Yes, but we must fight for it.

Chapter 7: Blood and Fire
The farm burned in chaos. Flames licked at the sky, consuming crops and livestock alike. Ash choked the air, and the acrid scent of destruction seeped into every corner. The Adreadis family stood at the center of it, their home reduced to a battlefield.
Ikaro and Iris fought to push their grief aside, standing steadfast beside their father, Arbos, who held his shield and sword high. The Spartan's battle-worn face was grim, his stance unyielding. Before them stood the assassin, his form cloaked in darkness and surrounded by snarling hounds with hellfire glowing in their eyes.
Arbos's voice cut through the crackling fire. “I don’t know who you are, but you messed with the wrong family.”
The assassin chuckled, his voice like the scrape of a blade. “I’m not here for you, old man. I’m hunting a bigger prey.”

“Tough luck” Arbos says getting into his phalanx stance. “You attacked my home now you are facing me.”

The assassin tilted his head, mocking amusement in his tone. “Fine. Consider this my warm-up.” With a flick of his wrist, the hounds surged forward.

“Iris, Ikaro get ready!” Arbos commanded his tactician and captaincy experience shining through.

“Here they come get ready!” Ikaro screamed as the three of them dodged the hounds charge and managed to land some hits on them, as the hounds pass through them and prepare to attack them one by one.

“Children, Trust in each other and take down those hounds.” Arbos commanded as he starting walking forwards to the assassin surrounded by ashes and fire “He’s mine.”

As Arbos charged the Assassin, Ikaro and Iris worked together back to back to take down the hounds.

Ikaro adjusted his grip on his spear and shield, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. “Okay, sis, we got this. I’ll take the front line. Can you cover me?”
Iris nodded, her jaw set in determination. “I want to take down some of these bastards. They don’t get to walk free after what they did.” Her words dripped with venom.
“Hell yeah.” Ikaro flashed a grin, his confidence unwavering as the hounds regrouped. Their snarls echoed through the burning farm, led by a massive, hellish hound that seemed to command the others. “Get ready. On my mark.” He braced himself, feet planted firmly in the dirt. “One,” he said as the hounds began their charge, their glowing eyes fixed on their prey.
Iris raised her bow, her hands steady despite the chaos. “Two,” she murmured, exhaling as she drew the string taut, her arrow aimed at the nearest hound.
“Three!” Ikaro bellowed, lunging forward with his shield. He struck the lead hound with an upward bash, sending it staggering back. Simultaneously, Iris loosed her arrow. It flew true, piercing through one hound and embedding in another. Several beasts collapsed in a spray of ash and blood, but more surged forward, relentless.
The siblings fought with precision born from years of training and trust. Ikaro’s spear struck like a viper, each thrust aimed to disable or kill, while Iris picked off targets from behind, her arrows a deadly rain.
As the battle raged, Arbos faced the assassin in a deadly dance of blades. Each strike and counterstrike sent sparks flying, their weapons clashing with a **** that rippled through the fiery air. The assassin’s taunts cut through the noise. “Are you afraid, old man?” he sneered, his voice mocking. “You’re brittle, withering. I doubt you’ll last long.”
Arbos silenced him with a shield bash that sent the assassin stumbling back. “Talk too much,” he said curtly, though he felt the weight of his years with every move. He knew his strength was fading, but he fought on with the resolve of a Spartan warrior.
Meanwhile, I pushed myself harder, sprinting through the forest toward the farm. The heat grew more intense with each step, the acrid scent of smoke burning my lungs. Thoughts swirled in my mind—fears of arriving too late, of failing them. But I couldn’t let doubt slow me down. I had to reach them in time. They could hold their own, I told myself, but if an Erebosian leader was there, they wouldn’t stand a chance alone. I needed to be there.
Back at the farm, the siblings were beginning to tire. Bruises and shallow cuts marked their skin, the toll of relentless combat against the hounds.
“Where is Kayn?!” Iris yelled, loosing another arrow. “Dammit, I’m running low!”
“I don’t know!” Ikaro grunted, impaling a hound with his spear. The beast let out a hellish screech before collapsing. “I haven’t seen him since we got back from Helos!”
“Shit!” Iris cursed as she fired her last arrow, watching it bury itself in a hound’s throat. She dropped her bow and drew her hunting knives, positioning herself back-to-back with Ikaro. “So, how screwed are we?”
Ikaro glanced at the remaining hounds circling them, including the massive leader. “On a scale of one to ten?” He smirked despite their dire situation. “Solid five.”
Iris chuckled darkly. “I like those odds. I’ll take the two on the left.”
“Then I’ll handle the big one,” Ikaro replied, eyeing the monstrous hound with grim determination.
Iris quirked an eyebrow. “You sure? It might be too big for your… small spear.” Her tone was teasing, but her eyes were sharp.
Ikaro snorted. “I’ll manage. At least I don’t waste arrows.”
“Asshole,” Iris muttered with a grin.
“Bitch,” Ikaro shot back, both siblings sharing a brief laugh before refocusing on the fight.
The hounds charged. Ikaro and Iris moved as one, their coordination seamless. Ikaro’s spear struck the massive hound’s side, forcing it back, while Iris ducked under a smaller beast’s leap, her knives flashing as she slit its throat. They fought with everything they had, exhaustion and pain pushed aside by sheer will.
“We’re not going down without a fight,” Iris growled.
“Agreed.” Ikaro grinned, blood streaking his face. “Whoever kills fewer hounds pays for the drinks.”
“Deal,” Iris said, her knives poised for the next attack. Together, they charged into the fray once more, their bond unshakable despite the chaos surrounding them.

