Deep in the underworld stood a majestic palace made of dark marble. Shadowy beings, responsible for the management of the afterlife, rushed in and out in a monotonous yet busy rhythm.

Inside the palace, a man lounged over an obsidian throne. Besides him, a three headed fiery dog lay in deep slumber. The man's skin was as pale as snow, his long dark hair fell down to his waist, and his eyes were so profound that they seemed to be abyss itself.

He let out a wistful sigh, his eyes wandering to the ceiling. How deep he longed for the days when the heroes still had the courage to adventure out in the world and challenge the impossible.

Nowadays, everyone has turned into cowards. Heroes had lost all gall, and now only battled against themselves—or at best pointed their weapons to some weak deity.

"Should I pay a visit to the Upper World?" Hades mused to himself, lost in boredom.

It had been too damn long since anything of interest happened, and frankly speaking, Hades was bored out of his mind. It was then, that in the deepest depths of the underworld, at the gates of Tartarus, a mysterious energy burst.

Hades jolted from his throne, and with a snap of his fingers his treasured spear and helmet flew to him. He teared through space, opening a portal to the location of the disturbance.

There, in the middle of dark miasma and fiery rivers, Hades spotted an inconspicuous rift. It wasn't very large, but the energy it emanated was eerie and foreign. He observed it from a distance, curious to who had dared to intrude on his realm.

"Are my brothers trying to prank me? Or is this some new ploy by the titans?"

As Hades approached the rift, a mysterious force pulled him. He tried to resist, digging his heels on the ground but it was all useless as even his godly powers failed to stop the suction force. 

The rift's energy grew more intense, swirling around and distorting the space around him. His whole body was sucked into the rift, and sent flying through spacetime. Hades' eyes widened as he sped through the rift, generally rift's tunnels were quite short, but this one seemed to go on and on.

He had already lost track of the time spent inside the rift when he was spewed out, crashing into the ground.

"Ouch!" He jolted back to his feet, wincing in pain, when he realized something was wrong. "Wait… that hurt—-"

Hades' brows clung together in a deep frown as he tried to summon his powers, only to realize that his Divine Flame had been extinguished. He swallowed dry, attempting to summon his divine powers once again in panic.

Yet, just like before nothing came out.

"Did I lose my powers?" He clutched his head in desperation.

This all felt like some sort of dream, after he was a god—a true god—and he didn't think that it was possible for someone or something to take his powers away. Even the Primordials, the strongest deities in the entire Greece, were only able to seal a portion of his powers temporarily.

Yet here he was, with barely a flicker of his power left. The thought that a being capable of such an incredible feat existed was almost laughable, if not downright absurd.

Hades let out a long and drowned out sigh, wondering what kind of mess he had gotten himself into. He glanced around, finding himself in the middle of a vast forest, but in the distant horizon he could spot billows of smoke.

Hades followed the smoke's trail to the edge of the forest, and finally spotted a large city. Its walls rose fifteen feet high, rivaling even the biggest greek's polis. He had traveled far and wide through the world—from the frigid lands of the Norse, to the unforgiving desert of the Egyptians—but he couldn't recognize this place.

A large crowd gathered at the city's gates, with many men carrying weapons. Thankfully, his Gift of Tongues, a blessing that allowed a deity to understand all languages, still worked and he was able to perfectly understand the conversations around him.

The city was called Aldeerwoord, and it seemed that a local organization was in the middle of holding a tournament. Hades could feel a faint energy coming from most of the armed men, something similar to what the god's champions in Greece possessed.

As he began to wonder what kind of pantheon ruled this land, he found himself at the front of the line. The guards stared at him with a serious face, glancing at him from head to toes."What's your business here, young man?" One of the guards said in a gruff voice.

"I came to watch the tournament." He said

"Hpmh! Go in, but you better stay out of trouble."

