Hey guys, author here!
I just wanted to let you know that I'm back—for now.
The reason I haven't been uploading chapters is that I've had to focus on school, and I also got a job, so I didn't really have the time. But I've finally started my summer vacation, which means I can begin uploading again.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be focusing on uploading here on Webnovel and will no longer be uploading on Patreon for the time being, as I feel I can only focus my attention on one platform. As for my Patreon, I plan to focus on fanfiction there, while my original novel will be uploaded here on Webnovel.
There will be four chapters per week, and I'm also introducing something new:
● 100 Power Stones — 1 bonus chapter.
● 200 Power Stones — 1 additional bonus chapter (2 total).
● 500 Power Stones — 2 additional bonus chapters (4 total).
So that's how it'll work.
Anyway, I won't take up any more of your time.
Enjoy the chapter!
——
The major gods rushing toward Hera felt it instantly—the way gravity no longer favored them.
Each movement grew heavier, denser, as though the sky itself pressed down upon their bodies.
Still, in defiance, they continued forward, flying—though now at a visibly slower pace.
Slow enough for Hera to clearly react.
Even through none of them had entered their divine form.
Thanks to that and her technique, made it all the easier too counterattack.
Hera raised her hand once more, and something new manifested—something she had learned, refined, and ultimately mastered under the guidance of Asteria, the Titaness of Stars.
Blades of pure starlight materialized behind each of the charging gods.
In the same instant, the blades pierced forward—straight through their backs—emerging from their chests in a radiant burst.
Ichor sprayed from their mouths.
"You bitch—!"
"Damn you—!"
Hatred burned in their eyes as they glared at Hera, fury overtaking reason.
Finally, pushed past their limits, the seven of them erupted into their divine forms.
They vanished in a flash.
Blitzing toward her.
But before any of them could strike—
Starlight swords rained from the heavens.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
The battlefield became a storm of luminous steel, forcing them to halt, twist, and desperately evade.
Every step forward became a fight for survival.
Hera glanced behind her.
Aetherion stood there, smiling calmly.
"Keep going," he said. "No need to look back."
She returned the smile—small, confident.
Then—
She felt it.
One presence.
Directly in front of her.
The seventh major gods had broken through the rain of starlight.
They were already there.
But Hera did not flinch.
Before the seventh could even raise his weapon, chains of starlight snapped into existence, binding his arms mid-motion.
In the same breath, swords, spears, and countless star-forged weapons pierced his divine body.
Ichor spilled freely.
Hatred filled his eyes.
Hera with a smile on her lips simply spun her body.
Her heel crashed into his face with terrifying force, sending him flying kilometers away, smashing through the battlefield.
"That was easy,"
she said lightly.
And it truly was.
Starlight was not something she had learned from Asteia alone.
Aetherion —her brother—had taught her its sharper applications: timing, control, precision.
How to make starlight not just beautiful, but lethal.
She liked it.
Very much.
Rain of weapons.
Absolute dominance.
She felt it suited her very well.
For a moment, she felt like a queen of the starry sky in the truest sense.
Her smile widened—just a little too much.
Below her, fear spread across the enemy ranks.
Then—
She noticed something strange.
Pallas had not moved.
He stood there, watching.
Unaffected.
"…As expected,"
Hera muttered quietly.
He was too strong.
Her laws worked perfectly on those beneath her—and partially on equals—but someone like Pallas could not be bound so easily.
Her commands were best tools of war, meant for armies.
In a true one-on-one battle, they were… trickier.
She glanced to the side.
Nike and Kratos had both entered their divine forms, battling the remaining major gods with overwhelming force.
'Good.'
Turning back to the battlefield, Hera raised her voice towards the small army behind her.
"Advance! Attack now!"
No hesitation.
She surged forward, flying straight toward the god she had just sent crashing away.
'We need to end this quickly,'
she thought.
Time was the enemy.
If this domain of Aetherion suffered too much damage and energy leaked, reinforcements would come.
That could not be allowed.
Power flared.
She invoked her Rainbow Authority, combining it with starlight—layering speed upon speed, brilliance upon brilliance.
In an instant, she vanished.
Then reappeared—
Right in front of the wounded major god.
His regeneration lagged.
"Too slow."
Hera raised her sword.
And brought it down.
His arm was severed in a clean arc of light.
"Aaagh—!"
His scream tore through the battlefield.
Hera did not slow.
***
As the battle raged around them, Aetherion focused on a single figure—one titan.
Pallas.
His attention never wavered from him, watching every subtle movement.
Pallas appeared strangely calm.
He said nothing.
He did nothing.
Even as the battlefield erupted into chaos, the two of them merely observed one another and the battlefield around them.
They were waiting.
Waiting for the other to make the first move.
'He's… observant,'
Aetherion thought, a hint of surprise in his mind.
He had expected Pallas to be different—perhaps reckless, angry or arrogant.
After all, his domain was under attack.
From what Aetherion had heard, Pallas was thoughtful, strategic—but he had never seen him in battle.
No one truly had.
Only some information from Styx herself.
They all knew he was powerful, but how powerful?
And apparently from what Styx had said to him, Pallas was apparently a bit of an hothead?
And yet… he didn't appear such?
Those were still an unanswered questions.
This calmness unsettled him.
To remain so composed while one's palace burned, while war erupted at one's doorstep—it wasn't something a normal deity would do.
Especially not a Titan of Warcraft.
Pride alone should have driven him into action.
Yet Pallas only watched.
As if measuring everything.
As if planning.
Aetherion didn't like it.
He didn't like the way Pallas observed the battlefield as though it were a board, every piece already accounted for.
The silence felt heavier than rage.
'Enough.'
Aetherion made the first move.
He enhanced his body—life force surging through him as starlight and moonlight wrapped around his form.
In an instant, he vanished.
And reappeared directly in front of Pallas.
No hesitation.
No restraint.
Aetherion threw a punch with everything he had.
Pallas's eyes widened—just slightly—as he reacted to the sheer speed of the attack.
He raised his arm to defend.
Boom!
The impact sent Pallas flying backward, the force rippling through the air.
And just like that—
The battle between Pallas and Aetherion had finally begun.
Aetherion wore a small smile as, without hesitation, he followed the flying Pallas, who had been sent hurtling through the air.
In an instant, he was upon him again, twisting his body and aiming a powerful kick toward Pallas's lower abdomen.
But before the strike could fully land, Pallas smiled—a smile filled with excitement for the battle ahead—and allowed the kick to connect.
Instead of being sent flying, Pallas reinforced his body with divine energy and caught Aetherion's leg mid-strike, his grip firm and unyielding.
Aetherion's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
Taking advantage of the moment, Pallas swung a punch toward Aetherion's face.
Aetherion reacted instantly, raising his arm and reinforcing it with the divinity of Earth, hardening his fist and forearm to block the blow.
But it was a feint.
Pallas shifted his attack at the last second and drove his fist into Aetherion's lower abdomen.
The impact landed cleanly.
Aetherion spat slightly as the force rippled through him, but a crooked smile still formed on his lips.
"Ah… you bastard,"
Aetherion muttered, clearly enjoying the exchange despite the pain.
Pallas returned the smile.
Still gripping Aetherion's leg, he spun his body and whirled him around, then released him violently, sending Aetherion flying through the air.
As Aetherion was hurled away, Pallas was already moving.
A spear materialized in his hand, divine energy surging through it as a crimson glow wrapped around the weapon.
"Take it punk,"
Pallas growled in excitement.
Without hesitation, he threw the spear, launching it straight toward Aetherion with lethal intent.