The God of Underworld - Chapter 203

203: Chapter 47 203: Chapter 47 The dinner wound to its natural close, the platters emptied, the wine pitchers drained, and the room filled with the soft murmur of servants clearing the table.

The firelight from the great braziers dimmed as the night deepened, leaving only the warm glow that cast long shadows across the marble pillars of Rhea’s temple.

Zeus rose first, his movements loud and careless as he adjusted his cloak and stretched as if the night had been nothing more than a tiresome formality.

His eyes flicked toward Hera, lingering a moment too long, but her pointed glare forced him to look away.

Clicking his tongue in irritation, he leaned down to kiss Rhea’s cheek, muttering a quick, “It was good to see you, mother.” Then, without waiting for any reply, he swept toward the exit.

Poseidon followed shortly after, his demeanor calmer but his expression unreadable.

He gave Rhea a proper bow, and to Hestia, a small respectful nod.

His gaze, however, betrayed a flicker of envy as it landed briefly on Demeter, who was still laughing quietly with her sisters.

Straightening his shoulders, he sighed, muttered his farewell, and left with heavy footsteps echoing against the stone floor.

The great doors closed behind them with a final thud, and the atmosphere softened at once.

Hera and Demeter lingered, their faces warm with smiles as they turned back to their mother and sister.

“Mother,” Hera said gently, leaning down to embrace Rhea.

The Titaness wrapped her arms around her daughter, pressing a kiss to her brow as Hera allowed herself a rare moment of tenderness.

“Take care of yourself.

And do not worry too much.

Things will fall into place in time.” Demeter followed, drawing Hestia into her arms first, planting a kiss on her cheek, then doing the same with Rhea.

“I will bring Persephone next time,” she promised, her tone soft but sincere.

“You deserve to see her more often, not just hear about her through others.” Rhea’s eyes misted, and she cupped both of their faces.

“You are my strength.

Even after all these eons, to see you still together, still standing strong… it makes me proud beyond words.” As the three embraced, Hades stood slightly apart, his composure calm but his gaze softer than usual.

Nekyria clung to his side, her small hand wrapped around his robes, her wide eyes taking in the warmth of her family’s affection.

When the women finally parted, Hades stepped forward, inclining his head respectfully to both Hestia and Rhea.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” he said in his low, steady voice.

“It has been… good, to share a meal again.” Rhea reached out, resting her hand briefly against his arm.

“It has been more than good, Hades.

With you, it has been perfect.

Please, visit more often in the future.” Hades’ lips curved ever so slightly, a flicker of warmth in his otherwise stoic expression.

“I will try, mother.” Beside him, Nekyria suddenly piped up, her voice bright and innocent as she raised her hand to wave.

“Goodbye, Grandma!

Goodbye, Aunt Hestia!

I’ll come again and bring you flowers next time!” Hestia’s composure cracked into a full, warm laugh, and she reached down to brush Nekyria’s hair.

“We will hold you to that, little one.

Be safe, and listen well to your father.” Rhea’s eyes glowed with fondness as she lifted her hand to wave back, her smile wide and filled with pride.

“Stay kind, my sweet child.

The world needs that kindness.” Hades nodded once more, then raised his hand.

With a single motion, the air before them tore open into a massive gate of shadows, its dark frame etched with silver symbols that pulsed faintly as the path to the Underworld revealed itself.

The swirling void shimmered like water, beckoning them home.

Without another word, Hades adjusted Nekyria in his arms and stepped forward.

Hera and Demeter fell in line behind him, exchanging one last smile with Hestia and Rhea before following their brother into the gate.

The great portal closed with a sound like a sigh, leaving behind only the lingering warmth of family, and the quiet echo of farewells spoken with love.

* * * Underworld.

Thanatos sat slumped over Hades’ massive obsidian desk, quill scratching against parchment as he tried to make sense of the ever-growing mountain of documents in front of him.

His once neat handwriting had grown shaky and uneven from exhaustion, his eyes bloodshot with heavy bags beneath them.

Every time he finished stamping one decree, three more requests were dropped on the desk.

The sheer weight of responsibility was pressing down on him like the very walls of Tartarus.

He muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with bitterness, “Work for the Lord of the Underworld, work for Hera, work for Demeter, and still my own duties on top of it all.

Is this retribution for some sin I don’t remember committing?

Or has my king finally decided to punish me to death without sending me to Tartarus?” The door creaked open, and a pair of Divine Spirits shuffled inside, carrying scrolls in their arms.

One of them cleared his throat nervously.

“Lord Thanatos, another report from the Asphodel Meadows.

The shades there are demanding faster processing into their sectors.

The flow has doubled since this morning.” Thanatos rubbed his temples, groaning.

“Put it on the stack.

The third pile to the left.

No, not that one, that’s Demeter’s agricultural petitions.

The other left.

And for the love of Nyx, be quick about it, I can’t tell which mountain is which anymore.” Another spirit stepped forward, bowing slightly.

“Lord Thanatos, Lady Hecate requests an audience.

She says there are disturbances along the underworld boundaries, and she insists it requires immediate attention from either you or Lord Hades himself.” Thanatos shot the spirit a hollow glare, his quill snapping in his hand.

He slammed his ink-stained fist on the desk and hissed, “Do I look like I have the time to entertain more business while drowning in enough scrolls to bury Olympus twice over!?

