The God of Underworld

Chapter 55 - 10: Harvest and Capture

High upon a lush and verdant mountain, a paradise bloomed under Demeter's careful hands.

Once a cold, barren peak, it now flourished with endless rows of wildflowers, golden grains, and experimental flora that hummed with divine vitality.

Bees flitted through the air, birds sang sweet songs, and the wind carried the fragrance of new life.

At the heart of it all stood Demeter, her hands glowing with gentle green light as she coaxed a new type of plant from the soil.

Its leaves shimmered like emerald silk, and its blossoms radiated warmth like the early spring sun.

Just as she leaned closer to admire her creation, a sudden swirl of purple mist appeared before her.

It drifted through the breeze like a wisp of dream-smoke, coalescing into a tightly rolled scroll.

Demeter blinked, straightened, and carefully caught the scroll before it touched the ground.

"Hmm…? This mist, it must be Hecate."

Unrolling it, she read in silence.

She was expecting a greeting. She was expecting a request. She expected many things, but this letter was not one of the many things she was expecting.

Her eyes widened.

She read it again. This time, slowly and carefully.

She didn't misread it.

It was really true!

"A plant… in the Underworld? That's..." she gasped, one hand covering her mouth, "....impossible."

Her thoughts raced. No plant, not even one of her most sacred seeds, had ever survived long in that realm of shadows.

The land of the dead rejected life on a fundamental level. And yet… this scroll claimed otherwise.

She recognized the divinity left in the scroll and knew it was written by Hades, so she knew that this wasn't a joke—Hades wasn't one to joke about serious matters.

The other reason for her surprise is that, the one who actually managed to create life in Underworld was Minthe, the nymph daughter of Cocytus!

Demeter's expression softened, surprise melting into a bittersweet smile.

Minthe. The quiet, curious nymph who had spent those years in the Underworld learning, re

He stared at them in the eyes.

"You may shackle me, chain me, bind me to the farthest mountain. It doesn't matter," he continued, glancing at the distant sky. "The fire has already been lit. You can't unburn the world."

Gaia was a terrifying figure. It is by her grace that Olympus and gods can still fight for petty soul master

The leading god scowled, signaling the others.

Divine chains, forged in the celestial furnaces, slithered like living metal around Prometheus' wrists and ankles.

A heavy collar closed around his neck, inscribed with symbols that muted divine power.

Still, he smiled.

One god, younger than the others, couldn't help but ask, "Why? Why would you risk everything for them? Those mortals doesn't deserve it."

Prometheus turned his head slightly, eyes meeting the youth's.

"Because they are the only ones who must earn their place. Not born with divinity, not gifted immortality. Every step they take is a triumph over the impossible. And in that struggle… they will surpass us all."

The gods said nothing.

With a single gesture, the air shimmered, and a portal to Olympus opened, the light blinding in its intensity.

Prometheus, bound yet unbowed, stepped forward willingly.

His punishment awaited.

But so too did the rise of mankind.