#1023 The Origin’s Promise

Long, long ago, back when humans were just getting started as a species...

“Back in those days, naught was yet writ in stone. The question of who should claim dominion over the Earth—mortals or gods—remained unanswered. How much should men possess, and how much ought they offer unto the gods?”

So naturally, someone suggested, “Maybe we should figure this out.”

The supreme god of the human race, Zeus, declared:

“Hand over every single thing, no exceptions, to the gods!”

“What a jerk.”

“Total jerk.”

And so, with a bit of casual chit-chat sprinkled in, the story carries on.

Zeus, being as greedy as he was, wanted to hog everything, leaving nothing for the humans. It looked like humans were about to get royally screwed.

But then, a god stepped in.

Prometheus, one of the Titan gods.

“Prometheus, forsooth, was a strange one. Though he was a Titan, he took no part in the great war between the Titans and the Olympians, known as the Titanomachy. He held his peace and stood aside until the very end.”

Because of that, when the Titans lost, he wasn’t thrown into Tartarus like the rest of them.

But anyway, back to the offerings for the gods.

Prometheus, being the clever god he was, got to work. He butchered a cow and split it into two parts.

One part would be for humans, and the other for the gods.

Zeus, of course, picked the chunk that looked like a fatty, juicy slab of meat.

The other part was just a pile of inedible skin, so Zeus figured the mortals can have it.

But that’s where Prometheus set up his trap.

The “fatty, juicy” meat was actually just a bunch of bones hidden under some fat. Meanwhile, the pile of skin was stuffed with the best cuts of meat and organs.

Zeus, realizing he’d been duped, flew into a rage.

In a fit of spite, he snatched fire away from the humans. But Prometheus stole it back and gave it to the humans.

So, Prometheus basically became a superhero for humanity, while Zeus just got more and more villainous.

“By the by, this tale concerns us of the Underworld and our kin, the demons, not in the least. Between the demon and the gods of the Underworld, the spoils of the mortal realm were already determined in their own fashion.”

“So, how much did the underworld gods take?”

“Naught in particular.”

“Huh?”

“We find sufficiency in the gratitude mortals offer us each day. The demons, in their freedom, give what they can without undue burden. ‘Tis the heartfelt intent in their offerings that matter most, far more than the gifts themselves.”

I guess that’s just how the underworld gods roll.

“But lo, even those not bound by duty to honor us began offering their gratitude. Such were the Minotaurs, gathered yonder.”

As the land grew lush and fertile, grass became plentiful for the cattle to graze on.

The minotaurs who raised these cattle started praying to the gods of the Earth—also known as the underworld gods.

“They went so far as to present their cherished cattle! Hades, feeling some measure of guilt, sent forth a message.”

—No need for the choicest cuts, just the offal shall suffice!

Back then, the least valuable part of the cow was considered the organs, which spoiled quickly and didn’t keep well.

Thanks to Prometheus’s trickery, the gods received bones and fat, while humans received skin, meat, and organs.

So, the underworld gods decided to take the lowest-value parts as their offerings.

“Moreover, the hides of these beasts were of great worth to mankind, being fashioned into warm garments and other useful tools. And hark, another tale tells of Zeus, upon hearing we declined the meat, proclaiming, ‘If thou willst have it not, I shall take it!’ To which Hades swiftly dealt him a righteous blow.”

The celestial deities really are the worst.

And so, the minotaurs began regularly offering their trimmings to the gods of the earth, which earned them even stronger protection from the underworld gods.

“Thus it was I, Minos, who rose as the protector of these Minotaurs, granting them their own guardian god.”

“And, uh, why did you volunteer for that role, if I may ask?”

“Because tripe is most delectable!!!”

Ah, I see.

“The prime tripe which the Minotaurs do offer is of such savory delight, I could not but indulge! Thus, being so pleased by their gifts, I deemed it just that I should offer them mine own protection. For, truly, beef is the rightful feast for any table!”

