The God of Underworld-Chapter 46 - 1: A New Beginning

Mount Othrys, once the seat of the Titans’ rule, lay in ruins. The once-proud temple of Cronus was now reduced to rubble, the remnants of an era that had finally come to an end.

Yet beneath its fallen columns and shattered statues, laughter, music, and celebration filled the air.

The Olympians had won.

For three days and three nights, they feasted, drank, and danced, reveling in their hard-earned victory. Divine wine flowed like rivers, filling golden goblets that never emptied.

Hestia’s sacred flames burned bright, casting a warm glow over the gods and their allies as they sang songs of conquest and glory.

Even the normally reserved Hades allowed himself a rare smirk as he watched his comrades indulge in their triumph.

Hera and Demeter danced with the nymphs, Poseidon drank himself into a stupor with Epimetheus and Prometheus, while Zeus—ever the center of attention—boasted of his battles, his laughter booming like thunder.

It was a three days of feast and laughter, celebrating the coming of a new era.

However, when the fourth day came, the celebrations ceased.

It is now time to settle an important matter.

The division of cosmos.

The gods gathered in a solemn circle, their revelry replaced with purpose.

At the center sat three thrones, each magnificent in its own right.

Hades sat upon a dark obsidian throne, its polished surface reflecting no light, absorbing all in its presence. A throne of authority, finality, and judgment—one that befitted the Lord of the Underworld.

Zeus rested upon a golden throne, gleaming like the sun itself, radiating power and ambition. It was a throne that demanded obedience, one meant for a king.

Poseidon leaned against an emerald throne, its deep green hues mirroring the depths of the ocean. It was a throne of storm and tide, strength and fury, belonging to the god who ruled the waters of the world.

The three strongest gods sat, their concealed power radiating an oppressive feeling.

Hades was the first to speak, his voice calm yet absolute.

"I will not participate in this," he said, his eyes unwavering. "The Underworld is already my domain, and I am content with it."

Whoever rules the sky or a sea is none of his concerns. After all, at the end of the day, no matter how high the sky is, or how vast the ocean is, they will always, inevitable, comes to an end.

And all that has ended, will fall to the underworld.

Zeus and Poseidon exchanged a glance, each knowing what that meant. Only two domains remained—the Sky and the Sea.

And there could only be one ruler for each.

The Earth wasn’t even an option, as it is the domain of Gaia. And no one wants to piss of a Primordial by claiming dominion over her domain.

A silent tension filled the air.

These two great gods had fought together against the Titans, but now, they would have to settle who among them would take the greatest domain of all—the Sky.

Rhea, their mother, stood beside Gaia, the Primordial Earth, her expression unreadable.

Hestia, the eldest sibling, watched in quiet concern.

Hera, Demeter, Hecate, and the others observed in expectation, knowing that whoever ruled the Sky would rule over all.

Gaia, the oldest among them, finally stepped forward. Her voice was like the shifting of mountains, ancient and all-knowing.

"The division of the world shall not be decided by battle, nor by ambition," she declared. "It shall be left to fate."

She raised a hand, and from the earth rose two identical stones, smooth and shimmering. Inside one of them contained gold, the other emerald.

She held them out to the two gods.

"Whoever picks the golden stone shall rule the Sky," she continued. "And whoever picks the emerald stone shall rule the Seas."

Then, without warning, she threw them into the air.

A flash of lightning. A blur of motion.

Zeus and Poseidon vanished in an instant, their divine speed leaving the watching gods and divine spirits in awe.

The stones soared through the sky, and the two gods raced toward them with the speed of light, each aiming for the one they desired most.

Zeus’ heart pounded like a drum of war. He had dreamed of the Sky—of ruling above all, of standing atop Olympus as the King of the Gods.

The golden stone was his.

He reached for a stone, his fingers inches away—

But Poseidon was just as determined.

The Sea was powerful. Unpredictable. It had no master, no true king. But he had ruled it in battle, commanded it as his own, and he knew that it was his destiny to claim it.

However...he also wants to be the king of the heavens and rule over all cosmos!

Their hands clashed mid-air, sparks of divine power crackling as they wrestled for their chosen fate.

The entire sky trembled beneath their might, the heavens themselves bearing witness to the moment that would define the cosmos.

The gods watched, their eyes wide with anticipation.

Then—

A flash of gold. A gleam of emerald.

And it was over.

The gods gathered around as the two brothers landed.

Zeus opened his hand. In his palm lay a certain stone...and in an instant, it cracked, and broke apart, revealing a golden stone, gleaming brightly like the sun.

Poseidon stood beside him, the stone on his hand cracked and broke apart, revealing an emeral stone, gleaming like the sea on a horizon.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—

A roar of thunder echoed across the heavens.

Zeus threw his hands into the air, his form radiating with power and triumph.

"I AM KING OF THE GODS!" he bellowed, his voice shaking the very fabric of the world. "THE SKY BELONGS TO ME!"

Lightning flashed across the heavens, illuminating the new ruler of cosmos.

The gods cheered, their voices rising in unison.

The age of the Titans was over.

The age of the Olympians had begun.

Poseidon, though disappointed, smirked. The sea was vast—endless. It had its own power, its own mysteries. He would rule it well.

Hades remained silent, watching his brothers celebrate their victory. His realm was already secure, his power absolute.

He had no interest in ruling over Cosmos or the mortal world.

The cosmos had been divided. The gods had taken their thrones.

And the new era has began.

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Later that night.

A small temple sat upon a quiet hill, untouched by the chaos of war. It was an ancient structure, its pillars cracked with time, yet within its worn walls, warmth and peace filled the air.

Inside, a long wooden table was set, illuminated by the flickering glow of torches and Hestia’s sacred flame.

