This was partly because Kronos had begun fighting with his full strength, and partly because Zeus had grown at an astonishing pace through ten years of war.
The authority of the God King slumbering within him was rapidly awakening and merging with his divine power.
Although he had yet to master it completely, there were moments when its might rivaled—and even briefly surpassed—that of Hades and Hera.
“Lord Poseidon, do you not intend to join that battlefield?” A cold yet slightly husky female voice sounded beside him.
At some point, Styx, Goddess of the River Styx, had quietly appeared.
She wore a long gown as dark as the night itself, its trailing hem flowing like an endless black river.
Her dignified face carried the solemn majesty unique to the guardian of sacred oaths.
Yet whenever her eyes rested upon Poseidon, a rare softness appeared—one that no other god had ever witnessed.
“Ah, Styx.” “I’ve never cared much for the spotlight.” “Besides, this war is bound to last a long time.” “It isn’t worth exhausting myself in a direct battle against that old man just yet.” As he spoke, Poseidon casually threw a punch.
A charging Titan general was blasted away, crashing through half a mountain before disappearing beneath a cloud of rubble.
He dusted off his hands as though nothing had happened.
By now, this had become Poseidon’s signature style on the battlefield.
Whenever the front lines were in danger of collapsing or the pressure became overwhelming, he would appear.
With overwhelming strength, he would crush or hold back the enemy.
Yet when it came to the decisive clash or the final killing blow… He always remained at the edge of the battlefield.
And Styx… The ancient goddess who governed oaths and the sacred river… Was almost always beside him.
Sometimes she delivered intelligence from across the battlefield.
Sometimes she fought alongside him with her divine power.
But more often than not… She simply stood beside him in silence.
Over time, this became another symbol associated with Poseidon.
Even Styx—the solemn goddess who governed the holiest of oaths—was willing to remain at his side.
One day, Poseidon suddenly asked, “Styx… don’t you care about all the gossip spreading across the battlefield?” The rumors claimed that the proud and aloof Goddess Styx had become Poseidon’s personal favorite.
Styx merely smiled.
A smile reserved for him alone.
“Lord Poseidon, there is no need to concern yourself with meaningless rumors.” “I have lived long enough to witness countless rises and falls… as well as betrayal.” “Rumors are like the wind.” “They disappear the moment they pass.” “They cannot shake the River Styx.” “Nor can they stain the sanctity of an oath.” Looking into Poseidon’s ocean-blue eyes, which seemed as deep and boundless as the sea itself, she spoke gently.
“So long as you continue to honor your promise…” “…to protect my sister Asia’s stubborn husband and her impulsive sons…” “…I shall remain forever grateful.” “As for a little damage to my reputation…” “What does that matter?” “Hmm…” Poseidon rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
The rumors didn’t particularly bother him.
If anything, they discouraged unnecessary people from approaching him.
Still… He understood they came at the cost of Styx’s dignity as a goddess.
For that, he felt a little apologetic.
In truth, everything stemmed from nothing more than a mutually beneficial agreement between the two of them.
“You’ve protected my lovestruck brother-in-law, Iapetus…” “…along with my sister Asia’s reckless sons, Menoetius and Atlas.” “Despite fighting in countless battles, they’ve always survived and managed to withdraw safely.” A trace of sorrow entered Styx’s voice.
“There is no room for sentiment on the battlefield.” “But whenever I see my sister silently weeping over her husband and children…” “…how can I simply stand by as her elder sister?” As though responding to her words… A gigantic figure charged toward Poseidon like a raging mountain.
It was Atlas.
The mighty Titan destined to bear the heavens.
“POSEIDON!!” “You again!” “If you’ve got the courage, fight me properly!” “Stop running away every single time!” Atlas roared like an earthquake.
Every step shook the ground beneath his feet as he swung arms powerful enough to support the sky itself.
Poseidon lazily scratched his ear.
“Could you lower your voice a little?” “You’re so loud every time we meet that my ears are starting to ring.” “You bastard!” “You dare mock me?!” Atlas exploded with rage.
His enormous fist descended with enough force to shatter mountains and split the seas.
BOOM!!
The two fists collided.
A deafening explosion erupted.
The resulting shockwave blasted away rocks, trees, and even unfortunate monsters within hundreds of meters.
“…Ugh!” Pain and disbelief spread across Atlas’s face.
His Titan body—renowned for its incredible toughness—was actually being forced backward by Poseidon’s fist, which shimmered with deep azure divine light.
“You’ve gotten a little stronger.” “But you’re still far too weak.” “Go train for another few hundred years, kid.” Poseidon gave his evaluation casually before releasing a little more strength.
“AAAAARGH!!” Atlas felt an irresistible force surge through his body.
His massive figure was hurled backward like a meteor before crashing into a distant mountainside.
BOOM!
Dust billowed high into the sky.
“Tsk.” “Those ridiculous manga ideas from my previous life really are useful sometimes.” Poseidon rotated his wrist.
That punch hadn’t relied on brute force alone.
Over the past decade, he had been developing a technique that combined his growing authority as the Sea God with inspiration drawn from memories of his previous life.
By using his divine authority as the core and treating the surrounding world as an extension of his body… He could influence the “water veins” flowing through the land itself and manipulate the echoes of force hidden within everything around him.
The result dramatically amplified every strike.
He called the technique… Flow Field Rotation.
During these ten years, Poseidon had never been idle.
Besides fighting in the war, he had used Gaia’s power to create a peculiar training artifact known as the Pillar of Heaven.
There, he subjected himself to training so brutal it bordered on self-torture, constantly tempering his divine body while deepening his understanding of his authority.
As a result… Even legendary Titans like Atlas and Menoetius—figures who should have ranked among the strongest in mythology—were no longer true opponents for the current Poseidon, whose control over his divine authority had nearly reached its very source.
And Poseidon was perfectly content with that.
After all… He had made Styx a promise.
Officially, his role was to “hold back” Iapetus and his two sons.
Each battle looked fierce enough to shake heaven and earth.
Yet every blow was carefully controlled.
He simply knocked them away each time.
If he truly wished to kill them… With his current mastery over power, he could easily cripple—or even kill—them without attracting much attention.
But… A promise was a promise.
⸻ The war between Zeus’s alliance of the younger generation of gods and Kronos’s Titan race continued for a full ten years.
The flames of war spread across the world.
Mountains crumbled.
Rivers changed course.
Countless lives were lost.
Even the Divine Realm itself seemed exhausted, bearing the scars of endless conflict.
Standing upon a high platform, Zeus looked down at the gathered gods.
Their morale remained unbroken… But the exhaustion etched across their faces could no longer be hidden.
By now, Zeus had reached a conclusion.
They could not continue this war of attrition any longer.
Such a struggle benefited no one.
Especially not their side.
Compared with the Titans, whose rule stretched back countless years… Their own foundation was still far too shallow.