Chapter 175: Chapter 20
The Underworld.
Hades’ Fortress.
Unlike the currently chaotic overworld, Hades’ fortress was quiet, the dim lantern-flames along its obsidian halls flickering with a steady, patient glow.
Hera, as one of the twelve Patrons of Hades, walked with her usual regality, though the storm of Olympus still weighed on her mind.
Her sandals echoed against the marble floor as she approached the dark, looming doors of Hades’s office.
She composed herself, lifting her chin, and with a single push, opened the door.
And froze.
Her eyes widened, almost popping out of her head at the sight before her.
Aphrodite sat on Hades’s lap, facing him, her silken hair spilling across his chest as she leaned close, speaking in a sing-song voice.
Hades, for his part, looked utterly exhausted, his purple eyes heavy, but his hands rested at her hips nonetheless, steadying her absentmindedly as he listened.
The air grew sharp. And Hera saw red.
Without a second thought, she stormed forward, grabbed Aphrodite’s delicate arm, and yanked her off Hades’s lap with surprising force.
Aphrodite stumbled back, glaring at Hera with venom.
"What the heck!?" she spat, her voice laced with indignation. "Have some tact! Can you not see we were having a private conversation?!"
Hera’s face twisted into fury, her tone sharp as steel. "Private conversation? Don’t make me laugh, you shameless harlot! Keep your filthy hands off Hades!"
Aphrodite scoffed, her lips curving into a mocking smile.
"Oh, please. Hades doesn’t seem to mind it at all. In fact," she tilted her head slyly, brushing her hair back, "I’m pretty sure he’s enjoying it."
Hera bristled, her fists clenching at her side.
"Liar. Can you not see it? He looks utterly annoyed." Her piercing eyes shifted to Hades. "Tell her Hades. Don’t always indulge in the whims of a fool."
"You bitch!" Aphrodite glared at her, "Tell her my lord! You enjoyed my company right!?"
A heavy silence fell, the tension thick as chains. Both goddesses turned their burning gazes toward Hades, waiting for his words.
The Lord of the Underworld sat motionless on his seat, eyes half-lidded as though he’d rather be anywhere else.
His hand slid from his chin, fingers brushing his temple as he let out a long, weary sigh.
He did not look at either of them. Instead, his calm, low voice rumbled through the room like distant thunder.
"...Did something happen, Hera?"
Hera’s chest heaved with restrained fury, her knuckles still white from gripping Aphrodite’s arm, but Hades’s calm, tired question pierced through her storm.
Her rage faltered, and she remembered why she had come in the first place.
Straightening herself, she smoothed her robes, reclaiming her composure.
"I came to report urgent news from the Overworld." Her tone was still edged, but steady. "Athena and Poseidon have crossed blades. Their auras are clashing violently even as we speak. If this continues unchecked, Olympus will be dragged into a civil war."
The room grew heavier. Aphrodite arched a brow, clearly annoyed her little game was interrupted, but she quieted—though not without a smug smirk, as if daring Hera to continue being self-righteous.
Hades finally lifted his head, shadows deepening around his seat. His purple eyes opened fully, the weight of the Underworld pressing in as he regarded Hera.
"Athena and Poseidon..." he murmured, voice quiet but resonant, like the rumble before an earthquake. "Olympians...always causing trouble... What of Zeus? Is he not stopping them?"
Hera’s shook her head. "I don’t know. He probably already noticed, but I came to inform you before I can know his plans."
Hades nodded as he looked up, his gaze seemingly piercing through infinite dimensions.
A moment later, a flicker of amusement tugged at the corner of Hades’s lips—though it was devoid of warmth.
"Typical of Zeus. To let the world burn so long as his own temple stands."
Hera looked confused, but since Hades didn’t speak further, she didn’t ask.
Instead, she stepped forward, urgency plain in her eyes. "If the mortals are harmed, you must intervene, my lord. If this escalates, it will force your hand regardless. The balance cannot hold if Olympus falls into chaos."
Aphrodite chuckled lightly, brushing imaginary dust off her dress as she leaned lazily against the throne.
