Kairos 48: Dungeon Diving

It took until nightfall for Andromache to finish examining Hades’ Gate, as the men nicknamed it.

During that time, Kairos’ soldiers had established a rudimentary fortified camp, digging a ditch and raising a wooden palisade. Kairos and Rook had followed Aglaonice to the observatory above the dungeon’s entrance, to check on her lair. It had been what the Travian had expected from a sphinx’s abode, a set of chambers carved in stone and richly decorated in scrolls, gemstones, feathered pillows, and accumulated treasures.

The observatory, though nowhere near as grandiose as the titan Prometheus', included many devices, such as lenses, clay tablets recording the stars, and astrolabes.

“Happy with your visit?” the sphinx asked after Kairos had searched the area. “If you are looking for a secret passage, there is none.”

She might even be telling the truth. “How do you communicate with the Master Below?” the [Hero] asked suspiciously.

“With this.” The sphinx pointed at a large tablet embedded in the observatory’s floor, made of a strange crimson metal. “Do not worry, my manling, I will stick to the bare minimum of my duties. Laziness shall be my armor, boredom my sword.”

“I hope so, for your sake,” Kairos replied, before climbing on Rook’s back. “Is there anything else you can tell us about the dungeon?”

“I would, if I could,” the treacherous feline replied. “If you seek conversation, I will happily discuss the movements of stars, or life’s great mysteries. I have so many questions to ask you myself...”

“Maybe next time,” Kairos replied, knowing he wouldn’t get more assistance in clearing out the dungeon. “Would you accept a side-job, besides your current one?”

“Oh?” The sphinx rolled on her back like an amused cat, intrigued. “Do tell.”

“I have made powerful enemies, and if you are truly as skilled a diviner as you pretend, I would pay you handsomely for quality intel.”

“You speak of this [Poison King] and [Pirate Queen] you will soon wage war on?” Aglaonice smirked, though Kairos didn’t show any emotion in response. “I could be tempted to delve into their secrets, but how would you reward me for that service?”

“Silver, gemstones…”

“Look around yourself,” Aglaonice replied haughtily, showcasing the wealth of amulets around her neck. “I am already wealthier than your wolfling wife! No, manling. Quid pro quo. You will pay for questions with answers.”

Kairos sighed. “Another riddle contest?”

“I cannot let you rest on your laurels,” the sphinx replied, licking her belly like a cat. “Come back in a few days, alone, and I might enlighten you.”

“I cannot fly,” Kairos pointed out dryly, the observatory lacking anything like stairs.

“Alone with your bird,” the sphinx replied with the same deadpan tone. “Though you could also grow wings like Icarus. Be wary, manling. The sun burns all those who wander too close to its shining radiance.”

Such a subtle warning.

Afterward, the Travian rode Rook as they flew back to the camp. His men had raised tents for the night, and Nessus currently carved a peculiar statue next to Persephone’s own. Tiberius and Kairos’ officers oversaw his work, while Andromache examined Hades’ Gate not so far nearby.

“Sir,” Tiberius Plutus bowed deeply before his commander, as Kairos dismounted from his griffin.

“Is that supposed to represent me?” Kairos asked in displeasure. Nessus had taken a tree’s trunk and shaped arms and a head from the branches, but the satyr couldn’t carve a face for the life of him.

“In the absence of a sculptor, I thought we could cover the chest with armor and the face with a helmet,” Tiberius said. “Then put your flag on the statue’s shoulders. A spear should complete the illusion.”

“Oh, could I have my own statue too?” Rook said, though few among the troops could understand him. “Mine should be taller, since I’m the big brother.”

“We could take some feathers and strap them to a beast’s skeleton,” Nessus suggested. “It wouldn’t represent a griffin’s magnificence, but we left most of our [Crafters] at home.”

“You said you were the best woodworker among us short of Thales,” Cassandra mused, entertained by the satyr’s struggle.

“A woodworker specialized in bows, my dear Cassandra. Bows.”

“The feathers trick could work,” Kairos said, trying to activate his [Empathetic Link (Idol)] Skill and failing. “I cannot see through this altar yet, so it needs more work to truly represent me.”

The empathetic communication through his [Idol] was limited, since he could only share emotions rather than words; but Kairos could always establish a basic code. A wave of joy for a yes, a feeling of anger for a no. Setting an [Idol] right outside the dungeon would give the Travian awareness of what went in or out, and communicate with whatever force he left behind to secure the area.

