The God of Underworld-Chapter 29: Desmos

The battlefield trembled as two titanic forces collided.

Hades and Iapetus moved like shadows and lightning, spears clashing in bursts of sparks that tore apart the temple walls around them.

Each strike sent shockwaves rippling through the mist-filled chamber, cracking the ground and causing ancient pillars to crumble into dust.

Iapetus, the Titan of Mortality, was a warrior who had stood at the dawn of time. His every movement was precise, brutal, and absolute.

His spear cut through the air with a terrifying sharpness, slicing through space itself.

Hades met him head-on, weaving through the titan’s attacks with effortless grace, his own spear a weapon of pure abyssal darkness.

The two warriors fought without hesitation—not as gods, but as killers.

Iapetus’ spear lashed out in a deadly arc. Hades ducked, the tip grazing the air where his throat had been a second before.

He countered immediately, his spear surging forward, wreathed in darkness.

Iapetus barely twisted out of the way. The shockwave alone sent him skidding back.

He smirked.

"Not bad, King of the Dead," he said, rolling his shoulders. "But you do realize, don’t you? Even a god like you can die by my hands."

Hades remained silent, his expression unreadable. His grip on his spear tightened.

Iapetus grinned wider.

"I am thr Titan Of Mortality. Just one hit. One hit." He raised his weapon, the air around it shimmering with an eerie glow. "If I strike you once, your immortality shatters. If I strike you twice, you die. Forever."

Hades’ gaze darkened.

He had known of Iapetus’ authority. The Titan was death incarnate—not of the natural, gradual kind, but of the brutal, irreversible end.

His spear did not merely wound. It imposed absolute mortality upon his target, stripping away any chance for survival and resurrection.

A lesser god would have hesitated. A lesser god would have feared.

Hades only stepped forward.

"Try it."

And with that, they clashed again.

The impact of their battle sent shockwaves through the planet.

From the outside, the entire temple seemed to writhe in agony. The very foundations cracked, and the mist covering the battlefield turned into a raging storm.

Massive stone pillars crumbled into dust as their divine power clashed, shattering reality itself within the temple walls.

Far away, the rebel gods could feel it. Hecate, Campe, and the others paused in their victory, turning their gazes toward the ruined temple where Hades fought alone.

Hecate narrowed her eyes.

"That fool..." she muttered.

Campe, still covered in the ichor of fallen enemies, let out a sharp laugh. "He’s enjoying himself."

The gods exchanged glances. Some wanted to rush in. Others knew better.

A battle of this scale was beyond interference.

Inside the temple, Hades dodged another lethal strike by a hair’s breadth.

The spear whistled past his ribs, and the moment it did, he felt it—the tearing sensation of his divine essence unraveling just from being near the attack.

Iapetus wasn’t bluffing.

Hades leaped back, landing lightly on a fractured column. He exhaled.

"So this is the power of the Titan of Mortality."

Iapetus smirked, spinning his spear before planting it into the ground. The earth beneath them split open in deep, jagged cracks.

"What’s the matter?" Iapetus taunted. "Starting to regret facing me alone?"

Hades scoffed. "Hardly." free𝑤ebnovel.com

Without warning, he surged forward.

Iapetus barely had time to react. Hades was fast. Too fast. His movements were impossibly smooth, as if he were slipping through the gaps of the world itself.

His spear lashed out, and Iapetus barely raised his weapon in time to block.

A second too late—

The tip of Hades’ spear carved across the titan’s cheek, drawing golden ichor.

Iapetus’ eyes widened slightly.

Hades did not stop. He pressed forward, spear moving like a serpent, each thrust and slash a perfect balance of aggression and precision.

Iapetus gritted his teeth, barely managing to block each attack.

Then, Hades shifted.

In an instant, he was behind him.

Reacting quickly, Iapetus spun—and Hades jerked back just in time as Iapetus’ spear nearly grazed his chest.

The tip whistled past him, carving into the air—and Hades felt it.

The searing pain of his own divine essence unraveling.

His eyes widened slightly.

Iapetus grinned.

"One hit."

The wound wasn’t deep. But it didn’t need to be. The authority had taken effect.

Hades was now mortal.

The realization hit him as the temple rumbled violently. His power remained intact, but his body was now just like any other warrior’s.

He could die.

And Iapetus only needed one more strike to ensure that he did.

The Titan smirked. "Well, that evens things up, doesn’t it?"

Hades was silent.

For a long moment, the two warriors simply stared at one another.

Then—

Both of them took a step back.

A mutual understanding passed between them.

Hades rolled his shoulders, his spear vanishing back into the shadows. His expression remained unreadable, but the air around him had shifted.

Iapetus smiled, his eyes gleaming.

"No more playing around, then?"

