"You can talk?"
Hearing the old ghoul in front of him speak, Deimos was surprised but remained vigilant, backing away a few steps with his bone before asking:
"Who exactly are you? And where is this place?"
"Who I am isn't important. You can just call me Old Ghoul."
The skeletal old man seemed to move with great difficulty. He shakily stood up, then, leaning on the giant creature's remains on the ground, walked up to Deimos and looked down at him:
"This is the Death Realm. You must have seen that fellow outside; he is the legendary Death, Thanatos."
"I know he's Thanatos." Deimos asked concisely, "Where is the Death Realm?"
"The Death Realm? The Death Realm is a place within the Underworld ruled by Hades. It is entirely governed by Death, Thanatos. In a sense, it could be said to be Thanatos's fiefdom within the Underworld."
The old man in front of Deimos whispered to him:
"This has always been the most desolate place in the Underworld. Even wandering souls are unwilling to approach here. Only those who have offended Death, Thanatos, or committed heinous crimes are thrown in here by him. Besides me, until recently, the entire Death Realm only had that poor Sisyphus. That old fellow, relying on his minor cleverness, managed to imprison Death for three years, which resulted in no Death on the surface world at all. During that time, the wilderness was full of undead wandering around who had died but couldn't truly die. So he was punished to endlessly push a rock uphill here, with no rest. Little one, you're so young, how did Death throw you in here?"
After hearing the old man's words, Deimos remained silent for a long time before answering with a hint of grievance and confusion:
"I don't know either."
"Hmm?"
The old man chuckled:
"How could you not know? Did you spit or pee on a statue of Death, Thanatos, or something?"
Deimos shook his head and replied:
"I am a Spartan. The people of our Sparta City-State respect the Underworld Gods. While we don't build temples to worship them, we also don't deliberately blaspheme them."
"Then you must have committed a heinous crime? But looking at your young age, what crime could you have committed... Could it be that you accidentally killed the offspring of a god?"
"I only harmed my brother."
Deimos answered honestly:
"During a simulated battle before, I used a wooden spear to break his ribs."
"Then I understand."
The old man pointed at Deimos and chuckled:
"You're just like me; a god naturally dislikes you."
"Why would a god dislike me?"
Deimos asked in surprise:
"We mortals are so powerless, so weak compared to gods. Our lifespan is but a blink of an eye to them, and our lives are insignificant in their eyes."
"That's not necessarily true. There are many reasons why gods dislike mortals."
The old man counted on his fingers:
"Some men are born handsome and are snatched by goddesses or even gods. Some women are born beautiful and are also taken by gods. And there are those with unparalleled wisdom or skillful hands. If they surpass gods in certain aspects, the hypocritical gods will unleash their divine punishment, using dishonorable means to eliminate those who bring them shame. For example, there are quite a few gods who want to eliminate the now world-renowned great Hero, Heracles. Along his adventures, he must have offended countless gods, but it's only because his strength is too great and the gods cannot defeat him that they turn a blind eye to him. But for old people like me, and children like you, if we accidentally provoke them, then we're in big trouble."
"That's too unreasonable!"
Deimos said angrily.
"It is indeed very unreasonable. For an old man like me, it doesn't matter; I'm not far from Death anyway, and the outcome is the same whether I stay in the mortal world or the Underworld. But you are different. You are still young; your life should have just begun."
At this point, the old man's words suddenly stopped. His deep, dark eye sockets gazed at Deimos, and then he suddenly asked:
"Young man, do you desire freedom?"
"Freedom? Of course, I do."
Deimos sat down, his face full of despair, and looked up at the dark ceiling of the cave:
"But what can I do? Death, Thanatos, is guarding outside. Even if he somehow neglected his duty one day and let me escape, I would still have to escape this Death Realm. After escaping this Death Realm, I would need to find a way to cross the River Styx to return to the mortal world. Once in the mortal world, I would still have to travel an unknown distance to return to Sparta... Such a journey might be impossible even for those famous Heroes. Can I really do it?"
"Why can't you? Aren't you a Spartan? Isn't the spirit of Spartan warriors to never forget their will to fight, no matter how desperate the situation?"
The old man chuckled twice and added:
"Moreover, Heroes are called Heroes precisely because no one believed they could accomplish those feats before they actually did."
"You are right."
Deimos was silent for a moment, then suddenly stood up and bowed to the old man:
"I am a Spartan. I should never give up."
He turned around, but instead of walking directly out of the cave, he dug out two more suitable bones from the ground and began practicing the Spartan spear fighting technique with grunts and laughs.
The old man watched for a while, then suddenly called out to Deimos:
"Young man, come here for a moment."
Deimos stopped his movements upon hearing this, approached the old man with confusion, and asked, "What is it?"
"Give me your things."
The old man took the bones that Deimos was using as a "spear" and "shield" from his hands. Then, streaks of lightning burst from between his fingers. In this state, Deimos was astonished to see the old man mix these bones with other shattered bones on the ground, molding them like clay into a bone spear and a round shield.
"Here you go, young man. A good warrior must have good weapons."
The old man returned the spear and shield to Deimos, then patted him on the shoulder.
Deimos took the weapons, looked down at the spear and shield in his hands, and asked curiously:
"What was that just now? How did you do it?"
"That thing."
The old man spread his hand, revealing the sparks of electricity bursting from between his fingers to Deimos:
"That's called Magnetic Field Rotation. You want to learn it... I can teach you, you know?"