The God of Underworld-Chapter 41: The End Of Time

"...so, did that do him?" Zeus questioned.

"...you know, now that you said that, he’s going to come out alive right?" Said Poseidon.

"Is that how it works?"

"Yes."

True to his words, the earth rumbled as from the depths of the burning chaos, he emerged.

It was Cronus.

His form was ruined.

Skin, muscles, even his divine essence had been corroded, burned away. The fire of pre-creation had ravaged him.

His once majestic golden body was now a charred ruin, blackened and crumbling.

His skull was partially exposed, his ribs visible beneath the torn remains of his divine flesh.

But his eyes...

His eyes still burned with power.

He was alive.

"I told you so!"

"Shut up!"

Zeus and Poseidon did not hesitate. Despite their bickering, they moved faster than light.

This was their chance. Cronus was gravely injured, and now it is possible to kill him.

Lightning roared in the sky, and the sea howled in fury.

Zeus raised his bolt.

Poseidon’s trident spun in his hands.

The air trembled as they lunged forward, weapons glowing with divine destruction.

"DIE! CRONUS!

But—

"STOP!!"

Hecate’s voice pierced the battlefield like a dagger.

A voice filled with panic.

Zeus and Poseidon flinched. For a single, crucial moment, their instincts screamed at them, and without hesitation, they retreated.

And just in time.

A single pulse erupted from Cronus’ body.

A pulse of pure, undiluted authority.

The very concept of time shattered.

The ground crumbled, not into dust, but into non-existence.

The air withered.

Mount Orthys shook as reality itself was unmade.

The place where Zeus and Poseidon had stood a moment ago...was erased.

The very matter of the world had decayed to its most primal form—returning to the void before creation.

Zeus and Poseidon stared in horror.

And before their eyes...

Cronus’ ruined body... was healing.

Instantly.

Skin, flesh, and divine essence regenerated at terrifying speed. The exposed skull vanished, the burned muscles reformed.

In mere seconds, Cronus stood before them, fully healed.

And his power seems to have become even stronger than before.

He stared at them, and laughed.

A deep, resonant chuckle that echoed across the battlefield.

He rolled his shoulders, flexing his restored body, as he let out a smirk.

"That was close." His eyes gleamed with amusement as he lifted his scythe. "If I were anyone else, that attack would have erased me entirely."

He turned his gaze toward Hecate.

"You impress me, Witch of the Crossroads."

Hecate’s breath was ragged.

Her hands trembled.

What... What had she just witnessed?

That magic wasn’t supposed to be something anyone can survive, much less heal from. It reduces their very being before existence itself!

So why, why is he alive, and why has he gotten so much stronger!?

Zeus and Poseidon’s eyes narrowed.

"...What did you do?" Zeus demanded.

Cronus chuckled.

Then, he tilted his head.

"Simple." His voice was laced with mockery. "I destroyed the future where I died, and selected a parallel timeline where I survived."

A silence fell over the battlefield.

Zeus, Poseidon, and Hecate stiffened.

Their minds raced.

Their expressions darkened.

Deatroyed...the future? Select a timeline where he survived?

That... shouldn’t be possible.

Hecate was the goddess of magic.

Poseidon ruled the seas.

Zeus commanded the sky.

And yet, none of them could comprehend what Cronus had just done.

A technique beyond logic.

Beyond cause and effect.

Something beyond the "Fates". An ability to interfere with destiny, something not even the strongest of gods could escape.

Cronus smirked at their expressions.

"Ah, I see. You don’t understand."

He raised his scythe—his divine weapon, the symbol of his absolute rule over time.

"Then allow me to enlighten you." His golden aura expanded, warping the space around him. "You see, I am Time itself. I do not exist as a mere moment. I exist in the past, the present, and all possible futures—all at once."

He gestured at his perfectly healed body.

"That means I can reach into my own future... and alter it to whatever I desire."

Zeus gritted his teeth.

Poseidon’s grip on his trident tightened.

