Kairos 92: Nightfall (End of Book II)

The New Gods rarely visited mortal cities nowadays.

A New God and an Old One making an appearance at the same time was unheard of, and yet here they were on Histria’s shore facing the heroes of the day.

Only a few hours after Helios’ public defeat and Kairos’ ascension to [Demigod], Orgonos teleported into the city with a crowd in tow. The Travian King’s party was among them, with Cassandra and Agron freed from Circe’s animal curse and returned to their original forms, but the New God of magic had also given a lift to the other adventurers on the second floor.

However, another giant had shown up with Orgonos. A lady wreathed in shadows, her lustrous black hair covered in a widow’s veil. Her face was mostly hidden in darkness, though Kairos could see hints of lustrous white skin and pale red eyes underneath her hood. The cold of winter followed in her wake alongside the whispers of the dead.

Queen Persephone had made her first appearance outside the Underworld in centuries.

Though he had gained the power of a [Demigod], Kairos felt uneasy in the deities’ presence. His wife had provided him with a kingly red tunic to replace his melted armor, one that went along well with his magical items. “You look every bit like Heracles, my husband,” Julia had reassured him with a coy smile. “And I find it quite arousing.”

Having seen the actual Heracles in the flesh, Kairos couldn’t compare himself to the legendary warrior… but he had to admit he had changed. He felt stronger, more confident. A sun burnt inside his heart, filling him with strength.

If this was how being a [Demigod] felt, he shuddered to imagine how godhood would be.

“You have my most sincere thanks,” Persephone declared, her voice radiating the stern authority of a queen of the dead. She and Orgonos stood side by side on the shore, facing Kairos’ party, his crew, Julia, and all of Histria’s representatives. “With the Gate of Tartarus sealed and Thanatos defeated, the flow of souls will return to normal. The worlds of the dead and the living shall remain separate.”

Kairos and his allies could only answer with a short bow; though none of them did so as deeply as Cassandra.

Thankfully, Aglaonice had partly foreseen an attack on Histria and helped Julia coordinate the city’s response when Helios attempted to incinerate it. Only a few hundred people had perished in the attack and damage had been minimal.

Even a treacherous cat can have its uses, Kairos thought as he glanced at the sphinx. Aglaonice had come with a golden box filled to the brim with scrolls whose origin escaped the Travian King. She looked satisfied with the outcome, like everyone else.

It had cost many lives, but the future had changed. The first Calamity had been averted, and Helios’ sun wouldn’t rise again.

The bones of the fallen deity—what remained of them anyway—had been laid to rest in a coffin on the sand right in front of the Foresight and the Travian-Lycean fleet anchored in the port. Kairos had plans for them, but they would wait until after the gods’ departures.

Persephone’s eyes wandered to Andromache’s stomach. “Though I wished my half-brother would be among you, I see that his spirit still endures.”

“We shall build a statue for him in our temple,” Kairos said. Nausicaa and Chloris, who had both somewhat grown fond of the satyr, had offered to sculpt it from pearl and seastone. “His sacrifice shall not be forgotten.”

Persephone only answered with a short nod, her eyes turning to Cassandra next. Kairos’ former second-in-command fidgeted, slightly embarrassed by the goddess’ attention. “Your Majesty?” Cass asked as she dared to meet the dark queen’s eyes.

“Long before evil desecrated it, the Necromanteion was a place where the living could consult the dead for their wisdom,” Persephone explained. “With Thanatos’ influence gone, it may serve its original purpose once more. You have served dutifully Cassandra, both as my priestess and as a champion of the dead; thus I offer you dominion over the Necromanteion… and membership into my [Pantheon].”

Cassandra’s eyes bulged, while whispers spread among the assembly. “You would make me a [Psychopompós]?”

“If you so desire.” Persephone glanced at Kairos, the weight of her ancient gaze difficult to bear. “Will it be alright, Sunslayer King?”

The simple fact that she asked for permission spoke volumes. She is talking to me, not as a mortal, but an equal, Kairos realized. A new god in the making.

“I see no problem with it,” he replied. Cassandra couldn’t join the [Térastheon] due to lacking monstrous attributes anyway, and he trusted her completely. Her efforts deserved recognition. “She has my support and my blessing.”

“Thank you, Kairos,” Cassandra said with a pleased smile. For one who thought herself undeserving of glory only a few months ago, receiving such an important charge was an honor beyond words. “Your Majesty, Lady Persephone, I swear I shall not disappoint you.”

“You never have,” the Queen of the Dead replied. Though her voice remained cold, Kairos thought he detected a furtive glint of fondness in her eyes. “Though you did scare Cerberus.”

“As we should,” Rook complained, the golden griffin slouching on the sand like a confident lion. “He attacked us first!”

“Did he recover?” Kairos couldn’t help but ask. He was quite fond of dogs and never wished Cerberus harm.

