The God of Underworld - Chapter 314
Chapter 314: Chapter 13
The Heaven Realm, a territory folded into the Hyperverse, hummed with highly organized activity.
Hera and Aphrodite, two of the three sovereign Queens of the Empyrean, were coordinating the defense and logistics of the Christian front.
The light of the realm was blinding, and its energy was rigidly structured—a direct contrast to the fluid chaos of the Greek and Norse territories.
Hera, regal and stern, stood before a massive, shimmering tactical map that detailed the deployment of angelic legions and Aether-Dampeners along the frontier.
She was issuing precise, logistical demands to a kneeling host of Archangels.
“I want the supply lines for the Aether-Dampeners tripled within the hour,” Hera commanded, her voice cutting through the ambient hum of divine power. “The flux of non-Euclidean energy is increasing, and those pylons need sustained energy. I want them done as soon as possible, do not delay even for a moment.”
The Archangels nodded and left to follow her orders.
Aphrodite, radiating a comforting, stabilizing aura, stood beside her, offering subtle, necessary advice. “Hera, strengthening the supply lines is one thing, but perhaps a softer touch on the Archangels? They respond well to praise. Acting so cold towards them make them look so pitiful.”
Hera rolled her eyes, but a faint, amused smile touched her lips. “Fine, Aphrodite. You go tell those Archangels that their devotions are appreciated while I ensure the defensive perimeter doesn’t collapse into a four-dimensional knot. I swear, running this place is more complicated than Zeus’s love life.”
“Oh, darling, nothing is more complicated than managing Zeus’s love life,” Aphrodite chuckled, gesturing to a distant projection of a struggling Legion. “Though I will say, the sheer, blind devotion of these angels is fascinating. It’s almost tiringly simple. They just need a firm, loving hand, and a constant reminder that their eternal union with the Lord is dependent on their current efficiency, and they wouldn’t stop working even when they’re tired.”
Hera nodded, “They are even far more devoted than the Underworld Gods are to Hades, and those guys worshipped Hades that they would even lick the ground he walked on.”
Aphrodite chuckled, “Alright, now that’s funny.”
“I’m not joking.” Hera stared at her with a completely serious eyes, “There is even one time where Hades coughed in public, and one goddess inhaled it and used that to get herself pregnant.”
Aphrodite’s eyes widened, “….Holy crap. What happened to that child?”
Hera shrugs, “He became a Spirit of Lung Disease, and joined the Nosoi to serve Keres.”
“Damn. So what did Hades do?”
“Nothing. Not the first time it happened. In fact, most of the Nosoi are his children. But since they don’t have his blood, they didn’t really gain much of a boost like Ilithyia and the others.”
“…The more you know.”
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of Michael, the Archangel, his presence a flash of fierce, disciplined light as he appeared before them.
“Lady Hera, Lady Aphrodite, an urgent report,” Michael announced, bowing with a speed that spoke of immediate concern. “A profound spatial energy is distorting the fabric just at the border of the Heaven Realm, roughly three hundred thousand light years from the main Christian bastion. The signature is unusual—not chaotic like the Outer Ones, but highly potent and distinctly directional. It appears someone is attempting to open a portal into our secured space.”
Hera and Aphrodite instantly locked eyes. An unscheduled, potent dimensional breach could only mean two things: an unexpected, desperate ally or a rough and crude ambush.
Given the Hyperverse’s current state, they couldn’t risk either.
Hera’s demeanor shifted from administrative Queen to frontline General. “Michael, take us there. Now.”
“As you wish, Lady Hera.”
With a silent gesture, the three figures accelerated across the Heaven Realm, arriving at the specified coordinates near the frontier.
The space itself was warping, a visible distortion that twisted the light into impossible spirals, threatening to tear a hole into the protected domain.
And guarding this volatile point were the Seraphs.
These were the highest order of angels, terrifying entities whose true forms were an unsettling collection of interconnected rings, ceaseless flames, and infinite, blazing eyes, defying conventional understanding.
Even in their less overwhelming manifested state, their presence radiated pure, unquantifiable divine force.
Hera found herself momentarily pondering the origin of the Christian concept.
‘Why did Yahweh design his angels into creatures of beyond mortal comprehension?’ she wondered, observing the Seraphs’ strange, powerful geometry. ‘Did he somehow base the highest order off the only truly alien power he ever encountered, the earliest incursions of the Outer Ones?’
Just as the thought passed, the distorted space gave way, and several figures—gods, powerful but weary—were violently ejected into the Heaven Realm.
They were instantly surrounded by the blinding, unyielding pressure of the Seraphim.
The angels’ vast auras pressed down on the strangers, locking them in place with sheer, conceptual divine force.
