The God of Underworld - Chapter 271
Chapter 271: Chapter 29
It was finally over.
Hecate exhaled deeply, her breath trembling as relief washed over her like a soft tide after a raging storm.
The cosmos, once filled with chaos and destruction, now lay eerily quiet.
The air itself seemed to hum with exhaustion, the remnants of divine power still crackling faintly across the ruined expanse of the battlefield.
She hovered in the air, her robes torn and burned in several places, her once-brilliant aura dimmed to a flickering ember.
Her chest rose and fell slowly as she took in the sight before her—nothing remained of the Primordial Giant. Not even dust. Its existence had been completely erased, leaving behind only silence.
Then, from that silence, came the sound of a single voice.
A booming roar broke through the void.
“It’s over! The Giant has been slain! We have won!” Zeus bellowed, his voice shaking the heavens themselves.
For a heartbeat, the entire cosmos seemed to pause—then erupted in celebration.
The Olympians cheered wildly, their divine voices rising in a triumphant chorus that echoed across the stars.
Thunder rolled as Zeus raised his hand high, lightning dancing in joy.
Poseidon lifted his trident, waves of azure light rippling from its tip, and even Ares laughed, his battle cry filled with exhilaration.
Athena, Artemis, Metis, Hestia, and Astraea let out a sigh of relief, letting out a small smile.
On the other side, Odin raised Gungnir, his single eye gleaming with pride and exhaustion.
The Norse gods followed his lead, shouting with unrestrained triumph.
Thor slammed Mjolnir against his shield, the sound resonating like a drumbeat of victory.
Even Hel smirked faintly, muttering something about how it was a miracle they survived at all.
Hecate allowed herself to smile faintly, a rare softness breaking her usual composure.
She could finally breathe a sigh of relief, it’s over. They have won.
But the moment she visibly relaxed, her body shuddered from exhaustion. Her divinity that was stretched beyond its limits, faltered.
Her body swayed midair, her vision blurring, the stars themselves beginning to spin.
Just as her knees buckled and her consciousness wavered, a gentle hand steadied her.
She turned her head, and there stood Nyx.
The Goddess of Night looked radiant even amid ruin, her long hair flowing like the endless darkness between galaxies, her presence both terrifying and comforting.
She smiled faintly, her eyes soft.
“It’s over,” Nyx said quietly, her voice carrying both exhaustion and infinite calm.
Hecate nodded weakly, her lips curling into a tired smile. “Yes… it is.”
Together, they looked out over the gods of both pantheons, watching as warriors embraced one another, as laughter mixed with tears, and as divine pride softened into something almost human—relief, joy, and hope.
Then, Hecate’s gaze drifted beyond them, past the victorious cries, past the fractured stars, to the gaping wound that remained in the cosmos.
The void still pulsed faintly, an open scar that led to the unknown depths beyond reality.
Her expression hardened slightly.
“Only Hades remains…” she whispered.
Nyx followed her gaze, her smile fading into solemn understanding.
“Yes,” she murmured. “It’s all up to him now.”
And in that silence that followed, as the cheers of gods faded into the distance, both goddesses stood side by side, watching, waiting, and praying that the Lord of the Underworld would succeed where failure meant the end of all things.
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It was chaos, pure, unfiltered, and all-consuming chaos.
That was the only word capable of describing the incomprehensible storm that raged in the void beyond the universe, where even existence itself trembled under the weight of what unfolded.
This was not a place where stars were born or died, this was the primordial nothingness before such ideas had ever been conceived.
Here, concepts lost their meaning.
Reason and logic evaporated, time and space twisted into knots, and even the notion of “reality” screamed as it was rewritten and devoured in real time.
Within that maddening abyss, two beings clashed.
Each strike they exchanged did not simply destroy but it redefined reality itself.
When their powers met, creation shuddered.
When they separated, entire layers of reality dissolved, replaced by something new and alien.
Hades stood amidst it all, or rather, towered over the infinite universe.
In his true form, he was an immense giant of dark violet flame, his body composed of pure divinity fused with the concept of death and the abyssal shadow that dwelled beneath existence.
His form burned brighter than galaxies, his flames devouring light, time, and causality alike.
The inferno that surrounded him was not heat but termination, the end of all creation given form.
Opposite him loomed the Outer One, an entity that existed beyond comprehension.
It was not alive, yet it moved.
It was not sentient, yet it understood.
Its form, if such a word could even be used, was a formless sea of corruption, a grotesque mass of writhing tentacles that shimmered in colors the universe had no name for.
Countless eyes blinked open and shut across its flesh, each one birthing and destroying galaxies with every glance.
Mouths, endless, whispering, screaming mouths, spread across its infinite body, gnawing at the very concept of existence.
The concepts they each embody devoured each other relentlessly.
The Outer One’s Primordial chaos burned, consumed by the conceptual weight of Hades’ death and darkness.
Entire sections of its infinite form disintegrated into ash, reduced to nothingness by the flame of death.
But even as it burned, it retaliated—the black ichor of its essence splashing against Hades’ colossal form, corrupting the god’s flesh.
Where the slime touched, patches of darkness festered, sprouting eyes and teeth of their own, biting and tearing at his flames as if the void itself sought to reclaim him.
Hades stared at each darkness eating at his flames and let out a low, rumbling breath that echoed through eternity.
His body trembled, his flames dimmed in places, and each movement he make was agony, yet he refused to yield.
He stared at the outer one. He had expected a monster, but not this much.
Even with his full divine might unleashed, even with the transcendence born from the Breakdown Sphere, he was only barely holding his ground.
Every ounce of his being was poured into this battle, and yet, he had not managed to inflict a single permanent wound.
As he observed, the outer one, for the first time, did something that Hades has never expected.
The Outer One’s eyes, all of them, billions upon billions scattered across its endless surface, blinked in unison.
And then, impossibly, they all turned toward him. Every gaze converged upon the Lord of the Underworld, piercing through layers of space, thought, and identity until there was nowhere left to hide.
Its countless mouths moved as one, merging into a single, impossible orifice that stretched across the cosmos.
And then….
It opened its mouth…