Oh, by the way, beef tendon is part of the Achilles tendon.

“Verily, Rhadamanthys doth favor the large intestine, Aecus hath a fondness for the reticulum, and Hades doth delight in offal, relishing its curious texture, light and not overly burdened with fat.”

“I see...”

The underworld gods, it seems, not only look out for humanity but also thoroughly enjoy their offerings.

“Unto the Minotaur tribe did I grant mine own name, and to their village did I send the earth spirits, bestowing blessings upon it first. For a season, their lands prospered, and I was pleased to savor the most exquisite of Minotaur steaks… but alas...”

“Our deepest apologies, Lord Minos!”

The one apologizing is the Minotaur elder, his voice trembling with regret.

“It’s been over a hundred years since we lost our breeding bull... and during that time, we haven’t once offered sacrifices to the gods of the earth! Please forgive our betrayal!!”

“My dear, faithful followers, ye need not grieve. I have watched over thee and am well acquainted with thy trials.”

Minos, the god, speaks with a comforting tone, like a wise guardian.

“Truly, the fault lieth with me. As a god, I am bound by laws and restraints, unable to offer thee mine direct aid. It doth bring me shame that, despite all the offerings bestowed upon me, I could not do more for thee.”

“Your words are too gracious, Lord Minos...”

“Yet ye have endured through countless trials, age upon age. For this, I am most proud.”

Hearing these words from their guardian deity, the Minotaurs are moved to tears, hearts overflowing with gratitude.

But wait just a minute.

That can’t be all, right?

The Minotaur tribe has lost the pure bloodline of their noble cattle, and they’re still struggling to recover.

Being summoned here by Sensei mean there’s a plan to fix that, right?

“Verily, I did not beseech the Immortal King to summon me hither without a remedy at hand.”

Ah, so you were the one who made the request after all.

“By many decrees, gods such as we art no longer free to tread the mortal realm as we once did. These laws, largely to restrain the rashness of the heavenly gods... But I digress.”

Oh, the things these gods have to deal with.

“Thus enters the summoning art of the Immortal King—or ‘Sensei’ as ye do call him. His wisdom is sound, permitting the gods to intervene in mortal affairs only for just and righteous ends. By his hand, we ensure that our presence in the world is a boon, not a bane.”

As Minos speaks, he raises his hand, and from it, a pale blue flame flickers to life.

For a moment, I wondered if it was some kind of attack magic, but no.

The flame floats gently in the air, dancing like a butterfly on a breeze.

Slowly, the blue fire descends to the ground, its shape shifting as it goes, transforming into something tangible.

The form it takes is...

“A... bull?”

Yes, a sturdy body on four legs.

With a pair of magnificent horns crowning its head.

There’s no mistaking it.

This ‘s a bull, just as we had hoped to find in the Minotaur village.

“What... is this...?”

“Behold, the breeding bull that was slain a hundred years past, kept in preservation by this very village.”

What?!

The one the royal family supposedly took away?!

“The underworld doth not serve the souls of men alone. Birds, beasts, and even plants—should they garner enough virtue—art judged, and may be reborn as men. Likewise, men steeped in sin may find themselves reborn as animals, their task to earn virtue anew.”

So, the souls of cattle can come to the underworld, too.

But wouldn’t that mean an overwhelming number of souls to manage?

“Yet this bull hath refused rebirth. Its spirit lingered in the underworld, heavy with sorrow for leaving its duty unfinished. Even as a beast, it was a soul that cherished the kindness bestowed upon it.”

And now, Minos has returned that soul to the mortal world.

“Now, let me fulfill my charge as the guardian of the Minotaurs. Through the Immortal King’s might, I shall wield my power in this world, if only for a fleeting moment. So then, noble bull, thy time hath come. Fulfill the desire that hath bound thee to the underworld.”

Responding to Minos’s call, the breeding bull’s soul, now returned to its body, lets out a bellow.

Could it be...?

Even in soul form, this breeding bull can still... produce descendants?!