The God of Underworld - Chapter 306

Chapter 306: Chapter 5
The void ignited with arcane power.

Hecate, her eyes blazing with concentrated divine will, thrust her hands forward, the complex glyphs she had prepared snapping into ferocious clarity.

“Hadesphragis Katadesmos!” she screamed, unleashing the binding mechanism.

In response, the shimmering, interwoven magic circles encompassing the Outer One exploded into furious activity.

Threads of pure conceptual energy, luminous gold and obsidian black, erupted from the circles.

These were not chains of metal or even spiritual binding; they were infinite layers of fate and causality.

The energy wrapped around the gelatinous, shifting body of the Outer One, locking it into a prison built from the fundamental laws of the Hyperverse.

The Hadesphragis Katadesmos(Binding Curse Of Hades) was Hecate’s masterwork, created using the concept of Hades’ spear, the Desmos, which possessed the power to distort fate itself.

The spell was an ingenious metaphysical lock: it bound the target not through brute force, but by rearranging the necessary consequences of the local reality.

If the Outer One attempted to lash out, the sequence of events was already written to loop the destructive action back into a state of containment.

Any attack would be, by cosmic decree, the required action for its own further restraint.

Of course, Hecate received the help of the Fates, Frigg, and Freya in creating this spell, as their knowledge in destiny and causality far surpasses hers.

And even at her augmented level, binding this Outer One was too much for her alone to handle, so she needed the help of others to maintain it.

Flanking her were Frigg and Freya, their expressions tight with effort and determination.

Frigg, the Seer, poured her profound knowledge of destiny into the spell, ensuring the causal chains were unbreakable.

Freya, the master of Seidr magic and the subtle art of influencing the spiritual web, continuously reinforced the knots of fate, ensuring that the Outer One’s intent remained subservient to Hecate’s powerful structure.

The Outer One thrashed, its form rippling violently as it sensed the profound, limiting nature of the magic.

It was not a physical suppression, but a conceptual lock.

Crucially, the binding was effective only within the dimension it was cast.

Since the Outer One existed on a higher, transcendent plane of chaos, the spell could not touch its complete, true form.

But the spell did affect the Outer One’s projection—the dimensional shadow it cast into the Hyperverse.

Now, if the creature tried to attack, its destructive power would have to be filtered through layers of lower reality, the causal chains of the Hadesphragis Katadesmos.

It could not draw upon its true, infinite power, only a fraction sufficient to interact with the local laws of physics and magic.

But for now, that was enough.

Hecate’s face, slick with sweat from the immense expenditure of energy, twisted into a triumphant snarl. “It is contained! It is tethered to our laws! Attack! Do not give it a moment to adapt to the binding!”

The massed ranks of gods, trembling but resolute, prepared their assault.

Athena raised her spear, its tip charged with blinding, penetrating light.

Hel channeled the absolute cold of Niflheim, preparing to launch freezing shards of entropy.

Anubis readied his divine artifact, preparing to try and disrupt the creature’s chaotic concept.

But before the coordinated Hyperverse assault could be launched, the Outer One reacted in a manner that was both repulsive and terrifyingly effective.

From its countless orifices, a vast, horrifying black liquid began to ooze forth.

It poured from its limbs, its eyes, and its shifting, silent mouths, filling the space around the binding cage.

The liquid was not water or shadow, but pure, infinite black ichor of chaos, shimmering with malevolent light.

Almost immediately, the liquid began to coalesce. It gave agonizing, rapid birth to an infinite number of black, infant-like beings.

Hecate’s eyes narrowed, “Those things again!?”

These creatures were small, but each possessed countless tiny eyes and perpetually wailing mouths.

They were the grotesque, screaming spawn of the Outer One, pouring forth in a tidal wave that instantly eclipsed the sunlight.

Their collective groans and high-pitched wails were not merely sound; they were a conceptual assault, capable of breaking the minds of low-tier gods through the sheer, auditory horror of their existence.

Ra, who had been charging his solar energy, saw the tide of chaotic spawn and felt a cold, paralyzing dread seize his mind.

The memory of the ancient war, the sight of the chaos fragments tearing through his legions, flashed before him with perfect, painful clarity.

This was the same existential threat, scaled up and multiplied infinitely.

But the fear lasted only a beat.

He remembered the centuries of weakness, the endless draining, and the humiliation.

He remembered the agony of his universe until Hades made it whole.

He had been given a second chance, and he would not squander it through cowardice.

He snapped out of the memory, his teeth grinding so hard they might shatter. It’s different now! I am stronger! My universe is whole!

Ra roared, the sound an aggressive, challenging counterpoint to the wailing spawn.

He didn’t wait for the others to attack, his body became a literal solar beacon, a sphere of blinding, annihilating light.

“Gods of Egypt! Attack! This is our moment to take revenge! Do not falter! Drive the darkness back to nonexistence!!”