“He is safe, but feels guilty about letting people through the gates,” Persephone said before looking at the sun high above the sea. “Until my husband finds peace, he will never stop blaming himself.”

“Do you still hate us?” Orgonos asked Persephone. After having remained silent for a moment to observe the discussion, the cyclops had finally decided to take the lead. “Although I did not wage war on you, I participated in the uprising that cost your husband and son their lives.”

“We will never be allies, cyclops,” Persephone replied bluntly. “But you were entitled to your revenge against Apollo, as I am to mine. It is Lycaon that I despise and whose death I await.”

“A time that might come soon,” Sertorius whispered at Kairos’ side. “Will you help us against him?”

Even in the presence of gods, the Judge never turned down an occasion to make allies.

Orgonos nodded slowly. “If your theory is correct, then the wolf-god’s liberation cannot be avoided. As I warned you, I cannot recreate the seal without undoing it first. In both cases, Lycaon will have an opportunity to escape.”

“But when that day comes, I will lend you my strength,” Persephone said with the cold voice of winter.

“As will I,” Orgonos declared. “But that moment may be years away, and other enemies will target you sooner.”

He didn’t offer help against Mithridates, nor did Persephone. The gods of the Sunsea took no part in petty squabbles, for good or ill.

Kairos was at peace with it. That was what he had fought Helios for; a future where mortals could decide their destiny without the gods choosing for them.

“This is goodbye, at least for now,” Persephone declared as shadows swirled around her. “We shall meet again… whether in life or death.”

“Before you go,” Kairos dared to ask, “I have a request.”

“You want me to revive friends and family that you have lost.” Persephone let out a sigh while Cassandra cleared her throat. “Exceptions can often be made, but if they become the rule then order collapses. I may have more freedom than Thanatos, but it does not excuse me from my duties. Even if I wanted to help, my powers are not limitless. If I could not free my own son’s soul from Lycaon’s jaws, how can I hope to release your brother’s?”

Kairos winced, but couldn’t find a fault in her argument. Maybe Helios had lied about being able to free his brother’s soul or his powers were unique to him. The opportunity had passed. I shouldn’t think that, Kairos decided. I made that choice knowing the results.

Queen Persephone looked at him with sympathy. “Our loved ones will find rest, Kairos of Travia. I have sworn so, and one day Fate shall smile on us.”

She disappeared on these words, returning to her domain in a cloud of darkness.

Orgonos remained behind for a moment, his single eye examining the people assembled before him. Though their ancestors had claimed power by striking down gods, nobody dared to make an attempt on the cyclops’ life; partly out of respect, and mostly out of fear.

“Do you enjoy the power, Kairos?” Orgonos asked, his expression unreadable.

The Travian King didn’t deny it. “It’s exhilarating.”

“Contrary to what mortals believe, power doesn’t corrupt. It only magnifies what lurks inside the heart. Greed, love, ambition… sometimes to the point of self-destruction. Always remain humble, Kairos, lest your own pride bring you down.”

“I have witnessed the price of arrogance, Lord Orgonos,” Kairos replied while Helios’ bones shone under the sunlight. “I have learned from my mistakes and that of others.”

“I shall pray that you stay true to your words.” Orgonos offered a final, respectful nod. “You do not have my support in your incoming war… but you have my blessing. I bid you good luck in your struggles to come.”

The god of magic whispered a few words of power and teleported away.

The crowd remained silent a moment, before Kairos turned to face his friends and soldiers. He felt the weight of hundreds of eyes looking at him with hope and anxiety. The Travian King knew his words would carry more weight than ever. Hundreds of thousands had seen him duel a former god for the sake of his kingdom, and this brought him worship and admiration. If anyone still had doubts about his leadership, they had been thoroughly squashed.

“Today is a new dawn,” Kairos declared, Julia and Andromache each on one side of him. “Not only for Travia, but Lyce and all nations of the Sunsea.”

Sertorius offered a short nod, his arms crossed and his eyes calculating. No doubt he already considered how to exploit his brother-in-law’s new status for political gain. Once news of Kairos’ ascension to [Demigod] reached Travia, the country would certainly fully mobilize behind him.

But so long as Teuta lived, his rule would never be fully secured.

“The last embers of the Old Gods’ rule have been extinguished, their final champion slain by my hand,” Kairos continued. “But although we are now free of the past, the future remains ours to fight for. The new spring heralds a bloody war that will determine the fate of the world for centuries to come. New would-be deities rise everywhere, hungry for power and control. Some will be our allies, others our foes. The fights ahead of us will be difficult, and I cannot promise that we shall all live to see the peace I know will follow.”

He glanced at his weapon as it glittered in the sunlight. The silver had turned to gold, reflecting Travia’s growing brilliance.

Dawnspear

Rank: Artifact 4 (formerly Artifact 5)

Value: Priceless

A spear originally crafted by the Anemoi, the old gods of the four winds, as a symbol of rulership. After its power declined following the Anthropomachia, Kairos the Sunslayer anointed it again with the blood of Helios. Only Kairos the Sunslayer or his killer may use this spear’s abilities.