As the siblings fought fiercely against the hounds, Arbos felt his age catching up to him. His strikes slowed, his breath grew heavier, and his shield arm trembled. The assassin, sensing the old warrior’s faltering strength, grinned darkly. A precise strike landed, sending Arbos stumbling back.
“It’s over, old man. Your gods won’t save you,” the assassin sneered, licking his lips as he prepared for the killing blow.
Arbos raised his shield, battered but unyielding, and barked out a retort. “You never shut up, do you? All this yapping about your gods making you stronger, yet you can’t even best an old man.”
The words struck a nerve. Snarling with rage, the assassin attacked with renewed ferocity. Each blow struck like thunder, forcing Arbos back step by step. A final, devastating strike shattered the Spartan's shield, and the **** hurled Arbos to the ground. Defeated but defiant, he lay sprawled in the dirt.
“FATHER!” Ikaro’s voice rang out as he rushed to his father’s side. Planting himself between Arbos and the assassin, he raised his shield. “I won’t let you touch him, you bastard!”
The assassin’s cruel smile widened. “The lamb comes willingly to the slaughter.” He lunged at Ikaro, his strikes relentless and savage. Ikaro parried and blocked as best he could, his shield absorbing the brunt of the attacks. Finally, with a surge of determination, Ikaro managed to land a solid thrust of his spear into the assassin’s abdomen. Blood seeped from the wound.
“You talk too much about strength,” Ikaro said, panting, “but you bleed like the rest of us.”
The assassin roared in fury. “DAMN YOU!” He launched a punishing ****, his blade crashing into Ikaro’s shield again and again. With a splintering crack, the shield gave way, leaving Ikaro defenseless. The assassin seized Ikaro’s spear, raising it high, ready to impale the young warrior.
Time seemed to freeze as the spear hurtled downward. At the last moment, Arbos threw himself in its path, the blade piercing his body. Blood spurted from the mortal wound as he collapsed.
“NO!” Both siblings screamed in unison, their voices filled with anguish.
Arbos, his strength fading, turned his eyes to Ikaro. For a moment, no words passed between them, only a father’s love and a son’s despair. Then, with a cruel shove, the assassin discarded Arbos to the side like a broken doll.
“A minor inconvenience,” the assassin said coldly. “**** will claim you all soon enough.”
As the assassin stepped forward to finish Ikaro, I arrived at last, my boots pounding against the ash-streaked ground. I threw myself in front of Ikaro, intercepting the assassin’s blade with mine. Sparks flew as steel clashed against steel.
“The prey finally dares to face the predator,” the assassin sneered, his eyes narrowing.
I pushed him back, holding my ground. “You’re not even a true Erebosian. I can sense it. You’re just a lackey.”
He chuckled darkly. “Indeed. But I’ve been sent here to kill you, and once I succeed, I’ll ascend to a power beyond your comprehension.”
My gaze shifted briefly to Arbos’ crumpled form. Fury ignited within me, hot and all-consuming. I gripped Dawn tightly as its blade began to shimmer with the golden fire of Helios. “Tough luck. You’re not leaving here alive. Dawn and I will make sure of it.”
With those words, I charged. Our blades met in a storm of sparks, each strike ringing out like a clash of thunder. His attacks were swift, but mine were sharper. Dawn guided me, awakening instincts I hadn’t fully realized. With a perfectly timed parry, I countered, my blade carving a deep gash across his chest. Blood poured from the wound.
“Impossible!” he howled. “You shouldn’t have that sword! You shouldn’t be this strong!”
I smirked, stepping forward. “Scared? You should be.”
The assassin, now ****, whistled sharply. The remaining hounds abandoned Iris and bounded to his side. I called out to her, “Iris, go to your father. I’ll handle this.”
She hesitated for only a moment before nodding. Her eyes locked with mine, filled with a mix of worry and trust, and she ran toward Arbos.
I turned back to the assassin, advancing with deliberate steps. The hounds charged, but they were nothing more than distractions. With swift, precise slashes, I cut them down one by one. The assassin's confidence crumbled as fear took its place.
“It’s—it’s impossible!” he stammered, backing away.
I surged forward, dodging his **** attacks with ease. In one fluid motion, I plunged Dawn into his chest. He gasped, the light in his eyes dimming.
“There will be no place in Hades for you,” I said coldly, pulling the blade free. “You won’t see the afterlife.”
With one final swing, I severed his head from his shoulders. The assassin’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless. The battle was over. But as I stood amidst the blood and ash, my heart clenched, knowing the price we’d paid.

