The God of Underworld-Chapter 42: Primordial Sky, Underworld

The heavens trembled. The cosmos itself seemed to hold its breath.

Hades and Uranus clashed, their battle shaking the very foundations of existence.

"You are strong, child." Uranus admitted, "Tell me your name."

Hades tilted his head, his brow raised, confused as to why he asked such useless question. But he decided to humor him, this is his "grandfather" after all.

"Hades, God of the Underworld?"

Uranus flinched for a brief moment, "...God of Underworld? Nyx allowed you to call yourself that?"

Hades shrugs, "Must be my charm. I’m simply irresistible."

"...no matter," Uranus raised his hands, "I will end you all the same."

The sky warped under Uranus’ presence, his authority over the Primordial Sky commanding the boundless forces of the universe itself.

"You’re not worthy," Hades attacked.

As they clashed, the stars realigned, the winds shifted, and space itself bent to Uranus’ will.

Yet Hades was relentless.

With every attack, he forced Uranus back, shattering the firmament with each strike. His power, his domain over the underworld, seeped into the battlefield, twisting the very laws of life and death.

But then—Uranus’ eyes burned with newfound resolve.

He knew that if he continued like this, losing was inevitable.

"Enough," he said, his voice resonating across all of creation. "...Godling, no, God of Underworld. I acknowledge your power. Now, I shall show you the true power of the Primordial Sky!"

The sky darkened, an unfathomable presence weighing down upon existence itself.

The stars flickered, dimming as though cowering before their progenitor. The winds howled, obeying his silent command.

The fabric of reality twisted as Uranus’ true power awakened.

"I am the primordial sky, the boundless firmament," he intoned, his voice merging with the heavens. "All forces in the cosmos—heed my call!"

The universe obeyed.

Galaxies spiraled around him, their orbits bending to his will. Gravity itself turned against Hades, trying to pull him apart.

The air thickened, constricting like an invisible chain. Light wove itself into spears, piercing through the battlefield. The very concept of sky became a weapon.

For the first time in the battle, Hades faltered.

The crushing weight of Uranus’ absolute authority bore down upon him. He clenched his teeth, his godly form trembling under the strain.

’So this is...the primordial sky...’

Hades also possessed this authority. However, no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t yet command it to his will, so he never really used it.

Perhaps because the primordial sky itself still acknowledged Uranus as its master, and deemed him to be unworthy.

Uranus’ lips curled into a smirk. "You have power, Hades, but I am the heavens themselves. Your domain, your very existence, is but a speck beneath me."

Hades glared at him, his eyes burning with unyielding will.

"Is that so? Then let me see how high the heavens is!"

He raised his hand, and the cosmos shuddered.

A weapon materialized—a pitch-black, barbed spear radiating an ominous aura. The mere presence of it distorted reality around them, showing how it was no ordinary weapon.

Desmos.

A weapon forged by the Cyclops, a divine spear that could reverse cause and effect, and a curse that devours the life of whoever it was hit.

Uranus’ eyes narrowed. "That spear..."

Hades gripped Desmos tightly, its presence warping fate itself.

"You like it? You are the second opponent who have witnessed this weapon, so be honored."

With that, he attacked.

Desmos tore through space, its tip aimed straight for Uranus. The moment it was thrown, time seemed to twist—reality itself struggling to keep up with its existence.

Uranus commanded the cosmos to stop it. Stars aligned, the winds howled, gravity reversed—but none of it mattered.

Because Desmos did not follow the laws of the universe.

It had already struck its target before it was thrown.

Uranus barely managed to dodge, but even as he evaded, wounds appeared on his body. Blood spilled into the heavens. The cause had already been set—the effect was merely catching up.

Uranus grimaced. "You reversed causality..."

Hades smirked. "Didn’t see that one in your grand vision of the cosmos, did you?"

Just then, Uranus noticed the dark curse eating away his life, coming from the wound caused by the spear.

"A curse huh," Uranus simply flicked it away, breaking the curse.

Hades raised an eyebrow, surprised that he can just casually shrug off a curse of that level.

Uranus’ gaze darkened. "Such a powerful curse, if it was anyone else, then they would’ve been helpless... but I am not so easily defeated."

The sky roared.

He raised his hand, and the cosmos answered.

The heavens split open, revealing an endless abyss of celestial power. The sheer energy of the universe’s birth erupted from the tear in reality, a force that predated gods themselves.

At this moment, the Primordial Sky unleashed its full might.

Then, Uranus struck. A beam of light erupted from his hands with a force so great it was as if a new universe was created.

Hades didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, Desmos in hand, calling forth the power of the depths of the world.

He released a dark purple beam of power that clashed with Uranus’ attack.

The heavens and the underworld collided.

