The God of Underworld-Chapter 132 - 31

The sun hovered lazily above the horizon, casting warm amber light over the majestic city of Herion.

Marble towers gleamed in its embrace, untouched by fire or shadow. Fields flourished beyond the city walls, bearing no scars of monster attack. The scent of olives and pomegranates mingled with the crisp wind.

Hestia, from high above, floated gently in the sky, her divine senses sweeping the lands.

Herion was safe. Thanks to the ever-vigilant Sentinels, the monsters had not breached its borders.

She smiled to herself, heart warmed by the sight of peace.

The leader of the Sentinels, Varn, and his unit were currently on patrol, circling the fields and watching the roads.

Their presence exuded quiet confidence and pride.

"They’ve done well," Hestia whispered, voice soft as a hearthfire.

Despite being reduced to a small fragment of what they once were, Herion still stood strong.

As she turned to leave and search for other cities in need, the shadows below rippled.

The grass twisted. Trees bent backward. And from the writhing dark, a monstrous figure emerged from the shadows.

A Giant.

Hestia immediately went to a fighting stance.

Towering just over five meters, the behemoth held a great axe that shimmered like obsidian dipped in hatred.

"...a giant." Hestia narrowed her eyes, "Have you come to attack Herion? Do you fear humanity so much that you are willing to send such powerful beings to do the job?"

The giant grinned, a grin so twisted and cruel, before speaking in a guttural voice.

"Far from it. We couldn’t care less about those pitiful creatures. I came for you."

"Me?"

"By the order of the King of Giants, I, Polybotes, sentence you, the Goddess of Hearth, to death and suffering in damnation."

Hestia narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Her stance shifted slightly, and in a breath of fire and serenity, she summoned a burning crimson spear.

"I don’t know why you want to do that, I’m pretty weak compared to my siblings, so I wouldn’t even be a threat." She levitated a few feet of the ground.

"Who knows? Your divinity is pretty vast, but from your stance, I can see that you haven’t had any experience in combat."

Hestia remained silent. That was true. She does not like combat, so she never really bothered trying to fight.

"This will be easy..." Polybotes laughed as he lunged.

Hestia was quick to thrust her spear straight to the rushing Polybotes.

The Giant tilted his head as he raised his axe and swung the massive weapon down to cut her down.

Hestia kneed him in the guts, interrupting his attack before she summoned her Azure Lotus and burned him.

"AAARGGHH!!!"

Polybotes roared in pain as he felt his soul burn, completely bypassing his anti-divine body.

Hestia quickly thrusts her spear to his heart.

The Giant glared at Hestia, and ignoring all the pain, raised his axe high.

The sky roared with thunder as the giant’s axe descended to the goddess of hearth, who was enough to use her spear to block the attack.

CRACK!

The earth trembled as Hestia was slammed down like a doll, her divine body cracking the stone beneath her.

Golden blood trailed from the corner of her lips as she gasped in pain.

Polybotes snarled with hatred and disdain. The flames burning him dissipated, "That was a lucky shot. I thought you’d be weaker. But I guess and Olympian is still an Olympian huh?"

He raised his massive axe, the blade forged from stone and grief, carved with runes that pulsed like diseased veins. Its edge gleamed with god-killing intent.

"Goddess of Hearth, huh? I’ll rip that gentle flame out of you," the giant growled, his voice like a grinding avalanche. "You won’t light anything again."

But before he could strike...

CLANG!

A blade, so mundane and mortal, intercepted the axe, knocking it just off-course.

The blow didn’t shatter the axe, nor injure the giant. But it staggered him.

Polybotes turned, sneering.

Standing before him were humans. Dozens. Led by a man in obsidian armor and a crimson cloak, Varn, the Leader of the Sentinels.

They stared at him with eyes that lacks any fear and uncertainty.

The giant laughed. "Mortals? A mere human dare to interrupt the battle between a god and a giant?!"

He roared, a thunderous war-cry meant to shatter courage and minds alike.

The humans didn’t flinch.

Instead, they charged.

The sentinels moved like a storm of wolves — swift, calculated, and impossibly coordinated.

Polybotes’ axe arced downward to cleave through them, but the front line split and rolled beneath it, their blades slashing the tendons behind his knees as they passed.

The giant screamed and stumbled. He swung again, this time sideways, but the second wave was already above him, using the ruins around them to leap onto his shoulders.

