CHAPTER 121: PRINCE OF DARKENSS

"Kael... Kael, are you okay?"

The voice reached him first—familiar, trembling. Liz.

His eyes dragged open, heavy and dazed. Pain pressed down on him, sharp and constant, leaving his body limp and unresponsive. He tried to move, but nothing answered.

Her voice came again, softer this time, choked with worry. "Please... answer me."

He wanted to. His lips parted, but no sound followed. Only a ragged breath.

Darkness stretched around him. No walls. No ground. Just a weightless void. He wasn’t standing—he was floating.

Shapes shifted at the edges. The dead. Countless hollow eyes fixed on him, silent and watchful, drifting closer as if called.

Her voice cracked through the silence again. Close, yet impossibly far.

"Kael..."

"Oh... hey, sunshine. Did you make it out safe?" His voice dragged out thin. Every word scraped his throat, leaving him weaker.

"What happened? I’ve been trying to reach you for days."

He almost smiled, though it hurt. Days? It felt longer than that. Years.

"I was... doing god stuff." A dry, bitter laugh scraped out. "And I’ll tell you this—I liked my life better when I was homeless, scraping by in the slums."

"At least back then, the only thing chasing me was hunger, not monsters born to tear the world apart. Or gods."

"Stop messing around. The waters of the Styx are dropping—faster every moment."

"I’m not messing around," he muttered. His lips barely moved, breath shallow, eyes half-closed. "I’m trying to save the world from a big, scary monster..."

"What monster?" Liz’s voice cut through, sharp with fear.

"He’s a monster." The word scraped out of him, his jaw tightening as if the name itself cut.

"Typhon." The name slipped from his mouth rough and heavy, each syllable dragging.

On the other end, Liz went quiet. He could hear her breath catch, sharp in the silence. When she finally spoke, her voice shook, low and strained.

"Kael... you have to get out of there. He’s so strong the Olympian gods couldn’t kill him. They had to work together just to seal him away."

A thin smile tugged at his lips, more pain than humor. His fingers twitched weakly at his side, as if even the thought of running was a joke.

"Well... he seems to hold an extra grudge against Hades." His breath dragged, rough and shallow. "Because he’s the one behind it all—the killing of Hades’s children."

Then it hit him.

"That’s why the gods didn’t want me here," he rasped. His voice was raw. Each breath dragged rough, ribs aching under his hand as if pressing down might steady the words. "He’s been using the blood of Hades to break the seal."

His chest tightened. The river. That false Styx. It hadn’t just been water—its current had been made of the blood and shadows of Hades’s dead sons.

The realization hit like a blade.

He muttered under his breath, voice ragged. "When I mixed my blood with it..." His jaw locked, a bitter breath leaking past his teeth. "It turned pure. And that was enough to wake him."

His head tilted back weakly, eyes narrowing against the weight of it. "It was me. My blood. I broke the seal."

"What?" Liz’s voice cut in, sharp with confusion.

"I walked right into his trap." The words dragged out of him, rough, his chest stuttering with every breath. His head tipped back against the dark, eyes half-lidded, fighting to stay open.

He paused, the weight of it pressing down like stone. "I think he’s trying to bring Tartarus to the surface."

On the other end, Liz didn’t answer right away. Silence stretched heavy. She knew. If Typhon wasn’t stopped here, Olympus itself would fall.

He could hear the fear in her voice, sharp even through the distance.

"Just... hold on a little longer," he said, breath hitching. "I’ll be home soon."

"You better," she shot back, quick, almost breaking. "The Underworld’s slipping—fast."

His throat tightened. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, weighted by hesitation.

"What happened to Mother?"

"Queen Persephone is frozen in place," Liz’s voice wavered. "She suddenly froze on the throne... whatever’s going on, she can’t hold much longer. I’m trying to heal her, but it’s draining her faster than I can help. All she said was to reach out to you."

His eyes closed for a moment, chest rising slow and uneven.

"Okay, sunshine." His voice was rough but steady. "I’ll handle things from here. Just hold on a little longer."

