Chapter 7: The Battle

Campe.

A half-female half-dragon.

A being of great power even gods are afraid of her. In the myths, even the mighty Zeus required help to defeat her.

She possess enough strength to guard the Tartarus, which was overflowing with the worst existence in all of Greek mythology.

And Hades is going to face her alone.

Hades narrowed his eyes as Campe took a step forward, her presence alone making the very air crackle with energy.

She was strong.

Stronger than any of his siblings.

And yet, he was undeterred.

Without hesitation, he conjured a spear of darkness in his grasp, the weapon forming out of the abyss itself. Its jagged, obsidian-like surface pulsed with shadow, swallowing the faint light that dared to touch it.

Campe smirked, revealing razor-sharp fangs.

Then, she moved.

Like a blur, she lunged, her claws swiping through the air with terrifying speed. Hades barely had time to react before he sidestepped, spinning his spear and thrusting it forward.

A loud clang rang through the abyss as his weapon met her hardened scales. Sparks flew as her claws clashed against his spear, her raw power sending tremors through the ground beneath them.

Campe roared, her tail whipping around with deadly force. Hades ducked just in time as the tail shattered the rock behind him, leaving a deep trench in the ground.

She was fast—faster than he expected.

But he was faster.

Hades teleported, slipping into the shadows beneath Campe and reappearing behind her. His spear shot forward like lightning, aiming for the back of her skull.

She twisted at the last second.

A clawed hand caught the spear mid-strike. Campe grinned, her grip tightening—then with monstrous strength, she swung him like a ragdoll and hurled him through the air.

Hades crashed into a crumbling mountain of ribcages, the bones shattering under the force of his impact. Dust and debris exploded outward, but he was already moving.

Teleporting again, he reemerged beside Campe, driving his spear into her exposed ribs.

The weapon sank in, shadows writhing along its length, trying to consume her from within.

Campe snarled, grabbing his spear with both hands. Her body trembled—then with a feral roar, she tore the weapon out and shattered it in her grasp.

Before he could react, her knee slammed into his gut.

The impact sent him flying again, skidding across the charred ground.

Hades gritted his teeth, his hand gripping the ground to halt his movement. Campe was already charging again, eyes glowing with madness.

He raised his hand.

Darkness erupted from the ground like an unholy storm, twisting and expanding like a living void. Tendrils of pure shadow lashed out, binding Campe's limbs, constricting her with the force of a black hole.

She roared, thrashing violently, but the darkness held strong.

For a moment, Hades thought he had her.

Then—

The entire abyss shook.

A wave of raw power exploded from Campe's form. The shadows holding her disintegrated instantly, and before Hades could react—

She changed.

Her body expanded, muscles twisting, bones snapping and reforming. Her humanoid form stretched, elongated, her flesh replaced with crimson scales harder than divine steel.

Her wings expanded from her back, massive and powerful, sending gusts of wind strong enough to flatten mountains.

Her tail extended, slamming into the ground, causing the earth to rupture beneath her.

The very air burned as her transformation completed.

Before Hades now stood a colossal western dragon, her dark crimson scales shimmering under the eerie glow of Tartarus. Her eyes, filled with ancient fury, locked onto him.

Then, she roared.

The sound alone sent shockwaves rippling across Tartarus, strong enough to shake the prison itself.

Outside of Tartarus, Hecate, standing at the cliff's edge, felt the tremors. Her expression darkened.

'This power…'

Back inside, Hades stared at the massive beast before him.

If Campe was strong before—

Now, she was a calamity.

But Hades only smirked.

With a wave of his hand, the darkness around him twisted and swirled. From the abyss, figures emerged—knights clad in pitch-black armor, their bodies composed entirely of living shadows.

A legion of spectral warriors, their blades raised, ready to fight.

Hades took a step forward, his own power growing.

Campe wasted no time.

The instant she completed her transformation, her massive wings flared open, sending a hurricane-force gust across Tartarus.

Then, she struck.

Her colossal claw came down like a mountain, aiming to crush Hades into dust.

But he was already moving.

With a flicker, he vanished into the shadows beneath him, slipping between the threads of existence itself.

