Terra Parade

The heavy scent of incense made Hades wrinkle his nose. He looked up and once more glanced at the enormous gate rising high above him.

Dawn was approaching.

According to the parade protocol arranged by the masters of ceremony, the Underking would first speak on behalf of divine authority, followed by the Pale Lord—at any rate, there would be speeches. Then everyone would march once around the long plaza before heading to the battlefield.

He had never liked draping matters in excessive words. Hades preferred simplification, minimizing computational expenditure wherever possible, but to others, his simplification might have seemed overly blasphemous.

Hades lowered his gaze.

This might have been somewhat formalistic, but it was necessary. In this world, honor and loyalty often outweighed gold and were more precious than life itself.

He would reward the soldiers, give swords to the brave, encourage cowards to raise their guns, and witness mortals slay dragons.

Beyond the gate stood a long procession. Every one of them might face Chaos directly. They would become ants piled beneath the False God's throne, dragging down the gods with their own bodies.

Even the Underking or the God-Emperor... could not complete the path of godslaying alone. They could grievously wound It and make It suffer—but they could never eradicate the sprawling Chaos by themselves.

This would be an unimaginable war, but they had to seize this rare opportunity.

All he could do was win at the smallest cost, stripping away personal interests. On the battlefield, no one could be the sole player.

Outside the gate, a mournful wind howled through the night.

Hades clenched his fists, his chiseled face expressionless. He was ready.

He stood there like a single block of Blackstone wrought by nature's divine craftsmanship. He ignited lightning, and fine silver dragons crawled over his