The God of Underworld-Chapter 30: The Fall of A Titan

The cosmos itself trembled.

It was a subtle shift at first—a ripple through the fabric of the world. Then, like a great wave crashing upon the shore, the very balance of existence was thrown into chaos.

Something fundamental had changed.

A Titan had fallen.

And not just any Titan—Iapetus, one of the four Pillars.

His Authority, once an immovable force that defined the world, had vanished...no, not vanished, but stolen.

The other Titans felt it.

Iapetus has been stripped of his domain and died.

On mount on Orthys, inside Cronus’ temple.

Cronus’ fingers froze mid-tap against the armrest of his grand throne.

His eyes narrowed, his face darkned as he felt the death of Iapetus and his stolen domain.

For the past three years, the war had been an irritation, a nuisance that he allowed to exist because he found amusement in the struggle of his wayward children.

But now... frёewebηovel.cѳm

Now, he felt it.

The undeniable truth that one of his Pillars had crumbled. The war he treated as nothing more than an entertainment has finally become a threat.

The children he thought of nothing more than a group of cats turned out to be a group of tigers, and they have bit his arm off.

He gripped his scythe, the very air around him twisting under the weight of his growing rage.

"Hades..."

His voice was a whisper, yet it carried through the vast halls of Mount Othrys.

He knew, out of all his children, that his eldest son was the most dangerous. Not only does he have all Underworld gods under his command, his own strength is also nothing to scoff at.

Three years ago, he effortlessly defeated and gravely injured Hyperion, and he would’ve done the same to Atlas and the others had Cronus not intervene.

Although he said it at that time that he got bored of their resistance, truth is he doesn’t want Hades to show his power or the war will surely tip on the Olympians favor.

Cronus let out a slow breath, then stood from his throne, his divine presence expanding, suffocating.

"It seems I have allowed this war to continue for too long."

A flick of his wrist, and a portal of golden mist appeared before him. Without another word, Cronus stepped through, vanishing from sight.

He will win this war, no matter what the cost.

He had fought for this throne he so rightfully deserve, and no one, not even his sons, will take this seat.

****

Far from Cronus’ throne, Atlas stood guard outside the grand temple, his colossal form rigid as the weight of the sky pressed down upon his shoulders.

He felt it.

The shift of power.

The absence of his father.

His grip on his massive club tightened.

Iapetus...

For all his arrogance, his father had been a warrior. Someone feared for his skills and mastery over countless weapons, but mostly spears.

He was one of the Titans who supported Cronus when he raised the flag of rebellion and fight off the Primordial of Sky, Uranus, the previous King of the Cosmos.

Iapetus is a competent, and powerful general.

And now he was gone.

Atlas gritted his teeth. The implications were clear. If the Olympians were strong enough to kill a Pillar, then they were no longer simply rebels.

They were now a legitimate threat.

A threat that must be eradicated.

"I should’ve killed them three years ago!"

But there was no time for regrets now. The Olympians have become such a dangerous force that there is no need to hesitate and just destroy them.

He turned, his booming voice echoing through the halls of Cronus’ fortress.

"Mobilize the legions!"

Titans, gods, and divine spirits alike rushed to obey, scrambling to prepare for war.

They knew, that the real war is about to begin. The war to decide the true king of the cosmos.

****

Inside his temple, Coeus sat in quiet contemplation, eyes closed with his legs cross, surrounded by an endless expanse of ever expanding bookshelves.

But suddenly, the world seems to have trembled, causing Coeus to abruptly open his eyes.

"Iapetus... is dead."

The words left his lips before he could stop them. He had felt it. The connecting they shared as members of the Four Pillars that supported Cronus.

For a moment, he remained still, his mind racing.

This—this is not possible.

He had calculated countless possibilities, such as the Olympians growing in strength. He had foreseen their rebellion lasting years.

He had even calculated a possibilities where a Pillar had fallen.

All which he had already prepared countermeasures.

But he had never calculated a Pillar, much less Iapetus, falling so soon.

Which means something or someone outside of his calculations have decided to intervene, which threw off every possibilities he had thought of.

He couldn’t help but curse. If only Prometheus was more invested in this war than he is now; acting all bored and indifferent.

