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(Fate) Chapter 225: The Catastrophic Dragon, Typhon Emerges (3k words)
🕑 Added 2024-12-12 17:18:19 +0000 UTCAt that moment, the skies above Greece seemed to ignite in flames.
Seeing the sun flying towards the holy Mount Olympus with unstoppable momentum and rushing towards the realm of the ancient Greek gods, it was not just the sun god Helios who could not believe their eyes.
Even the God of Craftsmen and the Goddess of Beauty, who stood with Promise watching the scene unfold, widened their eyes in stunned disbelief.
“This… this can’t be happening…”
The sun god, Helios, whose face had turned pale at some point, muttered in a daze, "Those horses may be playful, but they’ve always known what to do and what not to do."
“Sun God,” The goddess of beauty Aphrodite, who had calmed down a little, looked at the sun god Helios with her beautiful eyes and said in a deep voice: “You need to think carefully about how you’re going to explain this to the god-king Zeus.”
The sun god Helios had an ugly look on his face, and there was still some sadness on his face because of Phaethon's incident.
Yet as they all looked at the sun descending toward Olympus, no one present, not even Promise, believed the worst-case scenario would actually come to pass.
Everyone believed that the sun would be stopped before it fell and hit the divine realm.
After all, the god king Zeus, wise Athena, and the other gods obviouly wouldn’t stand idly by and let such a disaster occur.
But then, a sudden shout rang out from within the grand palace.
"Wait!”
In the magnificent palace of the Sun God, some lower-level god or nymph seemed to have seen something in the sky as she cried out in surprise.
"Look! Up there! There seems to be something in the sky..It’s… it’s chasing the sun!”
By the times she finished her words, all eyes had turned toward the heavens, straining to see what was pursuing the rogue sun.
And then they saw it.
A massive, serpentine form with countless heads, its body engulfed in black flames, was racing through the sky after the sun.
"What is 'It'...?" someone whispered in terror.
(I'll use It instead of He in the original.)
The Catastrophic Dragon, Typhon, had appeared.
As the whisper rang out, everyone had already seen it.
The figure, who was previously hiding and waiting for the time to come, now revealed its colossal, crimson body of calamity—looming over the land of ancient Greece.
The moment 'It' appeared, stars and clouds either fled or were consumed.
The original blue sky was enveloped in a darkness symbolizing destruction and annihilation.
In that instant, the oppressive darkness seemed to devour everything and the sun, once capable of illuminating the world, now fled in terror, chased relentlessly.
Under the monster's pursuit, and in the astonished gazes of every Greek who looked skyward, the sun hurtled downward—crashing violently into Holy Mount Olympus.
Boom!
The deafening explosion reverberated across ancient Greece.
A burst of blinding light and a shockwave swept through the land, making the heavens and earth tremble.
The world was red.
The gods were filled with terror.
Even in the distant Sun God’s temple, the aftershocks caused the structure to quake violently as many stumbled and fell to the ground.
As for the heart of the disaster—the sacred realm of Mount Olympus—though obscured from view, everyone who witnessed the sun’s collision understood that catastrophe had struck.
After all, this was nothing less than the impact of the sun itself!
The divine domain of Olympus had been engulfed by a blazing inferno, transformed into a sea of flames.
As the gods and mortals alike struggled to process the scene, still shocked and paralyzed by the shocking events, a chilling, euphoric laughter echoed through the air.
Instinctively, everyone turned their eyes once more to the monstrous figure that had devoured the sky and heralded destruction.
“Who… who is that?”
The goddess of beauty, Aphrodite, who now had very nervous look on her face, subconsciously voiced the question that hung in everyone’s mind.
"That is Typhon,"
It was answered by a calm voice as
all eyes in the Sun God’s palace turned toward the source of the voice:
Promise, the only human present.
The latter gazed steadily at the monstrous figure from afar—a being birthed from the abyss of Tartarus that every god feared, existing solely to bring annihilation, to return everything to chaos.