Andromache joined them, right as Tiberius helped Nessus put on the armor over the wood sculpture. “The sphinx is gone?” she asked, sounding both happy and cautious.

“She says she cannot help us more than she already did, at least on the dungeon front,” Kairos replied.

“Of course she won’t do more,” Andromache snickered. “I have identified the spells woven into the structure. Some will prove problematic.”

Kairos crossed his arms. “Go on.”

“Only those with keys or authorizations from the dungeon’s master can cross the miasma barrier,” his concubine explained. “Summoning spells do not work within these walls, except if cast by a [God]. No one can teleport in or out.”

This part would be more of an asset than a hindrance. Kairos’ army had no true summoner.

“Second, as you know, powerful magic prevents divination in this part of the island,” the Scylla said. “This temple is the source, my other half. Once inside, no divination magic of any kind can take place. Reading thoughts, seeing the future, scrying… as far as these arts are concerned, nothing exists within these walls.”

“Would it be possible for someone inside the temple to scry on what happens outside?” Kairos asked.

“It would be,” Andromache replied, “but long-distance communication would not work, unless the casters are exempted from the dungeon’s restrictions.”

As Kairos had suspected, they could learn what happened outside the walls, but not send any message. It made setting a [Idol] next to the entrance all the more important.

“More worrying, the dungeon’s master will learn of our coming the moment we enter,” Andromache continued. “The magic repairs any structural damage to the temple, so I cannot bring the walls down with flames either.”

“So we can expect resistance soon after we move in,” Cassandra guessed, bringing out the map that Aglaonice had drawn for them. “If we trust this scroll, the [Rock of Theseus] should be in the fourth room. If we move quickly, we should be able to recover it before the local monsters can organize. However…”

“It’s possible that the Master Below already learned of the Nemean Lion’s demise,” Kairos said. “In which case, they will expect visitors.”

“So how do we proceed?” Agron asked, a fiery axe in hand and his silver lyre around his belt. “Subtle or loud?”

“We will do it quickly,” Kairos decided. “Cass, Agron, Nessus, Andromache, you will follow me inside. Our priority is to take a first look and get that stone, so a smaller team will work better for a scouting operation.”

“What about me, sir?” Tiberius asked, after setting the helmet on the [Idol]. The young man was eager to prove himself, but he was unfortunately too low-level for the area ahead.

“You will fortify the entrance, and make sure no other monster gets in,” Kairos ordered, fearing a pincer attack. “You will lay the foundations for a more permanent settlement, but if you don’t hear from us by next nightfall, you return to Histria and inform my wife.”

“You want to leave a permanent force here?” Cassandra asked with a frown. “To make it grow, we will have to leave keyless people behind. If anything happens, they might end up getting stranded.”

“I know, but we need to fortify the area before the local monsters return with the spring,” Kairos replied. “And afterward we must ensure that raiding parties can still access the dungeon. Having a base where they can resupply will make exploration much easier.”

The Travian bristled, as a strange sensation raced down his spine.

His eyes glanced at the source of his feeling, the statue which Nessus had raised. The satyr had just finished putting Kairos’ hydra flag over the armor and helmet, and though it only looked vaguely like the Travian [Hero], it seemed to have done the trick.

Kairos had raised his first [Idol].

Now, it was time to enhance it.

You used 3 SP to purchase the [Healing Altar] Legendary Skill. Your [Idols] can now provide magical healing three times per day to those praying to them. The healing spell will cure minor wounds, remove fatigue, and purge minor illnesses; it cannot cure mental damage nor regrow limbs, nor will it work against powerful plagues or poisons.

“Alright, if anything happens, retreat to my [Idol] and it will provide healing duties,” the Travian informed his men. Kairos would have preferred to buy the [Enthralling Idol] Skill, but the life of his existing men took priority over acquiring new ones. “It can only provide healing three times a day, so do not use it for frivolities.”

“Must we offer prayers?” Nessus mused, before doing his best impersonation of a supplicant. “‘Oh, mighty Kairos, please grant me another eye, so that I may hunt your enemies in the dark’!”

“The [Idol] cannot regenerate your eye, unfortunately,” the Travian replied, genuinely saddened. “But you have a point, I should make commandments and ceremonies. I wonder how the others manage these elements.”

“The monster-centric religions I know of are Typhon, Echidna, Lycaon, and Hybris,” Cassandra replied. “None have a good reputation, all practice human sacrifice, and each advocate waging war on other religions.”

