The God of Underworld

Chapter 346 - 45

The 200cm silhouette of the Outer One stood like a vertical slit of absolute shadow in the center of the golden triangle formed by the crosses.

It did not move with the haste of a predator, but with the precision of a surgeon cutting out a tumor, observing as Humanity once again gained their will and determination.

As the golden chains of Jacob’s will tightened, the entity’s countless eyes blinked in a terrifying, synchronized pattern.

A ripple of warped space-time erupted from the entity, but surprisingly, the golden chains did not snap, but as if they simply vibrated into a state of non-existence.

It was as if the entity was destroying the chain from the past, ensuring it no longer exist in the present and future.

"Stay firm!" Jacob roared, his muscles bulging like knotted oaks as he grabbed the slackening chains, trying to force them back into reality through sheer spiritual stubbornness. "I have wrestled with the Divine until the break of day! I will not be shaken by a shadow that has no name!"

The Outer One pointed a slender, obsidian finger at Jacob, and a bolt of grey, silent lightning—an "anti-word", a conceptual attack that erases phenomenon—shot toward his chest.

"’He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust!’" (Psalm 91:4).

But Mary Madeleine stepped into the path of the bolt, her staff raised and a shield of crystalline petals, shimmering with the dew of the Empyrean, manifested before her.

The grey lightning struck the shield and shattered into harmless dust as Madeleine’s orange hair flared like a torch in the dark.

"’No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper!’" (Isaiah 54:17), she proclaimed, her voice a clarion call that mended the fraying courage of the mortal soldiers. "Your silence is a lie, Void! For the Word was in the beginning, and the Word shall be the end!"

Herios seized the opening. "Herion! Forward! Do not let the saints fight alone!"

With a roar that rivaled the thunder of the Empyrean, Herios led the charge of his phantom army.

Alongside him, the Giants of the Deep lunged forward, their massive obsidian fists descending like falling mountains.

The Outer One did not dodge, it simply flickered into nonexistent, causing the giants’ fists to passed through its body as if it were a holographic projection.

In the same motion, the entity’s many eyes turned toward the giants, and a wave of Conceptual Rot washed over them.

Almost immediately, the stone-like skin of the earth-born began to crumble into grey sand.

"’Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder: the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet!’" (Psalm 91:13).

A group of Saintesses, robed in shimmering white, surrounded the falling giants as they began a rhythmic chant, their hands weaving a web of restorative light.

"Rise, children of the Earth!" one cried. "For the Lord upholdeth all that fall, and raiseth up all those that be bowed down!" (Psalm 145:14).

The rot stopped, and the giants’ skin solidified once more, their obsidian veins glowing with a newfound, sanctified purple fire.

The entity roared, causing the landscape to shift as if they were clay being molded.

The soldiers were separated as mountains formed, some drowned as rivers appeared, and some dropped to deserts!

"Stand down!" Jacob roared, pulling the chains tighter.

The outer one dropped to one knee, but the shifting landmass didn’t stop.

In the center of the shifting geography, Solomon and Medea stood back-to-back, their sorceries weaving together into a complex, multi-dimensional cage.

"The geometry is shifting, Witch!" Solomon noted, his fingers moving in a blur of arithmetic sigils. "It is attempting to redefine the distance between our surroundings and our bodies! If we don’t stop it, it will completely reshape reality!"

"Then don’t we need to just stop it?!" Medea countered, her staff erupting in a pillar of purple light.

Solomon raised his hand as the ring glowed on his fingers.

"’Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?’" (Job 38:4), he chanted as he struck the ground, and a grid of golden light locked the shifting dimensions into place. "By the wisdom granted to the sons of men, I command this space to be!"

The Outer One, feeling its freedom restricted, finally unleashed its true power.

It broke of the chains, causing Jacob to stumble back in shock.

And, it didn’t just attack, but it Inverted the light, causing the golden crosses of the saints to start bleeding black ichor, and the air grew cold enough to freeze the breath in a man’s lungs.

The entity moved like a blur of ink, appearing instantly in front of Herios as it raised a hand to touch the King’s forehead, an act that would surely kill him.

Herios’ eyes widened as he tried to defend, but before he can act, Kaerion had thrown himself between the King and the Void.

