Deep in the fissured earth, a sturdy figure trudged through the darkness.
Kratos was now merely a vengeful spirit, driven by endless anger and pain.
Olympus had betrayed him, toyed with him, and taken everything he had left.
The rage in his chest was like unquenchable lava, burning his soul and dispelling the cold, deathly silence that belonged to the realm of ancient gods.
He didn't understand why he had come to this forgotten land—an instinctive pull, a sympathetic resonance, as if the earth itself whispered to him, calling to a hatred similar to the one within him.
Finally, he reached a vast underground cavern.
The air here was suffocatingly ancient, heavy as solid rock, yet filled with unimaginably majestic life force and resentment.
In the center of the cavern was not a magnificent palace or altar, but a huge, flesh-colored rock wall that constantly writhed.
Veins covered the rock wall like the blood vessels of a living creature, pulsating faintly and emitting a weak light.
A loud and weary female voice boomed directly inside Kratos's head, shaking the ground beneath him:
"You are here... a spirit bearing a curse as heavy as my own."
The veins on the rock wall flowed with light, vaguely forming an enormous, weathered face of the earth.
This was "Gaia", the Earth Mother Goddess, the origin of all things, but at this moment she seemed like a being drained of her essence, leaving only an empty shell of resentment.
Kratos stopped, his crimson eyes fixed on the face, without fear, only vigilance and undisguised hostility.
He had long lost the last trace of trust in the gods, especially these so-called 'primordial gods'.
"Earth?" His voice was hoarse, like sand and stone grinding together.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"Why?" Gaia's voice was almost mad with sarcasm, and the entire cavern vibrated.
"For the burning rage in your chest! For the bloody scars on my body! Look at us, Kratos, look at what we have become!"
Her voice suddenly rose, full of infinite sorrow and anger:
"I have been drained again and again by my children! 'Uranus' covers my body with the sky, forever pressing his ugliness and weight upon me! 'Cronus' castrated his father, splattering blood and... filth, contaminating my earth! And 'Zeus', my 'great' descendant who ascended the throne and established his Olympian order, has he not trampled on my spine and sucked my marrow?!"
The light on the rock wall flickered violently, showing her emotional agitation.
"I gave them life, I nurtured them to grow! I endured the tyranny of 'Uranus', helped 'Cronus' overthrow his father, even agreed to the rebellion of 'Zeus' along with his brothers! But what did I get?! Endless demands! Exploitation! Betrayal! They take my gifts for granted, treat my body as a mineral deposit to be mined at will, and mistake my silence for the cowardice of the deceived!"
Her voice was like thousands of mountains collapsing simultaneously, full of destructive force:
"Enough! Enough! I don't have the slightest illusion left about those ungrateful wolves that flow in my blood! Any kindness is cruelty to myself! I want power! Return everything that belongs to me, now!"
Kratos listened indifferently. The dirty history of these gods meant nothing to him; he only heard the key words—'power' and 'revenge'.
"What does your hatred have to do with me?" he asked hoarsely.
"What does it have to do with you?" Gaia's face contorted.
"Your hatred is aimed at Olympus, and my goal is the same! We have a common enemy, Kratos! Those gods who are exalted and think they can toy with fate forever!"
She calmed down a little, and her voice became low and full of temptation, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue:
"Cooperate with me. I will guide you and give you the power to tear apart the bodies of gods. And you, just return to me the gods you defeat. Let them sleep in my embrace, let their power return to the earth and nourish my withered body! This is a deal, a purge that benefits us both!"
Kratos was silent.
He looked at the enormous face and weighed the offer.
He didn't need friends, he only needed weapons; he needed a path to revenge.
If this ancient and resentful Earth Goddess could provide it, he wouldn't mind being her scythe for harvesting divinity.
"I need power," he finally spoke, briefly and to the point.
"Enough to kill 'Zeus', to kill 'Hera', to destroy all the power of the Olympian gods."
"You will get it!" Gaia's voice carried a note of fanaticism.
"In the most direct way, in a way that stems from the origin of my life!"
Before the words faded, the cavern shook violently!
With a horrible sound, like bones tearing from their sockets, several 'stones' the size of hills began to loosen on the huge rock.
No, they weren't stones!
They were... teeth! "Gaia" was tearing out part of her own existence, like cornerstones!
Kratos's pupils narrowed slightly as he watched this horrifying scene of self-mutilation.
"Gaia" was doing everything for power.
Roooar——!
Kratos threw his head back and let out a bestial roar, no longer suppressing the monstrous rage in his chest, accumulated from countless tragedies!
Crimson flames gushed from his body—this was true hatred!
The flames coiled around the enormous divine teeth that Gaia had forcibly torn out.
Sss...
The moment the flames touched the divine teeth, a piercing sizzling sound was heard.
The divine teeth did not melt in the flames, but began to deform. The immense life force contained within them, and the most original power of the earth, were forcibly distorted and forged under Kratos's extreme negative anger!
"Gaia" let out a low moan, mixed with pain and pleasure.
It was painful to tear apart her own divine body, but she experienced a dark pleasure in feeling the power, silent for countless years, being reactivated.
"That's it! With your hatred! Use your rage! Burn them! Forge them anew!" she roared.
"Let my pain mingle with your wrath to create a killing weapon, enough to slay the God-King!"
Kratos's entire body bulged with veins, pouring all his spirit, all his will, and all his hatred into the flames.
In his mind flashed his wife's gentle smile, the pale face of the young man he had considered his own but who had tragically died, the disgusting hypocrisy of "Zeus", and the cruelty of "Hera"...
Every memory scene was like fuel added to the furnace, making the crimson flames burn even fiercer!
In this clash of extreme emotions and power, Gaia's teeth began to merge, stretch, and take shape.
They lost their stony appearance and gradually acquired a dull metallic sheen, like congealed blood. Natural lines, like cracks in the earth, appeared on the surface, and along the lines flowed magma-red light.
Finally, the flames gradually subsided.
Before Kratos hung a terrifying, massive sword.
It was larger and thicker than any weapon Kratos had ever wielded, its entire body dark red, as if soaked in divine blood.
The hilt was like a twisted tree root and a pulsating blood vessel, naturally fitting the curve of Kratos's hand.
The blade was wide, the spine thick, but the edge flashed with a pulsating cold light—the destructive energy belonging to Kratos's wrath and Gaia's resentment.
Kratos reached out and grasped the hilt.
A brutal force instantly surged into his limbs!
This force was filled with the thickness and resilience of the earth, but it was ignited by endless rage, becoming brutal and aggressive.
He felt an unprecedented connection with the earth beneath his feet, as if he could draw upon the resentments that had slumbered eternally.
At the same time, a greedy will appeared in his mind—it was the will of "Gaia".
She urged him on, thirsting with desire.
"Do you feel it? This is power! The power of revenge!" Gaia's voice was filled with uncontrollable excitement and greed.
"Go, my blade! Go to Olympus! Go and tear them apart! Bring me back their power! I want to use the flesh and blood of my unworthy descendants to heal my wounds and reforge my glory!"
She paused, her voice growing colder and more ambitious:
"This is only the beginning... When we have cleansed these parasitic branches, in the end, we will reclaim the power stolen by Zeus! The power that should have been wielded by me, who gave birth to everything!"
Kratos did not respond to "Gaia's" vast ambitions; he simply gripped the newborn Blade of Earth's Wrath tightly.
The weight of the weapon and the power contained within it made his frozen heart feel a burning beat again.
The tools of revenge had arrived.
Goal, Olympus!
He turned and walked with heavy steps away from the depths of the earth.
This path to god-slaying was opened by the abandoned mother and the cursed son.
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