“In short, oh my captain, you should do the opposite of your competition,” Nessus mused. “You must use words where they use claws.”

“So keep doing what I have been doing?” Kairos replied with a smirk. But his friends had a point. There was a space for him to occupy, as a deity of monsters that wasn’t hostile to civilization on principle; a [Hero] who favored diplomacy and battle in equal measure.

Kairos had seen that many ‘monsters’ like Horace, Euryale, even Aglaonice could coexist with civilized species. But if all monstrous deities were violent, then peaceful or pragmatic monsters couldn’t find any deity to represent their interests. Attracting inhuman followers alongside humans, minotaurs, and the other civilized species would be a major boon.

Kairos’ thoughts turned to his mother Aurelia, who had been chased away from her home for the crime of being born a werewolf. Though she had found a husband and a home in Travia, she had suffered greatly by the virtue of her birth.

Everyone should have the right to live.

“Tiberius?” Kairos said.

“Yes, sir?” his aide-de-camp immediately straightened up.

“Grab a scroll, you will write down the early tenets of my cult.” He would create a simple codex of laws, and refine it. “Here is my first commandment: there is no stronger weapon than the word, and it is by the word that my cult shall spread its message. War only has a place when trade and diplomacy have failed. All creatures are welcome to pay me homage and ask for my protection, no matter their origin. We are all children of Gaia, and thus share the world equally.”

“I dread the day you will have a Cetus follower,” Cass said with a smile, while Tiberius quickly grabbed a scroll and started dutifully writing down Kairos’ words. “Races shouldn’t be the only thing you should take into account. Gender, marriage, society… These are all important subjects you should offer guidance on.”

Indeed. In which case, Kairos’ faith would be an extension of his country’s laws and ideals. “Since gods and goddesses both rule the heavens, both men and women will rule the Earth as equals,” the Travian king declared. “Skills and virtues are more important than birth, and children born in and out of marriage will be entitled to a share of their parents’ inheritance. Same with widows and widowers. Each will have a chance to rise on merit, no matter their origin.”

“You should also forbid the excesses of the likes of Typhon or Echidna, my other half,” Andromache suggested shrewdly. “Nobody likes being sacrificed on a god’s altar.”

“Griffin sacrifices should be forbidden too, until the end of times!” Rook protested.

“I think you could stick to cows and fruit,” Nessus voiced his agreement.

“You should also encourage your followers to explore the world,” Cass argued. “We wouldn’t have found this island otherwise.”

And so, Kairos spent a few minutes debating with his officers about the finer points of the cult. Free spirits, discoverers, and adventurers would be honored. Everyone would be encouraged to sail the Sunsea, to find new lands, and spread the word to all corners of the world. However, the horrors of the other monster religions, such as cannibalism, race wars, slavery, and human sacrifices, would not be tolerated.

Nessus interrupted the debate though, when he noticed something in the darkening skies with his [Darkvision 2]. “Look,” he said, pointing his bow at the heavens above. “We’ve got company.”

Kairos raised his eyes, and noticed a monster as large as a horse flying to their location.

As per his [Cult (Hero)] Skill, the [Idol] had called a local monster to serve as its guardian.

The creature was a floating horror, a gnawing maw with at least four rows of sharp teeth hungry for blood. A cyclopean evil eye dominated black horns and orange scales, while a vestigial fishtail wagged behind. The monster looked like an unholy cross between a lamprey and an oversized mouth.

A Cacodaemon. An evil spirit of madness, and a devourer of the dead.

Kairos’ men drew their weapons as the creature approached, but the Travian raised a hand to calm them. Instead, the daemon landed next to the [Idol], its globulous eye moving from the representation to Kairos himself.

“You summoned Eurynomos?” the creature asked, with the ugliest voice the Travian had yet to hear. The [Idol] instantly translated his words into each listener’s native language.

Eurynomos the Corpsetaker

Legend: None (Elite).

Race: Daemon (Cacodaemon)

Class: Monster

Level: 21

“I am Kairos of Travia, the [Monster Reaver],” Kairos introduced himself to the fiend, the rest of his group calming down. “I raised this altar.”

“It called me, and I answered,” the daemon replied, floating around the [Idol]. “Its power can sustain me. Soothe my hunger.”

“Only if you serve,” the Travian said.