1 Star Power: The Anemoi Spear is the source of Four Winds, and naturally boosts the user’s [Wind] spells.

2 Stars Power: The spear can unleash sustained gusts, whose power depends on the user’s will; from a breeze to a blast.

3 Stars Power: The spear’s user can manipulate the four winds around his person, using the spear as he would a conductor’s baton. This can be used to start miniature tornados, shred trees, or redirect winds.

4 Stars Power: The Dawnspear can conjure abnormal weather over an area of three-hundred kilometers around it. The available effects are [Flaming Hail] (only during a summer day), [Heat Wave] (unavailable in winter), [Blizzard] (Only in winter), [Hurricane], [Rain], [Thunderstorm], or [Hail]. The weather conditions last for seven hours. Additionally, Kairos the Sunslayer may teleport it to his hand at will.

“But so long as we stand as one, our victory is assured,” Kairos declared as he glanced at the Foresight. “As I claimed the spear of the four winds as my own, so shall the embers of the fallen order fuel our army’s might!”

The Foresight opened its fanged maw and devoured Helios’ remains.

As the bones of the old sun were consumed by his slayer’s ship, the vessel shared in its power. A set of four translucent golden wings, similar to a dragonfly, formed above the fin-oars and blew sand as they flapped. Summoning the winds to protect his allies from the cloud, Kairos watched as the shadow of the Foresight loomed over him and its monstrous maw let out a spray of flames. Rook let out a squeal of happiness as he took flight, joining the ship in the heavens above.

At long last, the Foresight had learned to fly.

“This is the ship that will lead us to victory!” Kairos declared while raising his spear. “The first of a great fleet that shall bring Mithridates and all our enemies to their knees! Who shall sail with me?! Who shall dare to rule the Sunsea?!”

His allies and armies answered with a loud shout, their hearts galvanized by his words.

“But now is not the time to fear for the future, or think of the wars to come,” Kairos declared as he hit the sand with his weapon. “Though my friend Nessus gave his life for this victory, I know what he would have said. That winter is a time for rest, but also celebrations. And you, my friends and soldiers, deserve both.”

Kairos smiled before unleashing a blast of wind into the air, clearing the clouds above the Foresight. “Who is up for a banquet?!”

The crowd answered his question with a joyful chorus, and even cold Sertorius cracked a smile.

--------------------

Only a few months ago, Kairos had held a banquet to celebrate a successful hunt. The Nemean Lion had long been eaten, his fur cut to make armor, but somehow the new festivities were even more extravagant.

The wealth gathered by the Foresight on its trip around the world was put to good use, and Sertorius added funds from his own pocket. All of Histria could celebrate on Lycean wine, Travian music, and dishes from all around the world. Once more, Kairos’ crew, close allies, and officers enjoyed a private reception inside his fortress’ walls, warmed up by conjured flames.

History had repeated itself, but with key differences. There were new faces among the guests, and a few missing.

He would have loved it, Kairos thought as he heard Agron play one of Nessus’ favorite songs. Thales had joined the minotaur’s orchestra with a new type of drum, while Nausicaa played with an oud. Though mute and out of the water, the mermaid had turned out to be a surprisingly good musician. Cassandra had even agreed to sing out of respect for her fallen friend while Caenis danced for the audience’s pleasure and amusement. Rook was trying to imitate the latter’s movements on the dance floor, but his attempts were more comical than anything. I hope he can hear it.

He should. For once, Andromache had agreed to join the festivities… and to everyone’s shock, Julia had given her a place of honor.

“I am surprised you let me sit here, wolfling,” Andromache admitted. “I thought you believed a kingdom couldn’t have two queens.”

As usual, Kairos occupied a dais overseeing the festivities… but this time, his wife sat at his right and his concubine at his left. The Travian King himself thought he had misheard when Julia proposed the arrangement.

“I still believe it,” Julia replied calmly. Due to her late stage of pregnancy, she had been forced to trade away wine for water. “Considering all you went through in this dungeon, Andromache, I believe you deserve some recognition for your efforts. I daresay, I am glad you and your daughter survived the trip.”

Andromache answered her words with a puzzled look of genuine surprise. “Why such a face?” Julia asked with an amused smile. “Despite our differences, I never wished for your death or that of your child.”

“I did,” Andromache admitted bluntly, to Kairos’ silent disapproval. To her credit, his concubine appeared a little ashamed. “Once, at least. Back when you enjoyed everything I was denied.”

Julia let out a shrug, taking Andromache’s honesty in stride. “Did your anger cool down since?”

“It did, but I still wonder what you have in mind. This is unlike you, wolf—” Andromache stopped herself before clearing her throat. “Julia.”

Kairos couldn’t help but chuckle. “Was it so hard to say?” he teased Andromache.

