Yes, a lot of things to kill and a lot of girls to fuck.

Chapter 19: Burning the lost.

The battle was over. With the hive mind destroyed, the undead followed suit, the spell binding them broken. Yet, despite this victory, the rising sun cast a red shine over Delphi, a stark reminder of the lives we had lost. Though our tactics had prevailed, the cost of victory weighed heavily on the citizens of the city. Each life lost was a piece of their hearts, and they deserved to be honored.
We built small makeshift boats for the fallen, placing two coins over their eyes to pay Charon for their passage to the afterlife. When the boats drifted far enough into the sea, Delphi's archers, led by Iris, fired flaming arrows in unison, setting the vessels ablaze and sending the dead on their journey to Elysium. The flames flickered against the morning sky, a final farewell for the brave souls who defended their home.
I prepared the pyre for Solon. He had stood by me as a leader, sharing the weight of every decision and sacrifice. Placing two drachmas gently over his closed eyes, I pushed his boat into the water. The gentle lapping of the waves seemed to echo the heaviness in my heart. As his ship drifted farther away, the weight of my choices pressed down on me, relentless and unforgiving.
I felt a soft hand on my shoulder, It was Iris, her expression a mix of compassion and resolve.
“You can’t blame yourself for what happened,” she said, her voice tender yet firm. “You saved lives, and the dead would be grateful knowing their families can see another day.”
She offered me the bow, her hand lingering for a moment before stepping aside. With a deep breath, I nocked the arrow, aiming it toward Solon’s pyre. The flaming arrow streaked through the air, striking the boat with precision. The fire quickly consumed the wooden vessel, flames burned brightly around Solon’s still figure as he passed into the embrace of the gods.
“I know,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “But there’s always a price to pay for the choices I make. I wish I could save everyone, but **** follows me. No matter what I do, I’ll always carry that burden.”
I turned to Iris, my hand instinctively finding hers. “It’s my pain to bear,” I continued, my voice steady with conviction. “But you all you’ve both been my strenght. You remind me there’s still hope, still something to fight for.”
She didn’t respond with words, but her eyes spoke volumes, reflecting the same unyielding determination I needed to keep moving forward.
As the last pyres burned in the distance, Erastus, stepped forward to address the crowd. His voice carried over the hushed assembly, steady and solemn.
“Brothers and sisters,” he began, his tone a mixture of sorrow and pride, “**** visited us yesterday, but we have endured, as we always do. Do not cry for those who gave their lives for Delphi. Rejoice that you knew them, that you shared in their love and their courage. Do not weep for their absence, but celebrate their sacrifice. They granted us another day to live, to protect what we hold dear.”
He paused, letting the words settle over the crowd. “Do not cry,” he repeated, “for today, we are alive because of them.”
His prayer to the gods was met with a chorus of voices, the people bowing their heads in unison. We, too, lowered our heads, paying silent tribute to the fallen. As the last of the flames faded into the horizon, a heavy stillness settled over the crowd—a quiet acknowledgment of the price we had paid

After the funeral, I made my way to the Oracle’s chambers, where the weight of the day still lingered heavily on my shoulders. Inside, I found Euclides tending to her frail and pallid form. The once-vibrant Oracle, the voice of Apollo himself, now lay motionless, her breaths shallow and strained.
“How is she doing?” I asked, my voice subdued but **** for some semblance of hope.
Euclides looked up, her expression solemn. “She’s not getting better,” she said softly, her voice tinged with sorrow.
“Dammit,” I muttered, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I hoped that with the hive mind destroyed, she’d at least show some sign of recovery.”
Euclides shook her head. “The curse afflicting her is no ordinary sickness. It’s beyond my healing abilities. I’ve done all I can.” She paused, hesitating before adding, “I fear there’s nothing we can do.”
I clenched my fists, my gaze shifting to the Oracle’s pale face. Her stillness was unsettling, her once luminous presence dimmed by the darkness of Erebosian magic.
