Danmachi Familia from Hell

10

After finishing their discussions, Hades and Belakher had dinner and returned to their chambers to begin packing. A few hours later, they received an invitation to dine with Ares, Matiás, and the rest of the royal family, which they accepted. However, it was merely a courteous gesture from their hosts, filled with trivial conversation. Ares refrained from urging his relative to join him in another drinking session. Firstly, he had no desire to drink with his uncle after their last conversation, and secondly, he was still recovering from his previous hangover.
After dessert, the god of death and the elf left their hosts to take a hot bath knowing that during their journey, they would only have rivers to wash in at best. They went to bed early to rest before their departure from the capital, planned for just before sunrise.
In the morning, the monarch, along with his family and god, officially bid them farewell in the courtyard. Damien accompanied them, along with a contingent of guards, all the way to the city gates. Once beyond the walls, they spurred their undead mounts into a gallop.
The advantage of these steeds was that they required neither rest nor food. They didn't need to slow down to catch their breath and remained unfazed by anything they encountered. Even if they stepped on something sharp, they would continue running, even with a hoof pierced through. As such, stops were limited to twice a day, once at midday for lunch and again in the evening to set up camp and eat dinner. They would wake early, have breakfast, break camp, and continue their journey. A travel that typically took Rakia's heavy armies three months was completed by the golden-eyed and long-eared duo in just three weeks.
Crossing into the province, they expected no significant change in the landscape. According to Thomas Loden, an agent sent to this land by Rakia's authorities some time ago, these were supposed to be peaceful, green lands, not a realm out of a horror story.
They were not mistaken. The trees were tall, healthy, and full of leaves hanging from sturdy branches. Grass grew everywhere except on the carefully carved path, which wasn't paved with stones but merely compacted dirt, a sign of the lack of true administration for centuries.
Only one thing hinted that they had entered a land rumored to belong to an ancient demon: they hadn't seen even the slightest trace of a monster in a long time. Maybe the days when various beasts roamed the world and attacked defenseless travelers daily had ended over a century ago, many creatures still lurked in forests, swamps, mountain caves, deserts, or the Dragon Valley. During their three-week journey, Landgrave and his lord had to deal with small groups of goblins four times when they strayed too far or too long from the main road. Here, no matter how hard they searched, they couldn't spot even a lowly Kobold. Instead, they encountered predatory animals like foxes, wolves, martens, and even a bear. Thousands of years ago, such an abundance of fauna wouldn't have surprised anyone. But when monsters began plundering the surface, numerous animal species lost their populations, whether directly due to infernal creatures or indirectly due to the loss of food caused by these plagues.
Their destination was the village of Hamme, mentioned in Loden's letter and the last point of contact that Rakia's spy network had managed to identify.
Fortune smiled upon the King of the Underworld and his servant. At a crossroads, they came across a signpost indicating that by heading right, they would reach a settlement named Wipeil in thirteen kilometers, and by going left, they would reach their destination after sixteen.
The sun was already setting, and it would have been pleasant to spend the night under the roof of an inn before beginning their investigation, but this was not an option.
Hades ordered his follower to ride about two kilometers further, cast Void, and absorb their mounts. The horses could wear black cloths, neigh, and paw at the ground if Belakher commanded them. They could even dip their skeletal muzzles into troughs of water and feed, pretending to eat and drink like normal animals. However, it was unlikely that a stablehand wouldn't eventually peek under the fabric and discover what kind of steeds they were dealing with. The news would spread rapidly, possibly reaching the ears of the self-proclaimed lord of these lands, a level of attention they couldn't afford.
Thus, they camped among bushes
deeper in the forest. In the morning, they would cover the remaining distance on foot, roll around in the dirt, and ruffle their hair to lend credibility to the story that their horses had thrown them at the sight of a bear crossing the road and then bolted in fear. They would arrive in Hamme genuinely tired and sweaty, present themselves as a pair of travelers, and request shelter from the local villagers, who, according to their employers, had grown accustomed to various people passing through their territory in recent years.
As evening fell, Belakher was finishing lighting a campfire over which Hades hung a pan with dried meat. While the temperature wouldn't imbue the leathery chunks with savory fat, it was still better to eat a warm meal. They often wandered through forests hunting rabbits, but in enemy territory, they had no intention of prowling unfamiliar thickets in the dark. They still had some wine left in their flask. They drank it sparingly to maintain their alertness, often taking just a few sips a day or none at all, so they had just enough to moisten their throats with something other than water before replenishing their supplies.
The King of the Underworld wasn't
averse to physical labor and shared the duties evenly with the elf. Today, it was his turn to set up the tents and watch over the meal, while the violet-eyed gathered wood and lit the fire. After finishing their tasks, they sat opposite each other by the campfire, enjoying the warmth of the flames that shielded them from the growing chill of the impending cold night.
As Hades stared into the glowing branches, he thought of Hestia. She might have been clumsy, lazy, and a bit foolish, but fire suited her perfectly as a symbol. In all of the Upper World, few goddesses could display nearly infinite, selfless kindness like Little Flame. Occasionally visiting his palace beneath Olympus brought him great joy. She knew that, as the god of death, he was overwhelmed with work, rewarding and punishing mortal souls, and couldn't often leave his domain. Her visits were never for anything important. She mostly told him stories about how Aphrodite mocked her and Artemis again, calling their chastity mere ignorance of love; about Poseidon's latest tantrum, nearly drowning an entire island civilization in the Lower World; or, with a shiver, about what Hera did to Zeus and Hermes for spying on other goddesses while they bathed. Both had to admit that their youngest sister never lacked creativity when it came to torturing her husband and stepson!
Ultimately, the stories she brought him didn't matter. What mattered was her presence. Simply being with someone he loved filled Hades with immense joy. It was the same when he traveled to Olympus himself-whether to calm Poseidon after a fit of rage, console Demeter after a blight ravaged farmers' fields, mediate marital conflicts between the thunderer and the queen of heaven, or more rarely, to feast with them at a shared table. All these moments filled him with warmth and...