Me, Hydra

As everyone was confused, Hydra's voice rose out of nowhere.

"He is one of our brave and fearless, and even if he dies, he deserves to be buried under the highest regulations. From now on, they are part of the Hall of English Spirit [Maenquil]."

Upon hearing that, there was a slight relaxation in the eyes of all the people. At least compared to that strange underworld, the people of Sparta were more willing to trust Hydra.

On the other hand, Hydra watched quietly as those souls entered the mouth of the Head of Space through those portals.

The great name of the Hall of Valor was undoubtedly the first thing that came to mind was the legend that Odin had set up to meet the twilight of the gods, the temple dedicated to searching the souls of valiant warriors who had stood and died.

Every warrior in Northern Europe was proud to enter the Hall of Valor after death, and this is what made Hydra feel something a little different. This kind of thing, with a little work, could be a good tool to strengthen the cohesion of city-states.

Since the Peloponnese was Hydra's territory, the belief of Hades was not established here. In order to house the souls of the dead, Hydra then had the sudden idea to set up the Spartan underworld in Seven's mouth.

As mentioned before, Seven's mouth is a huge space....

So, in addition to helping Hydra store things, Seven has the added responsibility of managing the "Underworld" in his own mouth. As for Hydra's version of the Hall of Spirits, it is actually a vesicle in Seven's mouth. Although it was a vesicle, the space inside was not small. It's the perfect thing to store the battle spirits.

Of course, you might ask, why not let those dead warriors reanimate?

The reason was simple, the base of people who died in battle was too large, and resurrecting so many people in one breath was afraid that it wouldn't attract the attention of those super primordial deities who didn't know where they were hiding . Moreover, once an immortal creature died it was a real death, even the soul would perish with immortality....

Shaking his head and looking over at Seven beside him, Hydra let out a sigh of relief.

Although Seven would often mutter a few words in displeasure, he was actually quite addicted to something as fun as managing the Underworld, as if he were playing a city simulation game.

"The annual festival will be taking place soon, have you prepared all the family allowances for the families of the fallen soldiers?"

Nodding his head, Raze, who was holding a ledger, quickly said: "According to my inspection, those family allowances have already been distributed, and they have been completed under my nose without any mistakes. In addition to the inherent money, we also added some food, rice, oil, salt, quilts, jackets and other daily necessities. Hopefully this will mend the pain in their hearts..."

Narrowing her eyes, Hydra nodded in satisfaction.

No matter what, this Raze would always be able to make everything look good, which Hydra was very satisfied with. And Raze's loyalty to himself could simply be described as that of a rabid believer.

What was a rabid believer?

A rabid believer is someone who will choose to silently spread your ideas, complete your plans, and resurrect your life after your violent death.

And the Raze in front of him was, without a doubt, a Wild Believer.

"You should rest for the next few days as well, it's the annual festival soon, you're a few hundred years old but you don't have an heir yet. Find yourself a marriage sometime, I don't want you, the one who raised Sparta, to end up facing old age and childlessness instead~"

As she said that, Hydra's voice also had more than a little ridicule in it.

And after hearing Hydra's words, Raze was also embarrassed to touch his bald head.

But then again, with Raze's current complexion and appearance....

I guess I still have to play bachelor for the rest of my life.

........

Sleep....

Volume 1: Text-121 - Gunpowder!

When a valiant warrior died in battle for Sparta, then his soul would become a member of the Hall of English Spirit [Mein Kuehl].

Somehow this news quickly spread throughout Sparta.

While people were still putting their faith in the rumors, Ruiz stepped forward to confirm the rumors.

"When a valiant warrior dies, his soul does not dissipate between heaven and earth, but is favored by Lord Hydra and becomes a member of the Hall of Englishes [Maenquil]. The river flows with wine and honey, where there is no life, old age or death. It was a resting place for souls. The jungle was filled with all kinds of flowers, birds and fish, the most perfect place in the world. The gladiatorial arena where no one can die even if his head is cut off, is the most perfect place to hone martial arts skills. And there, only warriors who have died for Sparta can enter after death."

Raze's words soon spread throughout the entire Spartan city-state, and from there, the youth of Sparta became even more resolute. It was a joyful thing to live and die with a goal strong enough to fight for.

On the other hand, even though it was the annual festival, Hephaestus, who was holed up in the smithy, was still working hard on his forging there.

Hephaestus hadn't been out for a long time, and the last time he had gone out was because Cuchulain invited him to go fishing by the river.

And now it seemed that Cuchulain was going to be busy helping those inhabitants from Celtic pack up their supplies for the winter, so Hephaestus, who was now idle, began to concentrate on the casting of the bronze cannon.

Carefully scribing something, suddenly, Cuchulain, who hadn't been here for quite some time, walked into the smithy and greeted him in passing.

"Yo~ Stos you're still busy~ The snow in front of your house is three feet deep~"

The unexpected greeting caused Hephaestus' hand to shake violently, and because of that, Hephaestus appeared to be helpless.

Hephaestus wasn't just portraying something random, but rather, he was portraying the rifling. It was said that the projectiles fired from a barrel with the rifling carved out would be more powerful and have a longer range. So Hephaestus was going to try to see if he could carve out the rifling first.

But unfortunately, although carving the rifling was something very simple for Hephaestus, somehow, only when Hephaestus was carving the rifling, some special event would always happen to interrupt it.

But what was heartening to Hephaestus was that without a single failure, the rifling was able to advance a bit the next time it was redrawn. It's as if this uncertainty has an upper limit to its consumption.

Hephaestus didn't feel too sad as he easily tossed the failures aside, after all, scribing rifts was a pastime for Hephaestus when he was bored, just like Cuchulain liked to fish when he was bored~!

"Are you done with your business? First things first, I'm not going to follow you out fishing in this cold weather~"

Upon hearing that, Cuchulain waved his hand with a casual look.

"This cold day with should all be hiding in the riverbed under the water, there's nothing to catch by going there~ But then again, is it really a good idea for you guy to stay in a small place like the smithy all the time? It's the annual festival soon, aren't you going to go out and do something?"

At the news, Hephaestus waved a hand.

"Forget it, I don't know anyone in Sparta besides those old farmers. They're all staying at home enjoying their family life now~ It's really enviable~ But I've heard that it seems that old Kerr's eldest son next door died on the battlefield, I hope too not too sad..."

Hearing Hephaestus' words, Cuchulain, who was on the other side, also shrugged his shoulders.

"I hope so, then again, if you have nothing to do, why don't you go outside and stay here and mull over the iron if you can make something out of it~ And what's the point of ironing? It's not as fun as jerking off yet~~"

"You don't understand, jerking off isn't as much fun for me as jerking off with an iron~"

"So what, it's hard to beat the iron and still get sexual pleasure from it?"

As he said that, Cuchulain shrugged his shoulders with a ridiculously funny face. Shrugging didn't matter, but what was surprising was that Cuchulain accidentally knocked over the jar next to him in the process of shrugging his shoulders.

It fell to the ground and the contents of the jar instantly scattered.

A strong sense of crisis instantly rose from Hephaestus' heart.

Without hesitation, Hephaestus opened the divine barrier and pulled Cuchulain's hand to leap outside.

"Boom---"

A small, delicate mushroom cloud rose from the smithy behind Hephaestus.

But the current Hephaestus didn't have any anger, instead his face was filled with unprecedented excitement.

"Actually, it actually worked!"