Kairos 30: Danse Macabre

The Foresight sailed along the Achlysian coast, and the Argo pursued it.

The distance between the two vessels was great, but the undead ship moved with unnatural speed. Whether the Argo’s oars moved by the strength of undead rowers or by its own vile will, it made no difference. It closed in on the Foresight, shortening the gap between both vessels by half a hundred meters each minute. Even Kairos redirecting the winds to power his sails didn’t make much of a difference.

A dark melody echoed across the waves, filling the livings’ ears with dreadful thoughts.

[Terror] negated by [Leadership 3]. [Paralysis] negated by [Antidote (Paralysis)].

Thankfully, preparation paid off. Kairos glanced at his crew, none of them falling prey to the song. Rhadamanthe cast the [Sanctuary] spell, a translucent barrier of light shielding the Foresight’s deck. The [Bards] among them intoned a war song, and though their empowered tunes failed to drown out the Argo’s dirge, they invigorated the crew with strength and renewed confidence; Nessus and a small team took over the ballistae; Cassandra barked orders to the men, while Tiberius unsheathed his sword. Archers readied their bows, warriors their blades, and rogues their fire rods.

Rook glanced up at his partner, alongside the Stymphalian birds onboard. “Do we go, Kairos?”

“Do I take back my true form?” Andromache asked at his side, her staff raised.

“No,” Kairos answered to both. The ships would outpace Andromache if she moved into the water, and enemy archers would snipe the flyers unless distracted beforehand. Instead, he mentally commanded the Foresight to move towards the nearest cove.

The fire rods could hit a target as far ahead as one hundred meters before their fireballs started losing their potency. The ballistae, enhanced by Thales’ new design, would inflict even more damage at a shorter range. They needed to let the Argo move closer, though not enough to board.

Though half a kilometer separated the ships, the Argo sent an advance guard. Two undead cavaliers leaped over the Argo’s deck, riding skeletal horses with flaming hooves and manes. The dreadful beasts ran on the water like on soft ground, while a flight of bloody ghosts and greenish will-o'-wisps followed in their wake.

Kairos took a good look at the horsemen. Both were pallid corpses wreathed in shadows, twins with fearsome faces. Their soulless, bloodshot eyes were cold and lifeless; one carried armored cestus weapons on his fists, the other wore heavy black armor.

The ghosts and wisps caught up to the Foresight first, and the crew welcomed them with a rain of flaming arrows. The projectiles passed through the specters, but the howling monsters vanished upon touching Rhadamanthe’s [Sanctuary]. Stronger ghosts were repelled by the invisible barrier, but kept battering it. Again they charged, and again they were pushed back.

Now that Rhadamanthe had finished casting his spell, he no longer needed to focus on maintaining it; [Sanctuary] had gained a life of its own. The minotaur priest uttered a prayer, pointing an accusing finger at a ghost. A holy light exorcised the specter. The [Priest] continued his holy work, banishing the stronger ghosts one by one. Andromache also assisted him, though her spell took the shape of flames and lightning.

“Archers, target the horsemen!” Cassandra barked orders. “Fire rods, wait for my signal!”

The bowmen opened fire at the undead cavalry, who quickly closed the gap between the ships and them. Though the armored rider had his horse dodge a volley of arrows, the cestus-wielder powered through the barrage. Projectiles broke on his skin as if they had hit a stone wall; Kairos couldn’t help but remember his fight with Andromache, many months ago.

The armored rider raised his hand, and unleashed a volley of purple spheres at the ship. The bombardment hit the Foresight and might have shredded the [Sanctuary]’s barrier, but Andromache’s magical wards repelled the assault. Though the mounted mage kept his distance, the other horseman gained ground, now being within one hundred meters of the Foresight’s stern.

Kairos used [Observer] to confirm the riders’ identities, now that they had approached enough for him to take a closer look.

Castor Polydeukes

Legend: Witchpyre’s Kindling (Hero).

Race: Undead (Eidolon)

Class: Fighter (Epihipparch, Necromaketes, Athlete, Necrorider, Heavy Cavalier).

Level: 48.

Pollux Polydeukes

Legend: Witchpyre’s Kindling (Hero).

Race: Undead (Eidolon)

Class: Fighter (Hipeus, Necromaketes, Boxer, Athlete, Warmaster).

Level: 55.

“They have the same [Legend],” Kairos said with a frown. “And Pollux is a [Hero] rather than a [Demigod].”

Eidolons weren’t ghosts, but soulless echoes left behind by heroes once they perished. Still, a pale imitation of a great warrior remained tremendously dangerous.

“They are pale shadows of the living, mindless puppets bound to their master’s will,” Andromache replied, raising her staff at Pollux. He must have entered her spell’s range. “[Petrify].”

