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As they moved through Pallas's domain, deities of lesser rank, minor rank, and even a few of major rank began to sense something wrong as they heard a voice.
A disturbance rippled through the space around them.
No matter how weak a deity was, they were still divine beings—and feeling such a disruption was unavoidable.
Reality itself felt off.
The space around them had shifted, yet everything looked the same.
"What's happening?"
"This doesn't make sense."
"Everything looks normal…"
Murmurs spread through the domain.
None of them could understand what was happening.
Then, a major god expanded his divine energy outward, probing the space around them.
His eyes widened in shock.
"Everyone—something is approaching," he shouted. "No… many beings are approaching!"
The moment those words were spoken, panic erupted.
They finally realized the truth: they were no longer in normal space.
They were trapped in something else entirely.
A hunting ground.
Fear took hold as they understood they had become prey—prey to the unknown.
They didn't know who was attacking, how many there were, or what was coming next.
Before anyone could issue another command, every deity looked up at the sky.
"Who's that?"
"I see someone!"
High above them, a man floated in the air.
A cloth partially shadowed his eyes, his golden hair streaked with green flowing behind him.
His emerald cloak billowed majestically in the wind.
Before they could react, the man raised his hand.
In an instant, it was as if the stars themselves were falling from the heavens.
Countless star-shaped attacks rained down.
Some transformed midair into weapons—spears, swords, and blades forged from starlight—while others retained their raw stellar form, crashing toward the ground with devastating force.
Some soldiers and deities hurriedly erected shields.
But many were too slow—or too weak.
Lesser gods were pierced instantly, unable to form barriers strong enough to resist the attack.
Minor gods fared better, some managing to block or deflect the strikes, while major gods withstood the assault—but even they were not unscathed.
Several minor gods were pierced or wounded as the barrage tore through the domain.
Then the stars struck the ground.
Explosions erupted across Pallas domain, turning it into a battlefield.
Causing chaos too spread instantly.
"This is war now!" a major god shouted. "Get your heads in the game!"
The surviving deities regrouped, spreading out across Pallas's domain.
"The one in the sky must be the Blind Hunter," the major god continued. "You've all heard the rumors. He's only one man—and even the army behind him doesn't seem that large."
Yet even as he spoke, he could feel it.
The enemy was drawing closer.
And with that came an unfamiliar fear among the immortals below.
All the deities felt it—because they had heard the stories.
The Blind Hunter.
The son of Kronos.
A titan so mysterious that few truly understood him.
It was said that any prey his eyes fell upon was never seen again.
There were countless rumors—most dismissed as exaggerations—but the whispers persisted.
Minor gods had vanished.
Even major gods had disappeared without a trace.
Not long ago, two major gods were simply… gone.
Few had taken those stories seriously.
But now, standing face-to-face with the enemy, knowing exactly who he was, fear began to seep into the hearts of the deities and immortals alike.
Nervousness spread quietly through the ranks, impossible to ignore.
Then, as the echoes of his voice faded, another presence emerged.
A man voice could be heard.
He was tall and powerfully built, his bronze skin marked by countless battles.
His eyes were blood-red, sharp and intelligent, as though they held the war itself.
His deep crimson hair burned like living flame, cascading down his back.
His mere presence silenced the battlefield.
Anger radiated from him as a vein pulsed on his forehead.
"They dare attack me… in my own domain, in my own palace!"
he growled.
The surviving major, minor and lesser deities turned toward the palace at the heart of the domain.
Standing unscathed amid the destruction was Pallas, Titan of Warcraft, Combat and Weapons.
The palace around him had been damaged, no destroyed—but not a single scratch marked his body.
But as Pallas forced himself to calm his raging emotions, he reminded himself of something he knew better than anyone else: he had to remain composed.
Calm.
Collected.
His mind needed to be as sharp, controlled, and calculating as possible for the battle ahead.
He looked over his men—those who had reacted too slowly, himself included—and spoke without hesitation, his voice booming across the battlefield.
"What are all of you staring at?" he demanded. "Are you not fighting for me—Pallas, one of the Twelve Great Titans? Are you powerless?"
His gaze swept across them, cold and commanding.
"Never forget who you are. Commence the attack. Let no being forget who we are—who you are, my warriors."
He paused, watching as their eyes began to burn with renewed fervor and the fear leaving them.
"Do you know what awaits you?" Pallas continued, raising his hand and pointing toward the enemy. "What stands before us is no simple foe."
Then he roared:
"It's Glory!!
Glory for me!
Glory for Kronos!!"
"Achieve victory and bring me their heads, so we may offer them as tribute to Kronos! That is the path we walk today! That is the path of Glory!!"
His voice hardened.
"So go now my men—no longer stand there like animals?! You are deities, for fuck's sake! Now—ATTACK!!!"
The fire ignited in their hearts.
Immediately they moved.
Some surged into the sky toward the man known as the Blind Hunter.
Others charged toward the approaching army.
The battlefield exploded into motion—
Only for everything to halt in an instant.
All eyes turned skyward.
A woman had appeared.
Impossibly beautiful.
Radiant.
Her presence alone stunned them into silence.
She flew toward the Blind Hunter and stopped beside him.
Then, for the first time since the battle began, his voice echoed across the field.
"Hera," he said calmly, "they are all yours now. Do it."
In the next instant, the young woman's golden hair shimmered as an overwhelming wave of divine energy erupted from her body.
The power surged outward, crashing down upon the battlefield below.
Hera had entered her divine form.
——
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