The God of Underworld-Chapter 52 - 7: Understaffed, and Foreigner

Decades had passed since the Underworld had been reshaped under the rule of Hades.

What once was an empty void cloaked in eternal gloom had become a thriving realm with cities forged in obsidian and crystal, biomes that mimicked the mortal world(with the exception of fauna and flora as Underworld still couldn’t sustain life), and an intricate circulation system for souls.

It had become a realm of judgment, reward, and punishment—divided into three sacred regions: the Outer Section for the damned, the Inner Section for ordinary souls, and the Core Section, the very heart of the Underworld, where gods, divine spirits, and great souls dwelled.

From the Hanging Fortress that floated above it all, Hades could see his kingdom in motion—souls moving like rivers, divine spirits maintaining order, and his laws being upheld with unwavering discipline.

And yet, despite the order and progress, Hades sat on his throne rubbing his temples, his face slightly twisted in frustration.

"My lord," Styx said, standing in front of the throne with arms crossed. Her long silver hair shimmered like moonlight, and her expression was as cold and pale as ever. "Please, give us permission to wipe them out of existence. They are swarming the outer riverbanks. Charon is at his limit. These creatures die faster than we can judge them."

"Idiots! The lot of them!" snapped Charon from behind her. The skeletal ferryman slammed his oar to the floor. "They drown in puddles, fall off cliffs, eat poisonous fruits, fight beasts with sticks—what kind of design is this? I’ve had to turn my boat into a floating mass grave just to carry them!"

Hades let out a low sigh, "I have no idea what creature are you referring to."

"Prometheus new creation," Styx informed, "He calls those hairless monkies ’humans’."

Charon muttered, "Even monkies aren’t as dumb as them. They at least knew how to climb trees to look for food. Those...humans, just know how to die."

A soft scoff came from beside Hades. Hera, lounging on her chair beside his obsidian throne, draped in a flowing violet gown, opened a projection showing humanity.

"And here I thought the Titans were bad. What a ridiculous race. Ugly, loud, and pathetically fragile. What was Prometheus thinking?"

She absolutely find zero redeeming qualities for this race. They’d probably die out and go extinct in another few years or so.

Hades tilted his head toward her, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I wouldn’t say that. Prometheus is a crafty and shrewd individual, his creation would surely not just remain at this level. I believe they have a lot of potential."

He belived that. After all, he was once a human from the modern era.

Without he help of gods or divine interference, humanity conquered the sea, land, and air, and have set their eyes on the vast ocean of stars.

They are not the strongest, they are not the toughest, but they stood at the apex of Earth’s creation.

Hera rolled her eyes. "Potential for more stupidity, perhaps. One of them died because he smacked his head with a rock!"

Hades chuckled, "Then tell me, did any other humans die the same way as that guy?"

"..." Hera paused, observing the projection. "...None."

"Exactly," Hades nodded, "...They learned from their mistakes and improve, adapt, evolve."

Hera listened, feeling that what Hades said did make sense. But... "Yeah, well, perhaps what you said will come true...if they don’t end up killing themselves, that is."

Hades smiled, "Trust me, they are born to inherit the stars."

Charon groaned. "Then may the stars have mercy on us all."

Hades ignored him and stood up, stepping forward, his dark robes trailing behind him like shadows.

He approached the balcony that overlooked the Core Section of the Underworld, where black towers touched the endless sky and glowing rivers of souls flowed like veins through the land.

"I knew this day would come," he murmured. "...and I believe, Prometheus would soon cause trouble." freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Styx raised an eyebrow. "...Trouble?"

Hades nodded. "Yes. Just my intuition, but I think Prometheus will not stop here. Sly as he is, he cares for all his creations. Seeing the suffering of humanity, he will not sit idly by."

Hera narrowed her eyes, pondering for a moment. "...He won’t plan to steal the gift of fire, won’t he?"

The gift of fire is a "talent" usually reserved for the Olympian gods. It was made by Hestia to bring order and advancement to their rule.

"That’s what I thought as well," Hades nodded at her, "With fire, they will rise beyond their limits. They will craft, they will build, they will learn. And they will suffer."

"They’re suffering already," muttered Charon.

Everyone ignored him.

Hera stood as well, walking to Hades’ side. "And what will we do if he really does? Shall we stop him?"

"No," Hades replied after a pause. "Not to mention I have already said I will not interfere with the affairs of overworld, but I believe that this gift would be far more suitable for humanity."

