Death Knocks on Hell’s Door Chapter 25

Chapter 25 God of Fire

A hundred years later. Mount Olympus.

In a breathtakingly beautiful rose garden, a divine figure with golden hair leaned down to inhale the fragrance of a white rose. The scene was pure and enchanting. The flower fairy guarding the garden blushed. No matter how many times she had seen this sight, she was always struck by the celestial beauty of the god. He was so exquisite that even the flowers paled in comparison.

The God of Beauty was the most beloved god of Olympus, adored by all. A century ago, Venus had arrived on Mount Olympus, riding a chariot drawn by white doves. His unparalleled beauty instantly captivated every god and goddess on the divine mountain. Only the three virgin goddesses, devoted to their own ideals, remained indifferent to the God of Love and Beauty. But aside from them, he had won the affection of all.

Zeus, the King of the Gods, granted him a magnificent palace on the divine mountain. Apollo, the God of Sun, favored him by casting extra sunlight upon his rose garden. Dionysus, the God of Wine, gifted him the finest vintages, while Hermes, the God of Commerce, bestowed upon him countless gold coins. Ares, the God of War, presented him with a golden chariot, and Hephaestus, the God of Fire and Blacksmithing, crafted exquisite jewelry in his honor…… The gifts from the gods piled high in Venus’ palace. He not only attracted the love of the goddesses, but also won the favor of the male gods.

True beauty transcended gender. Venus possessed an allure beyond mortal comprehension, one so divine that all, regardless of their sex, found themselves drawn to him, worshiping at the hem of his sacred robes.

But the gods were not without selfish desires.

The Greek gods were notorious among divine pantheons for their lack of moral fiber. Seldom did they truly fall in love, and most unions were driven by desire rather than devotion. Venus’ breathtaking beauty awakened that very desire in them. They wished to possess him, to share a bed with him.

In his youth, Venus had been innocent and pure, like a blank canvas, embodying the very essence of love in its most untainted form. Even the three virgin goddesses, who distanced themselves from him due to their clashing ideals, could not bring themselves to despise him entirely. They merely chose to keep their distance.

But all the gods knew that Venus’ divine duty extended beyond love and beauty. He was also the God of Pleasure. To seek love, to embrace passion, to indulge in intimacy, this was his innate instinct, one that could never be changed.

On the day Venus came of age, he would fully merge with his divine essence, gaining complete control over his divine powers. From that moment on, he would become the true God of Love and Pleasure, the embodiment of mature, unrestrained passion.

For a god as naturally amorous as Venus, the idea of lifelong devotion to a single partner was impossible. In modern terms, one might call him a natural scumbag. But considering the generally low moral standards of the Olympian gods, this was hardly unusual. On Olympus, fidelity was a rare virtue, and any god with fewer than three lovers was already considered remarkably loyal.

The gods all understood this. They showered Venus with gifts and affection, not out of pure adoration, but to win his favor while he was still young and impressionable, hoping to be the first to claim him when he came of age.

If they could not be the only lover of the God of Beauty, then being his first lover would be the next best thing. Who wouldn’t want to be the first to pluck this white rose that all of Olympus coveted?

Had Venus been fully grown, he would have seen through their schemes in an instant. He would have enjoyed playing them in the palm of his hand, leading them around by the nose. But in his youth, he was blissfully unaware of the predatory nature of those around him. To him, they were nothing more than kind and caring big brothers.

As Venus lowered his head to inhale the fragrance of the roses, a red-haired youth limped into the garden.

“Venus!”

Venus turned, a smile blooming on his lips. “Hephaestus? What brings you here?”

The newcomer was none other than Hephaestus, the God of Fire, son of Zeus and Hera.

Half of his face was strikingly handsome, with a dangerously alluring beauty, but the other half bore flame-like markings that stretched from the corner of his eye to his forehead. He did not resemble a god at all. He looked more like an ominous demon.

The flames were his birthmark. When Hera first saw his face at birth, she had screamed in horror, unable to believe she had given birth to such a hideous monster. Disgusted, she had cast Hephaestus off Mount Olympus, leaving him crippled from the fall. Because of this, his relationship with his mother had remained irreparably strained.