Hades exhaled.

"No more playing around."

The ground beneath them began to crack apart.

The mist thickened, turning black. The very air shuddered under the weight of something far more terrifying than before.

And then—

They unleashed their divine power.

The entire world shook.

Hades exhaled slowly.

In his right hand, a spear formed from the void itself began to materialize.

Its shaft was as dark as the abyss, pitch black and jagged, with barbs running along its length.

The tip pulsed with something deeper than magic, deeper than divine power—something that did not belong in this world.

It was spear crafted to him by the cyclops.

Desmos.

Iapetus stilled. His eyes sharpened, narrowing in recognition of what this was.

Death.

That spear was dangerous.

He could feel it in his very essence. It was not a mere weapon—it was a concept made real. A force that did not simply kill, but erased.

Hades lifted the spear, letting the darkness of the Underworld coil around it like living shadows. His voice was calm, steady.

"Iapetus, you are the first opponent worthy enough to witness this spear. Be honored."

Iapetus smirked. "I’m flattered."

Without another word, they moved.

The world shattered beneath their speed.

One moment, they stood apart. The next—their spears clashed.

The force of their collision sent shockwaves rippling through space, tearing through earth and sending walls crumbling into dust. The air itself twisted violently, forming a storm of pure chaos.

Iapetus struck first. His spear blurred forward, aiming for Hades’ throat.

Hades tilted his head—just barely. The tip of Iapetus’ spear skimmed past his skin, cutting through strands of his silver hair.

Hades retaliated. Desmos lashed out in response, its barbed tip cutting through space itself.

Iapetus twisted his body, dodging by a hair’s breadth, but the aftershock of the attack sent cracks racing through the temple floor.

It was a dance of death.

Every strike from Iapetus carried absolute lethality—having already been hit once, just one more hit woule ensure his death.

But Desmos was something beyond mere destruction.

Hades knew that if even a scratch landed, the spear’s curse would take effect. And once its name was called, fate itself would be undone.

Neither could afford to take a single hit.

Iapetus lunged. His spear blurred forward, its speed breaking the sound barrier.

Hades sidestepped, his body a blur of motion—then countered.

Desmos came down in a brutal arc.

Iapetus brought his weapon up to block—

But the moment Desmos made contact—

The world twisted.

A deep, unnatural distortion spread from the impact point, as if reality itself was being rewritten. A black curse surged outward, seeking to consume anything in its path.

Iapetus jumped back immediately, his instincts screaming at him.

His spear—one forged at the dawn of time—was corroding.

For the first time, Iapetus frowned.

"That spear—"

Hades smirked.

"Desmos is no ordinary weapon."

The shadows around him deepened, swirling like living entities.

"Once its name has been called, Desmos will show its true power."

Iapetus’ eyes sharpened. His grip on his weapon tightened.

"What is it?"

Hades exhaled.

"A cursed spear that strikes destiny and aims for the heart, a spear that reverses causality."

The words resounded through the Underworld.

Iapetus’ expression finally shifted.

He understood now.

The spear did not simply strike a target. It struck destiny itself.

A weapon that ensured its attack had already landed before it was even thrown.

It was a cursed spear that devoured any who had been pierced by darkness.

A weapon that "struck" before it was "aimed."

The striking stance was merely a formality as the spear had already pierced the target.

Hades raised Desmos.

The world went still.

"Strike and pierce, Desmos!"

The moment the name was spoken, the spear became something more.

The moment it was aimed, it had already pierced.

Iapetus barely had time to react, or rather, Iapetus doesn’t have any chance to react.

Darkness surged forward.

His instincts screamed at him to move. He twisted his body, his spear lashing out in defense—

But Desmos had already struck.

The black spear pierced his chest.

Straight through the heart.

The Titan froze.

Time itself seemed to stop.

There was no pain. No sound.

Only a terrible, inescapable certainty.

Iapetus slowly looked down. Golden ichor dripped from his lips.

His hands trembled as he reached for the spear impaling him—but his fingers passed through it like smoke.

The wound was already done. The future had already been written.

Iapetus chuckled, his voice rough.

"So... this is how I die."

Hades stood before him, expression unreadable.

Iapetus exhaled.

"Good... Good. I’m glad."

Hades’ eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Iapetus smiled, his golden eyes dimming.

"Because I die by a warrior’s hands."

There was something genuine in his voice.

Hades stared at him for a long moment.

Then, slowly, he stepped forward.

Desmos vanished from Iapetus’ chest, its work complete.

The Titan swayed, his body already fading.

Hades raised his hand, fingers curling into the empty air.

His voice was steady.

"I will now take your Authority."

Iapetus chuckled, "Very well. Take it."

The moment those words were spoken—

Hades brought down his hand.