The adventurers moved through the familiar darkness of the 80th floor with unwavering purpose. Monsters that once would have been formidable opponents fell in waves before their combined might. Bell's blade flashed like lightning, each strike a seamless blend of physical prowess and raw magical energy. Ais moved alongside him, a storm of wind and steel. Ottar's heavy strikes crushed anything in his path, while Finn's precision and Riveria's devastating magic cut down anything from a distance.
It seemed, for a time, that they would make it all the way without encountering anything capable of slowing them. But as they rounded a corner, the air changed—there was a deep, resonating presence.
A doorway of darkness opened up, and Hades stepped out. His eyes, filled with arrogance and greed, were the only things visible within the shifting shadows that surrounded him.
"You've come far, children of Orario," Hades said, his voice echoing off the stone walls. He wore a condescending smile. "But you've wandered too far, and now... you face the end."
Bell narrowed his eyes, stepping forward, unfazed by the sudden arrival of the Lord of the Underworld. He had expected this—he had been hoping for this. The tension in the room was palpable as the adventurers moved into formation, their weapons raised.
"This is our chance," Bell murmured to the others, his eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "We've prepared for this."
And with those words, the battle began.
Hades unleashed a wave of dark energy that rolled across the floor like a tide of death, its malevolence palpable. The adventurers scattered, dodging or blocking the incoming attack. Bell, however, stood his ground. As the dark energy surged toward him, his magic flared up—limitless, surging power countering the darkness with effortless ease.
"Now," Bell whispered, and his body seemed to shimmer, his vows—vows that had restricted him for so long—finally breaking one by one.
As the bonds shattered, a rush of power surged through him, filling every muscle, every nerve, every fiber of his being. The torturous training he had endured, pushing his body to the edge, had been for this moment. Each restriction lifted, and Bell felt his senses heighten. His six eyes activated, glowing with an intense blue hue. Limitless magic flooded through his veins, each particle of energy enhancing his physical attributes. His perception sharpened, seeing even the smallest fluctuation in Hades' aura.
With newfound freedom, Bell's speed blurred beyond recognition, and in an instant, he closed the distance between himself and Hades. His sword flashed out, striking with impossible precision as Alfia's magic surged alongside his attacks—converging beams of destructive energy that tore through the divine shadows. Hades reeled back, stunned by the sheer intensity of the assault.
"You dare..." Hades hissed, his face twisted in fury as he tried to retaliate. His own divine energy flared, empowering his physical form. For a moment, he seemed larger, more powerful, the dungeon quaking under his influence. But Bell was far from done.
"Freya," Bell murmured under his breath, the connection between his falna and the goddess flaring to life. Freya's divine power poured through him, a warmth that filled his entire being. It was a power that, for gods, would have taken years to grow. Bell, however, through training, devotion, and sheer willpower, managed to harness it in a matter of weeks.
As the divine energy coursed through him, Bell could feel himself changing, becoming something greater. He met Hades' glare with a look of serene confidence, as if every challenge, every trial, had led him to this very moment.
With the divinity-infused power at his disposal, Bell summoned "Red"—a technique that seemed to embody destruction itself. He focused the divine energy, channeling it to his palm as a sphere of pure erasure formed. Hades, recognizing the danger, tried to step back, but Bell moved too fast, cutting off his escape.
"This is for everyone you've wronged," Bell said, his voice resolute. With a swift motion, he unleashed the Red, the blast cutting through the dungeon air, striking Hades with full force.
The explosion of power was blinding, the surge of energy enough to silence everything else around them. The oppressive shadow that had loomed over the adventurers dissipated, leaving a stunned silence in its wake. As the light faded, Hades' form had completely vanished—erased from existence by Bell's divine-powered Red.
The adventurers stood frozen for a moment, catching their breath, the realization of what had just occurred slowly washing over them. The once invincible Lord of the Underworld had been defeated—not in Hell, where he was untouchable, but here, in the depths of the Dungeon. And it had been Bell who had delivered the final, decisive blow.
"We... we did it?" Ais whispered, her eyes wide, disbelief evident on her face. The tension began to melt away, replaced by a deep sense of triumph.
Ottar exhaled heavily, planting his axe on the ground and leaning on it for support. "It's over," he confirmed, nodding. There was relief in his eyes, though he kept his composure, as always.
Finn smiled, looking up at Bell, who stood amidst the dissipating shadows, his aura still blazing, eyes fixed where Hades had last stood. "We owe this victory to you, Bell."
Bell finally relaxed, lowering his sword. He was exhausted, his entire body aching from the output of magic and the toll of utilizing divine energy. But he couldn't help but smile, a mix of exhaustion and triumph. They had done it—they had actually done it. They had faced Hades, in all his godly might, and they had emerged victorious.
"We did it together," Bell said, his voice thick with emotion. He turned to face his comrades, the people who had fought beside him through every trial, every hardship. "And now... we can finally leave this place."
The group nodded, their eyes filled with gratitude, admiration, and respect. They had faced hell itself, stood against a god, and emerged victorious. They were battered, bruised, and exhausted beyond belief—but they had won.
And as they turned to leave, there was no denying the change in each of them. They had grown—not just in strength, but in spirit. They had become something that even gods feared, champions forged by their trials, bonded by their victories.
Bell looked at the others, a sense of unity tying them all together. "Let's go home," he said softly, and with that, they began their journey back—knowing that they had faced the impossible, and they had won.