“It was,” the nymph replied with a devious smirk, hands on her chest. “I still feel jealous about sharing you, but I am more confident about our relationship… and where it will lead us.”

Julia played with her glass of water with one hand, and kept the other on her womb. “Our children’s future is why I want to have this conversation,” she admitted.

“Because Nessia will have a [Legend]?” Kairos asked with a frown.

“Neither she nor I will want your throne,” Andromache told Julia with a snort. “You have nothing to fear.”

“It’s not about me, but them.” Julia sighed. “I know we will never be friends, Andromache. But though my brother and I didn’t share a mother, we still became a close family. I hope our children will grow close too… for they may not survive otherwise. Our foes’ ranks will only grow, and they will each need people they can count on through thick and thin.”

Andromache didn’t answer, her expression turning thoughtful. It seemed Julia’s words had struck a nerve in the nymph, who had long struggled to make friends and allies. “You fear someone will try to turn our children against each other,” she guessed. “And through them, us.”

“I will suffer no infighting,” Kairos said firmly.

“Not even the gods live forever, Kairos, they only live longer than most,” Julia replied wisely. “My brother showed me the [Necklace of Harmonia]. A beautiful piece of jewelry.”

“Did you love it?” Kairos asked.

“I do, though I will delay wearing it until we break its curse,” Julia replied with a smile while glancing at Andromache’s own tooth necklace. “We shall have both received a necklace from your own hands.”

“Mine was made by his hands,” Andromache replied with pride and a hint of competitiveness. Her hand moved to Kairos’ arm, openly challenging Julia. The werewolf chuckled in amusement, before putting her glass aside and imitating her rival.

Many would have enjoyed having a woman on each arm, but Kairos found the situation incredibly uncomfortable. “I will not be a battlefield,” he said in annoyance, “Julia, what are you getting at?”

“Between your [Golden Fleece], the [Necklace of Harmonia], and your eternal youth, our generation may very well live for centuries,” Julia explained with a serious tone, “but our foes will not wait that long. Now that your unborn daughter will gain a [Legend], fools and ambitious ‘friends’ will try to make use of her. Many men tried to turn me against my brother too, telling me I should inherit his wealth and birthright. And I suppose idiots will whisper in my children’s ears, trying to convince them that Nessia is a threat to their throne.”

Kairos considered her words thoughtfully while a frown appeared on Andromache’s face. The nymph had admitted she had wished for Julia’s death, but the Travian King wondered if she had simply expected Julia to eventually perish of old age while the two of them remained forever young. The possibility of breaking the curse of Harmonia’s necklace would make this hope moot.

And the more he dwelled on Julia’s words, the more Kairos realized that she had a point. There was a real possibility that enemies would try to set his children against each others; power struggles were a fact of human life, and even siblings sharing the same parents had murdered each other over inheritance. The tales of Rome’s foundation were but one example among many.

It’s worse than that, Kairos realized with grim horror. Nessia has a [Legend].

Though he tried not to, he couldn’t help but remember his vision of Hades’ death in the Necromanteion. How Lycaon’s sons had devoured young Zagreus to steal his power for themselves.

His daughter would never be fully safe until she grew old enough to defend herself. Ambitious social climbers and monsters would try to take her power for themselves; and familial conflicts would only make it worse.

“Julia,” Kairos said. “When you become a [Hero], you should join the [Térastheon]. Its rules prevent infighting and they will help keep peace inside this family.”

He hoped that the full support of a [Pantheon] would help deter attacks too. Some fools would try anyway, but many would think twice about crossing the likes of Hybris and Gaïa.

Julia nodded. “I considered the same thing, husband. For once, my curse might prove beneficial.”

A flash of sympathy passed on Andromache’s face, her eyes examining Julia from head to toe. For perhaps the first time since they met, she saw a little of herself in her rival.

The old Andromache, who suffered from rage and a heartbreaking curse, would have reacted with anger. Maybe she would have even plotted to sabotage her rival to ensure her daughter’s safety.

But the new Andromache, who had made peace with herself and could look forward to a brighter future, kept a cool head and considered Julia’s words. Eventually, she came to see the wisdom in them.

“It will do us or our children no good if we are at each other’s throat, true,” Andromache conceded as she released Kairos’ arm. “And they will be safer by supporting each other. I would prefer another state of affairs… but I will try to make peace with this one.”

“So will I,” Julia replied with a small smile as she let Kairos go, allowing him to breathe easy once more. “I wonder if we could get our children into the [Pantheon] eventually.”

“So long as I live, nothing will happen to them,” Kairos swore. He would not let any of his children lose a sibling like he did. “We need people we can trust to care for them.”

“Agreed,” Julia said with a nod. “Your seed is strong, my husband, but I doubt your sons and daughters can strangle snakes in the crib like Heracles. Perhaps mindless automatons would work well? They wouldn’t be tempted by the lure of a [Legend] or glory.”

“I can raise undead,” Andromache suggested.