His foresight would certainly be useful now than just his own prediction base on the limited information they have.

Coeus stood, his divine robes shifting like the night sky.

There was no time to hesitate. If a titan has fallen, then they must hurry up and eliminate the rebellion before they can cause more damage.

With a wave of his hand, he called forth his messengers, divine spirits who bowed before him, awaiting orders.

"Inform the rest of the Pillars. The Olympians must be crushed before the scales tip further in their favor."

The spirits vanished, rushing to carry out his decree.

Coeus turned back to the endless expanse of books, his fingers trailing over a particular book.

He needed to come up with more countermeasures soon.

He doesn’t want to go to a war completely unprepared.

****

Far to the south, in the temple of the stars, Crius stirred.

For the first time in centuries, the constellations trembled, as if a great change occured that disrupted the order of the cosmos.

His connection to the heavens had been severed—no, not severed. Changed.

His brother’s light had been snuffed out.

Crius’ expression darkened.

Though he was not as warlike as Iapetus, though he did not revel in destruction like his kin, he understood what this meant.

The Olympians were no longer an insignificant rebellion.

They were now ’enemies’ of Titans who actually pose a threat and not just annoying children.

With a single movement, Crius raised his staff to the heavens.

The stars above shifted in response.

The cosmos was preparing for war.

****

And then there was Hyperion.

The once-proud Titan still sat upon his golden throne, his form weakened, his wounds from his battle with Hades still not fully healed.

But even in his weakened state—he felt it.

His brother was dead.

A Titan—a Pillar—was gone.

Hyperion let out a slow, ragged breath, his skin glowing faintly.

For a moment, silence filled his temple.

Truthfully, ever since he had fought Hades and was thoroughly humiliated, he had already expected this day would come.

Only he knew the depths of Hades’ power, after all he personally fought him.

His fingers curled into fists, his nails biting into his palms.

Iapetus is his brother, and he should’ve avenged him. But Hyperion wasn’t interested in any of that.

If it was before, then maybe.

But after experiencing the power and skills of Hades, he has been far too afraid to participate in this war.

Yes, he’s a coward.

But he’d rather live as a coward than get banished to Tartarus.

****

Across the cosmos, the Titans and gods who are allied with Cronus began to move.

Legions were summoned. Divine spirits were mobilized. Armies were prepared. They were now going all out to eliminate the rebellion.

The fall of Iapetus was not just a loss.

It was a declaration.

The Titans would no longer tolerate the rebellion.

They would strike with everything they had.

The war had truly begun.

****

Hades stood still as a vast, overwhelming force washed over him.

It started as a whisper—a fragment of something ancient and powerful, slipping into his very essence like a drop of ink into water. Then, in an instant, it became a flood.

A divine force unlike anything he had ever felt surged into his being.

Iapetus’ Authority.

It coiled around his soul like invisible chains, rewriting the very nature of his existence. It was foreign, yet familiar.

He could feel it—the power of Iapetus, the Titan of Mortality.

A domain that governed the very nature of death and finality. The power to sever.

To strike a being once and make them vulnerable. To strike them twice and erase them forever.

Hades exhaled slowly, adjusting to the sudden weight of his newfound dominion.

His body thrummed with energy, as if he had become something more than he was just moments ago.

He flexed his fingers, and for a brief moment, his shadow rippled unnaturally.

The world itself seemed to acknowledge the change.

The mist that covered the temple shifted.

The torches flickered.

Even the very air felt heavier.

It was his now.

All of it.

The Authority of Mortality.

The legacy of Iapetus.

Hades let out a deep chuckle, his crimson eyes gleaming in the dim light of the temple.

In the end, it was almost poetic.

A Titan of Mortality, slain.

His Authority, taken.

And the one who took it? The future ruler of the dead.

Hades glanced down at Iapetus’ lifeless form, his smirk widening.

"You were strong, I’ll give you that."

His voice was smooth, laced with quiet satisfaction.

"I will offer you my respect and gratitude, as a warrior. I will make sure you will enjoy the afterlife."

Hades turned away from the corpse, rolling his shoulders as his divinity stabilized.

He relished the feeling.

Power, truly is, addictive.