A cloud of purple darkness surrounded Pollux, but the invincible horseman shrugged it off. Andromache gritted her teeth, while Cassandra raised a hand. “Fire rods!” she ordered, the men raising their scepters to blast Pollux. “At my command—”

“Belay that order!” Kairos shouted, before turning at Andromache. “The horses! Target the horses!”

Andromache’s eyes widened, and she lowered her staff to point at Pollux’s mount. “[Petrify]!”

This time, her magic worked wonders. The demonic horse turned to granite beneath Pollux, his charge coming to an abrupt halt. The petrified mount sank into the ocean while its rider was thrown forward, swallowed by a wave.

“Euryale taught you that?” Kairos asked his mistress with a grin.

“When the wise teach, I listen,” Andromache replied with a cruel smile. She attempted to do the same to Castor, but the mounted mage carefully stayed beyond her spell’s range. As Cassandra had warned, the undead were fearless, but not stupid. Castor battered the Foresight with purple spheres again and again, straining the ship’s magical protections.

“My wards will not resist forever,” Andromache warned with an angry frown. “And the enemy is getting closer.”

Indeed, the Argo kept gaining ground, the distance between the two vessels no more than three hundred meters. The enemy song grew louder, a stressful and terrible dirge echoing across the Sunsea. Coastal birds flew away, terrified by the music and howling wind.

Cassandra calculated the distance between the Foresight and Castor, and seized the moment when the horseman approached for another magical barrage. “Open fire!” she ordered the men.

A dozen soldiers formed a line and activated their fire rods, launching ten fireballs in Castor’s direction. To his credit, the undead rider showed incredible skill, his horse zig-zagging around the incendiary projectiles like a dancer. But he couldn’t evade them all. One fireball hit his horse, flames swallowing the vile animal and its rider both.

Though Castor didn’t rise from the waves, the undead Pollux swam after the Foresight by the strength of his arms alone. However, while inhumanly strong and fast, he couldn’t catch up with the ship. Kairos lost sight of the warrior in the darkness of night. Rhadamanthe had exorcised the other ghosts, destroying the undead skirmishers.

By now the Argo had come within two hundred meters, but Kairos couldn’t see the ghost-ship. A crimson mist had risen around the vessel, hiding its exact position.

“They’re obscuring their location, to prevent us from aiming right,” Cassandra said with a frown. “Kairos?”

“Andromache, with me,” Kairos told his mistress, as he moved to the Foresight’s stern. He raised his magical spear at the mist, calling upon a strong tornado to blow it away.

The winds bent… only to disperse, leaving the mist as thick as ever.

“I cannot alter the weather,” Andromache hissed, revealing her fangs. Though her staff surged with powers, no storm answered her call. “The atmosphere resists my will.”

The boreads’ work, no doubt. The sons of the north wind’s powers could counter both the [Anemoi Spear] and Andromache’s spells.

“Archers!” Cassandra ordered. Arrows surged through the air like thunderbolts, only to disintegrate upon touching the mist. “Do I use fire?”

Kairos shook his head. “Keep them in reserve until they get closer.”

Each charge of their rods counted.

The two ships continued to follow the coast, the lights of Moros getting closer and brighter. The Foresight would never reach that city in time, so Kairos cared little. Instead, his [Seamanship 3] Skill informed him of another hazard nearby. “We’re approaching the cove, Lord Kairos,” Tiberius warned, tensing up. “If we go in, the Argo will close our escape route.”

“The ship will catch up to us anyway,” Kairos said grimly, “all we can do is pick the right location if the dead manage to board.” He turned to look at Rook and the Stymphalian birds. “I will need your help soon. Go take the amphorae, fly out of sight, and bombard them from behind once we’ve immobilized their ship.”

“Yes, Kairos!” Rook said with a nod, immediately leaping below deck to grab the items.

“A waste of good carrion food,” Horace complained, but followed the griffin anyway.

Kairos faced Rhadamanthe, the only one left who could perhaps dispel the mist or identify the Argo’s location. “What do you see?” the [Hero] asked the [Priest]. Andromache bombarded the mist with lightning bolts, but failed to hit anything.

“I see nothing,” Rhadamanthe replied grimly. He sounded almost… resigned. “Nothing but darkness.”

The Foresight entered a deep, large cove churning with blackened seawater. Though tall, verdant cliffs surrounded the small bay, Kairos noticed a large tunnel leading into a natural tidal cavern resembling the throat of a giant sea serpent. As Tiberius warned, the entrance was too narrow for two ships to pass through, and the red mist obscured it.

By now, the unholy fog had become too close for Cassandra to wait for. “Fire rods!” she shouted, just as Rook and the flyers left the deck to prepare their bombardment.

The crew unleashed a barrage of fireballs at the mist, hoping to hit the Argo. Instead, the mist suddenly dispersed, revealing the ghost ship. Winds swirled around the dreadful vessel, forming an impenetrable shield. The fireballs bounced against it like droplets on a cold hard stone, exploding in the water or detonating against a nearby cliff. The whole cove trembled.