As if sensing our despair, the Oracle stirred, her lips parting to whisper in a weak, rasping voice. “Chosen... staff...”
My heart skipped a beat as I leaned closer. “What did she say? Staff? What staff?"
Euclides placed a damp cloth on the Oracle’s forehead, her movements gentle and deliberate. “Sometimes her visions are not tied to the present,” she explained. “They could be glimpses of the future or something crucial to your path. You must interpret her words carefully.”
I frowned, the cryptic nature of the message gnawing at me. “Could the staff she mentioned have something to do with the curse?” I asked, more to myself than to Euclides.
“It might,” she replied, her voice steady but uncertain. “But that is for you to discover, Chosen. The Oracle has given what she can. The rest lies in your hands.”
The weight of her words settled over me like a shroud. With a final glance at the Pythia, I turned and left the chamber, my mind racing.
In the adjoining hall, the group was waiting for me, their expressions a mixture of concern and anticipation. Noor broke the silence.
“So, she’s still not with the living?” she asked, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.
“Looks like it,” I replied, slumping into a chair with an audible sigh. “As your leader, I’m going to be honest with you. I have no fucking clue what to do next.”
Iris moved closer, her hand brushing mine in a gesture of comfort. “You don’t have to carry this alone,” she said softly, her touch grounding me. I noticed Noor’s sharp glance, her lips tightening in mild annoyance, though she said nothing.
Iris’s confidence cut through the tension. “We should take the fight to them,” she declared, her tone resolute. “The Erebosian behind this curse is weakened. Now is the time to strike.”
Noor crossed her arms, leaning casually against the wall. “That’s a nice idea,” she said with a teasing edge. “But unless you have a map with a big arrow pointing to his lair, we’d have better luck finding a needle in a haystack.”
Iris shot her a glare, but before she could retort, Entinos stepped forward. “The sorceress is right,” he said in his usual calm, measured tone. “We’ve won this battle, but we’re blind. Charging forward recklessly would serve no purpose.”
I stood, trying to push past the frustration mounting within me. “There has to be something we’re missing,” I said, addressing the group. “If we sit here and do nothing, we’ll give him time to regain his strength. He’ll send something worse than undead next time. We need to act.”
Ikaro, leaning against the doorway, spoke up. “What about a spell, Noor? Something to locate him?”
Noor sighed, her tone pragmatic but not unkind. “I wish it were that simple. I know of recon and vision spells, but they require more than just a vague notion of what we’re looking for. Besides,” she added, her eyes narrowing slightly, “if this Erebosian has the power to curse an Oracle, he likely knows how to counteract any tracking magic.”
“Anyone else?” I asked, scanning the room. The silence that followed was heavy, everyone deep in thought.
The room hung heavy with silence, the weight of our uncertainty pressing down on each of us. Desperation gnawed at our edges, our collective frustration palpable. It felt as though the shadows of our own doubts threatened to consume us.
And then, in that moment of hopelessness, she appeared.
“I might have something to share with you,” a voice, clear and commanding, shattered the stillness.
A radiant, godlike light filled the room, blinding us momentarily. As it subsided, a figure emerged—her form impossibly perfect, her aura both comforting and awe-inspiring. Athena stood before us in her projection, her gaze sharp and discerning.
“It’s nice to see you alive and well,” she said, her voice warm yet carrying an unmistakable weight. Her piercing eyes settled on me, though the others were too stunned to speak.
I gestured toward the group around me, silently reminding her of their presence. Her eyes shifted to them, a subtle flicker of surprise crossing her divine features.
“Oh,” she murmured, as if only just noticing them. Her casual reaction drew a quiet chuckle from me, though I knew better than to voice it aloud.
Ikaro broke the silence first. “Sis… please tell me you’re seeing this too,” he stammered, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“I-I… I can’t believe it,” Iris whispered, her voice trembling. She instinctively dropped to her knees, bowing before Athena. Ikaro quickly followed suit, his usual bravado replaced by reverence.
