The Villain of Ancient Greece

Within the dark, damp tunnels beneath the earth, Lorne surveyed the maze of branching paths before him.

The heroes were nowhere in sight, and his brow furrowed slightly.

They were all adults.

Every one of them was responsible for their own choices.

Though a guide to these men, he was no wet nurse; he could not shield them from every folly.

However, that being said, while the other god-blooded heroes were expendable if necessary, Heracles and the Dioscuri were directly bound to the Fate he was contesting against Zeus.

He could not afford to lose them here.

Lorne steadied his mind, extending his perception outward like a rising tide to scan for the divine signatures of Heracles and the Spartan twins.

Fortunately, the two wore specialized Cloths forged in the Sanctuary.

Even deep within this sunless abyss, Lorne could still catch the faint, lingering resonance of their presence.

Yet their divine aura was currently entangled with a chaotic, violent horde of dark energies.

They were already locked in combat with the underground Gigantes, and their situation was dire.

Lorne wasted no time.

Harnessing the god-speed of the Capricorn, he shot forward through the tunnels like a streak of light.

He had barely covered a few dozen paces when his surroundings shifted violently.

Across a churning lake of crimson and black sludge, an amorphous, jet-black cube twisted on its axis.

Crimson, arcane glyphs crawled across the surface of the dark vessel, radiating an oppressive atmosphere of death, malice, and primal fury.

A ruined world unfolded before Lorne’s eyes: the star-lit sky was gone, replaced by a dark, void-like celestial body fringed with swirling currents of red and black mud.

The abyss poured endless malice onto the scarred earth below, devouring every trace of light.

As the mud in the lake churned, countless withered bones and ancient remains drifted to the surface—among them winged Nymphs, heartless Titans, twisted golden corpses, and headless bronze giants.

”My, my... what an extraordinary guest has arrived.”

A silvery, bell-like laugh echoed across the dark waters.

A captivating maiden stood atop the lake, her amber eyes blinking as she studied the visitor invited into this dead realm.

Her pink tongue flicked across her lips, her gaze growing feverish.

”You smell... delicious.”

An unnamed axe-sword split the darkness with a flash of crackling lightning, severing the heads of two Gigantes.

Yet the headless corpses did not fall.

Crimson-and-black divine light erupted from their severed necks, pulling the fallen heads back toward the wounds.

With a sickening squelch of squirming flesh, the two giants were restored in an instant.

Roaring in fury, they swung stone-encrusted arms and surged back toward the hero who had dealt them death.

Heracles frowned.

Relying on sheer instinct, he swung his axe-sword in a continuous flurry, parrying the heavy blows.

Deafening clangs, like iron smashing on iron, detonated within the narrow cavern.

Loose stone rained down as the tunnel trembled, on the verge of collapse.

Carving a path in the opposite direction, the Dioscuri surveyed the dozen or so wounded demigods behind them, their faces darkening.

In this domain, the Gigantes were empowered by the earth itself, drawing an endless supply of divine essence.

Here, they were virtually immortal!

The mortal heroes, each inheriting different bloodlines and talents, were ill-suited for the sunless dark.

Ambushed by the regenerative monsters at every turn, their casualties mounted, and they were rapidly losing ground.

Their best option was to retreat to the surface, regroup, and leverage human tactical coordination to turn the tide.

Yet escaping was far harder than entering.

The passage behind them had closed, and the paths they had taken no longer matched their memory.

The living subterranean earth shifted continuously, altering its layout to trap them alongside the Gigantes.

This is bad...

The Spartan twins exchanged tense glances, glaring in frustration at their foolish companions.

Realizing their recklessness, the demigods lowered their heads in shame, crowding tightly around Heracles and the twins as they searched for an exit.

”There’s wind up ahead!” a descendant of Hermes called out, pointing toward a pitch-black fork to the left.

If air was flowing, it might lead back to the surface.

The twins hesitated, looking back at the gathering shadows of Gigantes and the tiring Heracles.

Gnashing his teeth, Castor barked:

”Lightly wounded on the outside, heavily wounded on the inside!