"Or perhaps..." she said sweetly, "we let them destroy each other. Fewer Olympians to meddle in our affairs, fewer the problems... don’t you think?"
Hera snapped her gaze toward her, her fury rekindling. "Silence, you wretch. This is no game!"
Hades raised a hand, and both goddesses fell quiet instantly under the oppressive weight of his aura.
He leaned back into his seat, shadows curling lazily around him like serpents. His expression was unreadable, but his voice carried the weight of inevitability.
"Hera," he said evenly, "prepare yourself to intervene if necessary. But first... tell me. Is Demeter still in the mortal realm?"
Hera, already standing straight with her hands clasped in front of her, answered without hesitation. "Yes, she is. Though she was already preparing to depart back to Underworld."
Hades gave a slow nod, closing his eyes briefly in thought before opening them again, their darkness glinting with resolve.
"Contact her. Ensure she does not leave just yet. Athena and Poseidon cannot be allowed to spill their quarrel onto the mortals. If either of them dares disrupt the balance, Demeter is to act immediately. Make sure she understands this."
"Understood," Hera said firmly, bowing her head with regal poise.
She turned toward the door, already preparing to carry out his orders.
But before leaving, she paused mid-step. Her sharp eyes flicked toward Aphrodite, who was still lounging near Hades as if nothing had happened.
Hera’s lips curled into a sneer, her voice sharp as a blade.
"And you," she hissed, "keep your hands to yourself."
Aphrodite lifted her chin and gave a derisive snort, folding her arms under her chest.
"Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Hera. You might wrinkle." Her smirk was wicked, deliberately provoking.
Hera’s glare could have melted stone, but she refused to give Aphrodite the satisfaction of a reply.
With a swish of her gown, she exited the chamber, her footsteps echoing down the dark corridor of the Underworld.
Left behind, Aphrodite turned her gaze back to Hades, her tone playful, though her eyes gleamed with mischief. "My, my... she’s awfully possessive, isn’t she?"
Hades didn’t so much as glance at her.
"Do not test her, Aphrodite," he said calmly, his eyes already fixed on the distant turmoil above. "... she’d really strangle you if you push her too hard."
"Ooh, I think I’d enjoy that."
"..."
Hades sighed.
As expected, Goddesses of Beauty are not right in the head.
*
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Underworld.
Hera’s Temple.
Hera’s heels clicked sharply against the polished obsidian floors of her temple’s corridors, her divine presence making the torches flicker as she passed.
Every step she took was laced with simmering rage, though her face remained carefully composed, as befitting one of the Twelve Patrons of Hades.
But inside, she was seething.
That harlot. Sitting on Hades’s lap as if she belonged there. Talking so cheerfully, her voice like sweet poison dripping into his ears.
And Hades—her brother, the most dignified and most noble of the gods—had allowed it.
His hands on her hips, no matter how tired and indifferent his expression... Hera clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms.
Aphrodite... The very name made Hera’s chest burn. That goddess had no respect for order, no shame in flaunting her charms, and no sense of restraint.
Of course she would try to cozy up to Hades. She could never resist stealing what wasn’t hers.
"You better keep your hands to yourself," Hera muttered under her breath, replaying her own words, though she wished she had dragged Aphrodite out by her hair.
She imagined tearing that smug smile off her face, imagined grinding her foot into the goddess’s perfect beauty until she begged for mercy.
Hera’s pace quickened, her gown swishing as she emerged into the chamber of communication, where divine spirits channeled messages across realms.
Even as she prepared to call Demeter, her thoughts kept circling back to the image of Aphrodite perched on Hades’s lap.
The way she leaned forward, the way she smiled, the way her eyes sparkled at him.
Jealousy boiled in Hera’s veins like molten iron. No. Never. Hades belongs to no one, but if anyone thinks they can stake a claim on him, it will not be Aphrodite.
’Over my dead body.’
By the time she placed her hand on the obsidian scrying mirror to summon Demeter’s presence, her divine aura was radiating so fiercely that the spirits around her dared not speak, staring at her with wide, fearful eyes.