The fourth to be separated was the goddess of reproduction and fertility—White-Armed Hera.
Beautiful, with bright eyes and golden sandals, Hera's divine body radiated the warmth and light of motherhood. Her flawless, noble visage was both majestic and serene.
The fifth was the great mother goddess of agriculture and harvest—gentle and nurturing Demeter.
Her presence carried the fragrance of the earth itself. With her return, the whole land rejoiced, bursting into lush abundance and overflowing harvest.
Then came the sixth—Hestia, the source of fire, the warm and beautiful goddess who symbolized eternal life and civilization.
Thus, the gods who had been conceived and swallowed were once again brought forth through Zeus's authority of Division.
They were reborn—awakened from a nightmare, restored to themselves, reembracing the light.
Through this upheaval, Hestia became the youngest elder, while Zeus became the eldest child.
As though the curse of a youngest son overthrowing the God-King had ended in this very moment.
Fate had long laid the groundwork for all of it.
All the laws that Kronos had devoured were now separated once again, and the divine power he had painstakingly accumulated over countless eons was now divided—nearly half of it taken by the five gods.
This was no longer merely a ruined plan—it was an utter, bloody loss.
He had been brought to his weakest state—and only a God-King weakened to such an extreme could even possibly be defeated.
The one and only chance—Zeus had seized it perfectly.
Even more smoothly than expected.
Kronos truly was his father's son—he had inherited the arrogance of Uranus in full.
The prideful God-King had been completely unguarded.
And yet—even now, when Kronos was in such a pitiful state—it still wasn't over.
Zeus struck again, showing no mercy, forcibly separating the "Harvest" authority connected to his own essence and merging it with himself.
Even the God-King's faltering courage was stripped and absorbed.
Unfortunately, the attempt to touch upon the most crucial creative law failed—the instant was over.
Zeus stopped decisively and shouted, "Go!"
His voice exploded like thunder within the divine palace, echoing with undeniable authority in the ears of the newly reborn gods.
At that moment, he had less than a third of his full strength remaining, and the others had only just been "reborn"—their power still unstable and not yet fully under their control. This was not the time for a fight.
The gods, freshly awakened, did not hesitate for even a moment. At once, they fled with Zeus from Mount Othrys.
Though they had been swallowed, that didn't mean they were ignorant.
Law-gods were born knowing; their divine spirits had not been erased. Even during their gestation, they had gained understanding of the world.
More than that, having been inside the God-King himself—they had seen and perceived so much more.
All of them understood the extent of the God-King's power all too clearly. If they didn't run now, there would be no time left!
Even the now-weakened Kronos—reduced to his lowest—was not someone they could defeat as they were.
After all, they too were at their weakest—newly formed bodies not yet acclimated, their strength far from its peak.
In fact, this was the ideal time for the God-King to devour them again.
Their objective had been fully accomplished. There could be no further complications. No one knew what an enraged God-King might do.
Sure enough, just as the gods flew from the palace, a thunderous roar shook the heavens and the earth like a collapsing mountain or a tidal wave.
It was the God-King's wrath, echoing across the universe. In an instant, countless mortals were reduced to ash, their existence erased by the fire of his fury.
From high above Mount Othrys, Zeus called out, "Mother! Go!"
Rhea, already prepared, followed immediately without hesitation.
The deed was done. There was no more reason to remain hidden, and no need to endure humiliation any longer. Staying on Mount Othrys now would be too dangerous.
Zeus would never allow her to face Kronos's fury alone—Rhea could not endure that wrath.
Zeus's lips curled into a cold, sharp smile—a touch of triumph flickered in his eyes. Only now did the immense pressure upon him finally begin to lift.
The most critical step had been completed—but the matter wasn't over yet. Before leaving, he would commit one final, earth-shattering act.
Without hesitation, he accelerated beyond the speed of light, tearing through space, and with his indestructible divine body, he slammed with full force into the summit of Mount Othrys.
This was no mere physical collision—but a clash of divine law and will.
The mighty, towering Mount Othrys—symbol of the God-King's majesty—collapsed with a thunderous crash beneath Zeus's titanic blow!
The mountain shattered, erupting like a solar system exploding—debris like a rain of stars filled the sky, and clouds of dust blotted out the world.
The very earth trembled violently, groaning as if it were being torn apart.
The terrible roar echoed across the entire world, resonating in every corner.
It was as if a funeral bell had been rung for a decaying order—a mournful dirge for the end of an age.
It was the death knell for the God-King.
Before leaving, Zeus had smashed the mountain that represented Kronos's limitless authority—the symbolic center of cosmic order.
This was not just a physical destruction—it was a total insult and shattering of Kronos's supreme status. The most brutal attack and humiliation.
Still dazed by disbelief and fury, Kronos could only watch in stunned silence as the mountain that symbolized his rule crumbled into ruins.
And even then, his thoughts were drowning in rage and denial—the shock pierced him like a blade, stabbing deep into his heart, making it impossible to accept the reality before him.
His divine dominion had once included creation, agriculture, growth, harvest, abundance, fertility, courage, procreation, fire, the sea, shadow, and more—so many powerful laws, forming the supreme might that once ruled the cosmos.
But now, in a single moment—most of it was gone. In that instant, he had been reduced to a shell of his former self. His power plummeted. His majesty—shattered.
Even the divine energy he had built over eons—half of it vanished!
This loss was beyond comprehension. Kronos could not accept it.
He wondered bitterly whether he was still lost in a drunken dream—whether this was all just a bizarre, absurd hallucination brought on by too much wine.
And yet, as if that weren't enough, Zeus, on his way out, casually dealt one last blow:
He flung Philyra—the so-called "devoted daughter" of Oceanus who had dared challenge the Queen's authority and hid in one of Othrys's peaks—mercilessly beneath the crumbling mountain.
And left her there.
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