going to explain, but Omeros had already waved at her, telling her to go to the back of the army.

Rumble!!

The great army marched and split into several wings. Under Omeros’s command, each banshee led their own troops and surrounded the ruffians in the valley from different directions.

No mercy. The goal was to rout them all.

Sukra rode a skeletal flying dragon in the air, trailing after the main army.

The flying dragon was five meters long. Putting aside its streamlined figure, it was all bones and agile in maneuvering, similar to Darienne’s flying dragon. Sukra looked down at Wayne from the sky. Seeing the stupid skeleton inspecting the helmet in his hands, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

To hell with the helmet. Wouldn’t you put it down already?!

She briefed him telepathically: “Wayne, I just found out about Rognes and the name of the leader of the local bandits. Her name is Ryza. She used to serve at the Temple of Eternity.”

“I know her. She was the Holy Maiden of Death before me. She’s also my master.”

“Oh?!” The horned helmet in Wayne’s hands suddenly lost its appeal—he had obsessed over it because it made him look like a minotaur, a symbol of cuckolding. He put the helmet back on and responded, “Sukra, is your master beautiful? Is she married? She’s not a slacker like you, is she?”

The questions were purely rhetorical. The Holy Maidens represented the goddess in the mortal realm, so the selection process was extremely robust, ensuring that all Holy Maidens across different churches were beautiful.

Anastasia was an excellent example. She was Wayne’s white moonlight, with a beautiful appearance and an even more beautiful soul. Her integrity far exceeded that of the Goddess of Darkness.

As for the married part...

Sukra didn’t even want to waste her breath on that. She continued, “There are a total of twelve ladies-in-waiting at the Temple of Eternity. They serve the goddess and consist of Holy Maidens who have entered the Divine Realm. Not all twelve spots have been filled. I’m guessing—”

“What? Your master’s master is also here? And the master of your master’s master?” Wayne was suddenly wide awake. He said in amazement, “I don’t know what’s happening, Sukra, but you look particularly stunning today!”

Bastard, this is the Underworld, not Londan. Don’t you let the depravity of high society corrupt this place.

Sukra condemned Wayne and said angrily, “If you keep interrupting me, I’ll stop talking.”

“Go on. Once your mouth is free, I’ll interrupt you physically.”

“...”

Sukra had no words. Backing down only made her angrier, but she had no choice but to tolerate Wayne’s antics.

“I’m guessing that after the goddess fell into slumber, the ladies in waiting were thrown into the Great Prison of the Forgotten. They were the goddess’s most loyal disciples and would never betray the goddess. After Rognes rescued them...”

Sukra shared her analysis. She added in the end, “Ryza is my master and Rognes’s companion, making her one of our own. Behave yourself. Don’t tease her.”

Sukra wasn’t worried about Wayne hurting Ryza. While Wayne was inhuman, he wasn’t a monster. His inhuman side, though, would definitely enrage Ryza.

“I understand. No means yes, so you must be looking to get back at your master because of how she’s treated you in the past.” Wayne knocked on his ribcage, expressing his willingness to exact revenge for Sukra.

Bastard, you know what I’m getting at!

“Since we’re facing your master, one of our own, we don’t have to keep acting. I’ll take care of these undead and find Rognes through your master.” Wayne raised an eyebrow. Once he found Rognes, the two of them would lure their enemies into a trap, one acting openly and the other remaining in the dark. Then the three subordinate gods would be theirs to take down.

If nothing went wrong, they would be able to speedrun this stage and meet the Goddess of Death by tomorrow.

Wayne could seek out the three subordinate gods on his own, but he was a newcomer and a law-abiding visitor. He didn’t know exactly how powerful the three subordinate gods were in the Underworld. It felt risky not to have a teammate to keep in front of him.

Things would be different with Rognes around. The former Death Knight was a paragon of virtue whose character was radiant enough to blind Wayne. He didn’t even have to fall back; Rognes would take point and tank the hits.

“Wayne! Wayne...”

Sukra messaged him to break him out of his reverie, then she made her request. “Omeros is a good undead, so are these banshees. All of them are the goddess’s devoted disciples and have only made mistakes because of Sizorn’s deception. Would you go easy on them, if possible?”

She lifted the hem of her grey robe.

(는_는)

Sis, you’re a corpse right now. A normal guy won’t go for that.

Also, who and what gave you the misconception that I’ll listen to you just because you flash your legs at me?

Is it Darienne? How terrible!