Entinos, ever stoic, lowered himself in respectful silence, his head bowed. Noor, however, stood frozen, her shock evident. Unlike the others, she did not bow. Her loyalty lay with Ardvi, and the divine presence of a Greek goddess did little to sway her pride. Still, I noticed the subtle tension in her stance, as though the sheer weight of Athena’s power unsettled even her.
“There’s no need for that,” Athena said, her tone calm but firm as she motioned for the others to rise. “I am here as an equal.”
Iris quickly scrambled to her feet, her nerves evident. “I-I… yes, Athena,” she stammered, her usual composure faltering.
The sight of her flustered demeanor amused me, and I couldn’t suppress a small chuckle. Athena caught my expression and gave me a judging look. Though she tried to maintain her godlike air, I knew she was amused as well.
Turning back to me. “Forgive me for arriving unannounced, Kayn, but the moment I sensed the Erebosian’s magic weakening, I knew I had to contact you.” she said with a tone of urgency and fear for my well being.
“It’s okay,” I said, my voice steady. “We’re fine.”
Her sharp gaze softened, but her tone remained urgent. “Have you faced the Erebosian yet?”
“Not exactly,” I replied. “I defeated his mind-controlled ghoul in battle and stopped his undead horde from carrying out his plans.”
“Thank Zeus,” she exhaled, relief washing over her features. “You must avoid direct confrontation with an Erebosian for as long as possible. Their power is far more dangerous than anything you’ve faced so far.”
Athena’s voice softened further as she said, “Kayn, tell me everything. Their magic blinded me and the gods from watching over you. I need to understand what has happened.”
I nodded and began recounting the events of the last few days, detailing every battle, every clue, and every moment of confusion. She listened intently, her expression unwavering.
“...and now we don’t know what to do next. We want to defeat the Erebosian and save the Oracle, but we have no idea how to find him.”
Athena crossed her arms, her brows knitting together in thought. “It is as I feared,” she said after a long silence. “This is undoubtedly the work of an Erebosian, and there is no question—he is here.”
Ikaro, his earlier awe tempered by curiosity, found his voice. “You think he’s nearby?”
Athena nodded, her characteristic compassionate smile briefly brightening her face. “Not only that, I know where he is.” Her eyes gleamed with certainty as she looked at me, a proud smirk playing on her lips.
I couldn’t help but return her smirk. “Thought so,” I said. “You wouldn’t risk coming here unless you had vital information.”
She chuckled softly. “Who knows? Perhaps I simply wanted to see if your stubborn head remained intact.”
Her teasing tone disarmed me momentarily, and I caught the faintest trace of a smile before she returned to her godlike composure. She moved to the window, her gaze fixed on the distant peaks of Mount Parnassus.
“He has made a small hideout there,” she said, gesturing toward the looming mountain. “It is well-concealed, but his presence cannot escape me. That is where you will find him.”

“How do you know?” Entinos asked Athena, his voice calm but laced with suspicion. His keen eyes, usually indifferent, seemed to pierce through her. “How do you know this isn’t a trap laid by the Erebosian?”
Athena tilted her head, her expression unreadable at first. Then a smirk formed on her lips, a glimmer of pride flashing in her eyes. “Clever,” she remarked, her voice filled with approval. “It seems the people you’ve gathered, Kayn, are as astute as they are brave. It pleases me to see that wisdom and caution are valued among you.” She glanced my way, her gaze softening briefly.
I said nothing, but her words made my chest swell slightly with pride.
“I called on a favor from Hades,” Athena said, her smirk fading into a more serious expression.
The room seemed to tense at the name, the air almost growing colder.
“You what?” I asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “You went to him for help?”
Her lips curled into a faint, reassuring smile. “It was necessary, and nothing you need to worry about,” she replied, her voice gentle but firm. “In fact, he didn’t ask for anything in return.”