"He was born in the depths of Tartarus, emerging to destroy all and reduce everything to disorder.”
After hearing Promise' answer, everyone in the palace naturally and subconsciously focused their attention on him.
To their astonishment, the boy who stood before them, staring down the very embodiment of terror that even gods feared, showed no trace of fear in his eyes.
Instead, there was a spark of excitement—a glimmer of eager anticipation.
After all, Promise had always known this day would come.
The greatest calamity of the Greek godly era was destined to descend upon this age.
And Typhon… would mark the final chapter of the young man's journey through this era.
With just a glance, he could discern the truth: Typhon was pure calamity incarnate, a walking cataclysm.
Wielding the authority of destruction, Typhon embodied annihilation and chaos.
This thing's stature and presence seemed second only to the primordial forces of creation itself.
And so, the gods and nymphs in the Sun God’s palace looked at Promise in a mix of disbelief and unease.
Though many questions and doubts swirled in their minds regarding the boy’s fearless demeanor, they had no time to voice them.
For at that moment, the earth trembled once more.
As Typhon unleashed his destructive might, driving away the sun, swallowing stars and clouds, and forcing the sun to crash violently into Olympus—chaos spread across the divine realms and all of ancient Greece.
The realm of gods was now transformed into a sea of fire that seemed to have burned everything.
However, amid the confusion and chaos, another threat emerged.
From the abyss, shadows, monsters, began to crawl forth.
However, calling them "monsters" would not be entirely accurate.
After all, they were gods—the Titans, the second generation of deities defeated by the the king of the gods, Zeus and the Olympians, long ago cast into Tartarus and bound in the depths of the abyss.
Now, after Typhon opened the gate of the abyss and took advantage of the opportunity given to it by the second-generation god Phaethon, who had usurped Helios’ role and recklessly driven the sun chariot into Olympus, 'it' used the sun to obliterate the Olympian stronghold and left the gods gravely wounded, the Titans, consumed by their fury and thirst for vengeance, were freed.
They chased after Typhon from the abyss and the dark realms of the underworld, and returned to the mortal plane.
Their colossal forms, towering like mountains, radiated power as they bellowed with rage, their voices sharp and deafening.
In this moment, the underworld fared no better than Olympus.
Hades, the Lord of the Underworld, locked Persephone in her chambers, ignoring her protests, and went alone to face the Titans.
After all, these ancient gods, consumed by millennia of rage against Olympus, had long abandoned reason.
Their purpose now was not to claim power or topple God-king Zeus’ rule.
Their sole intent on following Typhon was to vent their fury of being suppressed in the abyss—no matter the cost, even if it meant the destruction of the entire world, they would not care a slightest bit.
As the Titans rose, and the gods’ finally saw them, their expressions turned grim.
No one thought to question Promise further.
For in that instant, they all realized what was coming next.
The calamity of the divine war had arrived.
However, in this chaotic Palace of the Sun God, as the Titan gods crawled out from the abyss and the underworld bringing destruction and chaos, not all were focused on the Titans or the imminent catastrophe.
One deity, in particular, appeared utterly indifferent to the unfolding disaster.
The reason was quite simple.
Because, she herself did not have much sense of belonging to the Olympus Pantheon, even though she was one of the twelve main gods of Olympus.
Long ago, when she returned to Olympus with hope in her heart, yearning for a simple apology or some semblance of care from her mother, she was met with nothing but scorn and humiliation.
That woman broke her legs and humiliated her as her father stood by, indifferent, to whatever happened to her.
From that moment on, her heart had grown cold.
So at this moment, when the whole world was experiencing a major change and all the living beings watching this scene were panic-stricken, her eyes remained calm.
Her gaze was fixed not on the flames consuming Olympus or the Titans rising from the abyss, but on the young man standing straight and resolute beside her.
