The God of Underworld
Chapter 114 - 13

The air inside of a cavern was thick with the scent of earth and fire, the flickering shadows casting grotesque figures on the walls.

Enceladus kneeled before the towering figure of the Porphyrion, the King of Giants, the greatest of giants, his presence both commanding and terrifying.

His colossal form was swathed in a cloak of darkness, his eyes glowing with an unnatural intensity, like two burning stars in the cold void.

His voice was deep, a rumble like the breaking of mountains, but there was no anger in it—only an eerie calm.

"Enceladus," Porphyrion voice echoed, sending tremors through the stone beneath them. "Tell me the results of your mission."

Enceladus bowed his head low, the weight of the words he had to speak pressing down on him.

He had failed.

He had come so close, yet Athena had proven herself more than just a goddess of wisdom—she was a warrior in her own right, one that had nearly bested him.

But he would not show weakness to the King. The Giants were built on pride, on power, and he would not falter now.

"I failed, my King," Enceladus spoke with a measured tone, trying to conceal the frustration gnawing at his soul. "Athena proved to be more troublesome opponent than I anticipated, although I was stronger, she was far more skilled and experienced. But I was able to prevail over her, however… as I was about to deliver the final blow, I sensed Zeus and the other Olympians approaching. I deemed it best to retreat, to fight another day."

Porphyrion remained silent, his immense form unmoving, as if contemplating his words.

His gaze, unfathomable and distant, never wavered.

It was as though he was listening to something beyond the realm of mortals and gods, something far more ancient.

He did not express anger, nor disappointment. He simply hummed, a low vibration that resonated through the air.

"I see," the King rumbled, his voice a soft, unsettling thunder. "And what of the anti-divine properties engraved in our very soul? Have they proven as useful as we hoped?"

Enceladus straightened slightly, the tension in his body rising.

He had hoped to leave that part of the report until later when he have far more results, but it was inevitable. The truth of their nature could not be ignored.

"Yes, my King," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and fear. "Our bodies, our very essence, seems to be a natural counter to divine power. The anti-divine properties are… profound. We barely be harmed by their divinity, and their attacks only serve to tickle hd. The Olympians, gods like Zeus and Athena, they are nothing before us. We are immune to their powers."

Porphyrion eyes glimmered with approval, though his expression remained unreadable.

He leaned forward slightly, the weight of his gaze bearing down on Enceladus like the pressure of a thousand storms.

"So it is true," the King muttered. "Our strength is beyond them. And oir bodies resists their divinity that they are so proud of."

Enceladus paused for a moment, wanting to say that there isn't much evidence nor results to conclude thag. But the King's next question startled him, as it cut to the heart of everything they had fought for.

"And what of the mortals?" Porphyrion asked, his voice growing darker. "Can they kill us?"

Enceladus hesitated. Mortals… weak, fragile, insignificant beings.

How could they ever stand against the might of the giants, much less destroy them?

But even as he thought, a nagging doubt lingered at the back of his mind.

Could they? Could they really?

Humans have no divinity. Their anti-divine properties are completely useless. So can they really?

"Perhaps, my King," Enceladus admitted reluctantly. "But mortals are weak. Their weapons are crude, their armies small. Even their greatest heroes, would struggle against us. They do not pose a threat."

The King's eyes flared with an intensity that seemed to shake the very foundations of the cavern.

The room seemed to grow darker, colder, as if Porphyrion himself was drawing power from the very depths of the earth.

"You do not understand." the King's voice was low and dangerous. "Mortals might be weak, but they might be able to kill us. What if gods would weaken us and have mortals kill us? What then?"

Enceladus could feel the cold rage radiating off the King, and his unease grew.

He couldn't understand why Porphyrion, usually so calm and collected, seems to be far more agitated than before.

"What would you have me do?" Enceladus asked, voice faltering just slightly.

The King's answer was swift and merciless.

"Lead the giants," he commanded, his tone absolute. "I want you to eradicate the mortals now, before they become a problem. We will burn their cities to ash. We will crush their heroes beneath our feet. Leave none standing. The mortals must be wiped from the face of this world.

Enceladus stiffened, his mind racing.

Wiping out mortals? Destroying them wholesale? Why? They are weak and feeble. They pose no threat to them whatsoever.

Not to mention killing mortals would just invites all sorts of trouble.

He had not anticipated such a reckless command.

"But, my King," Enceladus began, hesitating. "Our father, Hades, would not like that. He is the lord of the Underworld, and he governs the souls of the mortals. If we destroy them—"

Porphyrion raised a hand, his expression unchanging.

"Lord Hades will not interfere. He will understand. I am his most loyal follower. And my will is as strong as his." The King's eyes narrowed. "He will not stand in our way."

Enceladus glanced down, conflicted.

Porphyrion had always been a staunch believer of Hades, fiercely loyal and unwavering, but this was… different.

Destroying the mortals would mean defying the very nature of Hades' rule. It would mean breaking the natural order of life and death.

But Enceladus knew better than to question the King's authority.

Porphyrion had always been a steady anchor for the giants, and now, he was the only path forward.

Enceladus swallowed hard, steeling himself for the task.

"I will do as you command," he said, voice quiet but resolute.

As Enceladus turned to leave, something caught his eye. A fleeting vision, an abyss-like eye forming in the center of the King's forehead.

It was massive, pulsating with an otherworldly presence that felt colder than death itself.

For just a fraction of a second, the abyssal eye seemed to stare directly at him, a silent warning, and then it disappeared, as if it had never existed.

He shivered, as if his entire being was broken down and observed before repaired back up.

It was only for a moment, but Enceladus felt like it lasted for eternity.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he continued to leave.

Enceladus did not speak of it.

He trusted his King, but there was something about that eye—that presence—that unsettled him.

Still, he held his tongue, for what was a giant without his loyalty?

With his mind heavy with doubt, Enceladus left the cavern.

The King's command was clear.

The giants would move against the mortals.

The world would burn.

The age of the gods would end.

And yet… that single eye remained on his mind, not leaving his thoughts even for a second.