The God of Underworld - Chapter 312

Chapter 312: Chapter 11
Hades appeared with the entire Celtic gods in the grand, ancient Throne Room of Celtic Pantheon, the mythical center of the Celtic Pantheon.

The air here was dense with raw, untapped magical energy, older than time itself, smelling of moss, earth, and the wild wind.

Hades looked around, and immediately noticed the lone figure who awaited them before a dais carved from what looked like a petrified ancient oak.

It was Morrigan, the name immediately appeared in his mind, her black hair flowing down her cloak of midnight feathers.

In her hand, she held three objects that floated just above her palm, her expression showing a mild surprise seeing them appear, before quickly regaining their calm.

Hades observed the items, a glowing crystalline stone that pulsed with a primordial blue light; a burning sword that emitted heatless, perpetual flame; and a massive, black cauldron that seemed to absorb all light and sound.

The moment Hades observed the items, the conceptual weight of the three items slammed into his consciousness.

It was a familiar power, almost identical in source and presence to the devastating spear Lugh carried.

They were objects of profound, unquantifiable divine power.

Lugh, moving with ritualistic precision, took the three treasures from Morrigan, he then summoned his own magnificent weapon, a spear, which appeared in his grasp as it trailed ribbons of solar fire.

He presented all four objects—the Stone, the Sword, the Cauldron, and the Spear—to Hades.

“Supreme Deity, these are the Four Treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann,” Lugh stated, his voice ringing with reverence. “The Stone of Fál, representing knowledge, the Spear of Lugh, representing destruction, the Sword of Nuada, representing choice, and the Cauldron of Dagda, representing creatioon. The Heart of the Celtic Pantheon—our conceptual anchor—will only manifest when these four objects are perfectly fused into a single, cohesive artifact.”

Hades stared at them in fascination. This is the first time he have seen such a unique Heart, well, each heart were unique, but this is the first time he have seen a fragmented heart.

Lugh looked at the ground, his voice heavy with past failure. “We have tried every method, every ritual, every spell, hoping to combine them and create a weapon mighty enough to face the Outer Ones. But…”

He stared at the four artifacts, and shook his head in disappointment, “We have always failed. The dissonance between the items is too great that it’s impossible to actually fuse them. But I believe that with your transcendent power, Lord Hades, you alone is capable enough to forge the four of them into one.”

Hades took the four legendary treasures.

The moment they rested in his hands, his newfound power over Law immediately identified the conceptual problem: the items were mutually exclusive.

Knowledge clashed with Choice, and Creation conflicted with Destruction.

The very concepts of these four artifacts pretty much guaranteed a resisted union.

Hades narrowed his eyes, his will focusing the entire boundless energy of the Hyperverse into his being.

He would not rely on mere divine alchemy to fuse them, instead, he would apply a conceptual Law powered by the power of the entire Hyperverse.

He chose the idea of “Becoming One”, and using the power of the Hyperverse, he elevated to the level of a concept.

Then, he engraved that concept into these four artifacts, conceptually fusing them.

The entire Celtic Universe trembled.

The air pressure in the Throne Room became a physical, agonizing weight.

A cascade of shimmering, multi-dimensional light encased the four objects as Hades enforced the supreme Law of Unity.

The process was agonizingly slow, forcing the very foundations of the Celtic cosmos to yield to his absolute will.

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Meanwhile, in a reality isolated by millennia of self-imposed solitude, the Shinto Pantheon was meeting a different, terrifying fate.

In the sacred, silent halls of the High Celestial Plain, the gods stared in collective, paralyzed horror.

Their universe, which they had meticulously shielded and conceptually isolated from the void, was being violated.

And from that gap, a massive, viscous black tentacle, thicker than any mountain, tipped with a thousand spinning eyes, was prying open the universe’s tightly woven dimensional shell.

As it moved, a sickening sound, like colossal ceramic grinding on ceramic, echoed through their reality as the Outer One, sensing the energy signature of this very reclusive and hidden world, finally located the isolated Shinto Universe.

Then, through the widening dimensional hole, a gigantic, rotating eye peeked in, observing the isolated reality with an expression of pure, indifferent hunger.