“Really?” I pressed, narrowing my eyes. “The god of the underworld, known for his deals, gave information without asking for something in return?”
Athena sighed softly, folding her arms. “Despite what mortals may think, Hades is one of the most honorable gods in existence. His image has been tarnished by time and storytelling, but he is not the villain he is often painted as.”
There was a note of admiration in her voice, and she added, “He did, however, ask about you.”
“Me?” My voice came out sharper than intended. I couldn’t hide my unease. “What could Hades possibly want from me?”
Her gaze remained steady, unshaken by my reaction. “Rest assured, all the gods are watching your work, Kayn,” she explained calmly. “Some, like Hades, are paying closer attention than others.”
I felt the weight of her words settle over me, heavier than any sword I had ever carried. Around the room, the others exchanged uneasy glances. We had known that the gods watched over us, but hearing it spoken so plainly only made the pressure more suffocating.
“But why us?” Iris asked, her voice soft but tinged with frustration. “What could Hades want from the living?”
Noor crossed her arms, her expression stony. “Indeed,” she murmured, her tone biting. It was clear she didn’t appreciate the interference of gods who were not her own.
Athena’s gaze flicked to Noor, but her reply came to the group as a whole. “I don’t know. I only told him what I deemed necessary—basic details about each of you. Nothing that would compromise your trust.” Her piercing gaze turned to me, her tone firm but almost apologetic. “Kayn, I suspect Hades will want to speak with you directly. Privately.”
The words sent a shiver down my spine. I knew an encounter with the god of the underworld was inevitable. One way or another, our paths would cross.
Ikaro’s voice broke the silence. “What about the Oracle?” he asked, his focus snapping back to the immediate problem. “Can you remove her curse?”
Athena opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak, Noor cut her off. “No, she cannot,” Noor said bluntly, her eyes locked on the goddess. “Not without killing her, that is.”
The words hung in the air like a blade, sharp and unyielding.
Athena turned her gaze toward Noor, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, to everyone’s surprise, the goddess chuckled. “You must be Noor,” she said with a slight smirk, her tone teasing but measured.
“Indeed, aleyeh,” Noor replied, the last word dripping with venom. Her posture was tense, her loyalty to Ardvi and disdain for the Olympians evident in every word and movement.
Athena’s smirk widened. “A tongue as sharp as your mind,” she said, her tone light but carrying an undercurrent of respect. Her eyes shifted to me, her smirk softening. “You certainly know how to pick them.”
The unexpected jab caught me off guard, and I let out a quiet chuckle. Iris joined in, the tension breaking slightly with her laughter.
Athena turned her attention back to Noor. “Do not mistake me for your enemy, Persian,” she said firmly. “I am here to aid your cause.”
Noor hesitated, her sharp eyes studying Athena with open distrust. Finally, she let out a low sigh. “I don’t know what Ardvi sees in you Olympians,” she said, her tone begrudging. “But if it is her will, I will follow it.”
Athena smiled, a genuine warmth in her expression. “Wise words,” she said.
Noor didn’t respond, but her silence spoke volumes.
“What Noor says is true,” Athena continued, her tone growing somber. “The curse afflicting the Oracle is the work of the Erebosian here—the one responsible for all of this.”
Her voice dropped, filled with disdain as she uttered the name. “Arkealus.”
The name itself seemed to darken the room, the air growing heavy and oppressive. I could feel the weight of it, as though the very sound of the name carried a tangible malice.

“How do we kill it?” I asked, my voice stoic, each word sharp as a blade cutting through the tension in the air.
Athena’s gaze hardened, her tone firm yet measured. “Careful, Kayn. Overconfidence often leads to a harder fall,” she warned, her eyes scanning the group as if weighing our readiness. “But yes, for Lissandra to be cured of her curse, we must defeat him.”