Tell Hecate that Lord Hades will handle it once he returns, and if she insists otherwise, she can drag me into the void herself!” The spirit paled, bowed rapidly, and hurried out of the office.

Thanatos leaned back in his chair, exhaling a shaky breath.

He looked at the towering piles of parchment surrounding him like prison walls and muttered to himself again.

“When Lord Hades said he trusted me, I thought it was a gesture of respect.

Now I see it was a death sentence disguised as faith.

Gods above, if this continues, I’ll end up joining the shades I’m sorting.” Another spirit entered, this one carrying a tray with food and tea.

She smiled kindly at him.

“Lord Thanatos, you should rest and eat.

You’ve been at this ever since Lord Hades left.

Even gods have limits.” Thanatos gave her a half-hearted laugh, his tone dry and humorless.

“Rest?

Limits?

In this office, those words don’t exist.

If I collapse, the paperwork will multiply overnight, and by the time I wake up, it will swallow the entire palace.

Do you want to see the Underworld fall into chaos?

Because that’s how it happens.” The spirit left the tray on a corner of the desk and quietly withdrew, leaving him muttering curses under his breath.

He picked up the tea, stared at it blankly, and whispered, “Lord Hades, my king, when you return, you’d better bring me something worth all this suffering.

Because if you don’t, I swear I’ll march myself to Tartarus and chain my soul there forever.” His pen scratched against parchment again, the office filled with the endless sound of quills, sighs, and the faint rustle of parchment mountains closing in.

Just then, Thanatos felt the suffocating aura of divinity the moment it washed through the halls of the fortress.

His entire being loosened with relief, as though a mountain had been lifted from his chest.

He didn’t wait for a servant or herald to announce their return; he shot out of the office in a blur of black feathers, his wings unfurling as he sped through corridors and courtyards until he reached the massive obsidian gates.

There, he saw his king just as Hades was sealing the portal with a wave of his hand, Hera and Demeter’s auras flaring like suns behind him Thanatos immediately dropped to his knees before them, his forehead nearly pressed against the cold black stone.

His voice cracked, both from exhaustion and pent-up frustration, as he cried out, “My Lord Hades!

Hera!

Demeter!

At long last, you’ve returned!

Do you have any idea the torment I have endured in your absence!?

The paperwork piled higher than the palace walls, the petitions never ceased, the spirits swarmed me like vultures, and I-” His words broke into an incoherent groan as he pressed his face into his hands, trembling with despair.

“I thought I was going to wither into dust.

Three days without proper sleep!

Do you know how many decrees I’ve signed without reading because I no longer saw the words!?

If the Underworld hasn’t collapsed yet, it’s only because fate has been merciful!” Hera raised a brow, folding her arms across her chest, her expression sharp yet tinged with amusement.

“Truly, Thanatos, one would think you had been asked to drag every mortal soul down here by hand.

You are the God of Death, yet you sound like a mortal clerk abandoned in his master’s house.” Demeter chuckled softly, shaking her head.

“Poor thing.

He looks like he hasn’t seen a bed since we left.

I almost pity him.” Thanatos raised his weary, bloodshot eyes to them, his voice trembling with disbelief.

“Almost pity?

Almost?

Demeter, I was worked to the brink of oblivion!

I deserve statues erected in my honor, or at the very least a temple, for the labor I’ve endured in your name!” Hades stepped forward, his calm, deep voice cutting through Thanatos’ rambling.

His eyes softened slightly as he reached out and placed a firm hand on Thanatos’ shoulder.

The touch alone seemed to steady him, as though all the storm within him had been calmed.

“Thanatos, you have done well.

More than well.

I entrusted the Underworld to you, and you did not falter.

That is enough.

You may rest now.” Thanatos blinked up at him, stunned, his lips quivering as though he wanted to argue but lacked the strength.

“Rest…?” he whispered, almost unbelieving.

“I… I can really rest?” “Yes,” Hades replied with a faint smile that barely curved his lips.

“Leave the mountains of parchment to us.

Hera, Demeter, and I will handle what we left behind.

Go to your chambers, sleep, and do not wake until your body demands it.

That is my order.

And once you’re awake, I have a reward for you.” For the first time in days, tears pricked at the corners of Thanatos’ tired eyes.

He bowed his head deeply, voice hoarse but filled with sincerity.

“My king… you are too merciful.

I… I shall obey.” Demeter, watching the exchange, smirked and leaned toward Hera.

“Look at that, Hera.

Hades’ touch alone tames him.

Imagine what would happen if he ever decided to use that charm on others more stubborn.” Hera shot her a sidelong glare, though her lips curved upward just slightly.

“He doesn’t need charm.

Authority is enough.” Hades ignored their banter and gently nudged Thanatos toward the fortress.

“Go, Thanatos.

Sleep.

You’ve more than earned it.” The weary god stumbled to his feet, bowing one last time before staggering away, muttering half-coherently about beds, pillows, and eternal gratitude.

Once he was gone, Hera let out a quiet sigh, brushing back her hair.

“He looks half-dead.

I almost feel guilty for leaving our duties to him.” Demeter snorted.

“Almost.

But not enough to stop you from doing it again, if the chance arises.” Hades gave them both a sidelong glance, his expression unreadable, before turning and leading them into the fortress.

The air shifted as the gates sealed shut behind them, the Underworld’s heartbeat once more steady under its true rulers’ care.