Watch the stone walls—don’t get too close! Move!”

The demigods formed a defensive box and followed the Dioscuri into the side tunnel.

Of the thirty-plus heroes who had dived into the abyss, a third had already fallen to ambushes.

After such a grim lesson, even the most arrogant demigods understood that cooperation was their only chance at survival.

Once the last hero slipped through, Heracles—holding the rear—raised his arm, wrapped in golden lightning, and slammed his fist into the cavern wall.

BOOM!

With a heavy detonation, shattered stone rained down, filling the passage and blocking the pursuers.

Heracles grunted in dissatisfaction.

He had intended to collapse the entire cavern, and the divine energy he unleashed should have sufficed, yet the result fell short of his expectations.

Some unseen force deep within the earth was suppressing the starlight and thunder of the sky, limiting his power.

Mother Gaia... do you truly favor these vile creatures?

Heracles muttered under his breath.

Seeing the rubble begin to shift and sink, he swung his axe several more times to pile on more debris, slowing the giants down.

At his companions’ call, he turned and rejoined the formation.

The moment his massive frame cleared the threshold, the entrance sealed shut behind him.

In the darkness, the Apollo-worshipping Dioscuri channeled their divine light to illuminate the path.

A scion of Hermes and a devotee of Artemis took the lead, scouting for traps and tracking the air current.

Heracles took his place at the rear, guarding the flanks against surprise attacks.

Intimidated by their tight formation and the presence of Heracles, the Gigantes held back, hovering in the shadows.

Yet as time stretched on, the eerie silence only deepened the twins’ unease.

”Light ahead!” the scout from Hermes called out.

Relief washed over the group, and they quickened their pace.

A hundred paces later, the tunnel opened up and a vast, subterranean expanse stretched before them. Eleven grand temples forged from

black volcanic stone stood upon the plains, arranged in a wide ring around a colossal central tower.

The central tower bore a glowing emblem of a sickle, radiating a sinister crimson light in the dark.

Similarly, the surrounding temples were carved with ancient symbols: an hourglass for time, waves for the ocean, flames for light, a book for memory, and scales for justice.

Some of these divine emblems glowed with vibrant crimson life, others were dark and lifeless, while a few flickered with a resistant, golden sheen.

Yet all were bound together in this dark place.

Blue-white flames flared from a chasm that seemed to lead straight to the Underworld, encircling the eleven temples.

The eleven flickering divine emblems resembled pearls strung forcibly together, forming a burning crown beneath the earth to safeguard the central tower.

An ancient, suffocating pressure washed over the heroes.

Standing at the cavern entrance, they felt as though they were plunged into the deepest ocean or thrust into the void of space.

Their breathing faltered, and their senses began to numb.

CLANG!

Heracles struck his axe-sword against the cavern wall with a deafening screech.

”Wake up!”

His roar echoed like a lion’s bellow, shocking everyone back to awareness.

”Something is wrong up ahead! Fall back!” Heracles warned, his eyes fixed on the temple complex with rare trepidation.

He recalled the words of his mentor, Perseus: before Olympus ruled the world, Cronus, King of the Titans, was the sole sovereign over creation. Unlike Zeus, Cronus ruled as an absolute autocrat; the heavens, the earth, the underworld, and the oceans were under his domain.

The other eleven Titan gods were forced to bow to his will, like jewels set upon his crown.

Though Cronus and his Othrysian pantheon had been cast down in the Titanomachy, as immortal primordial beings, the Old Gods could still return.

The eleven temples surrounding the central tower and the flickering emblems above them pointed to a terrifying reality.

The Gigantes were performing a ritual.

A ritual to recall the Old Gods and welcome the return of the Titan King, Cronus!

If this was the site of the ritual, then they...

Heracles went rigid, his face turning pale.

”Retreat! Now!”

”What is it?!”

”It’s a trap! This isn’t an exit—it’s a sacrificial altar!” Heracles spat, staring darkly at the subterranean complex. ”We are the sacrifices prepared to break the Titans’ seal!”

Horror struck the group.

