Cres, naturally, possessed no divine body.
He had indeed fallen during the ancient Titanomachy; he was severed at the waist, and his physical form had long since shattered into the annals of history. From the very beginning, this Titan had existed only as a divine spirit, anchored to a wooden puppet and masked so perfectly by the aura of the Life Law that even Hebe had been deceived into believing he lived.
"Naive Goddess," Cres whispered, his voice echoing through the chasm. "How else do you think I created a Hekatoncheir capable of rivaling a Major God?"
"That monster was forged from the only half of my divine flesh that remained."
Cres's palm erupted with divine radiance once more. Countless minuscule spores sprayed forth, saturating the canyon in an instant. They were as small as fireflies, yet they were everywhere. A gentle breeze, conjured by his will, drifted the spores toward Hebe. Upon sensing the vibrant life-force radiating from the Goddess, the gray spores shuddered as if catalyzed.
In a heartbeat, they swelled, bursting forth from their husks into countless vines saturated with a dense, sickening aura of death. They writhed and squirmed like colossal maggots as they lunged for the Goddess.
Hebe was far too close. The revolting vines moved with impossible speed, ensnaring and locking her limbs before she could react. Sharp talons at the tips of the vines tore through her Major God-level flesh, burrowing into her limbs and racing toward the center of her chest, aimed directly at her Godhood.
Golden divine blood splattered across the violet soil.
Cres reached out, catching a few droplets. A flicker of irrepressible greed flashed in his pale green eyes, but he quickly composed himself. These meager scraps of blood were not enough for the grand stage he had set. His performance required a far more substantial reward.
"Heart of Wither."
As the blood sprayed, a nameless curse invaded Hebe's essence. A tidal wave of powerlessness flooded her body; the Domain of Life shattered, and the flowers within the canyon instantly decayed. Her divine power was shackled. Hebe, the Goddess of Life, fell into a forced coma.
"Damn you!"
Pagos, still locked in combat with the Hekatoncheir, realized his primary self was in peril. His face twisted with anxiety. Beating his crow-gold wings, he attempted to fly to Hebe's aid.
"ROAR!"
The savage giant snapped its crimson eyes shut and then open, its hundred hands slamming down like a falling sky. The impact created a hurricane-force shockwave of pressure that even a Major God could not ignore.
"Filthy God-scourge, get back!"
Pagos bellowed, the phantom of the Nether Sun above him flaring with blinding intensity. Upon his blade, the purplish-red Infernal Flare roared to life. He swung a massive arc of fire at the giant's reaching arms. Moving at the speed of light, the blade was unavoidable. Ichor sprayed as several massive arms were severed, spinning through the air before crashing to the ground.
The Hekatoncheir howled in pain, stumbling back. Its massive feet struck the canyon floor, triggering a localized earthquake.
"Vile, fallen god! Do not touch her with your filthy hands!"
Pagos's dark gold eyes bled into a manic crimson. His wings beat with frantic speed, transforming him into a streak of obsidian light as he lunged at Cres. He swung his sword, releasing a wave of violent death energy. The black-and-white energy carved through the air like a guillotine, seeking to force Cres away from Hebe.
Cres merely turned his head. The Growth Godhood in his hand shimmered, absorbing the death energy as if it were a cooling draft.
Seeing his strike fail, Pagos danced his blade in a pattern like a blooming lotus. The powers of Solar Eclipse and the Nether Sun surged within him; the power of Annihilation and the Infernal Flare erupted simultaneously.
"Ugh..."
Chilling light rippled across Cres's form. With a resonant crack, the puppet body shattered. Cres's brow furrowed as his spirit drifted in the air, feeling the sting of the impact on his soul.
"I underestimated you," Cres remarked. Even with his vessel in splinters, his spirit remained poised and unbothered.
"Midas Touch."
His severed wooden arm still gripped the staff. The Golden Grain Staff emitted a blinding flash of golden light that engulfed Pagos.
No!
Pagos tried to twist away, but he was a fraction of a second too slow. A sudden, crushing weight hit him, and he nearly tumbled from the sky. Half of the Chthonic God's body had been transformed into solid gold, rendering him immobile.
"ROAR!"
A massive hand from the Hekatoncheir slammed down on him.
BOOM!
Pagos struck the canyon floor like a falling star, carving a deep crater into the earth. Golden blood trickled from his lips, and his eyes were wide with fury. Suddenly, a carpet of pale blue thorns erupted from the soil, binding his remaining limbs and burrowing into his chest, shackling his power in the same manner as Hebe's.
"Hahaha! Good, good... I have finally lived to see this day."
Divine light flickered at Cres's fingertips as he commanded the shattered puppet pieces to reassemble. The green-robed deity, once more holding his staff, looked at the two fallen gods—one of life, one of death. To him, they were a gift from the Will of the World itself. His smile became increasingly manic and deranged.
"With your divine powers, I shall not only resurrect but return to my peak—no, I shall surpass it!"
"Roar..."
The Hekatoncheir knelt before Cres in total submission. The bloodthirsty monster was as docile as a loyal hound before its master. Cres looked at the hideous giant that carried his own blood and stroked its massive skull with feigned tenderness.
"You have done well all these years. You have worked hard."
"Roar..."
"Now... please die."
Divine essence erupted from Cres's hand. Emerald vines exploded from the earth, coiling around the kneeling giant. They treated the creature's flesh like fertile soil, taking root and siphoning its life-force with voracious speed.
The Hekatoncheir let out a pained cry. Even a mindless monster struggles when its existence is threatened, but it was caught in the supreme life-art: Life Siphon. The vines drained its quintessence, funneling the stolen vitality into the Growth Godhood. Even a true Hekatoncheir would have struggled to break this bind, let alone this incomplete prototype.
