The God of Underworld - Chapter 202

202: Chapter 46 202: Chapter 46 The great dining hall of Rhea’s temple glowed with warmth.

The long table stretched from one end of the marble chamber to the other, draped in white cloth embroidered with golden thread.

Platters of fruits, bread, roasted meats, and steaming bowls of grain covered the surface.

The air smelled of honey, herbs, and wine.

Servant nymphs moved quietly, refilling cups and adjusting plates, but the true heart of the room was the family gathered around the table.

Rhea sat at the head, her smile unshakable as her eyes drifted constantly over her children, unable to believe they were all together again.

Hestia sat close by, her calm presence steadying the atmosphere, though her lips often curved in a quiet smile.

Hera and Demeter sat side by side, sharing occasional whispers, their eyes sharp but softened by the occasion.

Zeus leaned back lazily in his chair, cup of wine in hand, while Poseidon tore into his food with gusto, clearly unconcerned with appearances.

Hades, silent as ever, sat nearer the end of the table, Nekyria perched beside him, swinging her small legs as she looked curiously at the dishes before her.

“Eat, eat,” Rhea urged, her voice full of joy.

“It has been centuries since I have fed you all at one table.

Do not make me wait another millennium for this.” Zeus smirked as he raised his cup.

“Mother, you might regret inviting us.

Last time we gathered like this, Poseidon tried to drown the wine and Hera vanished halfway through.” Poseidon scowled, slamming down a bone he had just finished.

“That was one time, and the wine was terrible.

If you expect me to drink swill, I’ll drown it for everyone’s good.” Demeter rolled her eyes and said, “It is no surprise you cannot appreciate fine wine, Poseidon.

Your tongue is more suited to salt water.” Poseidon narrowed his eyes.

“Careful, sister.

I may be bound to the seas, but I could flood your precious fields in the blink of an eye.” Before Demeter could retort, Hera leaned in with a sharp smile.

“And you’d be punished for it just as you always are.

Honestly, it’s tiring how predictable you are.” Poseidon barked a laugh, but his gaze sharpened.

Zeus raised his brow, smirking.

“I would enjoy seeing that, actually.

Demeter’s wrath is almost as destructive as Poseidon’s temper.

At least then, I wouldn’t be the one blamed for everything.” Hera turned her glare on him.

“You usually are the one to blame, Zeus.” Zeus leaned back with a mock sigh.

“And here I thought tonight would be peaceful.” The tension at the table thickened as the siblings began glaring at one another.

The air itself seemed to spark, their divine power bristling like caged storms.

And then, a soft laugh cut through the room.

Everyone turned to see Hestia smiling warmly, her hand resting on the table.

“Do you hear yourselves?

Children again, bickering over petty things.

Must you embarrass yourselves in front of a child?” Her eyes shifted meaningfully toward Nekyria.

The little girl froze as all attention turned toward her.

She immediately ducked against her father’s arm, peeking out shyly.

Hades glanced down at her, his expression unreadable, then he spoke in his calm, steady voice.

“Come on, don’t be shy.” The girl hesitated, clutching his sleeve tightly.

Her cheeks reddened, but after a moment she whispered, “P-please don’t fight.” Then, quickly, she buried her face against Hades’ chest.

The room softened instantly.

Hestia chuckled.

“Adorable.” She gave Zeus and Poseidon a pointed look.

“Do you see?

Even a child has more grace than you two.” Both gods shifted awkwardly.

Zeus huffed and looked away, muttering, “It’s not worth it fighting in front of children” Poseidon crossed his arms and grumbled, “Fine.” Rhea’s eyes glistened as she leaned forward, speaking with a trembling smile.

“Such a sweet child… truly, Hades, she is a blessing.

I never dreamed I would meet my granddaughter.” Nekyria peeked at her, then offered a small smile.

“Grandma’s food is delicious.” Rhea laughed through her tears and clapped her hands gently.

“Ah, to hear those words from her lips is worth more than all the treasures in the world.” The tension broke.

The gods began to eat again, this time with less hostility.

Hera and Demeter spoke softly to Rhea about their work.

Poseidon teased Zeus about his last failed conquest, earning Demeter’s cutting laughter.

Hades remained quiet, but Nekyria’s small chatter about the food, the flowers in the temple, and the nymphs she saw outside drew smiles even from her most serious relatives.

But at this moment, the air in the great hall, once lightened by food and laughter, shifted again when Rhea leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm, her gaze soft yet probing as she let her eyes sweep across her children.

Her voice, warm but serious, cut into the conversations.

“It has been so long since I have sat with all of you like this,” she said, her tone full of both nostalgia and longing.

“And I have been curious for awhile now.