He looked at the undead sons of Hades. Their hollow eyes fixed on him as their shadows wrapped tight around their broken forms. The pressure squeezed until their bodies twisted, collapsing into the shape of pomegranates.

He took them one by one, biting down. Each swallow sent a jolt through him. Bones snapped back into place with sharp cracks, grinding before settling. Muscles pulled taut, stitching together. Every piece rebuilt itself slowly, every moment searing with pain, as if his body was being broken and reforged at once.

Bite after bite. More cracks, more burns. Until at last he could move again. His frame held steady, breath fuller, though the ache still lingered in every limb.

His eyes swept the dark. It pooled heavy all around him, thicker than shadow, deeper than night. It seeped in slow at first, then rushed through him all at once. His veins burned, muscles tightening as if strung too tight. The feeling was familiar—like something that had always been waiting under his skin.

He didn’t stop. He took all of it, draining the black until nothing remained.

When his boots touched solid ground again, the emptiness was gone. The island stretched beneath him. And standing before him, vast and terrible, was Typhon.

He was bound by roots, yet he stood there calmly, the coils straining as though it was they who were being held in place.

His gaze lifted, finding Kael at last. A faint curl tugged at his mouth.

"So... you came back. I was starting to get bored."

His right arm tore through the thick vines and roots with a grinding snap, wood splintering against scale.

"I was getting tired of draining your mother’s life force. I hope it was worth it—trying to save her precious son’s life."

Something inside Kael snapped.

The Helm of Darkness did not simply appear—it latched. Black metal and shadow slammed over his face, each piece clicking into place with the sound of chains snapping shut. It felt alive, answering his rage, fusing to him like it had been waiting. His shadowed coat snapped outward, thrashing like it had a life of its own.

His eyes glared through the helm’s slits, the weight of his fury clear in the dark glow.

"I will kill you."

Kael vanished.

He reappeared at Typhon’s side, his foot snapping into the Titan’s jaw. The massive head whipped right, scales cracking under the blow.

Before the monster could recover, Kael blinked out again, striking from the left. His heel slammed against the opposite side of Typhon’s face, driving the giant back with a thunderous crack.

Then, shadows coiled at his heels as he reappeared above. He brought his foot down in a brutal arc, smashing into the crown of Typhon’s skull.

The earth buckled under the blow, vines bursting and roots splintering loose, unable to hold the monster any longer. Every coil, every snare, snapped and split under the impact, exploding outward in fragments.

The ground shook as Typhon’s body crashed free.

And in that moment, Persephone was released.

Kael’s shadow stretched wide, trembling with his anger. His head tilted slightly, voice steady and cold.

"You should stop yapping."

The ground trembled under his boots, loose stone rattling as his godly energy burned out of him, sharp and violent.

"I’m at full strength now. You’re not just fighting the son of the Underworld..."

He lifted his blade. Shadows snapped and coiled around him, violet fire catching in his eyes. His voice came low, steady, each word cutting like iron.

"You’re not just facing me. You’re facing the Prince of Darkness. Pride itself."

Typhon’s voice rumbled low, almost mocking.

"Child, even I haven’t used my full power."

His massive body began to change. The ground quaked as endless coils writhed, tightening in on themselves. His colossal frame shrank, scales splitting and peeling away like old armor.

Typhon stepped forward, each motion deliberate. The serpents that made up his lower body writhed and coiled in on themselves, crushing tighter until they fused. Flesh split, scale grinding against scale, until legs forced their way out. His steps came steadier now, smoother—less beast, more man. But the dread clung to him all the same.

The wings folded tight, feathers burning away until only black fire clung to his shoulders like a cloak. The heads pulled back one after another, hissing as they sank. When the last fell silent, only one remained—still monstrous, yet carrying something uncomfortably close to human.

By then, his form had narrowed into something closer to the Olympians. A towering figure, terrible and divine, yet carrying the weight of the monster he truly was.

"I was only using forty percent of my strength," he said, stepping closer, his new form radiating the same dread as his true one—only sharper, more controlled.

Kael tilted his head, meeting his eyes. His voice came dry, rough at the edges.

"What, you want a damn cookie for that?"