Hecate felt cold sweat run down her back.

Cronus smiled wider.

"Every timeline where you won...I will destroy it, and create a new one where I emerge victorious!"

Hearing those words, despair loomed over Hecate, Zeus, and Poseidon.

How could they defeat someone who could see the future, and alter it to whatever he desires?!

Do they even have a chance to win?

At that moment, when despair was about to root itself in their hearts, five immense auras descended upon the battlefield.

The air shifted, the earth groaned, and even the warped flow of time seemed to momentarily pause.

Then, five figures landed besides the Hecate, Zeus, and Poseidon.

They are the five underworld river gods!

Phlegethon, the River of Fire, his presence a raging inferno, the heat of his soul capable of melting divine steel.

Cocytus, the River of Wailing, whose essence carried the sorrow of every soul who had ever suffered.

Acheron, the River of Pain, his aura a crushing weight that brought even gods to their knees.

Lethe, the River of Forgetfulness, an existence so eerie that her mere presence threatened to erase thoughts and memories.

Styx, the River of Oaths, her divine presence an embodiment of unbreakable bonds and divine law.

Cronus smirked, eyes gleaming with amusement as the river gods arrived, "Ah... I foresaw this as well."

Phlegethon’s flames roared. "The hell do you mean you foresaw this?"

It was Hecate who answered, her fists clenched. "...Be careful. He can see and alter the future."

The five river gods stiffened, their eyes widening.

Cronus let out a low chuckle. "So, even the great rivers of the Underworld tremble before time?"

Before they could react, he twirled his scythe, then, he vanished, reappearing in front of Acheron in an instant.

His scythe swung downward—a strike not aimed at the present, but at the moment at the past, where Acheron had already been struck.

Even if he dodged, he will still get cut.

Acheron knew this, so he didn’t bother trying to defend. Instead, he decided to counter.

His aura exploded outward, a tidal wave of suffering and agony that clashed with Cronus’ authority.

The air trembled as their powers warred.

But in the end, Acheron paled in comparison to Cronus, and was being overwhelmed.

Then, just as Acheron was about to be defeated, Phlegethon roared.

A pillar of flames erupted beneath Cronus, engulfing him in fire hot enough to turn gods to ash.

But Cronus did not burn.

He had already seen this outcome and altered, creating a future where he was not harmed.

Just like that, the fire vanished before it could consume him.

"Futile."

With a golden blur, Cronus appeared behind Phlegethon, scythe already swinging.

However, a fraction of a second before the attack landed, Lethe whispered.

Her voice was echoing through the abyss, and a shroud of nothingness descended over Cronus.

The Titan of Time faltered.

For the first time in countless eons, his mind went blank.

Forgot what he was doing.

Forgot his own attack.

Forgot where he stood.

Immediately, the Titan King stumbled.

And in that instant, Cocytus struck. The River of Wailing raised his hand, and a wave of sorrow and suffering surged forward, a tide of divine torment so overwhelming that even Cronus staggered under its weight.

For a moment, just a moment—the Titan King felt pain.

His eyes flickered.

Just then, Styx moved.

Runic symbols emerged from the ground, binding the Titan King, sealing his movements.

"Zeus! Poseidon!" Hecate called out, not wanting to waste this opportunity.

At her call, Zeus and Poseidon did not hesitate and prepared their strongest attack.

The heavens screamed.

The sea roared.

Zeus’ power that he had learned from Astraeus, the Solar Storm, crashed down on Cronus from above, while Poseidon’s trident summoned a primordial flood of crushing force.

A direct hit.

The explosion shook the very foundation of Mount Othrys.

The sky turned white with the force of the impact.

The battlefield trembled.

The Five Underworld Gods, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hecate all observed.... And despair immediately came crashing down on their souls.

Cronus...

Still stood.

His body was burned, broken, and bruised. But he was not defeated.

His eyes narrowed.

And then, he smiled.

His form shimmered, and in an instant, his injuries vanished.