“Not exactly,” Noor interjected, her tone calm yet commanding, the weight of her knowledge about dark magic evident. “The curse could be broken another way.”
“What do you mean, Noor?” Iris asked, her brows furrowed, curiosity and urgency mingling in her voice.
Noor stepped forward, her fingers brushing against the hilt of her dagger as if grounding herself. “Curses, especially ones as powerful and sustained as this, require a source to keep them alive,” she explained. “Some use horcruxes or relics to bind the spell; others rely on living conduits. In this case, I believe the source of the curse is his staff.”
The revelation made my mind race. “Wait… you said staff?” I asked, my voice tinged with realization.
Iris looked at me, puzzled. “Hmm, yes. A warlock typically uses a staff or an artifact to amplify their magic. Why? What are you thinking, Kayn?”
Athena’s sharp gaze locked onto me, her expression curious yet knowing. “Something to share with us, Kayn?” she asked, clearly noticing the shift in my demeanor.
“The Pythia mentioned something about a staff earlier,” I said, my voice rising slightly as the pieces began to fall into place. “What if she was trying to tell us that? If we destroy the staff, it might break the curse and give us an advantage against Arkealus.”
Athena’s eyes gleamed with pride, a faint smile curling her lips. “A wise deduction,” she said. “You’re learning to use your mind as well as your strength. That will serve you well.”
“Solid plan,” Entinos interjected, his deep voice steady. “But this Erebosian is powerful. Can we truly take him down?”
Athena’s expression turned thoughtful, her hand resting on her chin. “In your current state? It will be difficult. Killing him outright may be beyond your reach, but destroying his staff is possible.”
“Then that’s our best shot,” I said, stepping forward, my voice carrying a leader’s resolve. “We can’t wait for him to recover. This might be our only chance.”
“So, we’re doing this?” Ikaro asked, his eyes darting around the group.
“I’m in. I want to see what these Erebosians are truly capable of,” Noor said, her lips curling into a sly smile. Entinos gave a firm nod, his agreement silent but clear.
“We must save the Oracle. Kayn is right; we won’t get a better shot than this,” Iris added, her voice steady despite the weight of the decision. Her determination shone through, even in the face of an enemy far greater than her.
“That’s the spirit, sis!” Ikaro said, grinning as he clapped a reassuring hand on Iris’s shoulder.
I turned to Athena, a faint smirk playing on my lips. “Looks like your chosen ones have made up their minds.”
She chuckled softly, her gaze warm yet serious. “I trust you all. You have proven yourselves worthy of the gods’ blessings, but know this: this fight will be your toughest yet. Trust in each other and your instincts—it is the only way to overcome the darkness.”
With a graceful motion, she raised her hands, the air shimmering as she cast a spell. A glowing portal materialized before us, its edges crackling with divine energy. “This will take you to the entrance of the mountain,” she explained. “From there, you must venture deep within to find the Erebosian’s hideout and face him.”
The group began moving toward the portal, but Athena stopped me with a gentle touch on my arm. Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “Kayn… please be careful. They need you ready, and I… I need you to stay alive.” Her tone softened, revealing a vulnerability that seemed to transcend her godly duties. This wasn’t Athena, the goddess, speaking—this was Athena, the person.
I met her gaze, my resolve unwavering. “I know,” I said, my voice steady. A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth as I added, “After this, I think a toast will be in order. Maybe the great Athena could join me?”
She chuckled, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Careful, Kayn. Don’t make a girl a promise you can’t keep.”
I leaned in slightly, my tone turning playful. “Oh, I intend to keep it.”
Her smile deepened, and for a moment, the weight of the impending battle seemed to lift. She reached out, her fingers brushing softly against my cheek, a gesture filled with compassion and something deeper. “Take care, Kayn. Show the darkness why you are special.”
As her projection faded, I took a deep breath, the weight of her words settling over me. With determination burning in my chest, I stepped into the portal, ready to face the darkness that awaited us.