Ra led the charge, with his immense, sun-drenched body plunged directly into the churning tide of infant chaos.

Everywhere the golden solar light touched, the black infant creatures instantly incinerated, vaporized into thin puffs of odorless, neutral smoke.

Ra carved a burning, defiant path into the heart of the enemy, unleashing the full, renewed fury of the Egyptian Sun.

Inspired by their king’s courageous, self-sacrificing charge, the Egyptian gods immediately swallowed their profound fear.

“FOLLOW OUR KING!”

“DO NOT LET HIM FIGHT ALONE!”

Their unified, thunderous roar joined Ra’s, and the entire pantheon surged forward, charging toward the endless, screaming tide of the newborn chaos.

“DISAPPEAR! YOU DISGUSTING PIECES OF SHITS!”

“GLORY TO EGYPT!”

The battle line was instantly drawn where the light of Egypt met the infinite, weeping darkness of the Outer One’s spawn.

Ra, a blazing, furious sun, was deep within the morass, his solar flares continuously incinerating the infant creatures.

The heat generated was conceptual, designed to burn away the very idea of chaos, but the black liquid that spawned the infants was inexhaustible, constantly pouring from the Bound Outer One.

For every dozen Ra annihilated, a hundred more slithered into existence.

Behind Ra, the Egyptian Pantheon followed, their initial hesitation purged by the sight of their king’s charge.

Horus and Set, the eternal rivals, fought side-by-side with savage efficiency as if they are friends and comrades who shared countless life-and-death together.

Horus, soaring on renewed wings, launched massive cyclones of wind and light, scattering thousands of the spawn while Set, embracing the storm and violence, tore chunks out of the chaotic tide with raw, destructive sandstorms.

Anubis moved, using his newly upgraded abilities to weigh the conceptual worth of the infant creatures, instantly neutralizing any that registered as “meaningless” with a single, crushing decree of entropy.

Meanwhile, the three goddesses maintained their complex, vital position.

Hecate, supported by Frigg and Freya, poured every ounce of her will into maintaining the Hadesphragis Katadesmos, completely ignoring the pain brought by sealing a high dimensional being.

The Outer One thrashed violently within the conceptual chains, and maintaining the complex causality loops required absolute focus.

Frigg’s eyes glowed with the complexity of time itself, weaving future events back into current restraint, while Freya reinforced the magical bonds with threads of pure, unbreakable Seidr.

Athena, analyzing the flow of the chaos with cold, strategic brilliance, commanded the supporting defense. “Hel! Focus your absolute cold on the source of the spawn—the black ichor itself! Do not let it solidify; fracture its liquid state!”

Hel, cloaked in the numbing chill of Niflheim, accepted the command.

She unleashed a massive wave beyond even absolute zero, a cold so deep it threatened to stop molecular motion across the dimensional plane.

The wave crashed into the black liquid pouring from the Bound Outer One.

But the ichor did not freeze in the conventional sense; instead, it cracked and fractured into sharp, jagged conceptual shards, slowing its ability to coalesce into new infants.

Thoth, protected by layers of mathematical wards, worked frantically with the remaining Egyptian wise men, weaving complex numerical spells.

They recognized that the spawn’s collective groans and wails were not random; they were a complex, chaotic sequence designed to induce mental collapse.

Thoth deployed a massive counter-charm: a rhythmic chant based on the absolute certainty of complex, but perfect sequence of mathematical order designed to cancel out the conceptual noise of the chaos.

The effect was immediate; the mind-breaking quality of the wails was dampened, allowing the weaker gods to recover from their self-destructive panic.

But…

Despite the coordination, the battle was a desperate, resource-draining stalemate.

The Outer One, though constrained, was still a source of infinite destruction.

Ra, momentarily pulling back to replenish his solar fire, saw a massive tentacle—one of the Outer One’s larger, shifting limbs—try to bypass the main magic cage by stretching into a higher dimension.

The tentacle momentarily flickered, as the Hadesphragis Katadesmos filtered its action, forcing it back into the local dimension as a massive, but manageable, physical force.

The filtered tentacle slammed down, aiming for the core magical team.

“Shields!” Athena roared, and instantly, she, Hecate, and Frigg raised massive walls of sheer, interwoven magical energy.

The blow struck with the force of a collapsing sun, sending seismic shockwaves through the local void.

The three goddesses staggered, their robes snapping in the impossible wind, but the shield held.

The Outer One was bound, but the Hyperverse was paying a colossal price in energy and stamina just to hold the line against one weak enemy.

‘We can’t keep this up for long,” Hecate realized, sweat pouring down her face as she pushed more power into the collapsing causal loops.

They are winning the battle, but losing the war of attrition.

The fate of the Hyperverse now rested entirely on the strength of their defense—and the success of Hades’ private war in the collapsing parallel timelines.

They had to hold.

They had to endure the siege until help arrived.