Slowly, the giant's struggles ceased. Its body stiffened, and as the final spark of life was extinguished, the monster collapsed, its remains turning into a range of jagged hills.
What a freak... Pagos thought, his golden wings twitching.
Having reclaimed his essence, Cres turned his focus back to the two captive deities. "And now, let the Great Rite begin!"
He struck his staff against the ground, and a throne of vines and shrubs rose beneath him. With a flick of a finger, a massive pit opened in the ground before him. He plucked the Growth Godhood from his staff and hurled it into the air.
The magnificent crystal pulsed with light. A rain of green particles, heavy with the scent of life, filled the pit until it became an Emerald Pool—the concentrated life energy of a Titan. The Godhood then shuddered, ejecting a gray crystal that fell into the pool.
The water bubbled violently. A fountain of gray spring water, thick with the aura of death, erupted and claimed the other half of the pool. Two clashing energies sat side-by-side, achieving a precarious, miraculous balance.
Cres's hands moved through the air with the grace of a conductor from the ancient eons, though the melody he wove vibrated the very laws of the universe. The pool glowed. The green and gray waters were drawn upward like two silk ribbons, intertwining and coiling like serpents. They touched, pulled away, and touched again. With every contact, star-like fragments of light fell into the basin.
Cres's eyes lit up. It's working!
After countless cycles of collision and intertwining, a layer of fine crystals had formed at the bottom of the pool. Cres, unable to contain his excitement, tapped his staff. The Growth Godhood split in two. One half continued to manage the flow of life and death, while the other drifted to the bottom to absorb the crystals. As it fed, the sinking Godhood shrank until it was no larger than a fingernail.
A singular gold-blue light emerged, emitting a shockwave that felt like death, yet like life, and somehow perfectly between the two.
Resurrection.
Pagos's eyes widened. This Titan was forging a Godhood that could bring the dead back to life!
The tiny gold-blue Godhood ascended, aggressively displacing the Growth Godhood to claim the central position. It drew in the remaining waters of the pool, greedily devouring their power to grow.
Not enough! More! I need more!
Even after draining the entire Emerald Pool, the new Godhood had only grown to the size of a thumb. It emitted a "howl" of hunger, its form flickering as if it might shatter if not fed immediately.
"Now, it is your turn."
The thorns dragged Hebe and Pagos before the hungry Godhood. Cres used his staff to slice open their arms. Golden divine blood, rich with the essence of life and death, gushed forth like a fountain. The gold-green Life power and gray Death power poured over the Resurrection Godhood.
Fed by this divine quintessence, the Godhood erupted in brilliance. It grew at a visible rate—size of a thumb, size of a half-fist, then the size of a full fist! The ultra-tier Godhood was near completion.
"Finally!" Cres stood from his throne, walking toward the crystal with a look of pure obsession.
"Heh..."
A faint, ethereal sigh drifted through the air.
"Who is there!?" Cres snapped, spinning around. Suddenly, his face twisted in horror.
Hebe, who should have been comatose, had opened her eyes. She was pale and gaunt, but her violet eyes burned with a terrifying radiance. Within her gaze, the cycle of the four seasons seemed to spin in an endless loop.
"One Soul, Two Forms. Bi-unity Manifest."
The Goddess gave a light cry, and her body emitted a soft glow. Beside her, Pagos's eyes closed as his form became ethereal, drifting into Hebe and merging with her essence.
Her crow-gold wings tore through the binding vines. Her brilliant gold hair was stained as black as the night, her lips as red as fresh blood. Her eyes shifted into a mysterious, gold-violet hue.
With life in her left hand and death in her right, the Goddess brought her palms together. A wave of gold-blue Resurrection power surged forth. Sensing a power of the same origin, the new Godhood flew toward Hebe like a bird returning to its nest. It entered her chest and acknowledged her as its master instantly.
"NOOOOOO!!!!"
Cres was deranged with fury. Ten thousand years of effort had become someone else's prize. The shock was so great his spirit nearly unraveled on the spot.
As the ocean-like power flooded her veins, Hebe let out a long sigh. She looked at Cres with a cold, predatory smile. She reached out and seized the remaining half of the Growth Godhood.
"You have caused me quite a bit of trouble, My Lord. As compensation, I shall take this as well."
"You!" Cres's eyes were blood-red. "Even a Major God cannot ignore the Heart of Wither! How!? How are you standing!?"
"That is a question you may ask the Laws," Hebe replied, recalling the rule that "villains die because they talk too much." She simply raised her hand and erased Cres's mark from the Godhood.
"NO!!!"
Without a Godhood to anchor him, Cres's spirit shattered instantly, dissolving into the winds of the canyon. The Golden Grain Staff fell to the dirt, its light fading into a dull grey.
"Cough!"
With Cres gone, Hebe spat out a mouthful of divine blood. The Scepter of Life appeared, working frantically to repair her ravaged body.
She let out a bitter laugh and pulled a shattered, transparent crystal from her chest. The transition from birth to youth is the passage of time; the seasons are a cycle of time; frost is a temporary pause of time; history is the retracing of time. By leveraging the power of these Godhoods, Hebe had barely managed to gestate a Time Godhood Projection to serve as her ultimate trump card.
She hadn't expected to use it so soon. At the moment Cres was about to shackle her, she had crushed the projection, casting a Time Loop upon herself. She had looped her state in the millisecond before her power was locked.
She had been ruthless with herself. The Heart of Wither brought not only physical agony but a void-like powerlessness that was nearly impossible to endure. Linked to Pagos, she had waited within that loop for the exact moment the Godhood was formed to break out, merge, and seize the prize.
Truly, if one isn't ruthless, their throne will never be unshakeable.