Staring at its abyss-like eyes, the Shinto Pantheon was overwhelmed with fear, some who looked deeper felt their soul being sucked in, and even those who were quick enough to look away started to bleed from their eyes.

They wanted to escape, but they knew they couldn’t, after all, they have lost the gamble.

The Shinto Gods had chosen seclusion and gamble that if they remained quiet, passive, and completely disconnected from the chaotic outside world, the outer ones would actually fail to notice them, ensuring their survival.

And their refusal to form alliances, their insistence on self-reliance, it was all a defense mechanism born out of fear and extreme caution.

Now, their gamble had failed spectacularly.

They were exposed, was left utterly alone, and the sheer magnitude of the Outer One’s gaze confirmed their doom.

They knew, at this moment, they are finished.

After all, even if they called for help, their position was so conceptually hidden that it would take a miracle for any allied pantheon to locate and arrive in time.

The safety mechanism that was supposed to protect them had now became the reason for their annihilation.

Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess, stood at the front of the divine assembly, her brilliant aura flickering with the cold light of sadness and regret.

Regret, yes, a bitter wave of regret washed over her. Why did she insist on self-seclusion? Why did she think it was a good idea to hide and cut off their contact to the outside world?

If only they formed an alliance, if only they were connected to the Hyperverse, if only they had someone to call… But there was no ‘if’, and the moment for regret had passed.

…no.

Now is not the time for regret.

Her face immediately turned solemn and determined. If they are going to die, shouldn’t they at least die with the dignity befitting that of gods?

She drew her sword, along with her mirror, and shouted, her voice echoing with the primal fire of the sun.

“Kamis and Spirits! Heed my call! Prepare yourselves for battle! We stand here, alone! But we will meet this end with honor!”

The gods, despite the overwhelming terror of the massive eye staring in, heeded her call.

Fear was replaced by the fierce loyalty and warrior spirit of their culture.

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At the same time, in the boundless, celestial heights of the Chinese Pantheon, an entirely different preparation was underway.

Here, there was no surprise, only cold, unshakeable determination.

Gods, Immortals, and Saints, the entire Celestial Bureaucracy, stood arrayed in ranks that stretched across the sky, backed by billions of perfectly disciplined Heavenly Soldiers and arrogant cultivators.

They stared at the gap opened by an Outer One in their universe with absolute, ingrained certainty.

They believed themselves the strongest, oldest, and most structurally perfect reality in existence.

Defeat was not a consideration, and annihilation was simply a flaw in the enemy’s logic.

After all, since day one, these people always had the drive to defy the heavens and ascend passed mortality and reach the apex.

This outer one, for them, is nothing more than another hurdle to breakthrough.

But, Saint Nuwa, the creator and leader of this immense army, stood alone at the very forefront.

Her robes flowed in the cosmic winds, her gaze fixed on the dimensional fracture that had just appeared in the vault of the Chinese Universe, with a single eye peeking at them.

Her face, usually cold and indifferent to mortal and even divine concerns, stared into the void with professional intensity, as if she embodies what the people behind her believed in.

Yet, deep inside, shielded from all observers, a kernel of real worry bloomed.

Nuwa had made excursions into the outer realities countless times, and she had seen the transcendent, reality-breaking power of the Outer Ones.

She knew, with chilling certainty, that the magnificent, vast army arrayed behind her, composed of the most powerful magic and martial artists in existence, would at best only delay the inevitable.

But she couldn’t show any weakness. She had to believe. Or else the people behind her would lose all morale.

Just then, the crack widened, and a wave of concentrated, oily darkness poured out.

It was a dense, endless cascade of the black, screaming, infant-like creatures with countless eyes and mouths, identical to the spawn the Hyperverse had just defeated.

They spilled into the Chinese cosmos, their collective wail of meaningless existence threatening to devour the very Qi that sustained the celestial realm.

Nuwa’s vast, celestial power radiated outward, a brilliant protective aura around the first ranks.

Her voice, though calm, was backed by the conceptual weight of creation itself.

“Heavenly soldiers! Gods! Immortals! Charge! Do not let the primordial chaos touch our realms!”

With a unified, earth-shaking roar of absolute confidence and martial prowess, the mighty Chinese army, the greatest collection of martial and magical strength in their history, charged forward to meet the seemingly infinite tide of darkness.