SCC Chapter 7 State of Greece(1)
The colosseum in the state of Greece was a great marvel of construction that had reached the level of epic. It could seat a million spectators, coupled with an area for refreshments, bathrooms and the rooms where the gladiators prepared for their battles. Many more facilities were also nestled within its gigantic form.
It had been constructed from brown stone, each block large and cleanly cut, seamlessly integrating with the next one. No mortar or concrete had been poured into the construction, only arrays had been used to strengthen its materials, and also protect it from the ravages of battle.
And at this time, the atmosphere was charged with the sounds of the spectators. The colosseum itself was minutely vibrating from the roars of the million mortals that were currently seated. The sweltering heat had even failed to dampen the atmosphere.
Because today, there was going to be an important duel, one which would see two lesser gods battling it out. How long had it been since the last match between the gods had been fought. A decade! In the lifespan of a mortal, that was a very long time indeed.
On one side of the colosseum, most of the tiered audience seats were empty. And this particular area was considered far more luxurious and comfortable, with each tiered seat having a long cushion where the person could even take a nap. Refreshments were also being served, made with ingredients that could change a mortal's life with just a sip.
This area was reserved for those that resided within Olympus, the gods. And at the highest tier of the seats, were three thrones, each with a distinct appearance. Two were empty, with only the obsidian one occupied by a figure cloaked in darkness. No one had ever managed to get a glimpse of his true face, even the gods themselves, making him the most mysterious of them all.
Shrouded within the darkness that didn't let in even the slightest light, sound or smell, the figure was tapping his finger at the arm rest. The reason for that was simply because of boredom. Hades disliked things that wasted time, or were entirely pointless. Even this battle, was simply two children slinging mud at each other in his eyes, utterly useless. Yet Zeus had stipulated that atleast one of them had to be here. Why? Because these little kids playing at being gods could go off the rails and slaughter every commoner here. Killing a few didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, but above a certain number, things could become complicated.
His superior senses had already alerted him to the suspicious ones, the mortals who had become drunk on the promises from the outsiders, the Federation. A little yearning wasn't wrong though.
Eyes would occasionally slide towards this area, the cheers were more fake than genuine, the heartbeats were too calm, there were glints in the eyes. All these were a sign of people who had been regaled by tales of better, the ones who had woken up to reality. And that reality was simple. If you were not chosen, you would have to stay a mortal for the rest of your life.
Hades was currently the second generation, a little bit older than the current Zeus, but he had never loved this place. If it wasn't for the stringent oaths binding him to this place, he would have left long ago. Pantheon was a paper tiger. The mortals were simply being restrained by fear. But if the fuse of revolution were to be lit one day, then they, the gods, wouldn't even be capable of stopping them.
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To him, all that was simply the way of the world. He would even love for something like that to happen as most of the oaths binding him would be null. But he couldn't actively sow the seeds, only gaze at them as they propagated.
And these lesser gods were only adding fuel to the flames, like the imbecile below who was raping a young mortal girl in broad daylight. What was his name again? Eros?
His thoughts traveled from him to the Federation, a behemoth that didn't lose out to any of the sects individually. It was something he wanted to join. They were collectively working towards a higher goal, continously advancing. Yet the sects had become stagnant, with Zeus syphoning a massive amount of resources that vanished into thin air. Even his Underworld palace, highly skilled in espionage and intelligence gathering hadn't managed to find even a whiff of them, as if they had all vanished into thin air.
That was suspicious. And it went as far back as as the first generation Zeus' time. What was that thing that was taking up all the resources that would have been used to advance the sect? It had even been the crucial key that had prevented a war with the then budding Federation.
The two cultivators with their overly inflated egos finally entered the pit to the cheers of the masses. This was one of those times he wished that Posey was the one here. He had the patience of taking these things seriously. Though he would rather take this task over fending off the sea beasts along the coastline. That was a meat grinder that always ocurred when the power hierarchy within the oceans shifted.
With much fanfare, the duel began. The two started off with ostentious movements that wasted alot of chances, wanting to show off. Apparently the conflict had reached this stage because of a certain goddess. What the two brats didn't even realise was the fact that she was only playing the both of them for her own amusement.
With a shake of his head, Hades returned to the task at hand, communicating with his associates that were everywhere around the world. Infiltrating the lower strata of the Federation was easy, but the true core secrets were harder to get to. That AI wasn't simple. And he even suspected that it had developed a soul.
A piece of information attracted his attention, causing his eyes to briefly light up even within the enshrouding darkness.
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Within the crowds of the colosseum stood Ektaktos. He was doing his best to hold back the simmering rage beneath his calm veneer. These imbeciles had the power to create an array that suppressed those cultivators' abilities within the realms of mortals, allowing for he, and the crowds the ability to enjoy the duels, yet, failed to aid every single mortal to reach their heights. There were ways through which a mortal could become a cultivator, but the brutal trials required a powerful will and some luck, not to mentiom the fact that apparently, you would remain stuck as a demigod, translating into the peak of Spirit Gathering.
He had bought the ticket to this fight such that he could get a close look at the so-called gods, who were blatantly engaged in debauchery. The young woman beneath that orange haired man was surely begging for help, yet none cared. The reason, weakness.
The memory of his younger days brought upon the grinding of teeth. He had been in awe of their powers, until someone had appeared in their village one fateful night, like a shooting star that had fell down from the skies. He had spoken of cultivation, of how it could enrich their lives. But he hadn't taught them.
Why? Because they would have been slaughtered. At the time, he hadn't understood, just like the others but upon growing up, the whispers had reached his ears. Those of people who had gained magical abilities only to be hunted down by the gods and slaughtered. The brutality had terrified him, curbing any thoughts of resistance.
But almost over a decade ago, another cultivator from the outside had reached his village, hiding himself like a commoner. He had had a device that allowed for the transmission of images straight to the mind.
Ektaktos' mind had been blown upon seeing the tall buildings of metal and glass, the self driving carriages, the large monstrous ships that ferried those people into the skies. But what lit a fire within him was the image he was certain he would never get out of his mind. It had been a moving picture, one the man had termed a video, of two children playing a game. The physical abilities that had been put on display had made him blush with shame.
Every single person in that civilization could wield magical powers! Yet here, the so-called gods, the cultivators made certain that only they, could enjoy that privilege. What even stoked his rage the most was simply the fact that these people had all that power, yet chose to do nothing with it.