Ch. 118: I Really Did Not Know This Existed, Serpentine Tribe!
The path ahead grew darker as we ventured deeper into the forest. Each step felt more ominous, the ground shifting beneath me as if the earth itself recoiled at our passage. The towering trees, ancient and twisted, whispered in voices I couldn’t comprehend. Glowing moss illuminated the way, casting an eerie green light, while oversized mushrooms lined the rocky path, their caps shimmering like ghostly beacons in the night. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of decay and dampness.
I followed the cloaked figure ahead, his movements almost imperceptible, blending seamlessly with the darkness. His presence, once menacing, had softened the deeper we traveled. I could no longer feel the sharp edge of danger that had once clung to him.
“You must forgive the treatment you received from my people,” he said, breaking the silence. His voice was steady but laced with something more— pride, perhaps. “But you did intrude upon their sacred ritual.”
I exhaled sharply, the memory of that confrontation flashing in my mind. “Sacred rituals? For a people who don’t believe in the gods, it makes me wonder— who exactly were you offering those rituals to?”
He hesitated for a moment, the flicker of defiance returning to his tone. “Must one offer supplications to gods? Yes, you gods were the apex of power in your time— unstoppable, unquestionable. But change is constant, Lord Hades. Power shifts. And we… we look to something different.”
His words struck me. There was truth in what he said, but it was a truth I wasn’t sure I was ready to acknowledge. “If not to gods, then what was your ritual for?” I asked, already feeling an unsettling curiosity gnawing at me.
“Closure.” The word hung in the air between us, heavy and final. “We offer sacrifices not for power or favor but to ease the passage of the dead. To honor their memories and ensure their souls find peace, even in the darkness of the Underworld.”
I frowned, a cold sensation creeping up my spine. Souls? Did they truly believe their ancestors still roamed, even here? Or was there a deeper meaning to their rituals— something untold? “I must apologize for intruding, then. In a way, you could say I was summoned by the disturbance.”
The cloaked figure let out a deep, throaty chuckle. “The Lord Hades, so formal— almost amusing. I am Arman, fourth ruler of the Serpentine Tribe. You might not remember us.”
His tone was a mixture of reverence and challenge, and I wasn’t about to pretend I recalled them. “I don’t,” I said plainly. “Serpentine… you mean—”
Arman removed his hood, revealing a face covered in glistening green scales, his eyes narrow slits of pale yellow. His serpent-like features were unmistakable, but it was the weight of history in his gaze that unnerved me more.
“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice quieter now, almost introspective. “Snake people. Once, we were many— warriors, sages, survivors. We could not endure the wrath of the gods in the wars above, so we fled to the Underworld. In those times, the lost and the broken were referred to as ‘the dead,’ and so we were counted among them. But under your rule, we found something we had lost: order, stability. My ancestors chose the swamps, far from the reach of your dominion. We’ve flourished in isolation, far from prying eyes. And forgive me, but I doubt you came here just for sightseeing.”
I regarded him carefully. His words carried weight, but his body language was guarded. He was testing me. “Coincidentally, I am on a sightseeing tour,” I replied with a faint smirk, my tone betraying none of my true intentions.
As we emerged from the thick of the trees, a village sprawled out before us— primitive, yet somehow majestic in its simplicity. The air hung heavy with an oppressive energy, difficult to breathe. The dwellings resembled medieval fortresses, built from stone and thatch. The Serpentine people moved through the settlement, their scaled bodies gliding like shadows, each engaged in mundane tasks but with an underlying sense of purpose. Children chased each other, their laughter sharp and alien. Warriors stood guard, their eyes cold and unblinking.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Arman asked, stopping to take in the sight. “This is what we protect. Every day.”
There was a certain pride in his voice, but I could sense the layers beneath. He wasn’t just proud of the village; he was warning me. I nodded slowly, my eyes taking in every detail. “I’m not here to cause trouble. What you’ve built is… unique. But I wonder, why hide it from the rest of the Underworld?”
“Our isolation is our strength,” Arman replied, his voice thick with conviction. “It has kept us safe. The fewer known of us, the better. You see, Lord Hades, we have no need for alliances or favors. But I cannot help but feel your presence here is… fate. Perhaps we should talk further.”
We continued to walk, my mind swirling with questions. The village pulsed with life, but there was something darker beneath the surface. The weight of his words lingered. Fate. Did I believe in something so made up? Or was this some cosmic joke?
Arman led me to the outskirts of the village, where the ground became softer, almost swamp-like. He stopped suddenly and turned to face me, his pale eyes gleaming. “When you look at the village, what do you see? Not as a ruler. Not as a god. What do you truly see with your own eyes?”
It was a loaded question. He was not just asking for an opinion. He was probing, trying to understand me. I glanced back at the settlement, trying to peel away the layers of what I thought I knew. “I see… people,” I said after a long pause. “I see lives. Small, yes, but connected. Happy, in a way. It’s a peaceful place, a home for those who’ve carved out their own existence. It’s… beautiful.”
Arman’s face shifted, the ghost of a smile curling his lips. “It is. But beauty is fleeting, Hades. I spoke the truth about your rule and the neglect of the gods. You parade your power, yet I’ve seen how you’ve withdrawn— even from those you claim to care for. And it infuriates me.”
I narrowed my eyes, his sudden hostility catching me off guard. “If you have something to say, say it.”
“You gods are scum,” he spat, his voice low and venomous. “You neglect your domains, leave them in disarray. You have the audacity to call yourselves rulers, but you’ve abandoned your duty. You’re no better than the rest of the gods.”
I held his gaze, my chest tightening with suppressed anger. But I remained silent. Arman was testing me, provoking me, trying to see if I would rise to the bait.
Finally, I spoke. “The village is beautiful because it’s theirs. They’ve built something worth protecting, something worth fighting for. And that’s more than can be said for many places.”
Arman’s eyes softened, and he let out a long breath. “Perhaps. But the gods have not yet learned the cost of their arrogance. One of yours, Hades, has conspired with one of mine to exploit something… dangerous.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What are you talking about?”
“Black Amber,” he whispered, his eyes flashing with something close to fear.
I froze, the weight of his words sinking in. Black Amber— one of the most dangerous substances in the Underworld. It had the power to corrupt, to destroy, just like it did Hades and Hermes. And if someone was using it… maybe the source–? “How do you know this?”
Arman studied me for a moment before speaking again. “One of ours, a traitor, learned how to synthesize it. Months ago, he escaped our prison. The last we heard, he was working with one of your kind to sell Black Amber in the black market. I had planned to deal with him myself, but with you here… perhaps fate has other plans.”
I clenched my fists, my mind racing. “Where is he?”
“You seem quite interested in Black Amber, Hades,” Arman said, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “Why is that?”
I couldn’t hide the anger in my voice. “Because it’s dangerous. And if it’s in the wrong hands, it could destroy everything.”
Arman’s eyes bore into mine, searching for something. “The Serpentine are mine to protect. If we are to hunt this traitor, we will do it together.”
I hesitated, unsure of his true intentions. But there was no other choice. If Black Amber was involved, I couldn’t afford to ignore it. “Fine,” I said. “Where do we start?”
“The black market,” Arman replied. “Meet me here tomorrow. We’ll finalize the plan then.”
I watched him as he turned to leave, his movements swift and silent. As I stood there, alone in the oppressive darkness, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far more dangerous.
And for the first time, I felt the cold hand of fate tightening around me. How did I know…? Because it was the same feeling I got when the fates appeared back then and killed Hephestus. Bone chilling.
If I revive a magic castle I will mass release 10 chapters