Campe's claw struck the ground with such force that the land itself screamed. A shockwave rippled outward, splitting open the abyss, sending rivers of molten darkness cascading into the void.

Reappearing behind her, Hades spun his spear, hurling it with divine precision.

The weapon, infused with his authority, turned into a bolt of pure darkness, piercing through Campe's side.

The dragon bellowed, twisting in pain.

She retaliated instantly, her massive tail whipping toward him like a catapult of destruction. Hades barely had time to teleport again before it obliterated the area where he once stood, leaving only a crater in its wake.

Raising his hand, he gave a silent command.

His shadow knights surged forward, their blades cutting through the air like specters of death.

They clashed with Campe, overwhelming her with sheer numbers.

But the dragon was not so easily subdued.

With a single beat of her wings, she sent the entire army flying, their bodies dispersing into the abyss.

She opened her jaws, divine fire gathering at the core of her throat—a fire not of ordinary flames but of raw destruction.

A blast of draconic breath erupted forth, a tidal wave of crimson annihilation.

Hades teleported just in time, reappearing above her, spear in hand.

With a mighty swing, he unleashed a crescent arc of darkness, slicing through the flames, parting them like a blade through silk.

But Campe anticipated it.

Before he could react, she twisted her body and, with an impossible burst of speed for a being her size, lunged.

Her massive jaws snapped shut around him.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—

BOOM!

A catastrophic explosion of dark energy erupted from Campe's mouth, sending her reeling back, her maw shattering from within.

From the black explosion, Hades emerged—his body wreathed in shadows, his form flickering between reality and something else entirely.

His spear had evolved—no longer merely an extension of his power, but something deeper.

Hades landed, staring at the wounded Campe, who was already regenerating.

This had gone on long enough.

It was time to show her why he was to be the King of the Underworld.

Darkness spread from his feet, but it was different this time.

This was not mere shadow.

This was something absolute.

A concept.

This was the physical manifestation of the concept darkness.

Darkness is the absence of light. The absence of warmth. The absence of existence.

A void deeper than Tartarus itself.

Yes. Darkness is the "absence of existence".

The landscape of the prison began to unravel. The mountains of bones, the rivers of black sludge, the wailing walls of flesh—all of it was being consumed.

Not in the way fire devours, nor in the way darkness obscures.

This was erasure.

Everything the abyss touched ceased to be, as if it had never existed in the first place.

Campe realized it too late.

She roared and lunged again, but her body—her wings, her claws—they did not move.

She looked down.

Her limbs were dissolving—no, not dissolving. Being forgotten by the world.

Like a story erased from history.

Hades raised his hand.

The blackness surged forward, swallowing Campe whole.

She roared one final time, thrashing, resisting—but it was futile.

Within moments, she was almost gone.

Not dead.

Not defeated.

Simply... gone.

And then—

Hades stopped.

With a wave of his hand, the void retreated, withdrawing its claim on Campe.

Her body, though weakened, was whole again. She collapsed onto the ground, gasping, her massive frame trembling.

Her crimson eyes, once blazing with unrelenting fury, now flickered with something else.

Recognition.

Fear.

Submission.

Hades stepped forward, his voice calm but absolute.

"Submit."

A shudder ran through Campe's massive form.

For an eternity, she had been the guardian of Tartarus, a force of destruction feared even by the gods. She had fought, she had slaughtered, she had ruled over the prisoners of this wretched abyss.

Yet, in the face of this power—this absolute authority—she understood.

She could not win.

Slowly, painfully, the great dragon lowered herself, bowing her massive head to the God of the Underworld.

Hades smirked.

"That's better."

Then, in a motion both commanding and effortless, he leaped onto her back.

Campe tensed, then relaxed, as his presence settled upon her.

From the depths of Tartarus, a new legend was born.

Not of a battle.

But of a conquest.

The future King of the Underworld now had a mount befitting his power.

And the world above would tremble at the sight of him riding the dragon of Tartarus.

Hades turned, his gaze now falling upon the chained prisoners he had come for.

The Cyclops and the Hecatoncheires, once shackled in torment, now stared at him in awe.

Hades smirked.

"Shall we?"