“They might frighten the children,” Julia pointed out.

“But they will scare assassins better than machines,” the nymph replied.

Julia chuckled. “I concede your point.”

Nothing could bring people together better than ensuring their descendants’ safety. “At this rate, we will recreate the Olympians,” Kairos mused. “This is what your brother wants, Julia, and he may even succeed.”

Neither a heavy drinker nor interested in the food, Sertorius had declined to join his sister and brother-in-law on the Dais. Instead, he had used the opportunity to speak with Myrmidon dignitaries and representatives of the Lycean diaspora in Histria. This man never relaxes, Kairos thought. He’s always recruiting allies and followers.

“May?” Julia scoffed. “My brother always gets what he wants, but you are mistaken. With the new Age of Myths upon us, he understands one [Pantheon] ruling over everything is no longer possible… much like it is impossible for one family to rule the Senex.”

“And yet he and Dispater now lead Lyce,” Kairos said as he put the two and two together. “Ah, I see. He’s applying this logic on an international level.”

“It is not about being the only family of gods, Kairos,” Julia said with a wicked smirk. “But about being the first among equals. Even in our [Pantheon], we will have to share power with the likes of Hybris. Our rule will never be truly absolute, and that’s for the better. We have seen where unchecked authority led the Olympians.”

Kairos couldn’t help but agree. Being all from the same family had encouraged an ‘us versus everyone’ mentality in the Old Gods. Having a diversity of points of views and origins would go a great way to check a [Pantheon]’s excesses. Maybe that was what Gaïa envisioned when she intended to bring all monstrous gods into a single organization. Strength through difference.

“I have no desire to rule,” Andromache said. “But I do find the idea of having a clan I can rely on for help appealing. You were right, my other half. So long as we stand as one, our victory is assured.”

Kairos knew she and Julia would never get along, but he had the feeling tonight would be a step forward in making their relationship cordial. Whatever the case, they wouldn’t let their descendants carry grudges.

“There is a potential snake in our midst already,” Kairos said as he glanced at Aglaonice. The sphinx played a board game against three men while reading a scroll at the same time. “I have the feeling she played us somehow.”

“I figured it out,” Julia said. “She served Circe in exchange for all of her accumulated research, but she figured that she might not deliver on her end of the deal. So when word of the Necromanteion’s existence reached Orgonos’ ears…”

“She helped him figure out a way past the wards in exchange for his knowledge?” Kairos guessed, his jaws clenching. “She was plotting this outcome from the start.”

“Her treachery knows no bounds,” Andromache sneered.

“Which is why we should add her to the [Térastheon] too,” Julia replied with a chuckle. “Though I do believe I have her under control for now. We will need her power in the conflict to come.”

“Speaking of conflict,” Andromache said as she turned to Kairos. “What will you do now? You can make more Foresights by sinking ships, and we have a fleet outside.”

“I would be wary of it,” Julia warned Kairos. “While unlikely, your death or ship’s destruction would destroy the fleet. It would be safer to create a special squadron rather than replace our entire fleet. Besides, we don’t know if seeking any ship will do or if you must do it in battle.”

“I intended to use winter to figure out how my Legendary Skills work and upgrade the others,” Kairos explained before opening a status screen. “Look.”

As your key stat, you may sacrifice 35 SP to raise your [Charisma] from A to A+.

Additionally, as a [Demigod], you may now access the ultimate Rank of S by upgrading an A+ Stat with 100 SP.

Julia’s eyes bulged. “One hundred Special Points?”

“You would need nearly twenty levels to reach that amount, if we add the extra 35 SP into account,” Andromache said with a frown. “I understand why no other god matched Heracles’ strength now.”

“I’m more interested in ranking up other stats like [Luck] or [Intelligence] while improving my other Skills,” Kairos admitted. His strength never came from specializing in one field, but his flexibility. “I will upgrade my [Charisma] to A+, improve all my key Skills to the fourth Rank, and keep hoarding the leftover points to improve my secondary stats later.”

“Tonight?” Julia asked.

“Later,” Kairos replied with a smile, as he glanced at his friends enjoying themselves and listening to the music. “Work will wait for the new dawn.”

First, he would spend time with his wife and Andromache, raise a statue of Nessus to honor his sacrifice, and take a few days to enjoy a well-deserved rest.

Only then would he start training in his new Skills and master them. At the same time, he would plan the spring campaign in the Thessalan League, the destruction of the Beast Cult, and the expansion of his own religion.

The road to godhood was open to him and many trials awaited.

—--------------

Spring came to the city-state of Thessala, and with it, the Olympic Games.

All cities of the Thessalan League lived in the shadow of its founding member. Its streets shimmered with marble while ships traveled all along its countless canals. Opulent villas and temples, brought with the coin of trade, stood side by side with great stone towers, arenas, and gardens. Mighty white walls manned by armies of automatons protected the city on land while a fleet of half a thousand ships waited in its harbor, ready to crush any power who dared to intrude in its waters. Thessala was a city of explorers and merchants, of philosophers and artists. Its people were the first to colonize the archipelago, and neither Pergamon nor Orthia ever managed to rival it in power and influence.