His wounds had never happened.

Because in this timeline he had altered, he was never injured.

He had rewritten his own fate.

"I underestimated you lot." Cronus chuckled, twirling his scythe.

The Five River Gods immediately braced themselves.

Hecate, Zeus, and Poseidon quickly stood their ground.

There is no time for despair. They must win! No matter what!

Cronus smirked.

"Very well. Let us continue."

Zeus gritted his teeth before he let out a roar, his authority causing the sky to darken as he sent a hail of lightning.

Poseidon and the others followed suit, attacking Cronus with all their might!

The air trembled under the weight of clashing divinities.

Lightning flashed across the battlefield, illuminating the war-torn land with blinding brilliance.

The ocean roared, its waves crashing violently against the fractured ground. Fire raged like an unchained beast, consuming everything in its path.

Their combined powers were enough to shake the very foundation of the cosmos.

Yet, Cronus—smirked. He had seen this all, and just as he had seen, he will always win.

Hecate’s eyes flickered.

She turned her gaze toward Lethe and Styx.

A silent conversation took place.

A mere exchange of glances.

They understood.

No words were needed.

In the midst of the battle, with Cronus pressing forward with overwhelming force, they initiated their plan.

Zeus’ divine lightning fell like an endless storm, each bolt carrying enough power to annihilate lesser gods.

Poseidon’s trident sliced through the air, summoning tidal waves that crashed against Cronus like mountains collapsing.

Cocytus unleashed a wave of sorrow, the suffering of countless souls concentrated into a single devastating force.

Acheron’s power of pain struck like an invisible fist, pressing down upon Cronus with the weight of millennia of suffering.

Phlegethon’s flames of judgment erupted, a torrent of divine fire intent on consuming the Titan King.

And yet, Cronus deflected them all.

His scythe cut through their attacks like they were mere illusions.

Time bent around him.

It was as if every strike against him had already failed before it was even made.

But Hecate was watching.

Waiting.

Then, the moment came.

Lethe moved first.

With an eerie whisper, she called upon her authority—the power to erase memories.

A shroud of forgetfulness enveloped Cronus.

For the briefest of moments, the Titan King forgot about Styx.

A fraction of a second.

But that was all they needed.

Styx acted.

Her power—the authority of unbreakable oaths and divine curses—wrapped around Cronus like chains forged from the very fabric of the cosmos.

She imposed a restriction upon him.

For the first time, Cronus’ authority over time was sealed.

It was only for an instant.

But that instant was all they needed.

"NOW!"

Hecate’s voice rang out.

Zeus descended like a storm, his divine lightning forming a spear of pure destruction.

Poseidon thrust his trident, summoning an oceanic vortex that could drown the heavens themselves.

Cocytus unleashed a wail of despair, his power tearing through existence itself.

Acheron’s pain-infused strike crashed down with the force of every agony the universe had ever known.

Phlegethon’s flames erupted, hotter than the core of the earth, seeking to burn Cronus down to nothingness.

The sky turned black.

The earth shattered.

Mount Othrys quaked as if the world itself was breaking.

It was truly a strike that could’ve destroyed the cosmos.

And yet...

And yet Cronus still stood there.

Untouched.

Not a single scratch on him.

Their most powerful combined attack had failed.

"You are all naive." Cronus’ voice was calm, almost amused.

The gods and river deities stared in shock.

How?

HOW?!

Hecate’s mind raced.

Had Styx’s curse not worked? Had Lethe’s power failed?

Cronus smirked. "Did you truly believe I would not foresee this?"

Their blood ran cold.

"I knew Lethe would make me forget.

I knew Styx would attempt to bind me.

I knew you would all attack me at that exact moment."

Their eyes widened in horror.

He had already rewritten fate itself.

Before their plan had even begun—he had already changed his own future.

The attacks they thought would land had already been erased from history.

He never needed to defend.

Because in the future he had foreseen, he had never been harmed to begin with.

Hecate clenched her fists. "This is... absurd."