Ever since the moment, when this young man presented her with a drawing, saw her scarred face beneath the mask, and praised her for being beautiful, nothing else in the world mattered to her anymore.
“Promise.”
Seated in her wheelchair, with her golden hair cascading almost to the floor, Hephaestus smiled warmly from the bottom of her heart as she called his name.
"Finally… your dream… it’s about to come true!"
Her voice was filled with genuine happiness and Aphrodite, standing nearby, naturally overheard the conversation.
She turned to Hephaestus with a look of confusion and bewilderment, unable to understand why she would say such words in a moment like this.
Promise, too, paused for a moment before looking at her.
Looking at his goddess teacher.
Meeting her amber gaze, half-hidden by the black mask that veiled part of her face, Promise fell silent.
Then, a faint smile broke across his face.
"In fact, even I feel like I’m being far too arrogant right now,” he said softly. "Just like Phaethon, who truly believed he could command the sun chariot.”
Promise, responded softly to Hephaestus, and raised his head, his emerald eyes gazing at the monster Typhon, that seemed to be devouring the world and destroying everything.
This serpent of disaster in this world was a monster that symbolized destruction and the ancestor of all demons
"Logic tells me that the gap between Typhon and me is insurmountable. In front of it, I’m not even worthy of being called an ant—calling myself that would be overestimating my worth. And yet…”
"I’m still excited.”
The chasm between Promise and Typhon could hardly be described as the mere folly of a moth flying into a flame.
After all, here stood a mortal hero who could not win a contest of strength against a young girl.
And there loomed Typhon, a being stronger than even the king of the gods, Zeus himself, who in myth once shattered Olympus, drove out the gods, and plunged all of ancient Greece into ruin and despair.
How could Promise’s first reaction to Typhon’s arrival not be terror but excitement?
Was it not arrogance of the highest degree?
The same kind of arrogance that made Phaethon believe he could master the sun.
"That’s not arrogance,” And this was how Hephaestus, the goddess teacher of Promise, answered her one and only student.
She reached out and gently took Promise’s hand, her fingers steady and warm.
Lifting her head slightly, her amber eyes reflected his figure as she spoke with unwavering conviction.
"It’s the greatest proof of how far you’ve come.”
“For you to reach this moment, you’ve created countless miracles—feats that have astonished gods, nymphs, mortals, and every living being in ancient Greece.”
"And now, it’s time for you to reap the fruits of your journey and fulfill your dream. So… go, Promise.”
When Hephaestus finished speaking, she used a little force to pull Promise in front of her, made him squat down as she cupped his face in her hands and placed a deep, lingering kiss on his forehead.
For a moment, she gazed at the young man with profound affection, then released her hold.
Taking his hand, she placed it in the hand of another goddess who had silently arrived at some point, and was waiting quietly by her side.
This was a delicate and gentle goddess—someone who represented the path Promise had chosen in this era.
If Athena had been the one to lead him forward, always holding his hand and guiding him toward greatness, then this goddess had quietly followed behind, remaining in the shadow he cast as he advanced.
He had granted her the most beautiful fate.
And she, in turn, had forsaken an unchangeable future...and her own innate majesty (well)—for his sake.
Thus, Promise took the hand of Clotho, the goddess of fate.
Yet, as he was about to leave, he turned once more to look at Hephaestus, his goddess teacher.
"Teacher, I’m about to go.
So… in this final moment, may I ask you to remove your mask?”
This was the palace of sun god, Helios and so, it was filled with many minor gods and nymphs, all of whom froze as Promise made this request.
However, the moment Promise spoke, Hephaestus removed her mask without any hesitatiom, revealing the half of her face marked with the fiery scars that traced across her cheek.
"Teacher…”
Promise looked at her with unwavering sincerity, speaking with genuine conviction.
"Did you know? You’re truly beautiful.”
Promise’s words echoed through the hall, addressed to the goddess whom all of Olympus regarded as the most unattractive deity.
