King of Underworld

Chapter 108: The God of Justice, Hades – (1)

When Persephone and I returned to the Underworld, I saw a number of gods rubbing their tired eyes as they pored over piles of parchment.

Their expressions were unmistakably those of frustration, likely thinking, “Why does he get to relax while we’re stuck here working?”

“Hades… You’ve been spending more time outside the Underworld recently…”

“The paperwork has piled up.”

The goddess Styx handed me a massive stack of documents.

Yes, yes, I know. I’ve got work to do.

“If you had returned any later, Thanatos would have escaped again.”

“Again?”

“I nearly gave in to the temptation to abandon myself.”

Hypnos averted his gaze as he spoke, shaking his head.

I sat down and began working through the documents with practiced efficiency, swiftly signing off on parchment after parchment with my quill.

The gods must be suffering because of me, constantly running around.

As I worked, I noticed a document sealed with the official crest of Olympus.

I hadn’t discussed any official business during Eros’ wedding since I was there as a guest.

As I examined the document, Goddess Lethe provided an explanation.

“…That’s a formal request from the Goddess of Justice, Dike, expressing her desire to transfer her post to the Underworld.”

“She wasn’t at Eros’ wedding…”

“Why would the Goddess of Justice want to leave Olympus and come down here?”

“Not just for a temporary assignment, but to permanently stay?”

“Hmm… could it be?”

The gods murmured among themselves and cast glances in my direction.

“Could she be your fifth… wife?”

“No.”

Dike.

The Goddess of Justice, born of Zeus and Themis. She’s one of the Horae, goddesses who preside over order, alongside her sisters, Eunomia (goddess of law) and Eirene (goddess of peace).

Just as I am known as Pluto, she is also called Astraea or Iustitia.

“She must have been too busy to attend Eros’ wedding.”

“So, what do we do? It’s always good to have another god in the Underworld, but…”

“Yes, but it’s unclear why she wants to transfer here. Perhaps she had a dispute with another god…”

Dike is an extremely busy goddess.

Justice is a foundational concept tied to almost everything—it’s one of the pillars of civilization and order.

Even now, she’s likely traveling across the mortal world, judging the wicked and upholding justice.

“Summon her to the Underworld. I’ll speak with her and decide from there.”

“Yes, I’ll send a message to Olympus.”

But why would Dike choose to burden herself with the hardest job in the cosmos? The Underworld is, after all, the least desirable place for gods to work.

Could it be that she thinks it’s unjust for her to stand by and watch us toil here…?

No, that can’t be it.

* * *

I found myself staring at Dike as she knelt before me in the audience hall.

Her golden hair was a testament to her lineage as Zeus’ daughter, and she inherited formidable divine power from her mother, Themis, Zeus’ wife and the Titan goddess of divine law.

Her beauty was undeniable, but her tone was strong and unwavering, befitting a goddess of her rank.

She ranked just below the Twelve Olympian gods, a high-ranking deity…

“…You may put down your sword and scales for now. Or just float them in the air.”

“I cannot do that, Uncle! If I ever separate myself from these tools, justice itself might falter…”

Even as she knelt, she was gripping her scales and sword.

“You look uncomfortable holding them. And why are your eyes covered?”

“I’ll explain that in a moment, as it relates to the reason I wish to stay in the Underworld.”

The Goddess of Justice’s eyes possessed the power to see through injustice.

They allowed her to track down and judge wrongdoing, ensuring that justice prevailed. But why had she covered them?

Dike began her story.

“As the Goddess of Justice, I have traveled across the world, judging and punishing injustice. Mortals are capable of such terrible deeds. There was Sisyphus, who defied death, and Tantalus, whose actions still disgust me. I’ve even encountered mortals who falsely claimed to be my father, Zeus.”

“There was such a man. His name was Salmoneus, the brother of Sisyphus.”

Salmoneus.

The brother of Sisyphus, who had defied death, Salmoneus built his own kingdom in Elis and declared himself king.

He had an impressive ability to gather people and grow his influence, eventually becoming king. But then…

“Ha ha ha! I am the god Zeus!”

“Sire…? What are you saying…?”

Once he became king, he was so drunk on power that he declared himself Zeus and began to engage in all sorts of madness.

Let’s review some of his atrocities.

“Anything Zeus can do, I can do too! Behold! Ha ha ha!”

“S-sire!”

“Behold! This is the sound of Zeus’ thunder!”