"Hahahaha!"

Cronus’ laughter echoed across the battlefield, a chilling sound that carried the weight of absolute certainty.

"You have fought well," he said, his voice cold and measured. "But this is where your struggle ends."

He raised his scythe, and the air around them distorted. The very fabric of time trembled beneath his will. The gods felt their futures unraveling—twisting, breaking.

And then—the slaughter began.

Cronus moved faster than thought, faster than fate itself.

A blur. A shadow of death.

He appeared before Acheron first, his scythe already slicing through the god’s chest before he could react. Acheron gasped as golden ichor spurted from his mouth.

"Suffering?" Cronus whispered. "Let me teach you the true meaning of pain."

With a vicious pull, he tore Acheron apart, limb by limb, ripping through divine flesh as if it were parchment.

Cocytus was next.

The god of lament let out a furious scream, ice encasing his hands as he lunged at Cronus, trying to freeze the Titan’s very essence.

Cronus merely smiled.

With a flick of his scythe, Cocytus’ body shattered into countless frozen fragments, his divine soul breaking apart like fragile glass.

Phlegethon burned hotter than ever, his entire being becoming a raging inferno. The flames of judgment raged across the battlefield, consuming everything in their path.

But Cronus simply stepped forward, unharmed.

And then, with a casual sweep of his hand, he extinguished Phlegethon’s fire—erasing it from existence.

The river of fire collapsed, his flames snuffed out like a dying ember.

Lethe and Styx tried to retreat.

But it was useless.

Cronus appeared behind them.

Before they could even react, he drove his arm through Lethe’s back, his hand emerging from her chest. The goddess gasped, her authority dissolving into nothingness as Cronus crushed her heart in his grip.

Styx glared at him as she launched forward, her divine power surging, attempting to bind him once more.

But Cronus only chuckled.

With one effortless motion, he swung his scythe—and beheaded her.

The river gods were gone.

Their bodies lay broken, lifeless.

Their divine essence fading into the abyss.

Zeus and Poseidon stood frozen, horror gripping them as they watched their allies fall one by one.

Cronus turned to them, his face a mask of cruel amusement.

"And now, my dear sons—" he said, stepping toward them. "It’s time to put an end to this rebellion."

Zeus roared in defiance, hurling his thunderbolt with all his might. A spear of divine lightning tore through the battlefield, illuminating the sky with godly fury.

Poseidon followed suit, summoning a colossal tsunami, his trident guiding the crushing waves toward Cronus.

But it was meaningless.

Cronus swung his scythe.

Reality itself broke apart.

Zeus’ thunderbolt shattered in midair, its energy dissipating into nothingness.

Poseidon’s trident cracked, then snapped in two, its power severed from its master.

Zeus and Poseidon barely had time to register what had happened—

Before Cronus appeared between them.

With one precise motion, he drove his scythe through Zeus’ chest.

Blood erupted from the king of the gods’ mouth as he looked down in disbelief.

And then—Cronus ripped him in half.

Poseidon’s eyes widened in horror.

"NO—!"

Before he could react, Cronus’ scythe whipped through the air, and the sea god felt his body being torn apart, his divine form split into two halves.

Their severed bodies collapsed, lifeless.

The battlefield fell silent.

Cronus turned to the last remaining god.

Hecate.

The witch goddess stood alone, surrounded by the corpses of her allies.

Cronus thought she would looked devastated, helpless! But she looks so calm. As if she haven’t witnessed her allies getting torn apart by him.

And then, she let out a smile.

Cronus narrowed his eyes.

"You smile?" he asked, tilting his head. "Even now?"

Hecate chuckled softly.

"I was simply waiting," she whispered. "For this moment."

Before Cronus could react, his entire body froze.

A surge of unbreakable power enveloped him—his authority, his control over time, was suddenly gone.

His eyes widened.

"What—?"

And then, before he could even process what had happened, a burst of divine energy exploded from behind him.

Zeus.

Poseidon.

