Chapter 114: The Old Man of the Mountain—Death Incarnate to the Gods
Originally, this identity wasn't planned to take the stage. But since he had been summoned to the scene, how could he not perform?
Those who knew he was still alive would surely be on guard, and witnessing the slaying of Hades would only raise their alert to a higher level.
It must be said that Hades was indeed formidable. Victory was only secured because his [Instant Death] took effect—otherwise, the outcome would have been uncertain.
However, his demeanor also showed clear hostility toward the gods, especially with the slaying of Hades, a figure of great significance among the deities. This would undoubtedly incite divine wrath, perhaps even hastening the gods' desire to bring about humanity's apocalyptic punishment.
That said, knowing he wasn't aligned with the gods might ease some tension.
Yet, it was precisely because he had been summoned here that he managed to escape, bringing with him something obtained from that place.
So, tucking away the card in his hand, Renji opened the item he had retrieved—a box containing ten rings.
"Divine artifacts from that world, are they?"
Picking one up, he began analyzing it with his magic.
Like foreign electronics plugged into incompatible voltage and current, they wouldn't activate properly. Thus, he proceeded cautiously, carefully deciphering their structure and function.
Suddenly, he froze—then smiled.
That broken system had reacted.
Through these, he could establish a connection with that world.
The gods, who had just begun celebrating their victory, were stunned by Heimdall's words.
The opponent wasn't dead?
Yet, even so, the gods leaned toward one explanation: the opponent had fled.
Thus, by this reasoning, it could still be considered Lord Hades' victory.
Moreover, Heimdall, having heard someone's words, grew visibly emotional, his eyes brimming with tears—tears of joy.
In other words, it seemed victory truly belonged to Lord Hades.
However, the King of the Underworld interrupted Heimdall, declaring something that made everyone doubt their ears.
The King of the Underworld admitted defeat?
How could that be?
If he had truly lost, why was Lord Hades still alive?
"I understand."
"For a figure like Lord Hades, failing to kill his opponent in a single strike is unacceptable—thus, he considers himself defeated."
"Exactly!"
It's like a perfectionist suddenly failing to achieve perfection—to them, that is simply failure.
It's just an overly harsh demand on oneself to be the best.
However, Hades also spoke parting words to Zeus—what was that about?
This farewell didn't sound like Hades was simply returning to the underworld. It felt more like a final goodbye, one where they would never meet again. It was practically a last testament.
"What is Lord Hades doing? It's just that he failed to kill his opponent in one strike—there's no need to be so disheartened."
Ares' voice trembled with unease.
"Hermes, say something!"
He grabbed Hermes, who stood nearby with an equally expressionless face, and lifted him up.
"Don't look at me. Look at him—watch him properly and bid him farewell!"
Hermes, devoid of his usual playful demeanor toward his brother, responded coldly.
"I—I—"
Ares clenched his teeth, desperately trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes as he stared at the figure on the arena stage.
From Hades' words and tone, he had already sensed something—he just didn't want to accept it.
His pupils shrank as he noticed the black-red patterns spreading from the nearly bloodless wound on Hades' neck. It looked like a curse.
In an instant, Hades' entire body was covered in those markings.
He resembled shattered porcelain, his body riddled with irregular cracks.
The next moment, he truly crumbled—dissolving into countless motes of light that vanished into the air.
Silence—!
The entire arena was eerily still.
The humans did not cheer in victory—they stood frozen.
The gods did not roar in frustration—they, too, were stunned.
Neither side could utter a word.
"This has to be a lie! How could this happen?!"
Ares, the God of War, screamed in denial.
"AAAAAAAAAAAH—!"
He howled, unable to accept this outcome.
A proud man who rarely shed tears—this time, he wept.
His peripheral vision caught sight of the Valkyries, and a surge of fury erupted from his chest, threatening to consume his reason.
"Valkyries!!! Damn it, I'll kill them all!!!"
"Don't disgrace the gods, Ares!!!"
A voice colder than ice instantly froze Ares' rage.
Snapping back to his senses, he looked at Hermes—now a stranger to him—with a hint of fear.
"Tch. Though, I doubt that one will hold back from picking a fight now."
Hermes sighed as he spoke.
That was someone he couldn't stop. The only ones who could restrain that one were his brothers.
And if that one were to appear, Ares would surely be shocked.
After all, in Ares' memory, that one had long been slain.
Meanwhile, on the Valkyries' side—
"Si-sister... did we... win?"
Göll murmured in a daze. This victory had come far too unexpectedly.
"Yes. We won."
Brunhilde's response carried a sense of unreality.
This battle had been won in a way that defied all expectations—it felt like a dream.
This Old Man of the Mountain truly wielded such terrifying god-slaying power.
Come to think of it, what was with all that divine blood when he first appeared?
Now, as Brunhilde recalled the events, her heart palpitated once more.
Just which god had been slain?
"How exactly was Lord Hades killed?"
Reginleif, dressed in scholarly attire, was also in a daze.
Those black-red patterns spreading from the wound—were they poison? A curse?
If even a death-wielding deity like Lord Hades could be killed by it, ordinary gods would be even more vulnerable.
A mere scratch might be enough to claim their lives.
Hassan-i-Sabbah, the Old Man of the Mountain—this man was the true god of death.
Just as gods were the reapers of human lives, he was the reaper of divine lives.
The Old Man of the Mountain was humanity's god of death against the gods.
"Ah? Uh, no, this—the fourth round of the final battle between humans and gods, the victor is—Hassan-i-Sabbah, the Old Man of the Mountain!"
With Heimdall's somewhat flustered announcement, the fourth round of the Ragnarök battle came to an end.