CHAPTER 98: CHAPTER 98: THE BEGINNING OF THE QUEEN OF THE UNDERWORLD’S FALL

"Is this really how I should be doing it, Eros?"

Persephone blinked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, their gaze glimmering with a watery shimmer.

"Yes, that’s exactly how, just make your movements a bit softer. Don’t press so hard. Do it like I showed you earlier."

"Like this?"

Her tiny hands softened even more, carefully pressing against his back.

"Yep, that’s it. Just like that."

Eros let out a sigh of satisfaction, letting Persephone, cheeks flushed red, gently knead his back.

Yes, his back. What else would it be?

After being tormented by Styx for over half a month, he was absolutely exhausted.

Now was the perfect time for a bit of gentle massage to relieve the fatigue.

Back at the Ocean Throne, he’d enjoyed a different sea goddess massaging his shoulders every single day.

But here in the Underworld, space was vast and the population scarce.

For now, all he could do was coax this sweet and simple girl, his future Queen of the Underworld, into giving him a relaxing shoulder rub.

Not that any of it required skill. Just soft touches and indulgent enjoyment.

And in that regard, Persephone was a natural.

Everything he told her to do, she followed. Sometimes she even made unintentional little gestures that were utterly enchanting.

That said, after spending time recently with plenty of goddesses in the "large" and "extra-large" range, Persephone’s more modest "medium" size lacked a bit of... impact.

But medium had its charms too. When something was too overwhelming, it could actually kill the mood.

What really mattered was that soft, yielding sensation when she pressed against him, subtle, but enough to change shape ever so slightly. That was the kind of contact he liked.

"I’m done! My hands are so sore!"

After a while, Persephone sat up with a huff. Whether her hands were really sore or her face just too hot to continue, Eros couldn’t tell.

With both Hades and Demeter absent, she was getting completely swept along by Eros’s coaxing.

Demeter had sheltered her too well, leaving her way too naïve, especially when it came to the boundary between men and women.

Although... maybe she was just secretly a little rascal in disguise.

Honestly, Eros couldn’t say for sure. Was this massage a reward for him, or for her?

"Your hands are sore?"

He took her hand in his, warm fingertips gently pressing along her knuckles and joints.

Her already rosy cheeks deepened into a full-blown blush. She looked like a melting marshmallow.

Seriously, what kind of Spring Goddess doesn’t act a little... springy?

Right now, Eros could probably talk her into anything, and she’d just nod along in a daze.

With a teasing smile, he leaned in.

"You massaged me just now... now it’s my turn to massage you."

"Come on, lie down."

Still dazed, Persephone obediently prepared to lie on her stomach, but Eros stopped her.

"No, no, that’s not it. I want you lying face up."

"Huh? But..."

Persephone looked puzzled, but she didn’t resist as he gently pushed her down into position.

"I’m me. You’re you. We’re not the same."

Of course they weren’t. If he were the one lying down, then there’d be some very classic "future grasping" techniques going on.

But Eros wasn’t in a rush. Rushing into it with Persephone wouldn’t be satisfying.

He liked the idea of slowly guiding a pure-hearted girl like her, teaching her first, then savoring her later.

Even now, as she lay before him, Eros didn’t remove her thin white gauze dress.

Instead, his hand slipped under the loose neckline, palm gliding across her smooth, jade-like skin.

His hand gently traced along her collarbone, sliding over soft curves and down the elegant lines of her stomach.

"This... this isn’t right, is it?"

Persephone had only ever fooled around with her sisters before. To be touched like this by someone else...

"Of course it’s not right."

Eros whispered in her ear, his fingers continuing their dance across her skin, circling gently along her chest and tracing down her waist.

"That’s why... it’s our secret."

"If your mother finds out, she’ll be furious."

The strange sensations flooding her body made her eyes shimmer like rippling spring water, on the verge of overflowing.

Her delicate toes curled. Her mind blurred.

Only when Eros mentioned "mother" did a flicker of clarity return to her gaze.

"But Mother, she..."

"If she gets mad, then you won’t get to do this anymore. And you don’t want that, do you?"

Eros’s voice was warm, coaxing, gently reeling her in.

"You’re Demeter’s daughter, yes, but you’re also Persephone."

"Daughters should listen to their mothers... but isn’t it time you had your own thoughts too?"

"So, do you want me to keep going?"

Eros’s hand stopped.

He waited patiently for her response.

Persephone bit her lip. Her heart was caught in limbo, hanging on the edge of yes and no, leaving her deeply flustered.

