Chapter 197: Chapter 197

Keres. The goddess of violent death.

Her name alone once made souls tremble, for she was not content to simply watch the dying.

She delighted in blood, in screams, in the tearing of flesh and spirit. Eons ago, her days were spent prowling the prisons of Tartarus, tormenting the damned.

On occasion, she would slip into the overworld, unleashing massacres simply to amuse herself.

She was chaos incarnate. No law, no restraint, no respect.

When he descended into the Underworld and declared himself king, he did not do so with empty words.

He marched into every corner, from the silent fields of endless plains to the screaming pits of Tartarus, and subdued every god, spirit, and monster that dared resist.

Keres had laughed when he arrived. She thought him just another arrogant Olympian, one who would soon bleed like all the rest.

She met him in battle, claw against blade, shrieks against silence. But where she was fury, he was inevitability. Hades broke her down, stripped her strength, and left her choking on the taste of defeat.

She bent the knee, but in her heart, she plotted. She would play the loyal servant while biding her time, waiting for the moment when she could rip out his throat.

Yet as the ages passed, her hatred dimmed.

She watched him rebuild. She watched him impose order on the restless dead, turning chaos into harmony.

He did not cower from the filth of the Underworld, nor did he abandon it to rot.

He embraced it, ruled it, and gave it a purpose.

Souls found peace, punishments were just, and even Tartarus became a place of law instead of senseless torment.

Keres found herself... fascinated.

"This is how a king should be," she once whispered in the darkness of her lair, claws tapping against her chin. "Not greedy. Not soft. Not blind. A true ruler."

What began as curiosity grew into loyalty.

She no longer thought of killing him. Instead, she wanted to see how far he could go, how long he could reign, how much stronger the Underworld would become under his hand.

In time, her devotion became absolute.

Now, she kneels not out of fear, but out of choice.

And should any fool, god or mortal, dare to mock or disrespect her king, Keres smiles her crimson smile and drags them screaming into Tartarus.

After all, the prisons of the damned have plenty of room.

Keres was seething. Not with rage, but with something far worse.

Her king’s daughter, the little princess Nekyria, had been entrusted to her for the day.

Hades, in his calm authority, had said, "Take care of her for today. The others seems to be very busy."

She thought it would be easy. She had slain heroes, tortured gods, and broken armies. Watching a child should be beneath her.

Yet here she was, utterly defeated.

Nekyria was too kind. Far, far too kind.

Keres had expected a child of the Underworld, a scion of Hades himself, to embody cruelty, ruthlessness, and the iron hand of judgment.

That was what an Underworld goddess should be.

In the past, before Hades’ rule, the gods of this realm were all lunatics.

They plundered for fun, slaughtered for sport, and drowned nations in blood. Right, wrong, justice—none of it mattered. Only what amused them.

That was the Underworld Keres had grown up in. That was the world she understood.

But this child... this child was smiling.

"There, there, everything will be okay." Nekyria’s voice was soft, pure.

She knelt in the black soil, tiny hands glowing with the greenish aura of Gaia’s authority over life.

Before them lay a massive serpent, thick as a tree trunk, its scales cracked, its breathing shallow.

The beast had lunged out of the shadows, startling the princess, and Keres—ever vigilant—had nearly torn it apart with her claws before it touched the girl.

Yet now Nekyria was healing it.

Keres’ eyes narrowed, lips curling in disgust. "Princess, it tried to harm you. Why waste your power on something so worthless?"

Nekyria giggled, brushing her hair from her face as her magic sealed the serpent’s wounds. "It didn’t mean to. It was just afraid. Everything is afraid sometimes, Sister Keres. Don’t you think it deserves another chance?"

Keres nearly choked. Afraid? Deserves another chance?

Keres wanted to scream. This was not how an Underworld princess should think!

Just then the serpent rose, scales glowing faintly as its wounds knitted shut. Keres readied herself, preparing to kill it if it tried to attack.

But instead of striking, it bowed its massive head. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs N0v3l.Fiɾe.net

Nekyria clapped her hands happily and climbed atop it, hugging its snout.

The giant snake slithered forward, lifting her onto its head like a throne, and she laughed with the kind of joy Keres had never known.

Keres dug her claws into her own palm.

If she let this continue, the princess of the Underworld would grow up weak. She would grow up soft. And when the time came to rule, she would be eaten alive.