The General’s Divine Spirit form took the touch, and for a moment, Kaerion’s image flickered, his iron armor turning to grey glass.

"Kaerion!" Herios screamed, his sword igniting with a desperate, golden heat.

"’Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends!’" (John 15:13).

Those words echoed from the saint’s mouth, and surprisingly, Kaerion did not fade.

The sheer weight of his loyalty, backed by the "Holy Side" of the Empyrean, acted as a conceptual anchor, causing him to remain in reality.

Grinning, Kaerion grabbed the Outer One’s arm, his armor burning hot as if it was about to melt. "I have died once for mt King! Do you think the Void can take what has already been given to the Lord?!"

The Saint-Souls of the Empyrean joined the fray in a coordinated symphony of holiness.

Saint Sebastian, riddled with arrows of light that he pulled from his own essence, launched volleys that pinned the Outer One’s shadow to the earth.

Saint George, riding a spectral white stallion, charged with a lance made from his faith, piercing the many-eyed torso of the horror.

The Outer One shrieked, releasing a sound similar to a grinding metal and dying stars.

And then, it began to expand, its 200cm form stretching into a chaotic, multi-dimensional web of obsidian filaments.

It was trying to consume the entire battlefield, to swallow the Saints and the Soldiers in one final, entropic gulp.

Mary Madeleine raised her staff, her orange hair now a literal sun of divine fire as she began the Liturgy of the End, the ultimate chant and personification of her faith.

"’And I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse; and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth judge and make war!’" (Revelation 19:11).

The army of Herion, the Giants, and the Saints all began to glow with a unified, shimmering frequency.

It as if at this very moment, they were no longer separate entities; they were a singular, collective Instrument of the Lord.

"’His eyes were as a flame of fire, and on his head were many crowns!’" (Revelation 19:12).

Solomon and Medea channeled this collective energy into a singular point—Herios’s sword.

The King of Herion felt the weight of the ten universes, the wisdom of the King of Magic, the devotion of the Saints, and the loyalty of his General all flowing into his blade.

"For humanity!" Herios roared. "’And out of his mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with it he should smite the nations!’" (Revelation 19:15).

He struck.

The golden blade carved through the center of the obsidian web.

The "Nothingness" of the Outer One met the "Absolute Faith" of the unified host.

There wasn’t even any resistance, the entity didn’t just break, but completely dissolved into a rain of harmless, grey ash.

The indescribable horror, the True Outer One that had thought to correct the world, was unwritten by the very souls it had despised.

Finally, the darkness in the sky broke, and a single, pure beam of purple-gold light pierced through the black clouds, illuminating the battlefield.

Herios stood over the spot where the entity had been, his sword dimming, his breath heavy.

Beside him, Kaerion’s form which was already stabilized, walked over to his king, smiling in joy at being able to fight with him once more.

Mary Madeleine lowered her staff, a soft smile of peace on her face, while Solomon adjusted his robes, his expression one of grim satisfaction.

"’It is finished,’" (John 19:30), Madeleine whispered, her voice carrying across the silent, battered army.

But Solomon’s eyes remained fixed on the sky, where Gilgamesh was slowly switching up the crack.

With the crack was still there, and although the True Outer One on Earth was gone, the Great War was not yet over as the barrier between the worlds was paper-thin.

"The shadow is gone from our soil," Solomon said, his voice grave. "But those things is still holds the eraser over the book, still insistent on erasing us."

"So what? Do you think Lord Hades will allow it?" Medea snorted, crossing her arms.

In her mind, Hades was omnipotent, capable of doing anything and nothing was impossible for him.

Perhaps she was influenced by Hecate, who also hold blind faith at Hades’s abilities.

On the ground, Herios took a deep breath, and at that, humanity finally cheered for their victory.

Scáthach walked over beside him, staring at his face, "You did well."

"Of course. He is Herios." Said Medusa as she appeared beside Herios as well.

Kaerion was pushed to the side, watching the interaction.

Herios looked up, "For now, the Mortal World is no longer in danger. The rest...is up to the gods."

At that, everyone couldn’t help but look up.

Although they saved the mortal world, the fate of their reality ultimately relies on the war of the gods against the outer gods.

Whether they continue to exist or erased..

Everything now depends on the outcome of the war.