Their power was overwhelming.
The Seraphs, recently bolstered by the Hyperverse’s systemic stability and the Celtic power infusion, were now collectively more potent than even the un-amplified God Kings like Zeus and Odin had been in their prime.
The pressure was paralyzing, forcing these foreign gods to immediately froze and almost collapse.
“Wait! Wait! We’re not enemies! We seek alliance!” A loud, powerful voice boomed, strained under the angelic containment.
Aphrodite immediately raised her hand, her gentle authority overriding the Seraphs’ aggressive deployment.
The angels, compelled by her divine command and the absolute truth of her authority, instantly stopped applying pressure, though their forms remained vigilant and poised for annihilation.
Hera took a commanding step forward, her chiton shimmering with restrained authority as her divinity were compressed around her.
She assessed the strangers—gods of a different cosmological signature, clearly exhausted and bruised by a recent, terrible battle.
“I am Hera, Goddess of Marriage and Childbirth, one of the three Queens of the Empyrean,” she announced, her voice crisp and clear. “You have breached a secured sanctuary of the Hyperverse. Strangers, identify yourselves and state your purpose, or face annihilation.”
The one who looked like their leader, the god who had shouted the protest, stepped forward, albeit hesitantly, under the heavy gazes of the Seraphs.
He was a powerfully built god, radiating divinity comparable to the Primordial Gods before their ascension.
He bowed low to Hera, a gesture of absolute deference. “Greetings, Lady Hera. I am Tezcatlipoca, a god from the Aztec-Mayan Allied Pantheon. We are here because our universe has fallen to the Outer Ones. We seek refuge and hope to integrate into the Hyperverse.”
He then opened his palm, and a miniature, shimmering golden Aztec pyramid hovered above his skin.
“This,” he declared, his voice thick with the solemn weight of loss, “is the Heart of the Aztec and Mayan Pantheon. For reasons unknown to us, the Aztec, the Mayan, and the now-destroyed Inca Pantheon all shared this single conceptual Heart, though they existed as three separate universes. It is all that remains of our reality.”
Hera’s keen eyes scrutinized the Heart, absorbing the data and the powerful, raw, yet fragile energy it contained was certainly similar to the other Hearts Hades had absorbed.
She turned toward Aphrodite, seeking her co-Queen’s assessment.
The Goddess of Love merely shrugged, a subtle gesture that conveyed: His story checks out, but the decision is yours.
Hera glared briefly at Aphrodite for placing the burden entirely on her before she then turned back to Tezcatlipoca, her decision made.
“Hades, my husband and ruler of this Hyperverse, is currently away, integrating the newly allied Celtic Pantheon,” Hera stated. “However, the Hyperverse is not so cruel as to turn away allies who have fought the Great Chaos. You and your people will be taken to the Empyrean where you may recover until he returns and can execute the fusion.”
Tezcatlipoca breathed a visible, shaking sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping. “Thank you.”
That is more than he could have dared to ask. He actually feared that they would be rejected and would be left to drift into the void to await inevitable destruction.
Hera nodded, accepting his gratitude. She then raised her hand and issued a sharp command.
“Campe!”
With a sound like fracturing dimensions, a spatial crack appeared.
From the fissure emerged a striking, terrifying figure, a beautiful woman with flaming red hair and red eyes, possessing distinct draconic features—claws, subtle scales beneath her skin, and a whip-like tail.
This was Campe, the powerful, monstrous jailer of the Underworld.
She first stared the Aztec-Mayan Gods before turning towards Hera, her brow raised.
Hera pointed toward the new arrivals. “Campe, would you please escort these people and their conceptual core to the Empyrean?”
Campe glared at Hera with a look of pure, unadulterated insubordination. “I am Master Hades’ mount, not a public transport service for distressed foreigners, Hera. You called me here for this? Go escort them yourselves.”
Hera shook her head, unperturbed by the threat in Campe’s voice. “I would, but I am incredibly busy doing Hades’ commands, so I can’t. Besides, I’m not asking you and give them a ride, just escort them.”
Campe let out a low, guttural groan of supreme annoyance, but relented.
She snapped her claws, motioning impatiently toward the Aztecs and Mayans. “Come, then! Don’t dawdle! The fastest route to my master’s realm is through the depths. Follow me.”
Tezcatlipoca watched the draconian woman with wary respect, then looked back at Hera and Aphrodite, offering one last, grateful bow.
He motioned for his people to follow.
Now, moving toward the protection of the Empyrean with their conceptual core secure, the remaining gods of the Aztec-Mayan Pantheon finally allowed themselves the luxury of believing they were truly safe.