The Titans had been sealed by the Olympian gods.

As demigods carrying Olympian blood, they were the ultimate catalyst to shatter the ancient bindings.

Squinting into the dim light of the plaza, several sharp-eyed demigods spotted dozens of drained human corpses lying before the Titan temples and cold sweat broke out on their foreheads.

”It’s our fallen companions!”

Seeing the grim fate of their comrades, the heroes swallowed hard as they turned and sprinted back toward the tunnel.

Yet after a few paces, they found the entrance replaced by solid, icy stone.

To make matters worse, the subterranean plain behind them began to tremble.

Dozens of massive, towering Gigantes emerged from the earth, wielding stone cleavers and war hammers as they marched forward with cruel sneers.

”O Great Zeus, shield me with Your majesty!”

Seeing the giants close in, Heracles chanted a solemn prayer, pushing his divine essence to its absolute limit.

Raising his axe-sword, he swung his thunder-wrapped arm nine times in a fraction of a second.

Overlapping afterimages ripped through the air and split the stone, crashing into the advancing giants.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Yet amid the metallic explosions, the Gigantes merely stumbled back a few steps.

Under the horrified gaze of the demigods, the monsters stood firm once more, their shallow wounds closing instantly as they resumed their stride toward the cave.

Seeing the crimson aura enveloping the Gigantes and the matching emblems igniting above the Titan temples, Heracles’s heart sank.

A divine blessing... the Titans have answered their calls.

”Immortal!”

”Immortal!!”

”IMMORTAL!!!”

Empowered by the emblems, the Gigantes roared in fanatical fervor, surging forward to drag the helpless lambs from the cave and offer them to their ancient lords.

Cornered, the heroes bared their teeth in desperation.

”If we’re going down, we’re taking these bastards with us!”

”Spill their blood!”

”Together!”

Schwinging blades echoed through the crowd as faint threads of divine aura ignited—small as fireflies, yet bright as stars.

As heroes, they could be reckless, arrogant, or flawed, but they would not let cowardice consume them.

In this brutal age, life was as fragile as dust.

But to those who fought, fate granted a final stand!

Javelins flew, light-arrows split the air, and shortswords slashed in unison.

Not a single hero shrank back; every man poured his remaining courage and strength into the fray.

Yet after a barrage of clanging strikes, the Gigantes remained unharmed.

The courage of the weak could not bridge the chasm of absolute power.

Faced with falling hammers and sweeping stone blades, the heroes fought through their despair.

Refusing to yield, they surged out of the cave behind Heracles and the Dioscuri, charging straight toward the Titan temples on the plain.

If the Old Gods wanted them as blood offerings, they would shatter their teeth first!

The Gigantes paused in surprise, then flew into a rage, bringing their massive weapons down upon the mortals who dared defy divine power.

Just as the crushing shadows fell over the heroes, a low, ethereal voice echoed from the darkness above:

”Found you at last...”

The cavern ceiling above the Titan temples shattered.

Brilliant, blinding white flames poured downward, accompanied by a surging wave of raw ether.

The three Gigantes at the front were struck first.

The crimson aura surrounding them was instantly snuffed out, and their bodies dissolved into ash in a heartbeat.

Even the drifting cinders were decomposed instantly, stripping away any possibility of regeneration.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The blinding white flames exploded in all directions, raining down upon the surrounding Gigantes like a meteor shower.

”AGGGHHH!”

Struck by the radiant flames, the subterranean monsters burned like oil-soaked tinder.

Their hides split and their flesh scorched as they thrashed on the ground in agony, trying desperately to extinguish the terrifying fire.

”Move! What are you waiting for?!”

A figure wrapped in golden wings, wielding a spear like a gnarled branch, pointed up toward the hole in the ceiling.

Seeing the breach to the surface beginning to shrink, the madness in the heroes’ eyes faded.

Chilled to the bone, they hauled up their wounded comrades and leapt out of the cursed underground plain, soaring toward the light above.

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(End of the Chapter)

P.S: The Patreon run is seventy Chapters ahead of this one, if you’d rather read it there:

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