Alive.

And their weapons—whole.

’Illusions!? Were the ones I killed mere illusions!?’

With all their might, they drove their divine weapons straight through Cronus’ chest.

"Urgh—!?"

Pain.

For the first time in eons—Cronus felt intense pain.

Zeus’ thunderbolt burned his insides, crackling with divine power.

Poseidon’s trident pierced through his back, its godly waters rushing through his veins like poison.

And then...

Acheron rose from the ground, his body completely unharmed, his authority of suffering surging forward.

He intensified Cronus’ pain.

Cocytus, perfectly safe, let out a wail of anguish, his frozen hands grabbing onto Cronus’ soul, freezing it from within.

Phlegethon’s flames ignited once more, consuming Cronus’ flesh.

The Titan King gasped.

This—this was not what he had foreseen.

This was not supposed to happen.

His power flickered.

His vision blurred.

How?

How had he not seen this?

His gaze locked onto Hecate.

"You—What did you do!?"

She grinned.

"You have been fighting an illusion, Cronus." she whispered. "Ever since the River Gods appeared, you have already fallen into my trap."

Cronus bared his teeth. "I see every infinite timeline. There is no path, no possible outcome where I fall to a mere illusion!"

Hecate chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You’re right."

Cronus’ body tensed.

"Which is why," she continued, "I put you under an illusion in every single one."

A silence, vast and unrelenting, swallowed the battlefield.

Cronus’ breath caught in his throat.

"What?"

Hecate took a step closer, her presence exuding the undeniable weight of inevitability.

"The moment you laid eyes on me," she said, her voice like silk woven through fate itself, "I cast a spell that wove its way across time itself. A magic that ensures whomever looks at me will fall under an illusion. Across all timelines. Across all futures. Across all possibilities."

She gestured to the battlefield, to the gods standing before him, to his own ruined body.

"You never saw the truth."

Cronus’ hands clenched into fists. "Lies!" His voice cracked through the air like a broken storm. "Even if you deceived me, I could’ve seen through it! My power would’ve destroyed every futures where I’m under an illusion!"

Hecate merely smiled.

"You’re correct again."

Cronus narrowed his eyes.

"So I ensured you forgot."

A chill ran down Cronus’ spine. Something was wrong.

His mind—his memories—they wavered.

"What did you do?" he whispered.

Hecate’s eyes gleamed with knowing.

"As the goddess of crossroads, I stand at the intersection of fate. I can interact with it, change it in subtle ways. I asked Lethe to make you forget just one timeline."

Cronus felt something shift within him, a deep, yawning emptiness where a piece of his power should have been.

"What timeline?" he demanded.

Hecate exhaled, the air around her rippling as she spoke the words that sealed his fate:

"The timeline I was trying to reach."

Cronus’ mind raced.

No. No, that was impossible.

Yet—why couldn’t he remember?

The one thread in time he had failed to see. The one possibility that had slipped from his grasp.

His own future.

The future where he lost.

The future where he was killed.

His heart pounded, the weight of realization crashing down upon him like an unrelenting tide.

Hecate raised her hand.

"And then," she whispered, "I made sure you could never alter it."

Dark energy crackled through the battlefield as the binding placed on him glowed.

Styx.

The river goddess, her eyes burning with unshakable resolve, extended her hand.

The weight of divine law pressed down upon him, smothering his once-unstoppable might.

And then—Hecate spoke the final words that shattered him completely.

"This is no longer the future, Cronus."

She leaned in, her voice barely a whisper—but absolute.

"This is the present. And your ability to alter the future, no longer applies here."

Cronus gasped.

The truth hit him like a falling star.

The gods. The battlefield. His own ruined body.

This was not some illusion, not some trick of fate he could rewrite.

This was reality.

And he had already lost.

"Finish him." Hecate declared.

Zeus and Poseidon roared as they pushed their divine weapons and ripped him in half.

Golden ichor spewed out, staining the gods with the blood of the once mighty Titan King.