A few moments passed as I caught my breath, the adrenaline fading but the ache in my chest intensifying. I turned toward Arbos’ bleeding body, sprawled on the ground. His children knelt beside him, desperately trying to comfort him as the light in his eyes dimmed.
“Kayn, help us... please,” Iris begged, her voice cracking under the weight of her tears. Her trembling hands pressed against his wound, but the blood wouldn’t stop. Deep down, she knew it was futile.
“My sweet Iris,” Arbos said, his voice soft and strained. His hand, rough and calloused, reached up to caress her tear-streaked cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”
Iris sobbed harder, clutching his hand like it was her lifeline. “Don’t leave us,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“This is all my fault,” Ikaro muttered, his head bowed, his tears falling freely onto the scorched ground. “I should’ve protected you, Father. I failed.”
“Don’t,” Arbos said, his voice firm despite the weakness overtaking him. He turned to his son, locking eyes with him. “You fought like a true warrior. I was wrong to doubt you. You’re more than ready.”
He motioned for Ikaro to come closer. As Ikaro leaned in, Arbos whispered something into his ear. Whatever he said left Ikaro stunned. The shock in his eyes quickly gave way to a look of steely determination, his father’s final words etching themselves into his soul.
“Kayn,” Arbos said, his gaze now shifting to me. His eyes held both trust and a heavy burden as he addressed me. “It was destiny that brought you here. You must stop them. I know you can.” He coughed, the sound rattling deep in his chest. “You’re stronger than you think. Keep them safe for me, will you?”
A single tear escaped my eye as I knelt beside him, taking his bloody hand in mine. “I will,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “I promise.”
Arbos smiled faintly, his strength waning. He turned back to his children, his gaze softening with love. “Don’t cry for me. I’m at peace, knowing what’s waiting for me on the other side.” His lips curved upward, almost as if he could already see it. “I will join your mother, and when your time comes, we’ll be waiting for you both. Together again.”
His eyes lifted to the smoke-filled sky, and his lips moved one last time. “Kathos peftoun ta fylla, ginomai éna me ti gi.” (As the leaves fall, I become one with the earth.)
With those final words, Arbos exhaled his last breath, his body going still.
A silence fell over us, heavy and suffocating. The man who had been our strength, our protector, was gone. Iris collapsed onto her father’s chest, her cries raw and unrelenting. Ikaro bowed his head, his shoulders trembling, but then squared them with determination. He stood and carefully lifted his father’s body into his arms. Blood smeared his tunic, but he didn’t falter.
The farm that had once been a sanctuary was now engulfed in flames, the glow of the fire casting long shadows over what we had lost. Ash rained down like snow, coating the ground and our faces in gray.
Iris, still sobbing, walked beside Ikaro as he carried Arbos. Together, we left the place that had once been their home. Step by step, we moved toward safety, toward a place where we could bury the man who had given everything to protect those he loved.
The weight of this loss was unbearable, but as I looked at Ikaro’s determined stride and Iris’ quiet resolve, I knew one thing for certain: this wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning of our fight. And we would make sure Arbos’ sacrifice wasn’t in vain.