The God of Underworld-Chapter 66 - 20: Earth and Underworld

The sun cast its golden rays over the bustling city of Herion, the first human city-state forged under the leadership of Herios.

Within the city’s central hall, Herios was engrossed in administrative duties, addressing matters ranging from resource allocation to defense strategies.

The city’s growth had been rapid, with advancements in agriculture, construction, and governance.

However, the peace was abruptly interrupted when a breathless scout burst into the hall, his face pale with urgency.

"Lord Herios," the scout gasped, kneeling before the leader. "Our patrols have observed an alarming phenomenon. Monsters are amassing in the northern territories, forming what appears to be a beast tide."

Herios’s eyes narrowed, the weight of the news settling heavily upon him.

He immediately summoned his council, composed of former tribal leaders who had united under his banner.

The council convened in the war chamber, a room adorned with maps and strategic plans.

As the council members took their seats, Herios addressed the scout, "Report your findings in detail."

The scout stood, his voice steady despite the gravity of his message. "While on routine patrol, I noticed a sudden absence of wildlife, a silence that was unsettling. Driven by concern, I ventured beyond our usual perimeter. There, I witnessed a congregation of beasts unlike any we’ve seen. They were numerous, their eyes filled with bloodlust, and their movements coordinated."

A murmur spread through the council. One member leaned forward, "Can you estimate their numbers?"

The scout shook his head, "Their numbers are vast, too many to count. They stretch across the horizon, a sea of claws and fangs."

Another councilor inquired, "Where exactly are they gathering?"

"In the northern plains, near the old forest boundary," the scout replied.

Herios stood, his expression resolute. "Sound the horns. Mobilize our forces. We must prepare for war."

The council members nodded, understanding the urgency.

The city’s defenses were activated, with soldiers taking their positions along the walls.

Archers prepared their bows, and the blacksmiths worked tirelessly to forge weapons.

Citizens were instructed to seek shelter, and healers readied their supplies.

Herios, clad in his armor, addressed the assembled troops, "We face a formidable enemy, but we stand united. Our city, our people, and our future depend on our courage and strength."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the city, the distant growls and howls of the approaching beast tide echoed through the air.

The battle for Herion was about to begin.

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The Underworld was vast.

Contrary to the old beliefs of mortals, it was now not just a land of shadows and suffering.

Under the firm hand of Hades, it had become a realm of structure, layered, organized, and filled with countless cities and biomes.

From the volcanic depths of the Infernal Mountains to the golden plains of the Reincarnation Fields, each corner of the Underworld reflected the complexity of death itself.

In the Inner Section of the realm, where virtuous souls and divine spirits dwelled, stood a region blanketed in eternal frost.

Known as Glaciem Noctis, it was a tundra biome inhabited by gods and spirits of ice, snow, and stillness.

Here, the silence was sacred.

Pale blue skies loomed over cities of carved sapphire and crystalline towers, and auroras danced slowly overhead, casting light across endless fields of snow.

On a narrow bench beneath a towering ice tree whose frozen branches shimmered with silver frost, a lone traveler sat cloaked in gray.

No one paid him much attention. After all, travelers came and went often, dead souls from distant cultures, divine spirits seeking peace, and the occasional god in exile.

But this one... he was different.

It was Hades, disguised.

His divine aura was tightly bound and hidden. Even the most sensitive spirits around him could not tell what he was.

For weeks now, he had wandered his own realm,inspecting cities, walking among the dead, and sitting beside the weary.

He observed the lives of those under his rule not as a king, but as a quiet man of patience and thought.

This was his way.

He had visited the floating gardens of the Windward City, walked the obsidian streets of Vantael where the Void spirits meditated, and even dined with an elderly shade who claimed to have been a poet in life.

But now, his steps had brought him to Glaciem Noctis, to this serene bench beneath the ice tree.

It was here, amidst the gentle hum of cold wind and the soft whisper of frost, that something shifted.

A presence stirred beside him, soft, ancient, heavy with the weight of creation itself.

The air thickened. The snow beneath his boots trembled.

Hades turned his gaze slowly.

Beside him stood a woman, barefoot on the snow yet untouched by the cold. Her hair flowed like wild roots and rivers of stone, her skin as rich as that of fertile soil, eyes like deep wells of emerald fire.

The scent of life, of earth and storms and mountain breath, surrounded her like a crown.

XGaia," Hades said, voice neutral but respectful.

The Primordial of Earth smiled gently, as if she had been waiting for him to notice her.

"Hades," she greeted, her tone smooth and deliberate. "It’s been long since we last spoke without divine noise between us."

He nodded once and turned his eyes back to the snowy horizon, though his mind sharpened with alertness.

"Usually, when a Primordial steps into my realm," he said slowly, "it means something troubling is coming"

Gaia chuckled, a low, ancient sound that vibrated through the ground. "Must you always greet me like I’m the herald of doom?"

"Experience tells me yes."

Her smile faded slightly. For a long moment, they sat in silence. The only sound was the faint crackling of ice in the wind.

"I’ve watched you," Gaia finally said. "Ruling from the shadows, rarely asking for glory. Your Underworld thrives while Olympus... wallows."

Hades said nothing.

"They mock you. Yet it is you who builds cities. You who tames monsters. You who understands what it means to hold responsibility." She looked at him then. "You are the only one among your brothers worthy of the title King."

Hades remained still. "And?"

Gaia tilted her head, as if measuring his soul. "I’m angry, Hades. The Olympians dance and drink upon sacred land that once pulsed with my power. They sully it with their lust, their pride, their negligence."

He finally looked at her again, his eyes unreadable. "So you’ve come to me. Why?"

"I’ve decided to create a new race," Gaia said, voice low. "A race not born of selfish gods nor birthed from my own body. One that will shake the Olympians. Humble them. Punish them if need be."

Hades raised an eyebrow. "And you want my help."

"I need your seed," she said plainly. "You are the only god strong enough. Stable enough. You represent order, where the others only breed chaos. With you, I will create a being neither fully mine nor fully yours, but something greater than either."

A deep silence fell between them.

Hades looked out over the icy plains again, his thoughts veiled. The wind stirred his cloak as he pondered her request.

He could’ve refused. He had refused her once. But life as a god has made his past memories dull, he couldn’t even remember his past name.

The only thing that reminds him that he was a reborn, was the scent of mint.

So for the current him, he wasn’t that adverse to procreation.

Gaia did not press. She waited, timeless.

Finally, Hades spoke.

"Creating life is no light matter. And the Olympians... they are not so easily humbled. You may start another war."

Gaia’s eyes glowed faintly green. "Then let war come."

"And if your creation goes beyond what you intend?" he asked. "If it falls into darkness, as Cronus once did?"

"Then we deal with it," she replied. "As gods should."

Hades sighed through his nose. "Let me think."

Gaia stood slowly, her bare feet making no sound on the snow.

"Take your time," she said. "But do not take too long. The land suffers. And I do not forget those who hurt my body."

She began to walk away, disappearing into the air like a breeze through the trees.

Only the echo of her power remained, a whisper of earth, and the weight of purpose.

Hades sat alone once more.

The ice tree above him crackled. The wind returned.

And the Lord of the Underworld leaned back slightly, gazing upward at the frozen branches as he considered what the future might bring.