Hephaestus smiled warmly, and not for a moment did she doubt his sincerity.
She also understood why he had chosen to say this, here and now, in front of so many witnesses.
Promise was telling everyone present that his teacher was not ugly but, in fact, breathtakingly beautiful.
Yet Hephaestus herself had never cared about others’ opinions.
After all, her heart, in some ways, was small.
To her, having just one person who saw her as beautiful was more than enough.
"Well then," At this last moment, Hephaestus smiled maliciously at his student, the young man she was staring at, and asked,
"Compared to Hera? Or Athena, the goddess you’ve chosen to follow? And now Clotho, the goddess holding your hand—am I still the most beautiful goddess of all?”
Her teasing tone carried a hint of genuine curiosity, her gaze fixed on the boy she had mentored.
Hearing this, just as Promise was left momentarily flustered, unsure of how to respond.
"Pfft!”
The goddess of beauty Aphrodite, who was standing nearby, and had no idea what was going on, couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
"All right," Hephaestus said, cutting off the moment gracefully as she smiled warmly at Promise, looking at him with a soft and tender gaze. "It’s time for you to go.”
Her playful joke lightened the bittersweet atmosphere of their parting.
Promise nodded, then turned and left with Clotho, the goddess of fate, who had come to guide him onward.
As he departed, the gentle smile on Hephaestus’ face gradually faded, replaced by a quiet melancholy.
She slowly lifted her mask and placed it back over her face.
"Actually… you look very beautiful without the mask," The goddess of beauty Aphrodite hesitated for a while and couldn't help but speak.
But Hephaestus showed no interest in responding.
She simply stood still, her gaze fixed in the direction where Promise and Clotho had vanished.
After a long silence, she finally spoke in a low voice.
"In truth, I’ve always regretted it."
“Regretted that day… when I didn’t hold his hand tightly."
Her soft confession revealed a secret that no one, not even Clotho, the goddess of fate herself, had ever known.
"Because of my own feelings of inferiority, I severed the thread of destiny that connected us," Hephaestus murmured as Aphrodite froze, stunned by the revelation.
Indeed, that had been the case.
On the day Hephaestus created the celestial paintbrush for Promise, an artifact that used the sky as its canvas to etch the gods’ oaths, a thread of destiny had formed between them.
She had become Promise’s fifth most important goddess.
After all, she was his only goddess mentor.
But Hephaestus had deliberately severed that thread herself.
And the reasoning for tearing it apart was painfully simple: even though she had received Promise’s artwork and heard the praise she had longed for, she couldn’t shake the belief in her heart that she was imperfect.
She didn’t want to become a "blemish” in Promise’s life—even if, deep down, she knew this was not the case at all.
The goddess of beauty, Aphrodite stood by awkwardly, unsure of how to respond.
For once, even she, renowned as the goddess of beauty and charm, was at a loss.
By now, she understood all too well what it meant for a thread of destiny to intertwine with Promise’s.
It was something that every god envied from the depths of their hearts.
And for Hephaestus, who cared so deeply for Promise, it was clearly an unbearable regret.
At that moment, the seemingly devoured and darkened skies were suddenly illuminated by blinding flashes of lightning.
Two immense powers clashed violently, sending shockwaves across the Greek world.
The resulting storm swept through the lands, causing nearly every living being in Greece to turn their gaze toward Mount Olympus.
Staring at the brilliant bolts of lightning piercing through the darkness, they immediately understood what was happening.
The Calamity Dragon, Typhon, had begun its battle with Zeus, the king of the gods in this era.
This was a fight that no one else could intervene in and its outcome would determine the fate of the Greek world for years to come.
Meanwhile, the Titans, newly freed from the abyss and the underworld, roared with fury as they madly ascended Mount Olympus, with one objective.
To lay siege to the divine domain and launch an all-out attack on the gods of Olympus.
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