Her eyes blazed as she clenched her jaw. "No. This cannot stand."

She pointed a claw at Nekyria, who was waving at her from atop the serpent’s head. "Princess, listen carefully. If you continue , you’ll end up no different than those fools in the Overworld. Too kind, too merciful, too... human."

Nekyria tilted her head, confused. "But isn’t being kind a good thing, sister Keres?"

Keres slapped her forehead, growling. This child will be the death of me.

Finally, she threw her head back and declared, "That does it! From today, I will teach you what it means to be a true Underworld goddess! Enough playing with snakes and healing pests. You will learn how to instill fear, how to command respect, how to make the realms tremble when they hear your name!"

Nekyria blinked, then smiled mischievously. "So... like how Papa does?"

Keres froze. Her sharp teeth clenched. "...Yes. Exactly. Like your father."

But as the princess laughed again and hugged her serpent, Keres muttered under her breath, "Hades forgive me... this is going to be harder than fighting an army of gods."

She watched silently, the serpent and Nekyria playing around.

And soon, the serpent lowered its head, as Nekyria hopped down. It raised its tail, waving, as if saying goodbye.

Then, it hissed before it slithered back into the abyss, leaving only the faint sound of scales brushing over stone.

Nekyria waved both hands with a bright smile.

"Goodbye, friend! Stay safe!"

Keres, arms folded, watched the princess with narrowed eyes. Once the snake was gone, she knelt, her gaze serious.

"Princess. Enough playing. Today, we begin your real education. I will teach you how to instill fear in the hearts of men." She stood up, as Nekyria stared at her, "For now, we shall start by making mortals fear you."

Nekyria’s eyes widened, but instead of fear, she looked... delighted. "Really? We’re going to the Overworld?"

Keres nodded. "Yes. The place where humans breathe, eat, and think themselves safe. We will show them the folly of that belief."

She extended a hand, and dark flames coiled, twisting into a black door covered with chains and screaming faces.

She opened a gate leading to overworld. Any patron gods has this authority.

Without hesitation, Nekyria took her hand. "Okay! I’ll learn everything you teach me, sister Keres!"

The gates groaned open, and in a single step they left the gloom of the Underworld.

Sunlight spilled through the branches of a vast forest.

The smell of grass and flowers filled the air.

Nekyria blinked, wide-eyed, her pale skin kissed by sunlight. She spun in a circle, giggling as the breeze lifted her hair.

"It’s so bright! And warm! The Overworld really feels so alive..."

This is the first time she had been to overworld outside of her mother’s mountain! It feels so fresh!

Keres squinted, her lip curling.

"Don’t get distracted. Remember why we’re here." She straightened, her voice booming. "The first lesson an Underworld goddess must learn: robbery. You see something you want, you take it. You strike fear in their hearts so they won’t think of fighting back."

Nekyria gasped. "Robbery?"

"Yes." Keres reached into her robe and pulled out a crumpled parchment. On it, jagged black ink spelled out a script of lines. "Memorize this. These are the words you will say when you threaten your first human. Practice them until they flow naturally."

Nekyria accepted the parchment with both hands, reading aloud softly. "Hmm... ’Fear me, mortal. I am the goddess of death...’ Oh, that’s scary!"

She pressed the paper to her chest, eyes sparkling. "Alright, sister Keres, I’ll memorize it!"

Keres crossed her arms, nodding with satisfaction.

"Good. Do not smile when you say it. Keep your face cold. Cruel. ." She bared her fangs and gave a deathly grin, eyes glowing red.

Nekyria tried to mimic her, puffing her cheeks and furrowing her brows. The result was... adorable.

Keres slapped her own forehead. "...We’ll work on that."

Nekyria giggled as she took the paper and began memorising it.

After some minutes, Nekyria stood up proudly. "Sister Keres, I’ve got it memorized!"

"Good. Then it’s time." Keres’ hand sliced through the air, and the forest shimmered away.

In the distance, stone walls rose from the earth, and smoke curled from tall chimneys.

The sound of hammers, the laughter of children, and the chants of priests praising the Underworld gods filled the air.

Nekyria’s eyes widened at the sight. "A city?"

Keres’ lips curved into a sharp grin. "Herion. The world’s oldest human civilization. Established by the king of heroes and champion of Lord Hades. Your journey as the feared and infamous goddess shall begin here.x