Years passed since the Battle of Herion, that fateful day when a mortal with nothing but his willpower and bruised fists had felled a giant.
The world rembered that day as the turning point of humanity—a dawn not heralded by gods, but by man.
At the heart of it all stood Herios, the First King, whose na had beco a banner, a title, a legend.
From a city born in fire and blood, Herion had grown into a sprawling kingdom.
Where once crude shelters had stood, now rose walls of sturdy stone and brick.
Farms stretched beyond the horizon, rivers were tad with aqueducts, and roads linked distant lands.
The new banner of Herios—a silver fist against a crimson sun—flew from every tower and fortress under his rule.
Tribes that once fought over scraps and territory were united under his vision. Herios did not conquer rely with blades. He ca with words, with order, with justice. He offered law and purpose to the wandering and the war-torn.
Resistance was often t, but it was brief—Herios’ strength on the battlefield was legendary, and even greater was his charisma.
He beca not just a king, but the very embodint of human aspiration.
In the center of Herion’s capital now stood the Sanctum of Hades—a grand temple, unlike anything the world had ever seen.
Carved from obsidian and adorned with silver veins, it lood tall into the sky, a monunt of gratitude and devotion.
Twin statues of Hades stood at the gates: one bearing a spear wrapped in shades, the other holding a crown, symbolizing both his divine weapons.
Beneath the temple was a great fla—the Eternal Lantern—lit with black fire that never extinguished.
It was said Hades himself had kindled it during his descent, and that the fla would burn as long as humanity honored his na.
But Hades was not the only one worshiped.
Humanity built temples for many underworld gods. Hecate, the Goddess of Magic. Hera, the Goddess of Marriage. Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, they are the three goddess that is most worshipped by the humans.
Due to their association with the underworld, the humans honored love and marriage more than the original myths.
With the goddess of marriage being an underworld goddess, humans believe that marriage will last until death, so divorce was considered a sin.
Love beca so sacred that they believed that those who are unfaithful will suffer an eternity in Tartarus.
The people did not pray to these gods in fear, but in reverence—they were seen as protectors, not tyrants.
For it was the Underworld that had recognized humanity’s strength first.
The gods above had watched. The gods below had acted.
This faith bore fruit.
Under the blessings of the Underworld, crops flourished even in poor soil, and winters were mild.
The souls of the dead were properly buried and guided. Disease was rare.
Every child knew the na Herios, and every adult aspired to beco a Hero, a title now given to those who served the kingdom with valor, courage, and virtue.
Herios, now older and clad in armor adorned with laurels of black iron and crimson silk, would often walk among his people.
He no longer fought in battles himself—his presence alone was enough to rally or ta. His council was composed of forr warriors, scholars, and seers, many of whom had once been his rivals and now served loyally.
The Kingdom of Herion extended from the great rivers of the east to the stone cliffs of the western sea.
Tribes had been turned into cities. Oral traditions beca scrolls. And across the realm, festivals were held every year to honor The Night God, as Hades ca to be known by the common folk.
One such festival, called the Black Dawn, began with silence.
People gathered at night, wearing black robes, lighting lanterns to walk through the streets in complete stillness.
At sunrise, drums roared, horns blew, and feasts were held.
Children were told the tale of how a man once punched a giant into the earth—and how the Lord of the Dead smiled upon that act of defiance.
In ti, other races—nymphs, satyrs, dryads—watched from afar, uneasy and awed. For the first ti, they felt themselves replaced in divine favor.
The gods of Olympus watched too, and with every passing year, their temples grew quieter, their influence fading among n.
But humanity did not care.
They had a king who had bled for them. A god who had blessed them. And a future they would forge with their own hands.
The Kingdom of Herion was no longer a single city or a desperate stand against monsters.
It was now the beating heart of mankind.
*
*
*
Mount Olympus.
The marble halls of Olympus shimred under the golden light of the sun, yet a palpable tension hung in the air.
The gods had convened, summoned by Zeus to address a matter that had been festering in the divine realm: the unprecedented rise of human devotion to Hades and the mortal king, Herios.
Zeus, seated upon his grand throne, his brow furrowed, addressed the assembly. "That damn Hades acted all just and honorable, warning us to leave Humanity alone. But he took action and gathered humanity’s faith behind our backs! How deceitful! He’s a hypocrite!"
Ares, ever the embodint of war, slamd his fist upon the table. "This is an affront! Mortals, our creations, now turn to the Lord of the Dead? We must remind them of our might."
Of course, the fact that it was Protheus who created humanity, or how they tried to punish humans for bearing the fla that Protheus by sending hordes of monsters was left unsaid, or rather, they completely forgot that.
In their minds, humanity was their creation, and therefore must worship them.
Poseidon, god of the seas, nodded in agreent. "Now, the faiths of those other mortal races have began to wane, we need the new race, Humanity, to provide us with new source of faith. Hades deprived our right for that."
"And the wars!" Ares slamd his fist on the table, "Those damn humans all dedicated their war campaigns to Hades, forgetting completely that I am the God of War!"
"I say we ignore Hades and eliminate humanity!" Zeus thundered, "Then, we will create another race to worship us!"
"I agree!" Ares grinned.
Amidst the clamor, Hers, the ssenger god, raised his hand, signaling for silence. "Perhaps we approach this wrongly. Instead of confronting Herios and his followers directly, why not support the human tribes that resist his rule? Empower them to establish their own kingdoms, loyal to us."
Zeus’ eyebrows rose as he leaned forward, intrigued. "Go on."
Hers continued, "By backing these tribes, we create a counterbalance. Their successes will inspire others, and our influence will be restored through their victories."
The gods murmured in agreent, the strategy appealing to their desire for reverence without direct confrontation.
Athena, goddess of wisdom, and Artemis, goddess of the hunt, sat apart from the discussion, engaged in their own conversation.
Athena doesn’t really care about faiths. As long as mortals continue to seek knowledge and wisdom, faith would naturally gather to her.
Artemis was the sa. As long as mortals still hunt for food, then she doesn’t even need their worship.
"That sounds interesting," Zeus smirked. "Well then, who agrees to this arrangent?"
"Boring. But I guess I can agree." Said Ares.
"That’s a yes for ." Heres smirked.
"I don’t care, do what you wish." Dionysus hicupped, his head down on the table, completely drunk.
The other gods also expresses their agreent.
With the majority in consensus, Zeus declared, "Let it be so. We shall extend our blessings to those who resist Herios. Through them, our legacy will endure."
Their legacy of depravity, that is.
But of course, they don’t believe that.
After all, they are the righteous and just gods in their hearts.
Reviews
All reviews (0)