Due to his scarred face and crippled leg, Hephaestus had been mocked and ostracized throughout his youth on Mount Olympus. As a result, he became withdrawn and silent, preferring solitude over the company of gods. He despised socializing and rarely left his palace, shutting himself away from the rest of Olympus. But when he came of age and fully merged with his divine essence, he not only became the God of Fire but also awakened his domains as the God of Craftsmanship and Blacksmithing. His skill was unparalleled. The male gods requested weapons, the goddesses desired jewelry, and in the end, they all treated him like nothing more than a tool god.

The socially inept Hephaestus didn’t know how to refuse. He always fulfilled their requests without protest, seldom receiving gratitude in return. It was as if he had been born unlikable, and he had long since accepted it.

On the day Venus arrived on Mount Olympus, the newborn god was immediately surrounded by gods and worshipped like a celestial jewel. From the shadows, Hephaestus stood at a distance, watching as the newcomer effortlessly won the hearts of the gods. The God of Beauty was breathtakingly beautiful. Without thinking, Hephaestus raised a hand to cover the ugly birthmark on his face, feeling more out of place than ever.

A subtle jealousy took root in his heart. At first, Hephaestus resented the God of Beauty. He even thought darkly that the gods loved Venus simply because they wanted to sleep with him.

One day, Olympus held the Festival of the Gods, a sacred day honoring all deities. Mortals offered prayers and sacrifices, while the gods themselves exchanged gifts at the great banquet. Venus, as always, was the center of attention. He received more gifts than anyone, so many that his arms overflowed, the table before him was buried, and the excess spilled onto the floor.

Hephaestus, meanwhile, had crafted countless weapons and jewelry at the request of others, giving them away without receiving so much as a thank-you. And in return, he received nothing.

He sat at his table, hands empty. His spot was barren, devoid of gifts.

Then, Venus approached. Struggling to hold the mountain of gifts in his arms, he hesitated for a moment before asking, a little sheepishly, “Excuse me, may I place some of my gifts on your table? I don’t have any more space.”

Was he showing off? Hephaestus sneered inwardly. But he was never good at dealing with gods, let alone rejecting them. So, without a word, he silently pushed aside his untouched food and wine, clearing a space on the table.

“Thank you.” Venus smiled, setting his gifts down before tilting his head and asking, “Did you not receive any presents?”

……So after flaunting his own, he wanted to rub it in as well?

Venus thought for a moment, then conjured a white rose in his hand and held it out to Hephaestus. “Here, this is for you.”

Hephaestus froze.

The surrounding gods stared, their shock quickly turning into jealousy. Venus had given a white rose to the God of Fire! They had spent so much effort trying to win his favor, yet not one of them had ever received such a gift from him!

Hephaestus felt his face heat up. His hands trembled slightly as he took the delicate flower, stumbling over his words. “Th-Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me.” Venus beamed, his smile as sweet as honey. “The divine markings on your face are really cool.”

Hephaestus instinctively raised a hand to cover the corner of his eye. “They’re not divine marking, uh, just a birthmark.”

Venus’ emerald-green eyes widened in surprise. “So you were born looking this cool? I’m jealous.”

He’s jealous of me? Hephaestus thought, confused. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

Before he could find an answer, Venus had already turned to leave, his retreating figure as beautiful as a dream.

Hephaestus watched Venus’ retreating figure, mesmerized. In that moment, he thought that the God of Beauty was indeed worthy of being favored by the world.

Even he couldn’t help but fall in love.

From then on, Hephaestus, the famously reclusive god of Mount Olympus, suddenly began venturing outside, specifically, to Venus’ rose-covered palace. He crafted countless exquisite pieces of jewelry, each one made solely for Venus. Even when other goddesses begged for similar designs, he refused —vsomething he had never done before.

Hephaestus had fallen in love. But unlike the others, his love was not born from lust. The God of Fire had given his heart sincerely. But burdened by his own insecurities, he was content just to be Venus’ friend.

He knew all too well that the other gods harbored impure intentions toward Venus. But what could he do? The young god was still naive, extending kindness to everyone without suspicion. Unable to warn him outright, Hephaestus could only watch over him in silence.

“I made another necklace for you,” Hephaestus said one day.

Venus sighed in both delight and mild exasperation. “Hephaestus, you’ve already given me a hundred necklaces! Even if I grew ten more heads, I wouldn’t be able to wear them all.”