Hades, my dear son, have you married Gaia, or is what happened merely a fling?” The table went quiet.

Zeus turned towards Hades, “Gaia?

Wait, don’t tell me that kid’s mother is Gaia!?” Nekyria was the one to answer, smiling shyly, “Gaia is my mom, uncle Zeus.” “What!?” Zeus almost vomited blood from jealousy.

He has long wanted to share the bed with the Primordial of Earth, but couldn’t even see her face, but Hades actually slept with her!?

Rhea leaned forward, tilting her head, “So are you two married?” All eyes turned to the King of the Underworld, who paused with his cup halfway to his lips.

His face was unreadable, as always, his voice calm and level.

“No, mother.

I am not even married.” The silence was broken by Zeus, who slammed down his cup so hard the wine splashed.

His grin was wide, his tone loud and jealous.

“Unbelievable!

You mean you get to live your life, sleep around with anyone, without a wife nagging at you day and night, questioning where you go, demanding explanations for every little thing?

How lucky you are, brother!

Truly, chaos favor you most.” Hades did not even glance at him, merely set down his cup with measured calm and returned to his food.

Hera’s eyes, however, sharpened like blades as she turned to Zeus, her smile cold as she spoke in a tone full of venom.

“Do not compare Hades to you, Zeus.

He does not behave like some shameless horndog with no discipline.” Zeus winced, visibly shrinking under her glare, but muttered, “It was only a jest…” Rhea exhaled heavily, her eyes narrowing as she looked across the table.

She stared at her daughters with a worried look.

“Hestia I do not worry for,” she said, her tone softening.

“She has sworn her eternal vow, and I have long accepted it.

But Hades, Hera, Demeter…” She shook her head, her voice heavy with motherly insistence.

“I only wish to see you all settled, with a partner who will give you joy and someone to share your burdens.

Is that too much for a mother to ask?” Hera straightened in her seat, her eyes gleaming with unshakable resolve as she answered calmly, yet firmly.

“Then you need not worry, mother.

I have already decided on my path.

I plan on marrying Hades, and only Hades.

So there is nothing for you to fret about.” The room shifted instantly.

Demeter, who had been lazily picking at her plate, arched a brow and leaned back in her chair.

She let out a low chuckle, almost mocking.

“As for me, mother, I already have Persephone.

She is my treasure and my joy.

I cannot imagine needing more.

But if you insist, I can simply take Hades as my husband.

Would that satisfy you?” The words hung in the air like a spark to dry tinder.

Hera’s chair scraped against the floor as she leaned forward, her eyes blazing.

“You dare,” she hissed, “to casually say such a thing?

Hades is mine.” Demeter’s smirk widened, her tone almost playful but edged with sharpness.

“Yours?

He is not married to you, is he?

Do not speak as if you already wear his ring.” Truthfully, if there comes a time where she’d get married, Demeter’s first option would always be Hades.

But that would be almost impossible.

After all, she doesn’t really care about marriage or mating.

She already has a daughter, and although not related by blood, that is more than enough for her.

Across the table, Poseidon choked on his drink, coughing so violently the servants rushed to his side.

Zeus nearly dropped his cup, his knuckles white as he gripped it.

Both brothers’ faces turned red, not from wine, but from sheer jealousy and frustration.

These two, despite already being married, has always been frivolous.

They would sleep around with anything and anyone that they fancy.

And in their hearts, they had always desired their sisters.

They had always envied Hades, who, despite his silence and distance, drew the eyes of the goddesses they could never truly claim.

Zeus’ mind wandered bitterly.

If Hera had not immediately followed Hades into the Underworld after the war, he would have done everything in his power to make her his, to force her into his bed and call her his queen.

Poseidon’s teeth ground together.

If Demeter had not been so fierce, if her divine weapon had not nearly severed his manhood in their last encounter, he would already have given her a daughter, one born from his bloodline.

Instead, here they sat, forced to listen as the women they had long coveted so casually offered themselves to the one brother who did not seek them at all.

Rhea, watching the tension rise, sighed again, though there was the faintest glint of amusement in her eyes.

“My children,” she said, her voice calm but cutting through the air like a soft breeze that doused flames, “you quarrel and posture, but what matters most is not who claims whom.

It is whether your hearts will truly find peace.

That is what I wish for all of you.” Hestia, serene as ever, nodded slowly.

“Peace is rare among us, mother.

But perhaps tonight, we may at least eat without more sparks flying.” The words made the tension loosen, though Hera and Demeter’s glares still lingered, and Zeus and Poseidon’s jealousy burned silently beneath their forced laughter.

Hades alone remained silent, his hand idly brushing Nekyria’s hair as she leaned against him, blissfully unaware of the storm of emotions swirling around the table.