“If Eurynomos serves, yes…” The creature licked its sharp teeth. “A new [Hero] of monsters. Are you a son of Typhon, or Echidna?”

“Neither.”

“I thought so. You look too beautiful. Too human. A monster’s soul in a man’s skin.” Liquid drooled from the daemon’s fangs. “What is thy bidding, Master?”

“You shall protect this [Idol], grant healing and shelter to my allies if they ask, and offer advice to my worshippers.” Kairos turned to Tiberius. “My aide will teach you the tenets of my cult.”

“May I eat the dead?” The ravenous daemon asked. “Just a taste.”

“No, except sacrificial offerings or the remains of trespassers.”

“Mmm…” The fiend seemed displeased.

“This is more than you will receive from any other cult,” Kairos reminded him. Daemons were evil spirits, usually either exorcised or bound to servitude by powerful Goetic mages. “I will have my followers sacrifice animals to the altar on a regular basis, so you may feed. Food offered to me is food offered to you, and you shall devour it on my behalf.”

“Good,” the daemon said, reassured.

“Tell worshipers to pray at twilight, so that I may listen to their prayers.” Since Kairos needed to focus on a [Idol] to listen, he should already begin organizing the time for prayers. “Welcome anyone who will submit to me. Men, women, monsters…”

“Daemons?” Nessus chuckled.

“Them too,” Kairos replied, arms crossed. “You won’t see much traffic for now, Eurynomos, but more will follow.”

“Silence suits me,” the creature replied with a shrug. “This is the abode of the dead, of the lost and the broken. I will tell them to worship your image, and I will feed on the blood they bring.”

And so, Kairos recruited a fiend as his first ‘priest.’

With the [Idol] and the camp raised, Kairos prepared to lead his small troop into the dungeon. Rook followed on foot, before his best friend stopped him. “You stay here, Rook,” Kairos ordered.

“What?” The griffin didn’t hide his displeasure. “Why?!”

“You can hardly fly in an underground temple,” Kairos stated the obvious.

“But look at my claws! Look at how sharp they are!” And to illustrate his point he raised his foretalons.

“Rook, I don’t doubt your bravery, but we’re at our best when we fight in the air,” Kairos explained calmly. “Our troops here are in the open and will need a flying protector too.”

This didn’t convince the griffin. “Who is going to protect you if I’m not here, huh? Have you thought of that?”

“I will take care of him, little bird,” Andromache said with a kind smile that warmed Kairos’ heart. Once, she would have fallen back on fear to make the griffin behave, rather than using patience. “You trust me, do you not?”

“Yes, I do, but…” Rook frowned. “What if you don’t come out?”

“I will return.” Kairos ruffled his friend’s feathers. “By standing watch, you will protect my rear. And if you promise to stay, I will bring you a treat on my return.”

Where words failed, the promise of food succeeded. “Like horse meat?” Rook asked with excitement, Kairos responding with a nod. “Mmm… I will let you bribe me. But only this one time.”

Eurynomos, who listened to the conversation, immediately tried to exploit the situation. “Can I get horse meat too?”

“Maybe,” Kairos replied, before grabbing his spear. He had also attached a small fire wand to his belt, to serve as a back-up long-range weapon. “Ready?”

His troops nodded. Cassandra wore strong hoplite armor, a rounded shield in one hand and the [Fork of Nemesis] in the other; she and Agron moved at the front, the minotaur using a breastplate so thick that an elephant would struggle to pierce it. Nessus with his golden bow and Andromache with her scepter closed the march.

The group walked through the miasma gate, leaving their troops behind. Kairos took Andromache’s hand as their turn came to pass through the mist; it smelled of both sweet mint and rotting corpses.

It took the Travian pirate ten steps before he reached the other side, a vast circular chamber shrouded in darkness. While it might have once been a pristine entrance hall, dust now covered the walls. The group had landed on a crescent-shaped walkway of wet stone.

Cassandra raised her fork. A ghostly flame appeared within the two points of the bident, casting a bright green light in the chamber and illuminating it. “I didn’t know you could do that,” Kairos said.

“I gained a Legendary Skill after becoming a [Hero], remember?” Cass replied with a smile. “My light will repel the undead too.”

[Lady of Cinders] indeed.

Now that Kairos could see, he took a moment to observe the chamber. The ceiling rose as high as twenty meters, while iron doors three times smaller waited on the other side of the walkway. A colossal statue stood in the middle of the room, vomiting the river Acheron from its ghoulish mouth. The creature resembled a ghastly, hooded figure, with two great black wings and a noseless face. Its empty eyes seemed to shine when Cass pointed her fork at it. The statue’s expression was hateful, snarling.