Steel met flesh, leaving wounds that sizzled against his divine-resistant hide.

Just then, a young woman broke from the ranks and rushed to Hestia’s side, a magic circle flaring to life in her hand.

Soft green light wrapped around the fallen goddess, healing cracks in her ribs and sealing the divine blood that trickled from her temple.

Hestia blinked in shock.

Magic. She realized. The craft created by Hecate that is completely different from divinity.

Hestia once had the opportunity to witness Hecate completely interfere with the laws of reality with nothing but her magic.

Has she taught it to humans?

As the battle raged, Hestia finally noticed what she hadn’t seen before.

The humans were faster than they should’ve been. Their skin shimmered faintly with glowing blue veins, tracing along arms, legs, even necks — like nerves, but alive.

She soon realized what it was.

"Reinforcement Magic," she murmured.

A magic Hecate had developed long ago, to counter the physical difference between her and her opponents. A magic which has the ability to increase strength, speed, durability, and over all quality of anything that you cast it on.

She’d never imagined it would be mastered by humans as well. No wonder they are able to keep up with Polybotes, no matter how injured he is.

The soldiers weren’t just fighting bravely. They were fighting like demigods. And perhaps even more efficiently.

They didn’t engage head-on. They rotated. They distracted, baited, and struck with surgical precision.

They used hit-and-run tactics, wearing the Giant down bit by bit, as if they were hunting a beast, not fighting a god-killer.

Polybotes roared, bleeding from a dozen small wounds. Panic began to creep into his voice.

Why?

Why didn’t they fear him?

Why didn’t they worship or tremble, like mortals should?

He was a Giant. A bane to Olympus. He was born to tear down gods and rule the ruins.

Why did these humans look at him like he was the prey?

WHY!?

Varn’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

"He’s slowing. Target the hamstrings and eyes. Shield units, on me."

The humans obeyed immediately. Several moved in to draw the giant’s attention, while two archers knelt beside a broken column and fired glowing arrows — tipped not with steel, but with blessed obsidian taken from the Underworld, gifted by the underworld gods themselves.

They struck the giant’s shoulder, forcing him back.

Finally, Hestia stood. The Lotus was back in her hand, its flame burning brighter now that her strength had returned.

The healing from earlier, combined with her natural divinity, had restored her nearly to full strength.

She rose above the battlefield, fire blooming around her like a second sun.

"HOLD!" she commanded, and the humans stopped, pulling back.

The giant, panting and bleeding, raised his axe again — just in time to see Hestia’s eyes glow with radiant flame.

"You hurt those under my protection," she said quietly. "You threatened my fire."

She raised the Azure Lotus and whispered.

"Burn."

A beam of pure blue flame erupted from the Lotus, not like mortal fire, but divine soulflame.

It struck the giant’s chest, bypassing his divine resistance, and touched his soul directly.

The giant screamed. Not from pain — from terror.

He tried to vanish into the shadows, but the flame latched onto him, pulling him back.

He tried to resist, but the fear had already unmade his rage.

He ran.

Staggering, burning, he fled, howling into the distance, smoke trailing behind him like a comet’s tail.

"Chase after him!" Hestia roared, "My flames have weakened him!"

Varn was quick to react, "All units! Chase!"

The humans all used reinforcement on their limbs and ran faster than a horse, moving like they were the wind.

Polybotes panted in pain and agony, his soul was still burning, his heart pounded like a war drum, each beat louder than the last.

Gravel scraped beneath his feet as he bolted down the slippery downhill, lungs burning, legs screaming.

The shadows stretched longer behind him as the sun dipped low, casting everything in a sickly, orange-red glow.

He didn’t dare look back at first—not until he heard it.

The footsteps.

Not just one. Many. Dozens, maybe more. Incredibly fast and unrelenting.

He turned his head.

And that’s when the world shattered.

The group of humans charged after him like a pack of starving wolves.

They didn’t speak. They didn’t yell. They just ran.

Their expressions were void of empathy—just raw instinct.

Like predators scenting blood.

His breath hitched.

No one told him that humans were this scary.

Swoosh!

One of them, the leader, Varn, threw a spear at his legs, causing him to trip and fall down.

Polybotes grunted in pain as he felt the world tilted.

His eyes widened in fear as the humans slowly approached him.

Varn stood before him, "For a giant, you run like a pig to be hunted."

"No—!"

Then—darkness.

That was the last thing he saw.

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