Crab had been killed by Heracles, and then Heracles severed the Hydra's head. If I had to guess, the venomous blood that spurted from the Hydra's neck must have mixed with Crab's blood as he lay dead beside it. That likely caused the blood in his body to become poisonous. But for some reason, his body didn't dissolve from the poison. Instead, it remained in a half-dead, half-alive state—just like mine.
When the spirits of the Asphodel Meadows realized that Crab's blood was poisonous and dangerous to them, they immediately abandoned him and turned their attention to me instead. They surrounded me, and I kept backing away until I nearly reached Crab's side.
But as soon as I got close to him, the spirits retreated. None of them dared to approach within his radius. For the first time, they looked afraid.
Anyone who came into contact with Crab's blood would suffer. At first, I was hesitant to get near him, afraid that the poison might harm me. But I noticed that as he wandered aimlessly through the field, the flowers and grass beneath his feet didn't wither or die like before.
That's when I realized—it was safe to approach him now.
And to make it through this place, Crab was the key. He was the one thing the spirits feared.
I hoisted him onto my back—but before setting off, I stuffed a cloth into his mouth just in case he tried to bite me again like last time.
Thankfully, his saliva wasn't poisonous.
With Crab on my back, I moved through the spirits of Asphodel. They panicked, scattering in all directions like ants fleeing a disturbed nest. Crab had done his job perfectly.
Nice work, buddy.
I crossed the meadow heading straight for the mountain ahead. The entire way, Crab kept trying to bite at my neck and shoulder, which was more annoying than anything. Clearly, he still wanted to drink my blood, but the cloth gag made that impossible.
And now, I had officially crossed the Asphodel Meadows. I looked ahead, trying to find the path forward. Just then, that all-too-familiar, annoying voice echoed in my ears again.
It was Crab.
"Eh… Eft… ell uck is in iout i ean i ay!" he mumbled through the cloth in his mouth, trying to complain and pull it free. He'd finally shaken off the effects of Asphodel's curse.
I set him down. He looked at me, confused. "What did you do to me?"
"Don't ask. Just move," I said. I didn't dare tell him what had happened in the meadow. If he learned about the poison flowing in his blood, he might panic—or worse, lose the will to live.
Crab narrowed his eyes. "You're hiding something… Why won't you tell me? I wanna know. I wanna know. I wanna knowww!"
Ugh. Honestly, I kind of wished we were still in the Asphodel Meadows—at least he'd been quiet for a while.
"Quit wasting time. We made it out. Now we're close to finding Sisyphus. Let's go," I urged.
"Asphodel Meadows…? How come I don't remember passing through them?" Crab looked puzzled. "Hmm… but were they pretty? I wanna go back and see. Just a quick look, okay, Sept?"
He started turning around, getting ready to run back toward that cursed place. Oh, for the love of—
I grabbed his collar and dragged him back. "No. This—is—not—the—time—for—flower—viewing," I snapped as I pulled him along.
There was no way I was going back to that wretched meadow.
"Okay, okay! That hurts, Sept!" he whined.
I let go of his collar. He scowled at me and then stormed off ahead in silence, clearly sulking.
We walked along the foothills for a while, and at last—we reached our destination.
Right in front of us was the Field of Punishment, the part that sprawled across a series of steep valleys.
And finally—we saw the man we'd been searching for.
There he was: King Sisyphus, hard at work preparing to roll a massive boulder up the mountain. He was completely focused, like it was just another part of his daily routine.
Crab and I rushed to him, hoping to ask for help escaping the Underworld. But the answer we got?
It knocked the wind out of us.
"No."
Sisyphus rejected us coldly. Then he turned his back and went right back to rolling the boulder—without even sparing us a second glance.
We had come all this way... for nothing.