Chapter 19: The Battle of Kings

The Underworld was no longer silent.

It raged.

Two gods had stepped onto the battlefield, and the divine plane could not contain them.

Hades, Lord of the Underworld.

And the Conqueror, King of Fallen Pantheons.

Their presence alone shattered the boundaries of reality. The sky above them tore apart, revealing something beyond existence. The rivers of the dead screamed upward, their blackened tides twisting into impossible spirals.

The ground beneath them broke and reformed endlessly, struggling to decide whether it should remain solid or collapse into the abyss.

No god should have this much power.

And yet, here they stood.

Facing one another.

Testing the limits of divinity itself.

And then, they moved.

When Gods Fight, the Universe Watches

The Conqueror struck first.

His golden blade, forged from the essence of countless fallen gods, descended like the wrath of a dying sun. The air ignited, the sheer force of his swing warping time itself—past, present, and future merging into one as his will reshaped the battlefield.

Hades lifted his Soul Sword.

And reality broke.

The moment their weapons collided, the Underworld ceased to exist.

For a single instant, nothing remained. No light. No darkness. No space. No time.

Then, the world returned.

The impact sent shockwaves through the divine plane, reaching Olympus, Asgard, the Celestial Courts—every pantheon in existence. The very foundation of reality trembled as the clash of their divinities rewrote the laws of existence.

The weaker gods who stood too close were erased.

Not killed. Not broken. Erased.

Never to have existed in the first place.

Only the strongest remained standing.

The Conqueror smiled. "You are stronger than I expected, Lord of the Dead."

Hades exhaled, the sound alone bending the battlefield to his will. The Underworld shifted, reshaping itself in response.

"I am more than that."

The second clash came faster than thought.

Hades and the Conqueror moved beyond time, beyond space—their battle no longer confined to the physical. They fought in concepts, in raw divinity, in the very essence of what it meant to be.

Each strike tore through layers of reality, exposing something older than the gods themselves.

And the divine plane could barely contain it.

A Battle That Olympus Cannot Ignore

High above, in the golden halls of Olympus, the gods watched in silence.

Even Zeus—**king of gods, ruler of storms, master of Olympus—**stood still, his storm-blue eyes locked onto the distant battle.

He could feel it.

Every strike, every shift in power—it rattled the heavens, forcing even the greatest of gods to acknowledge the truth.

Poseidon gripped his trident, his expression grim. "This is beyond what we imagined."

Athena, ever the strategist, narrowed her gaze. "If this continues—"

"It won't," Zeus interrupted.

The gods turned to him.

"Because we will act."

Hera arched a brow. "You mean to intervene?"

Zeus said nothing at first. But he already knew the answer.

If Hades won this battle, he would be beyond Olympus.

He would be beyond them.

And Zeus could not allow that.

Lightning crackled at his fingertips. His decision had been made.

Olympus would not sit idle.

The Breaking Point

Back on the battlefield, Hades and the Conqueror continued their war.

The golden god's divine energy surged, turning the very concept of victory into a tangible force. His will reshaped the battlefield, bending fate itself to his command.

His every strike carried the weight of millions of conquered gods, their power lingering in his blade.

But Hades was not a conqueror.

He was an end.

And endings were not something that could be conquered.

The moment the Conqueror struck again, Hades let go.

Not of his weapon.

Not of the fight.

But of what he had been.

The Underworld accepted him.

And Hades became more.

The air stilled. The battlefield froze.

For the first time, the Conqueror hesitated.

"You…" His voice was steel, sharp with realization. "You're changing."

Hades finally smiled.

Not in amusement.

Not in arrogance.

But in understanding.

This was not a war to win.

This was a war to become.

And he was not done becoming.