Reborn As Hades In Olympus

Chapter 62 Rain (III)

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Ch. 62: Rain (III)

The rain came down in torrents, each droplet hitting like icy needles as Poseidon and I circled one another. My muscles ached from the relentless pace of our fight, but I couldn't afford to slow down now. Poseidon, God of the Sea, was proving to be the ideal opponent— strategic, calculating, and ruthlessly fast. Every move I made was met with a counter, every feint was anticipated.

He was two steps ahead of me, always forcing me backwards.

It was exhausting, mentally and physically. His bident was a blur as it cut through the air with precision, each strike only narrowly missing its mark. I barely had time to react. My feet slid on the rain- soaked ground, struggling to maintain balance. I needed an opening, just one chance to turn the tide in my favor.

"Are you getting sloppy, Poseidon?" I taunted, hoping to break his focus. It was a long shot, but I had nothing to lose. I couldn't tell if it worked— his expression remained cold and unreadable. If anything, it only seemed to make him move faster. His attacks blurred, becoming almost impossible to track.

"Damn, you're good," I muttered, more to myself than him.

Then, a sharp pain surged through my left eye, the Eye of Foresight that Prometheus had given me. The world around me began to split into double images— one of the present and one of what was just ahead. My vision warped, and for a moment, I saw it: Poseidon's bident plunging into my chest. Panic shot through me as the image seared itself into my mind.

I jerked to the side just in time, narrowly avoiding the blow meant for my heart. The bident sliced through the air where I had stood a second before. I spun around, kicking out at Poseidon, hoping to catch him off-guard. But even that, he had anticipated. He leaped back, effortlessly dodging the strike.

"I guess you aren't ordinary yourself," Poseidon acknowledged, his voice a low growl.

His recognition meant little; it didn't change the fact that he was still winning. I had no choice but to switch to the offensive. My body moved on instinct now, driven by the adrenaline coursing through my veins. With a burst of speed, I closed the gap between us and landed a solid punch on Poseidon's face. His head snapped back, and for a brief moment, he staggered.

The shock on his face was palpable, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of vulnerability.

But the moment was fleeting. Poseidon's surprise quickly morphed into something darker— pure, unfiltered rage. His lips curled into a snarl as he regained his footing, his eyes locking onto mine with renewed intensity.

The sky responded to his fury, cracking open with a deafening roar of thunder. The downpour grew heavier, turning the battlefield into a slick, treacherous mess. The weight of the rain pressed down on us, thickening the tension in the air. I could feel myself slowing down, the fatigue beginning to take its toll. My heart raced, struggling to keep up with the demands of the fight.

But I couldn't let Poseidon see my exhaustion. I couldn't give him that advantage.

He studied me for a moment, his chest heaving. "Whoever you are, you played the game well. You knew who we were, how to react. It's crazy to think of what more you could know." His voice was laced with grudging respect, but beneath it, I sensed something else— curiosity, and maybe a hint of fear. He saw me as a threat.

But he was right about one thing: I wasn't a seasoned fighter. I was a scholar, a thinker, not someone who could rely on brute force or years of combat experience. My only chance was to fight smarter, to find an edge. The most I could draw out of myself was about forty percent of my full power, but I had to assume Poseidon hadn't even reached his peak yet.

I had to be ready for him to come at me with everything.

The rain soaked through my hair and clothes, clinging to my skin like a cold reminder of how much I still had to learn. But there was something comforting in the rain too. It drowned out the world around me, creating a rhythm I could focus on. The sound of it hitting the ground, the smell of wet earth— it grounded me, reminded me of something from my past, though I couldn't quite place it.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. My muscles tightened, my senses sharpened. This was it. The moment of truth.

"I have one question for you sir," I said, my voice cold and steady. My aura darkened, the energy around me shifting as I prepared for the next clash.

Poseidon's eyes flickered with annoyance. "Sir?" he repeated, incredulous. "How insulting. I am the god of the seas."

I ignored his indignation. "What was your goal in forming the Circle?"

For a split second, I thought I saw something flicker behind his eyes— hesitation, maybe doubt— but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. His face hardened again, and he started advancing toward me, his bident raised.

"Like hell I'd tell you, imposter," he snarled.

I flexed my hands, feeling the blood pump through them as I loosened my grip before tightening it again. "Don't worry, Poseidon. I'll beat every bit of information out of you," I replied. "I never expected you to be a traitor. That's more of Ares' style."

Poseidon's expression darkened further. "Traitor?" he scoffed. "How presumptuous of you. I am a god, above all else. Hades was always the scheming bastard. He had hidden agendas, secrets.

That was why he formed the Circle all those years back."

His words hit me like a hammer. Hades? The Circle? I fought to keep my expression neutral, though I could feel my shock bubbling beneath the surface. Was he telling the truth? Could Hades have been behind it all?

My mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of information I had.

"You don't believe me?" Poseidon sneered. "Fine. Believe what you will. But soon, you will be dead."

We stood face to face now, inches apart, the rain pouring down between us like a curtain. His bident gleamed in the dim light, its razor-sharp points aimed directly at me. "An unsteady heart cannot summon the weapon of a god," Poseidon continued, his voice low and menacing. "You have no hope of winning."

"Last question," I said, cutting him off as he raised his weapon. "How did you know who I was?"

His hesitation was brief, but telling. "All over the web, your true identity was revealed. There's a price on your head. Most of the gods don't believe it, but suspicions have been growing for some time."

"So it's him," I muttered to myself, lowering my head. My suspicions were confirmed. This had to be his comeback— Mr Anonymous was getting ready to finish me off for good.

Poseidon thrust his bident at my face, but this time, I was ready.

"Gloves off," I whispered, as the real fight began.

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