Plates of ambrosia, goblets filled with divine nectar, and an array of fruits, bread, and honeyed meats were spread on the table.

Rhea, Hades, Poseidon, Zeus, Hestia, Demeter, and Hera sat, gathered around the table.

For the first time in years, the Olympians sat together—not as warriors, not as rebels, but as family.

At the head of the table sat Rhea, their mother, her presence gentle yet firm.

She had endured so much, watching her children rise against their father, waiting for the day when peace would finally come.

Now, as she looked upon them, victorious and free, a soft smile graced her lips.

As they ate, laughter and conversation filled the temple. For the first time since their war against the Titans, there was no talk of strategy or battle—only peace.

Then, Rhea set down her cup and looked around at her children.

"The war is over," she said gently. "What do you all plan on doing now?"

A brief silence followed. Some of the gods paused, considering the question. Others already knew their answers.

It was Demeter who spoke first. She twirled a strand of golden wheat between her fingers, her amber eyes shimmering with excitement.

"I want to wander the earth,x she said with a smile. "To travel across its lands and search for unique plants and flowers—to bring beauty to this world."

Rhea nodded approvingly. "That sounds wonderful, Demeter."

Hestia placed her cup down, her expression serene.

"I’d like to have my own temple—somewhere peaceful," she said. "A place where I can live quietly and tend to my flame. I have no desire for power or rule."

Rhea’s eyes softened. "That suits you well, my dear Hestia."

Then, Hera spoke. She sat beside Hades, her hands resting on the table as she gazed at him.

"I will accompany Hades to the Underworld," she declared.

A hush fell over the table. Even Hades—who had barely reacted to the others’ words—turned to look at her. His eyes flickered, but he said nothing.

Rhea only smiled knowingly.

Then, Zeus cleared his throat.

"I will rebuild Mount Othrys and rename it Mount Olympus," he said with pride. "It will stand as a symbol of our victory and our rule."

Then, he clenched his fist, his blue eyes darkened slightly. "I will also hunt down the remnants of the Titans and deliver justice as necessary."

Rhea sighed but did not argue. She knew Zeus’ heart—his thirst for order and dominion.

Poseidon leaned back in his chair, smirking.

"As for me," he said, "I will return to the ocean, my true home. And.... I plan to marry a certain nymph that I’ve fallen for."

Rhea smiled, "Congratulations, Poseidon. I wish you and her a happy marriage."

Hera nodded at that, "I will bless your marriage, brother."

Then, all eyes slowly turned to Hades.

He had remained silent throughout the discussion, listening but not speaking. Now, under the weight of their stares, he finally set down his fork and sighed.

"I will rule the Underworld," he said simply. His voice was calm, unwavering. "And I will likely never interfere with the affairs of the upper world."

Silence followed his words.

Hades did not elaborate. He did not promise grand ambitions or future conquests. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

His duty was clear.

His path already chosen.

And that was enough.

Rhea studied him for a long moment before nodding approvingly. "Then do so with wisdom and strength, my son."

Hades gave her a small nod in return.

With that, their meal continued, the harmony of family filling the temple once more.

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The night was quiet, the sky a vast expanse of darkness, dotted with silver stars.

A gentle breeze drifted through the trees, rustling the leaves in a soothing whisper.

The war was over.

The cosmos had been reshaped.

And Hades can now rule his domain in peace.

He sat beneath an ancient tree, its gnarled roots spreading beneath him, its sturdy branches stretching toward the heavens.

The cold air of the night did not bother him—instead, it felt familiar, comforting in a way that few things did.

As Hades gazed at the stars, lost in thought, soft footsteps approached. He did not need to look to know who it was.

His mother, Rhea.

She walked toward him, the moonlight casting a silver glow upon her figure. Draped in flowing white robes, she moved with the grace of a queen, yet there was something tender about the way she carried herself.

She stopped beside him and smiled gently.

"You’re awake."

Hades glanced at her, then turned his gaze back to the sky. "So are you."

Rhea chuckled softly and lowered herself beside him, folding her hands in her lap. They sat together in comfortable silence, the only sound the occasional whisper of the wind.

After a moment, Rhea spoke again. "How do you feel?"

Hades hummed, tilting his head as if considering the question.

"Relieved," he admitted.

Rhea nodded, as if she had expected that answer. "The weight of war is heavy, but the weight of peace is not much lighter."

Hades nodded at that. "Perhaps."

The two sat for a while, watching the sky, before Rhea turned to him again. Her voice was softer now, more thoughtful.

"Do you remember," she asked, "the question I asked you years ago?"

Hades did not need to think. He remembered perfectly.

"What will you use your strength for?"

Back then, he had answered without hesitation.

’So I will never feel powerless again.’

He had been just thrusts into this mythical time. He was afraid of dangers, of the unknowns, so he wanted strength to ensure he will never feel helpless.

Rhea turned her gaze to him, studying him carefully. "Has your answer changed?"

Hades did not respond immediately.

Instead, he let the wind pass through, the cool air brushing against his skin. He listened to the rustling of the leaves, to the quiet heartbeat of the world around him.

Then, slowly, he stood.

Turning toward his mother, he shook his head.

"No," he said at last. "My answer has not changed."

Rhea watched him, her expression serene and calm.

"But," Hades continued, a small smile forming on his lips, "I have found another reason to use my strength."

Rhea’s eyes softened. "And what is that?"

Hades lifted his gaze to the sky once more. His eyes reflected the moon’s pale light, steady and unyielding.

"To be a great king."

Rhea stared at him for a long moment before finally smiling. It was a smile of pride, of understanding.

She stood, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Then be one, my son."

And with that, she left him to the night, knowing that he already was.