Their contact sent shockwaves through existence. Entire constellations were erased and reborn in an instant. Space cracked like shattered glass.

Uranus bent the forces of the universe itself, trying to ensnare Hades in absolute inevitability—but Hades was fighting back, as if the underworld itself is defying the will of heaven.

Then, the two equally powerful opposing power exploded, sending fissures in reality, causing space itself to get shredded like a piece of paper in a blender.

Then, Hades launched himself to Uranus, his spear on hand, intending to fight him in close combat.

Uranus wasn’t one to be undone, summoning a sword made of the forces in cosmos, he clashed with Hades!

Hades fought with precision, each strike a death sentence before it was even made.

Uranus countered with overwhelming force, bending all of creation to shield himself.

Their battle transcended realms. It was no longer a mere fight—it was a battle of existence itself.

One would stand.

One would fall.

And the cosmos would never be the same.

"Honestly, I’m surprised." Hades admitted, "I didn’t take you for someone who can fight with weapons."

"I existed before time, what do you think?"

"I’m curious about your skills."

With that, Hades lunged forward, Desmos gleaming with its eerie, reality-defying power. Every thrust bent fate, every swing rewrote causality.

But Uranus, the primordial sky incarnate, would not fall so easily.

"Why would I fight you with weapons when my domain is far superior!?"

With a mere gesture, the cosmos obeyed his will. Gravity twisted violently, space folded over itself, and time froze and shattered in endless loops.

Celestial storms raged, burning with primordial fury.

"You are indeed strong, stronger than any other Primordials," Uranus admitted, his voice merging with the sky itself. "But... I was once the King of Cosmos."

With that, he lifted his hand.

The heavens collapsed.

The weight of the sky—the sheer force of all existence above—descended upon Hades like a mountain crashing down from eternity.

The pressure was suffocating, as if the entirety of creation was trying to crush him into oblivion.

Hades’ knees bent. His bones groaned under the infinite pressure. But he grinned.

"You know why Underworld is below the sky?" He asked, rhetorically, "Because the sky needed something to hold it up."

Darkness erupted beneath him.

The abyss of the underworld, the primordial force of death itself, rose like a tidal wave, crashing against the sky.

Infinity split in half—one side an endless, crushing firmament, the other a yawning, consuming abyss.

The two fundamental forces clashed.

Hades forced himself upright, Desmos humming with ancient power.

"Strike and pierce, DESMOS!"

He lunged, aiming straight for Uranus’ heart. The spear had already struck its target before Uranus could react...

...or so it seemed.

Uranus exhaled.

The stars shifted.

Hades suddenly found himself ten steps behind where he had just been. His attack had never happened. His reality had been rewritten.

"You control death," Uranus said, his voice calm, ancient. "I control everything before it."

Hades narrowed his eyes.

This was dangerous.

Desmos could alter causality, but Uranus’ authority rewrote the state of existence itself. He had undone Hades’ attack before it was even conceived.

"You’re proving to be more troublesome than I thought," Hades muttered, tightening his grip on his spear.

Uranus smirked. "Flattery will not save you."

Then, he raised both arms.

The cosmos collapsed and expanded in a single moment.

Planets were born and died.

Galaxies erased themselves from history.

Reality wavered.

And then—a single, massive celestial blade formed in Uranus’ grasp, forged from the very fabric of the sky itself. A weapon of creation, meant to cut down destruction itself.

Hades exhaled sharply. "Now that... might actually kill me."

Uranus swung.

A divine slash tore through space, carving a wound into the heavens. The force of the swing alone ripped apart the battlefield. The underworld’s abyss howled in protest, resisting annihilation itself.

Hades had no time to dodge.

Instead, he met the attack head-on.

Desmos thrust forward.

The moment the celestial blade and Desmos met, time and reality ruptured.

A paradox unfolded—cause and effect reversed, rewritten, erased, and restored simultaneously.

Hades vanished.

For a brief moment, Uranus felt victory.

But then...

A deep, mocking chuckle echoed behind him.

Uranus turned, eyes widening.

Hades stood where the celestial blade had first been formed.

Desmos had rewritten reality once again.

Instead of Uranus cutting him down, the cause had been reversed—Hades had transported himself back to the moment before the attack was even created.

And in that instant, Desmos was already inside Uranus’ chest.

The sky god gasped, his divine ichor spilling into the void. The cosmos staggered.

Uranus gritted his teeth, glaring at the spear embedded in his form. "You..."

Hades exhaled, his expression victorious. "That’s checkmate, old man."

But Uranus.... he grinned.

"You think so?"

And the sky collapsed upon itself.

The moment Uranus was struck, the heavens themselves retaliated. The very fabric of creation lashed out, obeying its master.

Hades barely had a moment to react before he was engulfed in an infinite storm of destruction.

"Farewell, son of Cronus."