Hades threw a look of amusement at the guard, and finally entered the city. He aimlessly strolled through the bustling streets of Aldeerwoord, surprised by how big it was. He wasn't exactly sure how many people lived there, but he was sure that it dwarfed almost all of the poleis in Greece

He noticed that most people headed in the same direction, so he decided to follow the crowd, and before long he arrived in a large building complex. A large sign hung by the entrance, with the name Crystal Palace majestically carved.

The inside of the complex was even grander, with well-groomed gardens and pathways paved with what seemed to be a type of crystals. There were many buildings, but the four largest drew the most attention.

The largest of them was an imposing four-story castle that seemed built entirely of white crystal. The second was a large, open arena, where most people headed. The last two were two grand pavilions that stood in opposition of each other.

Hades observed the castle for a brief moment, and then headed in the direction of the arena. He could feel a maelstrom of energy coming from within, and his sense warned him of some presences that rivaled even the Greek's heroes—albeit the weakest ones.

He found a seat amidst the crowd, and sat down to watch. On a stage, two men donning blue robes traded blows. One of them had a slim build and wielded a sword, while his adversary–a burly middle aged man— used an axe.

Every time that the weapons met, sparks danced across the stage accompanied by the melodic hum of metal clanging. The swordsman seemed to be at a disadvantage at first, but he continued to parry all blows, and then, an opportunity finally arrived.

As the older man extended his reach a bit too far, the swordsman twisted his body and kicked the ground, launching himself. His left hand gleamed in a blue hue as he let out a palm strike.

The burly middle aged man stumbled back, blood dripping down his lips. He still clutched his stomach when the swordsman attacked once again, thrusting his blade with incredible speed.

 Due to his posture being broken, the old man moved awkwardly and couldn't dodge in time, the sword's tip landing an inch away from his neck. The crowd erupted in cheers as the battle came to an end, with many of the watchers jolting up and shouting.

In the middle of all the shouts, Hades attentively listened to a conversation behind him.

"Dammit. Why is that guy so strong?"

"Stop comparing yourselves with him. You know very well how unfair the cultivation world is."

"Yeah. Comparing cultivators like him to us is stupid."

Hades turned to the group and smiled, noticing slivers of energy emanating from their body.

"Are those people in the stage cultivators?" Hades inquired with a curious face.

"Hm? What kind of stupid question is that?"

"Hahaha. This guy must be joking or something."

Hades frowned at their mockery, but decided to let go. He had more pressing issues on his mind, and now all he wanted was to focus on regaining his powers. From the little he had listened to their conversations, their powers came from cultivation, a strange term that Hades never heard before.

"So what exactly is this cultivation thing?" He changed his question.

"W-What?! Dude, don't tell me that you don't know what cultivation is."

"What hole did you crawl off? Everyone knows what cultivation is."Hades pouted for a moment, making an effort to not lose his patience.

"So? How can one start cultivating then?"

"Hahaha. Are you looking to start cultivating? Good luck!" The oldest man in the group said.

"To cultivate you need a breathing technique." The youngest member of the group, who had stayed silent until now, finally spoke.

"Just that?"

"Well, age and talent is also important. When you grow older, the Spiritual channels in your body start to clog up." The youngest answered.

Hades nodded and fell silent for a brief moment. He could already envision the method that those humans spoke, but what puzzled him was the fact that they were able to gather and refine spiritual energy.

Back in Greece, this was impossible since Soma—what the Greeks called Spiritual Energy—moved accordingly to the principles of Logos, the fundamental principle that reigned over all spiritual matters.

It was Logos that birthed the Primordials, and gave the godly authority to Hades and his kin, and it also limited their powers.

As Hades thought, a sudden idea flourished in his mind. What if the Logos he knew didn't exist in this place, and instead another entity governed the Spirituality? This would perfectly explain why, even though he still had his Divine Flame, he had lost most of his power.

He felt a strange sense of dread and excitement rising in his stomach. Without being affected by the Logos, and with a clear path to regain his powers, he now could grow past his limits, and maybe even surpass the all-mighty Primordials back in Greece.

Hades finally managed to calm down, settling the excitement deep inside him. He stared at the group, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of a new adventure.

"So? How can I start cultivating?"