He built a bridge of steel and rode across it in a brass chariot, mimicking the sound of thunder.

And at the same time…

“This is lightning! Ha ha ha!”

Whoosh!

“Argh!”

“The king has gone mad!”

“How dare you call me mad? Execute them all!”

He hurled torches at his subjects, claiming they were Zeus’ lightning bolts.

Naturally, this madman’s actions reached Olympus.

To teach him what true lightning was, Zeus dropped the weakest, lightest thunderbolt on him.

And so, Salmoneus’ entire kingdom was vaporized… and many mortals found themselves in the Underworld.

“Salmoneus is now forever condemned to drive his chariot in Tartarus.”

“I’ve heard about his punishment. But…”

Dike clenched her lips tightly before speaking to me again.

“The mortals who died alongside Salmoneus didn’t deserve to be struck down by a thunderbolt. Even though he is my father, I believe Zeus went too far! My scales tipped sharply under the weight of that punishment. There must be consequences for blasphemy, yes, but killing those who simply served him as king… That was too much. And that’s not the only case! The time when Apollo killed Orion…”

To account for this, I’ve given some leniency to the mortals who were collateral victims of Zeus’ actions in the Underworld.

It would have been unjust to harshly punish those caught up in Salmoneus’ madness.

Dike continued to list a series of crimes and wrongdoings committed by the gods, her divine power radiating faintly as she spoke, clearly struggling with the weight of her frustrations.

It must be suffocating for the Goddess of Justice to witness such wrongs and feel unable to act.

I think I understand now why she wants to come here.

“…There have been dozens of cases like this, and also—”

“I get the gist, Dike.”

“But I still have more to say—”

“You want to stay in the Underworld because you seek my protection, don’t you?”

* * *

The Goddess of Justice, Dike, was not one of the Twelve Olympians.

In this world, justice didn’t hold much power.

Though she was strong as Zeus’ daughter and a child of the Titaness Themis, that alone wasn’t enough.

Whenever she tried to punish other gods for their injustices, she had to navigate their political backgrounds.

“Lord Poseidon?!”

“Dike. My son may have played a little with the mortals, but…”

“What’s the problem with a god punishing a few humans? You’re a god too, yet you sound like my Uncle Hades…”

“Lady Artemis…”

“Hold on, that’s my sacred beast. So what if it ate a few mortals…”

“Lord Dionysus…”

Dike’s eyes possessed the power to see through all injustice.

But she had chosen to cover them with a blindfold.

If she couldn’t act on the injustices she witnessed, what good were those eyes?

Her sword could judge all wrongdoings, but…

She hesitated to wield it, fearing the consequences.

If her hand wavered in the pursuit of justice, what was the point of her sword?

Dike was undoubtedly a goddess of justice, but…

Other gods who outranked her, those who represented other pillars of order, often overruled justice.

Her passionate words trailed off, and she lifted her head to meet my gaze. In her eyes, I saw a mixture of pleading and longing.

“Yes. You’re right. Uncle… Hades, you are called the God of Mercy, are you not?”

“……”

“Among all the gods of Olympus, there are few whose scales tip as heavily toward the side of virtue as yours.”

I looked at the scales Dike held. They were sharply tilted to one side.

One side weighed down by good, the other by evil.

This scale measured the weight of right and wrong.

Even Zeus himself could not escape the judgment of this divine tool.

“At some point, I began to feel that my place was not on Olympus, but here in the Underworld. I couldn’t bear to watch the injustices of Olympus any longer.”

“……”

“Just as the Goddess of Victory, Nike, accompanies Lady Athena, gods who oversee higher concepts often have gods who preside over related, subordinate concepts by their side.”

“I’m aware of that. So, what are you suggesting?”

“Though mortals call you the God of Mercy, to me, you are the fairest and most just of all the gods.”

It was just

like how the God of War, Ares, had Deimos (Terror) and Phobos (Fear) under his domain…

And how Athena, the Goddess of War and Wisdom, had Nike, the Goddess of Victory, by her side…

“I, Dike, the Goddess of Justice, humbly request to serve under you, Lord Hades, the God of Fairness.”

Her divine voice echoed through the audience chamber.

Though it wasn’t as binding as an oath made on the River Styx, it was still a declaration—a commitment tied to her divinity.

What Dike was asking now…

Was essentially to acknowledge me as the God of Fairness and for me to accept Justice as a subordinate aspect of my divine role.

Not only as the god of the Underworld, wealth, and mercy—but now also as the god of fairness?