Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

"This is the golden apple?"

"Yes, this is the golden apple."

They did not linger long in the Heavenly Empress's garden. With the fruit they had obtained, Heracles used a bronze staff to quell the tsunamis and storms around the Holy Island. Along with his two companions, he set up a large cauldron at the edge of the island.

Various herbs they had collected along the way were piled beside them, and the freshly picked golden apple took the prime spot.

Just looking at these so-called 'golden apples,' Prometheus felt a little disappointed.

"Well, maybe it is also a golden apple."

"But compared to the real golden apple, this is just a fruit that is very useful to mortals."

In ancient times, before the creation of Silver Humanity, the Forethinker had once followed his father to the dwelling place of Mother Earth, back when it still belonged to her—as the Delphic Great Plains.

There, he had seen the true Golden Apple Tree, and those fruits that could make even deities envious.

Compared to those, these so-called golden apples were merely superficial. Their only use to the gods might be to speed up the regeneration of their divine bodies after destruction.

Other than that, they just tasted decent... of course, from a divine perspective.

To humans, these golden apples might not be that different from the original ones after all. Because their greatest power was to grant mortals near-eternal life.

Near, but not absolute, because the power of the golden apple would eventually be exhausted. But that day could be calculated in thousands of years.

With a slight shake of his head, Prometheus no longer looked at the counterfeit.

He simply took out the Purgatory Book and found the page with the potion recipe.

"Let us begin, brew your potion."

"This is not difficult, it is not a traditional kind of magic potion, but a concoction with unique symbolism... It can place your existence between 'life' and 'death', avoiding the recognition of certain rules."

"Okay."

Heracles nodded slowly and took the Purgatory Book.

Just watching this scene, Dionysus suddenly realized.

A potion, a recognition of rules, what was it for?

Weren't they a team assisting Heracles in completing the Twelve Labors? Could it be that after defeating the dragon Ladon, the God of the West Wind had already been here?

"Ahem, what is this for?"

Uncertain, Dionysus pointed at the large cauldron in front of him.

"Naturally, it is to brew a potion named 'Living Hell Potion.'"

As he explained, the great hero also wanted to see what choice his companion would make.

"You have heard its effects, it can reverse the state between life and death, making the drinker neither alive nor dead, avoiding certain rules."

"Certain rules?"

Still confused, Dionysus continued to ask.

"For example?"

"For example, the power of the waters of the Styx."

Heracles answered calmly.

"The Styx?"

At these words, Dionysus was momentarily stunned, then suddenly understood.

"So you already know."

The power of the waters of the Styx—when the great hero mentioned this term, his first thought was of the River of Vows, the Styx, followed by the Acheron River, which blocked the entrance to the Underworld.

According to the arrangements of Zephyrus and the Divine King, their next step indeed required them to go to the Underworld.

The attitude of the Sky-holder was already clear. Next was Hades.

Although the Underworld had always been considered a backwater by the gods, that did not mean Zeus did not value their existence.

On the contrary, the Underworld gathered too many secrets. If he had not already personally traveled through the Abyss, perhaps Tartarus would have been a stop on Heracles' journey.

Dionysus did not fully understand this, but he knew part of it.

"So this potion is actually prepared for the journey to the Underworld? There's no real need for that."

"Charon, the ferryman of the underworld, would never dare stop you from crossing the river. He might play some small tricks with you... but it's good to be prepared, since it's the Underworld after all."

Nodding, Dionysus indicated his understanding.

And beside him, Heracles fell silent at his words, eventually shaking his head with a mysterious expression.

So it was like that? The subsequent trials arranged by the gods were also in the Underworld? What a coincidental guidance of fate.

He looked up at the bronze staff fixing the sea around the island. The great hero felt increasingly the power of this unseen force.

Atlas had said, holding up the sky did not depend on strength alone, it was more about having the qualifications.

The entire mortal realm might not be able to find a second person with such qualifications, yet he just happened to have them.

Yet in this world, there was no love without reason, nor hate without reason.

He was so different, what was the price for it?

Typhon was born great.

"This is the golden apple?"

"Yes, this is the golden apple."

They did not linger long in the Heavenly Empress's garden. With the fruit they had obtained, Heracles used a bronze staff to quell the tsunamis and storms around the Holy Island. Along with his two companions, he set up a large cauldron at the edge of the island.

Various herbs they had collected along the way were piled beside them, and the freshly picked golden apple took the prime spot.

Just looking at these so-called 'golden apples,' Prometheus felt a little disappointed.

"Well, maybe it is also a golden apple."

"But compared to the real golden apple, this is just a fruit that is very useful to mortals."

In ancient times, before the creation of Silver Humanity, the Forethinker had once followed his father to the dwelling place of Mother Earth, back when it still belonged to her—as the Delphic Great Plains.