His voice echoed slightly, filled with solemn weight. "That’s why, we must not stop it. Instead, we must prepare."

Styx’s gray eyes sharpened. "Prepare?"

Hades turned, gazing at Hera, Styx, and the weary ferryman. "The Underworld is their end—but also their mirror. If mankind is to walk the world above, then we must evolve alongside them. There must be new systems for their judgment, new laws to contain their chaos, and new spirits who can guide them."

Hera looked skeptical, but she said nothing.

Hades lifted a hand, summoning a ghostly flame that hovered above his palm.

It pulsed faintly, then flickered, reshaping itself into a tiny humanoid figure.

A soul.

"Each one of them... holds something divine," Hades said quietly. "Not in strength, nor in wisdom—but in will. The will to defy even us."

He let the flame drift upward, and it disappeared into the sky of the Underworld.

"Very well," Hera said, arms crossed. "But when they start burning down forests or trying to kill each other over rocks, don’t say I didn’t warn you."

Hades flinched.

His mins drifted to the atrocities committed by humanity...on second thought, maybe it’s better for them to die out?

Styx sighed. "Then I’ll need new guardians for the Outer Section. Ones who can keep up with this madness."

"You’ll have them," Hades promised.

He already has a few candidates in mind.

Charon grunted. "And I’ll need more boats."

Hades cracked a rare smile. "You’ll have an entire fleet."

As the complaints echoed through the hall, the Lord of the Underworld turned his gaze once more to the darkness above.

Somewhere, in the overworld, Prometheus was preparing for his theft.

The age of gods was no longer the only story being written.

A new Chapter was beginning.

One forged not by titans or primordial powers...

...but by mortal hands.

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In the deepest folds of underworld and Tartarus, where time was no more than a breath and space coiled in on itself like a serpent, Nyx stirred from the afterglow of her ’short’ moment of passion with Hades.

She had stayed in her bed longer than she intended—too long, perhaps.

Her essence still shimmered with the remnants of her union with Hades, the god whose silence had spoken to the very core of her infinite being.

She had felt whole—complete—in a way she had never imagined.

A graceful smjle formed on her lips as she sat up, intending to observe what her fated one has been up to lately.

But then...

She felt a flicker. A tremor in the fabric of the cosmos.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the edge of infinity, mere distance seems to not exist under her eyes.

Then, her form, still cloaked in shadow and beauty, rippled once—and in the next moment, she was gone.

The stars bent around her as she crossed the heavens in an instant, arriving at the very edge of the Universe, the scarred battlefield where Hades had slain Uranus long ago.

The remnants of the great primordial’s essence still whispered through the dark, like the sighs of a dying immortal.

But Nyx’s gaze was fixed elsewhere.

There, hovering between strands of nothingness, was a crack. Thin. Almost imperceptible.

But to a Primordial, such imperfections were louder than thunder.

Her brows furrowed.

’Since when...? When did this crack appear? Hades and Uranus’ clash shouldn’t have produced enough power to cause a crack at the boundary of the universe.’

But she didn’t spend time dwelling on it for too long. Instead, she raised her hand, pale as starlight, and snapped her fingers.

Reality shivered.

The crack sealed instantly, threads of cosmic matter weaving themselves together like silk pulled taut.

Nyx remained still for a moment, her face unreadable. Her shadows gathered around her, more restless than before.

"How did I not see this sooner...?" she whispered, her voice soft but layered with power, echoing through the emptiness.

The void offered no answer.

She floated there, timeless and alone, her long hair drifting like a river of night across the stars.

Then, she touched the space where the crack had been, frowning deeper.

"I see, so it’s that... But it isn’t the time yet," she muttered, more to herself than to the cosmos. "...you are far too eager."

She knew that ’something’ had entered this universe, something that she is quite familiar with.

For now, it managed to hide its presence quite well, perhaps it knew that she will show no mercy and would erase it as soon as she saw it.

Her eyes turned downward. Past the stars. Past the celestial veil. Past the shifting winds of Chaos.

Her gaze locked on Earth.

The blue planet spun silently, unaware of the danger looming beyond the stars.

"I don’t know how many times does this make...perhaps I should meet with Kronos and discuss about this event to him."

She vanished again, melting into the darkness like ink spilled into water. The universe shuddered once more, then fell silent.

But far below, beneath the sky, a new story had already begun.

And something that did not belong... was already watching.