The Nameless Heir
Chapter 75: Invitation From the Gods

Chapter 75: Invitation From the Gods

The whole school went quiet, staring at the demigod who just appeared out of nowhere. He was someone every demigod admired. Someone they all wanted to be like.

So he wasn’t surprised when they all went silent.

So he spoke to break the silence, his voice low and edged with disappointment.

"What are you fools doing?"

"Show some respect."

"It’s a god."

"Kneel, students."

Their heads bowed one by one as Hercules walked past them through the center of the courtyard, each step heavy, deliberate—towering over everyone like a statue carved from greatness itself.

A second later, the massive lion dropped behind him with a heavy thud, its golden eyes locked onto Kael. It was quiet. Still. And just as threatening.

Their eyes locked into him, like hunters sizing up prey before striking.

"Hello, cousin," Hercules said, his voice deep—calm, but charged with power, like the rumble before a storm.

Kael sat there, still, letting the god approach. He looked completely unbothered. His eyes locked on the god and his lion, staring back like they were nothing more than an inconvenience.

"What brings the favorite son of Zeus here?" he muttered.

Hercules didn’t answer. His eyes went straight to Hermes’s limp body lying next to Kael—and Kael noticed.

"My apologies," Kael said, voice dry. "I didn’t know we were having guests. I would’ve prepared a feast."

He gave a light tug on the chain. Hermes’s limp body flew toward him, landing next to Hercules’s feet.

Kael let out a faint smile.

"First time we’ve ever met, and I still brought a gift. What can I say?"

Hercules looked down at Hermes’s body, then back at Kael with a grin.

"I did, actually."

He lifted the club slightly, rolling his shoulder like he was just getting warmed up.

"Death. Pain. Judgment. Call it whatever you want."

His expression didn’t shift. He remained calm, casual.

"Death—experienced it many times. Not a fan. It stung in the beginning..." He shrugged. "Now? I barely feel it."

The lion took a step forward, golden eyes locked on Kael. Its head lowered, letting out a low growl like it’s about to pounce at its target.

It stopped close enough for Kael to feel its breath—hot, damp, far too close.

Kael didn’t flinch. He stared into its eyes and muttered, cold and dry—

"Damn cat. Your breath stinks."

He shifted his gaze to Hercules.

"Control your pet."

"He’s not someone I control," Hercules said, flicking his arm dismissively.

"He’s not mine to command—he belongs to Zeus." His tone dipped, more amused than regretful.

"He is Loyal. Obedient. And Merciless."

He glanced at the beast, then back at Kael.

"And right now? He smells what you did."

A pause. A shrug.

"Hurt a son of Zeus... and he answers to that. I’m just letting him do what he was made to do."

Kael didn’t move. Something flickered in his eyes. It was amusement.

"Fine. Have it your way."

The beast’s face shifted. It let out a low growl that said, you can’t stop me now.

Then, from the darkness beside Kael, another voice emerged. It chuckled—low and sharp.

"A king of beasts? Please. You’re a mutt with a crown."

He loomed over the beast. He tilted his head slightly, a cold sneer forming.

"And if you bare your teeth at my master again... I’ll rip them out, one by one."

The beast flinched, stumbling backward. That growl?

It never made it out.

Kael smiled—calm, unshaken.

Then the sky split again.

A shadow tore through the clouds—then hit the rooftop with enough force to shake the stone.

Cracks spread beneath its weight.

Its scales caught the light—dull, cracked, chipped at the edges. No shine. Just wear.

Between its jaws hung the severed head of Hermes’s serpent. The fangs were broken. Venom leaked from the jaw in thin, lifeless strands. The nerves were still firing. Barely.

It dropped the corpse at Kael’s feet.

Then it raised its head and let out a low, guttural sound—closer to grinding metal than breath—and spread its wings. Wide enough to black out the sun. The courtyard went dark.

No words.

The air shifted.

Kael tilted his head slightly, a grin creeping in—quiet, amused. Arrogant on purpose. Like he already knew how this will end.

His voice cut through the quiet, cold and dry.

"Does Zeus enjoys watching his sons get dragged through the dirt."

Hercules hefted his giant club over one shoulder, then threw his head back and laughed—loud, unfiltered, the kind of laugh only a man born for battle could make.

"I’m not here to fight you..." Hercules said, planting his feet with slow, deliberate purpose. "As much as I want to."

His breath came out steady. Quiet. His gaze moved across the crowd—like he was making sure every last one of them was listening.

