Between the thrones of Hades, Metis mentioned the world's affairs for the third time. Her fingertips toyed with a golden mist of wisdom, her tone light, as if speaking of a blooming flower:
"Ah, my dear king, have you ever noticed? The wars and clamor that have lasted on earth for countless years have finally subsided. That son of a demigod named Zeus—Alexander—has actually stitched together the known world with iron and blood. Peace... what a rare word."
Hades's eyes did not lift. His wife, known for her wisdom, never spoke without purpose.
His will quietly reached the extremely luxurious Macedonian palace.
The young conqueror Alexander lay on a couch covered with expensive purple carpets, accepting tribute and flattery from his subordinates from all directions.
He drank fine wine, his eyes sharp and bright, full of life satisfaction and a power that almost overflowed.
Hades observed this demigod.
In truth, he was not as powerful as the legends said.
The surging energy, blood, and strong physique even slightly surpassed some lesser divine powers.
But this did not make Hades feel threatened.
Beneath the appearance of strength, he was more concerned with the root.
His power silently touched Alexander's soul.
The soul... was complex, but surprisingly normal.
Within it were the pride and desire to conquer characteristic of Zeus's descendants, as well as the fragility, greed, and fear of the human soul.
Divinity and humanity intertwined, much like other famous demigod descendants of Zeus—who seemed, in essence, indistinguishable from their brothers, except for the power that almost burst the vessel of the soul.
"It seems our God-King, His Majesty, doesn't care much for this son,"
Metis had approached him at some point, leaning in to whisper in his ear, her warm breath laced with a cunning smile.
"I've noticed that the thunder of Olympus has been striking frequently towards Macedonia lately. With such frequent services, he personally cleared obstacles for his son... Zeus must really like this little guy who can bring him supreme glory."
There was a problem.
Hades was convinced.
Metis's repeated reminders were not just to tell him that Zeus had a remarkable son.
This Alexander, or Zeus's attitude towards Alexander, was itself a 'problem' to be investigated.
Since there were no more clues from the son, he would ask the father, whose behavior was becoming increasingly shameless.
Olympus, the palace of the gods.
The magnificent hall was filled with an atmosphere of joy.
Zeus was flirting with several new nymphs; the thunder scepter was carelessly set aside, and the divine wine in the golden cup was splashed on the floor, reflecting the light and shadow of pleasure.
Hades's appearance was like a piece of black ice suddenly thrown into a warm soup pool, instantly freezing all laughter.
The nymphs retreated in terror.
Zeus's pleasant interest was interrupted, obvious displeasure appearing on his face, his thick brows furrowing: "Hades! Are the affairs of the Underworld so leisurely that you have time to disturb my moment of pleasure?"
Hades ignored Zeus's complaints, his gaze fixed directly on the God-King, without pleasantries and piercing: "Alexander. Your demigod son."
Zeus was stunned for a moment, and then the displeasure quickly gave way to undisguised pride and showmanship.
He burst into loud laughter, a sound that shook the hall, as if Hades had asked a question that gave him immense pride.
"Ah! My wonderful Alexander!" Zeus stood up and spread his arms, as if wishing to show his pride to all of Olympus.
"You finally noticed him, didn't you? Look at him! He is my most outstanding creation, the perfect embodiment of my blood in the mortal world! He has accomplished a great deed that even the gods could not achieve—unifying the chaotic human world! His courage rivals Ares's, his wisdom touches Athena's realm, and his charm is admired even by Aphrodite! He is my glory and the most glorious proof of Olympus's rule in the world!"
Zeus enthused ecstatically, his eyes flashing with an almost obsessive light—this was not only a father's gratitude towards his son, but more like a collector displaying his most precious treasure.
Hades listened in silence, simply looking deeply at Zeus, as if trying to see through the facade of excitement to the true thoughts deep within.
His gaze was so deep that the elated Zeus couldn't help but feel a slight discomfort, and his voice gradually lowered.
Asking no more questions, Hades's figure vanished as abruptly as it had appeared, silently dissolving into the light of Olympus, leaving only the hall's warmth slowly returning and a flash of unnaturalness on Zeus's face.
The next moment, Hades appeared directly in Alexander's bedchamber.
The young king had just dismissed his servants and was about to rest.
Faced with Hades's sudden appearance, he showed a calm far beyond that of an ordinary man, but his pupils constricted slightly, and his hand unobtrusively touched the hilt of a sword by his pillow.
Instead of kneeling like a mortal, he straightened his back and met Hades's gaze almost as an equal.
"Lord of the Underworld," Alexander's voice was calm, with a slight, barely perceptible hoarseness.
"May I ask what you are doing? Is it for the souls of my newly united empire that have not yet rested?"
Hades ignored his question and asked directly, his tone level, as if stating a fact: "Zeus seems unusually attached to you."
This sentence was like a needle, piercing the composure Alexander had so painstakingly maintained.
An extremely complex emotion instantly flickered across his face—it was not pride at being doted on by his father, but a mixture of intense anger, deep fear, and some indescribable shame.
His knuckles whitened from the pressure, and the hand on the hilt trembled slightly.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his restless mood, avoiding Hades's seemingly all-seeing gaze.
"Attached?" Alexander squeezed this word out from between his teeth with intense mockery.
"Great Hades, what... euphemisms you use."
He paused, as if gathering his courage to speak a disgusting truth.
"Your esteemed brother, my 'Father God'," he said, adding to the pronunciation of these two words a bitterness full of pain.
"He has long tired of playing with the goddesses of Olympus, the princesses of the world, and even all kinds of nymphs and spirits. His insatiable desires need new, more exciting... 'flavors' to fill."
Alexander's voice was low, with the pain of being defiled: "Now, he looks upon his sons."
The palace fell into deathly silence.
Only Alexander's heavy breathing could be heard.
"He doesn't want an heir, not a descendant who can inherit his glory. He wants... rare... 'toys'... that allow him to experience the twisted pleasure of conquering and possessing his own creation. Collectibles." Alexander's words were like poison, spewing out word by word.
"He often comes, giving me strength and helping me overcome obstacles, not out of fatherly love, but to 'cultivate' a prey he likes. He wants me to be strong enough, dazzling enough, so that when he finally... 'enjoys' me, he gets the greatest satisfaction. Every victory of mine, every achievement, in his eyes, is just adding seasoning to the ultimate feast."
Alexander raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, and in his heart was a monstrous hatred and fear from which he could not escape.
"The way he looks at me, Your Highness Hades, is not the way a father looks at his son. It's the way a gourmand eyes the finest delicacy! I feel his disgusting 'love', from which I cannot breathe or break free!"
"I conquered desperately and became strong desperately, not only to achieve my ambitions, but also to... so that one day, perhaps, I would have the strength to get rid of him! Or... at least, when he consumes me, I could break a few of his teeth!"
He finally confessed the darkest secret weighing on his heart, his body trembling slightly with excitement and fear.
This extremely powerful demigod king, when mentioning his father-god, revealed the deepest powerlessness and despair.
Hades listened in silence, not interrupting.
For his brother... Hades was inexplicably not surprised.
If it were him, it would be normal.
Only when Alexander finished speaking, his chest heaving violently, did he slowly speak, his voice remaining level, but with the unique cold of Hades that could freeze one's soul:
"I know."
This simple phrase brought Alexander a slight, inexplicable... calm?
Hades's figure silently dissolved again, leaving Alexander standing alone in the empty palace, covered in cold sweat, as if he had just experienced a battle more brutal than any battlefield.
And Hades, returning to Hades, a deep light flickered in his eyes.
"What Alexander said is not the truth," Metis suddenly whispered in Hades's ear.
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