None of this would have been possible without the city’s protector; the first automaton and [Demigod] Talos. Created in the form of the Titan Helios, the giant machine watched over the city below from the top of its tallest hill, the Acropolis. Also known as the Cradle, this maze of forges never slept. Armies of automatons toiled inside its steel halls and assembly lines to help Talos create more of their kind. The machine [Demigod] only left his abode to defend his city, and the recent death of Helios had only made him more reclusive. Perhaps he had shared a sympathetic relationship with the deity whose image Hephaestus used as a model. Perhaps he was worried that the fearsome pirate king of Travia would target him next.

This bothered the ruling Archons of Thessala, but not too much. These human magistrates, elected by the people, knew Talos was bound to defend the city. Though their nation had lost some of its luster, they wouldn’t let anyone replace them.

Their families could trace back their ancestry to the city of Athens, which once ruled a vast empire in the Old World. The likes of Theseus, Solon, and the ancient sages of Greece counted among their honored ancestors. Their knowledge and brilliance had been passed on to their descendants. When the Old Gods fell, their civilization endured in a new form and gave birth to a new nation. Dozens of lesser cities paid them homage and their writ extended as far as their ships could sail.

Who would dare challenge them?

The Olympic Games were an occasion to show their power, and so they did. They spared no expenses, and all agreed that the ordeals were the most spectacular seen in the League’s history. Horse chariots raced along Thessala’s walls while Pegasus riders did the same in the skies. Athletes from all across the League competed in a spirit of peace and unity… barely hiding the cracks underneath.

Mithridates had won the election as Strategos of the League, as everyone expected… but Thessala would not follow his lead. They had invited smaller cities who had threatened to leave the League and join Lyce rather than accept Pergamon’s influence; even after the Poison King demanded that they be excluded from the games.

The Archons didn’t want to break apart the League they had helped create. But they would send Mithridates a message; that though he had bribed or threatened other cities into supporting him, he wouldn’t make any decision without Thessala’s leave.

Mithridates refused to show up at the games, though he sent a delegation of athletes. They did well, but Thessala’s people proved better. In the Poison King’s absence, tongues untied and conspiracies formed. They would wait until after the Games of course. Violence between the Thessalan League’s cities was strictly forbidden during that period. The national identity of the League rested on this illusion of unity.

But all these plots would come for naught.

On the last day of the Olympic Games, the Pergamonian athletes and delegation failed to show up. The Orthians had vanished as well, as did all the cities who supported Mithridates’ election as Strategos.

Only the delegations of secessionist towns showed up to the closing ceremony, oblivious to what would follow. Thousands had gathered in the city’s colosseum, but many were suspiciously absent.

The wisest among the Archons immediately realized the danger, but when they tried to rise from their seats, their own automaton guards pointed their spears at them.

“Please stay calm,” the machine soldiers all said, speaking in the same voice as their progenitor spoke through them. “The transition of power will be short and painless.”

“Unhand us,” Archon Miletus ordered. “By the laws of Thessala, you are bound to obey!”

“Objection overridden,” the automatons answered.

“By whom?” Archon Truclydes asked fearfully, though he already knew the answer.

Talos said only four words through his countless children, their eyes red as blood.

“Mithridates IV Pergamon.”

Only the few occupying the highest stands in the arena saw death approaching. Only they saw most of the automatons retreating to their Cradle above the city.

A single ship had appeared on the horizon… but so large it might as well have been an island. Countless oars propelled it on the waves, while entire legions of griffin riders waited on its deck.

And as it approached Thessala and called upon ancient magic from the Old World, waters receded all around the shore. Galleys and armored vessels crashed on the emptied port, while others broke as they hit each other. The sea retreated for kilometers, leaving fish stranded and gasping.

But it didn’t go far.

A wall of water appeared over the horizon, whipped into existence by Mithridates’ ultimate weapon. It was taller than Thessala’s fortifications and thicker than the city’s length. It was a sinister echo of the past, when the god Poseidon ruled the oceans.

And the wall advanced.

Neither wood nor stone could stop it as it crashed against Thessala’s fortifications, shattering them. Gardens, statues, streets, and buildings all folded before the sea’s relentless advance. Centuries of civilization were annihilated in an instant, their heirs crushed before the might of nature. Their screams were drowned by the waters alongside their hopes.

Talos’ Cradle alone remained high enough above to avoid the ocean’s fury, its machines watching on as the city they had sworn to defend fell in less than five minutes. There was no horror in their empty eyes nor regrets; their will had been stripped away, their thoughts crushed by their new master’s orders. Tools they had been, and tools they remained.