Then, louder—his voice rising just enough to press against the silence:

"Zeus sent an invitation."

Then Hercules continued, his gaze steady, his tone colder:

"An invitation... to join the Twelve Gods of Olympus."

The words lingered in the air, heavy and clear—loud enough for the gods themselves to hear. Hercules had made sure of it.

Kael didn’t move. He was caught off guard. This is not what he expected. But he let him continue.

Hercules continued, his voice steady—measured, like he already knew the answer.

"With Zeus’s help... you’ll grow stronger than you ever imagined."

The crowd stirred.

"It’s not a bad offer," Kael said—loud enough for everyone to hear, a trace of excitement creeping into his voice.

Hercules smiled.

"It’s a blessing no one could resist."

"But..."

He just sat there—still, composed.

Then his voice came out low, steady. Cold.

"I have a request."

He got off his throne and step forward—slow, deliberate.

The shadows at his feet stirred, reacting like loyal hounds sensing their master’s mood. They rippled outward in small waves... patient. Expectant.

"What is it?" he asked, a confused look crossing his face.

"I want my father back."

Kael’s voice was steady—but beneath it, something sharp began to rise.

"I want my mother’s smile back."

His eyes burned—not with tears, but with fury held too long.

"Are you stupid?" he asked, the words cutting clean. "You think I’d set foot in a place where my father was never even welcomed?"

He took a another step forward, shadows curling at his boots.

"The day I step into Olympus..."

His voice dropped, low and steady.

"That’ll be the day I bring Olympus down—gods and all."

Hercules didn’t move.

The smile on Hercules’s face faltered. His grip tightened around the club. But he didn’t speak. He just listened.

Kael’s voice came low—measured. Each word heavy enough to bend the air.

"Tell Zeus to stay out of my business."

He took one more step forward.

"I’ll rule my part of the world. He stays in his."

Another step. They are face to face.

"But if he crosses that line... if he so much as breathes in my direction—"

Kael raised his hand—slow, deliberate. His fingers curled like they already held the gods by the throat.

"I swear on the River Styx..."

His voice fell to a whisper—but it cracked the silence wide open.

"If they get in my way one more time..." His gaze didn’t waver. "I’ll bathe Olympus in the blood of gods."

Hercules’s jaw flexed—once, sharp. His eyes burned, but he said nothing.

Then, without a word, he lifted the club—and brought it crashing down.

But before it could land, the shadows shifted.

Pride stepped out of the darkness, slow and silent—his figure cutting through the air like it had always been waiting there. He raised one arm—and caught the blow mid-swing, like it meant nothing.

The ground cracked under his heels, dust shivering across the stone—but he didn’t move.

His voice came low, thick with restrained violence.

"A hero," he growled, "should know when to kneel before a god."

He crushed the club in pieces, and with his free hand, Pride struck Hercules hard across the shoulder.

The impact sent him crashing to one knee.

The earth beneath him cracked. His breath hitched. The weight wasn’t just physical—it was something deeper. Older. Divine.

Pride stepped forward, his presence swallowing the space between them.

"Know your place, hero."

His voice was cold now. Absolute.

"There is a vast, eternal gap between a servant of Olympus... and the ruler of the underworld."

He leaned in, shadows rising behind him like a crown.

"You were forged to serve gods."

He turned his gaze briefly toward Kael.

"He was born to command them."

Hercules rose slowly, his breath uneven—shoulders heaving with fury and humiliation.

"So that’s your answer..." he muttered, his voice tight.

His eyes locked onto Kael.

"You leave me no choice."

He straightened, then raised his voice—shouting for all to hear.

"A message from Zeus!"

The courtyard froze.

"Anyone who brings Kael Voss—alive or dead—will be granted godhood. The one who claims him will rise and live among the gods as one of their own!"

Gasps echoed through the crowd. Some flinched. Others stepped back.

Without a word, Hercules turned. He seized Hermes and launched into the sky, golden light trailing behind him.

His beast followed—glancing at Kael one last time.

Pride moved instantly, ready to chase—but a hand caught his shoulder.

"Let him go," he said quietly.

His gaze stayed skyward.

"Let Olympus come. Their pride will end the age of gods."

Then he turned to the students beside him.

Their blades plunged into his back—quick, desperate, like they thought they had a chance.

Didn’t even flinch.

He kept talking... like nothing had happened.

"Now you think your blades can kill me?" he muttered, voice low.

"You think what you did was smart?"

His head tilted slightly. A faint smile. No warmth behind it.

"You insects."