I Am Hades, The supreme GOD of the Underworld!

Time! 

To the gods, time was the least valuable thing of all. 

After all, what was the span of just a few decades? 

Seventy years passed in an instant. In the end, besides humans and the Titans' giant-blooded descendants, all other races had been wiped out, forced out of this game entirely.

This was undeniable. Or rather, it was an inevitable outcome. The essential gap between them was unbridgeable.

This so-called "race war" might be an opportunity for the gods, but in essence, it was a miracle. And to grasp a miracle was a nearly impossible feat. Because of this, in such a miraculous situation, success depended on whether one could truly seize that miracle.

For the gods, no matter how hard they fought, they couldn't grasp it. That's the nature of miracles. 

If miracles were so easy to capture, they wouldn't be called miracles. Wanting to seize one means enormous transformation is necessary. But that no longer mattered. Everything had become irrelevant. For the gods, their exit from the stage was a certainty.

There was nothing they could do. No matter who the god was, they had no choice but to bow out. A few survived, but most gods perished in this race war. In the vast mythological world of the Greek pantheon, at least sixty percent of the gods died in this conflict.

They understood this was their only chance. Even if it was just a miracle, they had no other choice, no other right. They could only gamble. They had no choice but to fight because the truth lay in front of them: without taking a risk, they'd never have another opportunity to move forward and would remain bound by predetermined fate. In the wars among god-kings, they were no more than pawns and cannon fodder, sometimes not even knowing how they died, unable to make any choice.

Despair? Helplessness? Fear?

All of it was meaningless. This was the only outcome for the gods. No matter how close the opportunity was, all outcomes had already been decided.

As for those gods who survived? They, too, might have wished to die in this race war. Since they had no other chances left, dying here would not have been a bad end. 

But in the end, they survived. And for the gods, survival meant there might still be a next time, even though they knew deep down that the so-called "next time" was more like a joke.

When? How?

Could another chance even exist? No one could say. 

But that was the future's concern. For the gods, as long as there was a glimmer of hope, they couldn't give up. This wasn't surprising. For a god, as long as there was any possibility, who would willingly surrender? 

This was an impossible notion. 

From their inception, gods were far beyond humans and other races, and now, none of them wished to die. Even though some realized that perishing in this race war might actually be a blessing, survival meant hope, and with hope, they could continue forward, waiting for whatever future lay ahead.

That was the essence of it.

What the future held, no one knew. But whatever the result, they had to press on. That was certain.

No matter what!

The race war had reached its final stage, and the gods could do nothing but watch as humans and the Titan-blooded giants became the two remaining contenders. No one knew who would win.

It was obvious, though, that determining a victor wouldn't be easy. Humanity was the protagonist chosen by the mythic world, their protection, potential, and capacity for growth undeniable.

And yet, the Titan-blooded giants had formidable foundations. This legacy proved that they, too, had a claim to the lead role, especially with the great Earth Goddess backing them.

Although the Earth Goddess had suffered many setbacks and personal challenges, it remained true that even weakened, her power was immense. She had prepared thoroughly and now had Typhon, her hand-crafted god-king, as her support.

The outcome seemed almost inevitable. 

However, humanity had the Underworld's aid and a powerful ally—the third generation's most terrifying god-king, the Lord of the Underworld. Just standing on humanity's side, with the Underworld's hidden support, this god-king was enough to face the Titan-blooded giants.

As for the god-king the Earth Goddess had created, what would he do next?

No one knew. Everyone, especially the gods, was eager to see what would unfold.

After all, who doesn't enjoy watching a spectacle?

Now that they were offstage, they could sit back and enjoy the show.

"Ah!" 

"In the end, such failure truly leaves one feeling helpless," one god sighed over his defeat.

"Could be worse. At least we survived. As long as we're alive, another opportunity might come," another god responded.

"Do you actually believe that?"

"Of course! Don't you see the mythological world is on the verge of chaos?"

"Do you really think this world will follow the script?"

"That…" 

The first god froze. 

Indeed, would the mythological world develop as originally written? 

It seemed unlikely. 

Right now, the mythological world was in total disarray, with humanity as the key player in a devastating race war.

Could the future really follow the plan? Hardly.

This was like Pandora's box; once opened, it could never be fully closed.

At the bottom of Pandora's box lay hope. And so long as they held onto that slim hope, everything became possible. The gods would never relinquish that, not in any situation.

"Maybe survival isn't so bad. We might yet see what the future holds."

"True enough. Who can say what tomorrow will bring?" 

"But one thing is certain—the mythological world is far from over."

"It's only the beginning."

"Let's wait and see."

"Indeed."

For now, all they could do was watch the final chapter of this race war unfold.

If it were to conclude simply, that would be the strangest outcome of all.

Humanity.

The Titan-blooded giants.

The final two protagonists were now locked in combat, with reconciliation impossible. Both sides thirsted for the other's destruction.

So, how would this race war end?

One side had been chosen as the protagonist of the mythological world, while the other was created by the Earth Goddess herself.

For the gods, who had already left the war, this was undoubtedly a most entertaining show.

…

On the surface world…

Footsteps sounded softly as a figure emerged step by step.

It was Typhon.

"Hehehe…"

"It seems…"

"It's finally time for the curtain to fall."

Typhon's gaze held boundless arrogance. Since birth, he had stood at the pinnacle of god-kings, carrying limitless ambition. Did he not know his mother's intentions in creating him?

Of course, Typhon knew.

But Typhon had no intention of being a mere puppet. Quite the opposite; he wanted to break free from his mother's control, to completely overturn everything.

God-king, Ancient God, Creator God… 

To Typhon, these were mere stepping stones. He wanted to rule all and become the Absolute God.

He stopped, standing still, as though waiting for something.

"Hehehe…" 

A refined laugh echoed, and an elegant figure approached him. The figure, a perfect gentleman with a faint smile, removed his hat and greeted Typhon with the grace of a true aristocrat. Yet the overwhelming divine power emanating from him proved he was more than just a gentleman.

This was Mephistopheles, one of the highest gods of the Underworld, a god-king in his own right.

"Typhon!"

"A pleasure to meet you at last!"

Mephistopheles' eyes sparkled with amusement. "Surely, you think this race war will end with your victory?"

"Hmph!"

Typhon sneered, his expression dripping with mockery. "Mephistopheles, from another mythological world, you're fortunate to have survived. You should hide and skulk, or what's the point of your schemes?" 

"Or do you believe that being Hades' lapdog qualifies you to stand before me?"

Typhon's words radiated arrogance, fully dismissing Mephistopheles.

"Hehehe…"

Instead of showing anger, Mephistopheles chuckled, replying, "Typhon, I'd say that being who I am, I'm better off than a puppet crafted by the Earth Goddess."

"Besides, I'm not interested in any of that. After hiding all these years, are you finally ready to show yourself?"

His tone was refined and polite, yet his words brimmed with biting sarcasm.

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