“Thanatos,” Andromache recognized the entity, still holding Kairos’ hand. Her fingers clenched around his own. “Son of Nyx, the starless night.”

“Alias Death,” Nessus said. “And not just the peaceful kind.”

Thanatos, though a 'mere' [Demigod], held a special role in the universe. Much like the Fates, he was an extension of the System itself, a core function of the world. He couldn't be killed, his [Legend] couldn't be stolen, and his touch couldn't be evaded forever. 

Only delayed.  

The entity's statue seemed to stand watch over the entrance hall, like Cerberus before the underworld’s gates. An [Idol]. “Could it be the Master Below?” Kairos wondered out loud.

“This would be terrible news, oh my captain,” Nessus replied grimly, as he calmly observed the statue and the walkway. The sound of his footsteps echoed as he moved closer to the iron doors.

Andromache nodded. “Hateful Thanatos despises all living things, and even the deathless gods beyond his grasp.”

“Only the promise of death on a massive scale can secure this old fiend’s favor,” Nessus added.

“The Master Below might be someone else,” Cass replied, skeptical. “The Necromanteion is a temple dedicated to the underworld’s deities. Hades and Persephone’s statues stand watch outside too.”

“Point taken,” Kairos replied, before glancing at Nessus. “Is the path ahead clear?”

The satyr, the most experienced in trap-finding, nodded. “Our lovely Scylla will need to take a look at the doors though.”

Andromache broke hand contact with her lover, casting spells on the doors. The group would advance slowly and cautiously, as monsters or traps could await them at every turn.

The Scylla’s magic revealed ancient Greek words drawn with fiery glyphs on the doors. “What does it say?” Agron asked.

“‘Abandon all hope, you who enter here,’” Andromache answered, before shaking her head. “This is a mere warning. No spell protects these gates.”

“I don’t have hope.” The minotaur raised a hoof. “I have certainty.”

He forced the doors open with a kick, and the party carefully advanced into the next room.

As Kairos had expected, the ceiling’s height narrowed to a more modest seven meters, not enough to fly well. The next chamber was cubical in shape, each corner occupied by a statue. The one to the group’s left represented a man chained to a burning wheel, whose ghostly flames were all too real; on the side, three women tried to fill a container with seemingly bottomless jugs of water, but the liquid flowed out of holes before evaporating.

The statues on the opposite side of the room represented a man pushing up a boulder on a small hill; and the other, a three meters tall giant whose heart was devoured by two vultures. A new set of iron doors stood between these two representations, waiting.

Kairos recognized the statues as Tartarus’ most infamous prisoners. Ixion, who tried to rape the goddess Hera while being Zeus’ guest, and whose lust now burnt him forever; the Danaides, who murdered their husbands and were forced to fill a bath without end; Sisyphus the cunning, who tried to escape death only to roll a boulder for all eternity; and the giant Tityos, a violator of goddesses tormented by winged scavengers.

Nessus raised a hand to stop the group before they could investigate. “Trap?” Kairos asked.

“Traps, plural,” the satyr clarified, grabbing a pouch around his belt. He released a colored powder from it, revealing a few key details. Irregular patterns in the dust, a slight depression in the stone floorboard… and a near-invisible string, almost impossible to see.

Nessus walked over these traps without triggering them, but when he moved into the middle of the room, the iron doors on the other side suddenly vanished.

“Nessus, damn it, what did you do?” Cass asked with a frown.

“Nothing,” the satyr replied, before taking a step back. The door reappeared immediately.

Nessus frowned, but kept studying the traps. He identified two lines of them, a row of trapped slabs and a trap-wire. “Stepping on the slabs will cause Ixion’s firewheel to tour the room and return to its position,” he explained “The string will cause Sisyphus’ boulder to fall off and flatten whoever is in the way. If you are careful, you can advance without triggering them.”

“And the other statues?” Cass asked.

“Decoys, or puzzles,” the satyr replied with a shrug.

“Puzzles,” Cass declared firmly, her eyes set on the door. She carefully stepped over the traps, but when she approached the opposite gates too closely, they vanished. "Definitely a puzzle.”

Agron nodded. “I can already see the logic.”

“The four elements,” Kairos said. Ixion represented fire, the Danaides water, Sisyphus the earth, and Tityos air.