Hephaestus smiled. “Venus deserves the finest things in the world. Whether you wear them or not doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have them.”

“Then I’ll gladly accept it. Thank you!” Venus beamed before dashing back into his palace. He opened his dressing cabinet, pulling out drawer after drawer, but each one was overflowing with jewelry, glimmering under the light. Running out of space, he finally reached for the lowest drawer, which held only an ice-blue crown.

He still remembered the God of Sea lifting him from the waves that day and placing the crown upon his head. But whatever the God of Sea had said back then, Venus could no longer recall.

In fact, he couldn’t even remember what the God of Sea looked like.

After all, a god’s memory was never the sharpest in the moments following their birth. A hundred years had already passed. It was already impressive that Venus even remembered the crown had come from the God of Sea at all.

He placed the necklace into the drawer, then hurried back outside.

Hephaestus was still waiting. He had spent a long time gathering his courage before finally speaking. “……Venus, would you like to take a walk by the river with me this afternoon?”

Venus’ expression shifted, a hint of hesitation appearing on his flawless face. “I’m sorry, Hephaestus, I promised Ares that we would go horseback riding together.”

Hephaestus: “……”

The God of Fire and the God of War were brothers, both sons of Zeus and Hera. But Hephaestus had never been close to their mother, and naturally, he had no bond with Ares either. Thanks to Hera’s blatant favoritism, Hephaestus had always carried a quiet resentment toward his younger brother.

Yet the bitterness born from their mother’s favoritism was nothing compared to the pain of watching Venus choose the handsome Ares over him.

He had long given up on Hera, but Venus was his salvation, his source of hope.

Hephaestus wanted to protest, to stop him from going. But what reason did he have? He knew Ares desired Venus, but even Ares would not dare act before Venus came of age.

He forced a smile, though his eyes darkened. “……Alright. I hope you have fun. What about tomorrow?”

Venus: “Tomorrow works!”

Hephaestus finally looked a little happier. With a lighter step, he left the rose garden.

No sooner had Hephaestus left than Venus, who was just breathing a sigh of relief, saw the tall and handsome God of War enter.

Venus: “……”

Ares warmly invited, “Venus, would you like to go horseback riding with me this afternoon?”

Venus blinked his emerald-green eyes and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Ares. I already promised Hephaestus I’d take a walk with him by the river.”

Ares frowned. “Then I’ll just go tell Hephaestus that your afternoon belongs to me instead.”

Venus shook his head in disapproval. “Ares, respecting the order of promises is basic courtesy.”

Ares didn’t want to risk upsetting the God of Beauty, so despite his reluctance, he sighed in defeat. “Fine. What about tomorrow?”

Not tomorrow either. Tomorrow he had to take a walk by the river with Hephaestus.

Venus said calmly, “How about the day after tomorrow?”

Ares: “Alright then.”

He left, though his heavy steps betrayed his frustration. Two days felt far too long to wait.

Venus lingered cautiously, making sure no other gods would suddenly appear with an invitation. Once certain he was in the clear, he quietly slipped away from Olympus.

He saw Hephaestus and Ares as friends, perhaps even as older brothers. He didn’t have the heart to reject them outright, so he could only make excuses to avoid them.

But he had already made plans to go hunting in the forest with Adonis.

Staying on the mountain all year round was too boring. Venus had once secretly snuck down the mountains to play on his birthplace, the island of Cyprus, where he met a handsome mortal man named Adonis.

The moment he laid eyes on him, Venus believed he had found love.

From then on, he often slipped away from Olympus just to see Adonis. Technically, gods weren’t supposed to leave the mountain before coming of age, but he wanted to see Adonis so badly that he chose to break the rules in secret.

In a way, Venus was still pure-hearted and full of innocent affection. He hadn’t yet learned to see the gods of Olympus as fish in a pond. But even now, he was already showing a natural talent for effortlessly navigating the Shura field.
A/N:

This is a story about a natural-born scum and an obsessive madman. At the beginning, neither of them understands true love, so no need to feel sorry for Poseidon. To tame a true sea king, you have to be truly ruthless.

It just dawned on me that this seems to be yet another story about defying divine nature for love. My taste really hasn’t changed for decades.

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