But those eyes of hers, so glazed and overflowing, told Eros everything he needed to know.

"...Okay."

Eros had always considered Apollo one of his closest friends.

Among all the gods’ divine gifts, Apollo’s [Music] was both the most charming and the most practical.

Not only did it woo women... it moved them.

Years of experience with stringed instruments had made Eros’s fingers exceptionally skilled, nimble, fluid, and precise.

You know that phrase, "the thick strings resound like urgent rain, the fine strings whisper like lovers"?

That was exactly the vibe.

His touch was like a rhythm game, each note a perfectly timed press.

As his fingers danced across her body, it felt like he was playing a divine melody, each stroke pulling a soft, breathy gasp from her lips.

When it came to the next "tier" of techniques, those had to be customized for each person.

And with Persephone? Eros could already tell she was going to be easy to please.

Even without his guidance, her natural curiosity and enthusiasm in this area were burning hot.

It wouldn’t be long before she’d be the one begging to "play this game" again on her own.

No wonder Demeter had kept her so isolated from the other gods. If this kind of reputation spread...

Tsk tsk tsk.

Still, what Eros found even more intriguing was this: Demeter herself, also an Earth Mother, also a fertility goddess, could she be just like her daughter?

...Damn. When did he become like this?

Thinking about what’s in the bowl while still staring at what’s in the pot? He must’ve been corrupted by the Greek atmosphere.

Shaking off the thought like tossing out dirty dishwater, Eros suddenly felt lighter.

He gently tucked the now-sleeping Persephone in before quietly stepping out of the room.

Technically, Hades hadn’t forbidden him from leaving.

In fact, he hadn’t placed any restrictions at all. No guards, no divine jailers, not even a proper confinement.

But this was the Underworld, after all.

Just like Zeus’s domain, every movement Eros made here was under Hades’s watchful gaze.

Which meant Demeter couldn’t hope to snatch Persephone back by force.

By now, she’d likely returned to Olympus... to confront Zeus directly.

And indeed, just as Eros had predicted, after only a short recovery, Demeter stormed out of the Underworld and made straight for the heavens.

"ZEEEEEUUUUUS!!!"

Demeter tore through the Celestial Throne Hall like a force of nature. The guards, Nike and the others, couldn’t even slow her down.

"Demeter! What madness are you screaming about this time?!"

From the middle of the throne room, Hera emerged, veil covering her face, brows furrowed in irritation.

"Don’t yell in front of the throne. Show some respect."

Demeter looked up at her, her already furious face curling into a sneer.

"Hera, you should be calling me ’Elder Sister.’"

"If this were a private conversation, sure, I’d call you Second Sister. But here, in front of the Celestial Throne, I am the Queen of the Gods."

Hera stood firm, unyielding. The two sisters stared each other down like storm clouds clashing.

Even blood siblings had conflicts, especially when they’d both once been married to the same god.

Honestly, the friction between Demeter and Hera was worse than that between Demeter and Hades.

"I don’t have time to argue with you. Move. I need to see Zeus!"

Demeter didn’t care about sparring with Hera. She only wanted to see Zeus,

To demand why she had done nothing to stop Persephone’s abduction. Why she had left her daughter helpless in the hands of the Underworld.

At first, Demeter hadn’t blamed Zeus. She thought she could handle it on her own.

But when Hades revealed the full scope of his power, she realized things were far beyond her control.

And yet, Zeus... just stood by and did nothing?

What was her angle?

Demeter couldn’t help but wonder: had Zeus been scheming behind the scenes from the very beginning?

After all, she had occasionally caught Zeus looking at Persephone in... less-than-motherly ways.

With motive and opportunity aligned, Demeter’s suspicion exploded into a storm of rage.

"Zeus has more important things to deal with. She won’t see you."

Hera remained calm, still blocking her path.

The air crackled with tension. Even Nike standing nearby looked like she wanted to cry.

Please, dear goddesses... this isn’t a place for mortals like me. I miss the quiet of the River Styx.

In the end, it was Demeter who took a step back.

"Fine. So Zeus is too afraid to face me?"

She gritted her teeth, eyes blazing with madness.

"Since she won’t come to me... I’ll make her come to me."

"As long as Persephone is not back in my arms... I will not let this earth yield a single harvest."

"Let every seed rot to mud. Let no life bloom from soil."

"When this world is swallowed by famine and death, let’s see if she still refuses to speak to me!"

With those venomous words, Demeter turned and stormed out of the Celestial Throne.

She meant it.

And when Demeter made a vow like that, she always followed through.

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100 P.S = 1 Extra Chapter

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