“Huh?” Agron raised an eyebrow and mulled it over. “I was about to say Tantalus, but that fits too.”

“Why Tantalus?” Cass said with a frown. “I don’t see him among the statues.”

“For the crime of serving human flesh to the gods, Tantalus was starved and chained within reach of food and drink,” Andromache explained. “But whenever he attempted to drink or eat—”

“The food and drink moved out of his reach,” Kairos finished, pointing his spear at the gates. “The door will appear visible, but disappear as soon as we seem to reach it. Our heart’s desire remains beyond our grasp.”

Cassandra blinked, before regaining her composure and glancing at Nessus. “Can you disarm the traps?”

“Not without triggering them first, beautiful. I say we should try to approach that door first.”

Everybody agreed, but none succeeded. Kairos tried to approach the door while under the cover of [Invisibility], Andromache attempted to dispel the magic, Nessus looked for a hidden passage, Agron dented the wall with his axe, and Cassandra prayed to Persephone.

Nothing worked.

“Definitively a puzzle,” Cass said, trying to figure out a way out. “Perhaps we must make up for Tantalus’ crime?”

Nessus chuckled darkly. “By eating human flesh and spitting it out?”

Kairos didn’t pay attention, focusing on identifying a pattern. Andromache examined the statues with magic. “All the prisoners suffer from eternal, pointless torment like we do,” he said.

Nessus caught on first. “So if their punishment ends, so will ours?”

Andromache immediately attempted to dispel the statues’ magic. The burning wheel of Ixion dimmed for a moment, and water stopped flowing from the Danaides’ jugs, but soon flames and liquid returned. “The dungeon’s magic is stronger than mine,” the witch declared with an angry hiss. “I cannot suppress it.”

Agron attempted to shatter the vultures eating Tityos’ liver, but the statues magically reformed whenever he even grazed them. However, he noticed something. “That statue can be moved,” he said, as he faced Tityos’ representation. “It is not anchored to the ground.”

“Neither are the Danaides,” Cass said, after checking.

The solution appeared obvious to Kairos. “Agron, Andromache, push Tityos’ statue against the string,” he said. “Nessus, Cass, help me move the Danaides onto the trapped slabs.”

“You want to trigger the traps intentionally?” Cass asked, before blinking. “Oh, wait, I see what you have in mind… it could work.”

The Foresight’s captain grinned. “It will.”

In the end, Andromache had to briefly adopt her true, monstrous shape to help with the task, but the two groups moved the statues in the position Kairos had envisioned. The Danaides triggered the Ixion’s trap, and Tityos Sisyphus’ string.

Immediately, Ixion’s fire wheel let out a screeching sound and charged, its flames blinding; Sisyphus immediately dropped his boulder at the same time, the enormous stone rolling into the room. Kairos and his allies barely had the time to step out of their way.

The burning wheel’s course ended against the Danaides’ container, the shock shattering its edge and causing Ixion’s statue to fall into the water. Immediately, the bottomless jugs sprayed the ghostly flames with liquid, both turning to steam. On the other side of the room, Sisyphus’ boulder flattened the vultures, but shattered against Tityos’ chest.

Almost immediately, all four statues collapsed into dust as time caught up to them. The iron doors on the other side of the room reappeared, and this time didn’t vanish when Cass reached out for the handle. “Nice work,” she congratulated her former captain.

Kairos chuckled. “I figured that much like the four elements, some would counter the others.”

“Do not be too proud of yourself, my other half,” Andromache said with a smile. “This is but the first level, and the ordeals will only get harder as we go down.”

Her lover sighed. “I know, but I will take joy where I can.”

“But it was clever,” the witch conceded, before lightly kissing him on the cheek.

Cass opened the next door with an amused grin, pointing her fork to reveal what awaited them beyond; a tunnel with a low, narrow ceiling, so vast that her flames could only illuminate the beginning. A red line drawn on the ground paved the path ahead.

And on both sides were statues of monsters.

Manticores, chimerae, spartoi, hydras, cerberi, and other horrors… two members of each species faced one another row after row, their numbers stretching as far as Cassandra’s light could carry.

Nessus sighed, as if he had already faced a similar situation before. “Some of them are going to wake up and attack, aren’t they?”

“Maybe,” Kairos replied. “So we will take no risk, and smash them one row at a time.”

Agron grinned ear to ear. “Now, we’re talking.”

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