The waters claimed everything and hundreds of thousands drowned beneath the waves. Archons and foreigners, nobles and commoners, it did not matter. The ocean would claim them all and let the gods sort them out.

The opening shot of the Thessalan War had been fired.

It would be far from the last.

—----------

From his throne atop the Thalassocrator, Poison King Mithridates enjoyed his bloody work.

His dragon mount rested behind him, while his allies and officers watched the devastation. Dignitaries from all the Thessalan League had gathered on the bridge, forcefully or not, to witness the fate of rebels and secessionists.

From now on, no one would sit on the fence. The cities would unite under one vision, one Strategos; and those who clung to the old ways would only face annihilation.

When he had asked the Moirae for a Quest years ago and they tasked him to conquer Thessala in return, Mithridates didn’t second-guess himself. Though he had considered occupying the city and repurposing its arsenals, in the end, Talos’ forges were its only truly irreplaceable parts; and they were safely built on the Acropolis. Maintaining a military presence in the face of constant uprisings would have been costly to Mithridates, and Thessala’s ‘democratic’ citizens would have kept plotting against him.

Besides, a superweapon’s true strength wasn’t its power but the fear it inspired. And for that, he needed a demonstration. Mithridates thought his [Pantheon]’s patron Pontus would also be quite pleased with this ‘sacrificial offering.’

The Poison King glanced at his guests to observe their reactions. Mithridates paid more attention to his key allies, the cornerstone of his alliance, and the cogs of his new [Pantheon].

His loyal assistant Absyrtus nodded to himself, quite pleased with the weapon’s power, while Teuta and her lieutenants kept a blank face. The pirate queen had grown less useful to Mithridates since Kairos ascended to [Demigod], with most of Travia flocking to him; but she still had her own fleet and could take back her homeland once her rival perished. For Mithridates didn’t doubt for a second that he and Kairos of Travia would soon come to blows one day, and that only one of them would walk away.

General Zama looked slightly disturbed at the sheer destruction for a moment, before immediately discussing the tactical applications of the Thalassocrator with Alexandrian representatives. The famed strategist was nothing if not pragmatic. Mithridates had given him complete command of his alliance’s ground forces, knowing he would make short work of Lyce’s armies.

King Antipater smiled with a grin of absolute bliss, delighting in seeing his city’s old regional rival annihilated in a flood; his co-ruler, Euthenia, seemed about to weep in fear and terror at his side. No doubt she imagined Thessala’s fate befalling her own homeland.

Mithridates thought that she needed to see this demonstration the most out of everyone here; especially after her attempts to plot with Kairos’ Lycean whore behind his back. This time, she would understand that treachery would be answered with overwhelming force.

She would fight for the Thessalan League or watch her beloved lands sink beneath the oceans.

When the waters calmed themselves, only ruins and the intact acropolis remained of the great city-state of Thessala. Its fleets had been shattered, its walls broken, its people drowned. Talos hadn’t come out to defend the city who had grown arrogantly reliant on his help, and his forges would fuel Pergamon’s war machine.

The Poison King glanced at the golden rod next to his throne, which had made this incredible victory possible. Some said Athena had been the most cunning among the Olympians, but it was Hephaestus that Mithridates admired the most. His devices had won more wars than his brother Ares ever did.

So Mithridates had always wondered how the god could have let a creation as powerful as Talos run around unsupervised. Surely Hephaestus had to know children always strived to upstage their parents. How could he expect to avoid suffering the same fate as Kronos and Ouranos before him?

Unless he had secret insurance?

It had been a mere hunch at first, then a certainty; although many disbelieved Mithridates, he knew deep within himself that old Talos had a weakness of some kind. One that the automaton [Demigod] wasn’t even aware of.

And the Poison King had guessed correctly. Unknown to most, Hephaestus had always taken into account the possibility of his creations turning against him. All the automatons he ever built had a control device associated with them, allowing the owner to override their free will.

Even the mighty Talos had a leash.

Mithridates had gone to great lengths to locate the [Rod of Talos] and keep his discovery a secret; even slitting the throat of the archeologists who found the artifact for him. He couldn’t tip his hand until the Thalassocrator was finished and all his enemies inside the League gathered in one place. He had spent years plotting, gathering allies, building up his arsenal, securing technological superiority over Lyce, hiring mercenaries, and planning his campaign.

His patience had paid off.

Now was the time for action.

“How do you feel?” Teuta asked him, slightly disturbed by his outward lack of reaction.

“You have just committed sacrilege,” Euthenia said with a hint of disgust. “You have spit on everything the League was built on by starting a war during the Olympic Games. And Lyce… you killed dignitaries allied with the Republic. They will never forget.”

“Good,” Mithridates said, his soft voice cutting through the needless chatter. All eyes turned to him as he rose from his throne. “Let them remember what we have all done today.”

Euthenia choked. “We?”

“You could have warned the Archons of my attack,” Mithridates said before glancing at the crowd. “Each of you could have blown the whistle. Even if you didn’t know the true extent of the Thalassocrator’s power, you knew that I intended to destroy this city today. To commit the greatest crime against the Thessalan League’s ‘unity’: shedding blood during the Olympic Games. But you did nothing.”

Only silence answered. But with the exception of the likes of Zama, Mithridates saw a single emotion in the eyes of his compatriots.

Fear.

They were all afraid of him. And they were right to be. Only fear could keep a man alive in this cruel, treacherous world. Mithridates had learned that lesson well-enough, when his own mother poured poison down his cup to ensure his brother would inherit the throne of Pergamon. He had danced with death that day and never forgot.

Only fear and military might could unite the Thessalan League into the powerful, independent nation Mithridates dreamed of.

“Do you know why you all became accomplices in this daring scheme?” The Poison King asked rhetorically. “Because the Thessalan League was built on trust, and trust is a lie. When the day of reckoning came, you prioritized your city’s safety over the alliance. As you have always done.”

A few looked at him in shame, Euthenia among them. The likes of Antipater, though, listened with interest in their eyes. They knew that a new order was the order of the day, and that they would come out as its beneficiaries.

“And this is natural. This is human. This was the mistake of the Thessalan League, to try building a house on new foundations.” Mithridates marked a short pause. “But our nation will have better ones. The Thessalan League died with its founding member today, but from its ruins will rise a new nation! One forged with blood and strength! One where disunity will never be tolerated! One where its elected Strategos is not a mere figurehead, but a powerful leader who can protect its people!”

His men showed up on the bridge with a new flag Mithridates had drawn himself. It represented a mighty silver dragon on a purple field surrounded by shooting stars; one for each city in the fallen Thessalan League.

“Yes, Lyce will never forget what happened today,” the Poison King declared. “By joining me, my friends, you have drawn a line in the sand between the old and the new, the wolf and the dragon! Today, we have started a war where the only options are victory or annihilation! Lyce and its allies will try to subjugate us, to enslave our children and destroy our culture! And they will fail!”

His dragon woke up and let out a roar, as if to echo his declaration.

“For we have the power to protect our borders!” Mithridates shouted, as he raised the [Rod of Talos] above his head. “We have the power to sink their islands, to raise armies of implacable machines and gather allies from all across the world! And we shall endure! The Thessalan League is dead… but long live the Thessalan Empire!”

“Long live the Empire!” His fellow countrymen echoed his shout, all of them raising their hands. Some because they believed in his words, and others because they knew they had no other choice. With Thessala destroyed and the leadership of its allied cities wiped out in one blow, no one could stand against the new alliance until Lyce’s mobilization. “Long live the Empire!”

Zama and Teuta joined in, the former with a smile on his face, the other with an unreadable look. Even Euthenia raised up her hand, although her eyes looked down. “Long live the Empire.”

And as the Poison King felt the power dwell inside him, he understood that this slaughter was just the beginning.

The sea around the Thalassocrator turned purple as far as the eye could see, drowning the ruins and hopes of a broken city in a tide of poison. The death of thousands empowered the King of Pergamon, like sacrificial lambs slaughtered on the altar of his ascension. Today’s conquest was a feat of infamy born of cunning and treachery, but it was also one that altered the world’s destiny.

Few could boast about killing a centuries-old nation.

And as a notification appeared before Mithridates’ eyes, he knew Fate had smiled on him.

Congratulations. You have completed a Quest and achieved the rank of [Demigod]. You gained 30 Skill points and strengthened your Legend!

Your Legend evolved into [Poison Emperor]!

Kairos of Travia had become a [Demigod] by protecting a city, and Mithridates ascended by destroying one. The irony wasn’t lost on the King of Pergamon as he watched the devastation.

He couldn’t care less.

Kairos, Lyce, Sertorius… let them come, Mithridates thought, I will destroy them all.

Yesterday was dead, and tomorrow belonged to him.

—---------------------------------

End of Book II

See you in January for Kairos' last adventure.

Click here to see Kairos' End of Book II Stats (Patreon formatting is a mess)

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A/N: pffew, that was a book and a half. Didn't add the Skill upgrades yet because it feels a bit strange to have all the Skils upgraded now but only wait until next volume to explore them; Book 3 will show Demigod Kairos in action, in all of his glory ;)

One of my intents during that book was to build up on the worldbuilding, show more nations, hints about the past of the world... all building up to Kairos' ascension to Demigod and the inevitable war of the Pantheons. Volume III will have its highest stakes yet: which family/group of gods will emerge as the dominant power of the world for the years to come. Two more Calamities will follow, family secrets will be revealed, and an epic conclusion awaits. 

Also, Kairos will officially go on Kindle Unlimited in April 2022. I will post a free epub for you Patreons only this week, so you can download the book for free before that day. 

I confirm next book will also be Kairos' last. I hope you enjoyed this volume, and I will see you after my vacations for the next one. 

Best regards,

Voidy.