Not only had the barrage failed to inflict any damage, but Kairos could see that the Argo had grown hands. Two colossal arms of bones and sinew had formed above the oars, reaching for the Foresight.

Barely forty meters separated both ships.

“Nessus, the ballistae!” Cassandra ordered. “It should pierce the shield!”

“On it!” Nessus pointed the weapon at the Argo, using a modified fire rod as a projectile. With the ballista’s strength behind the blow, the projectile should bypass the protective spell and hit the hull. “Take th—

A golden arrow flew from the Argo, powered through the swirling winds, and hit Nessus in the head. It moved so fast that Kairos didn’t even have the time to deflect it with his wind spear.

The projectile hit Nessus’ helmet with such force that the metal bent, the satyr stumbling back before he could make the shot. The archer fell to the side, blood flowing from his face and left eye.

“Rhadamanthe!” Cassandra shouted in horror, the minotaur immediately moving to Nessus’ side to assist him with healing spells.

A golden arrow, Kairos thought in horror. Atalanta.

Before another crewmate could take over the ballistae, the Argo’s hands had come within inches of the Foresight’s stern. The wind protection vanished, but the distance was so short that fireballs would blow up both ships.

The undead would board.

“Prepare for impact!” Cassandra shouted, shield and sword raised. Kairos’ first mate moved to protect her captain, just as the Argo harpooned the Foresight.

Both ships abruptly stopped in the middle of the cove, as the ghoulish hands sank sharp claws into Kairos’ ship. The shock almost caused Kairos to fall, and two of his men were tossed overboard; the Foresight let out a sound that could pass for a scream of pain, while ribs formed between the Argo’s arms. Soon, they were covered in a layer of skin and sinew, forming a ghastly bridge linking both ships.

True to their discipline, Kairos’ men adopted a fighting formation. Warriors raised a shield wall to bar the bridge, while Cassandra pulled her captain, the archers, and the mages at the rear. Tiberius valiantly stood at Kairos’ side, while Rhadamanthe struggled to prevent Nessus from bleeding out. Kairos himself channeled [Spellblade] through his [Anemoi Spear], and Andromache renewed her wards.

It took a few seconds for both ships to become immobilized in the cove’s midst, during which the dark melody hastened into a fearsome war march.

All [Undead] Types gained Resistance to [Fire].

The dead poured out of the Argo like a black tide.

Kairos had only ever seen pictures of the Spartoi, or Dragontooth Warriors. These undead warriors were created by necromancers by planting dragon teeth into the ground. These skeletal monsters had the shape of men and the skulls of reptilian monsters, long sharp claws, and a vestigial bonetail. They moved in silence to the tune of the war march, carrying steel swords and shields. None used armors.

None feared death.

The undead marched on the bridge at the same pace, and hit the [Sanctuary] barrier. Though the Argo was powerful enough to ignore the spell and wards, the Spartoi weren’t. Their bones crashed against the translucent magic, unable to walk past it.

But while powerful, [Sanctuary] stopped neither swords nor arrows. Golden projectiles rained down from the Argo, the Travians raising their shields to protect themselves. The Spartoi attempted to stab people through the barrier, their steel blades clashing against the Travians’. There was no emotion in their movements, not even a hint of the bestial nature that dwelt in every human. These things were soulless machines, killing without emotion.

Rook and the Stymphalian birds chose this moment to strike the Spartoi, dropping amphorae from above while the undead archers reloaded. The containers shattered on the rising dead, the [Blessed] water within them devouring their bones like acid. From the back, Andromache rained thunderbolts from her staff, and Rhadamanthe helped Nessus back to his feet. The living held the line, the undead tide breaking against them.

We might actually win through attrition, Kairos thought. A failed attempt to summon the winds disabused him of that notion though. The boreads’ magic still countered his own, which meant the undead’s commanders remained at the rear.

With his vanguard’s path blocked, Jason of Iolcus walked on the ghoulish bridge.

Kairos didn’t even need to use [Observer] to identify the Argo’s captain. His ancient golden crown identified the shambling skeleton as a regal figure, as did his dreadful mantle of black fleece and magical bracers. Hypnotic patterns carved into the bones moved on their own, as did a thick tangle of purple entrails clinging to his torso.

The vile undead carried a long bident as his weapon, a crimson fork with blood dripping from its sharp ends. The pitchfork’s fanged, pointy ends burnt like hot iron.

Jason of Iolcus

Legend: Witchpyre (Hero).

Race: Undead (Revenant)

Class: Fighter (Raider, Dread Vanguard, Deadlord, Avenger, Champion, Necromaketes, Witch Hunter).

Level: 60.

The skeleton opened his jaw, revealing a blind, purple moray eel as his tongue. His fiery eyes looked at the Foresight’s crew, identifying Kairos. A sharp pain raced through the Travian’s left hand, the Achlysian ring on his finger now hot as molten iron.

Jason glanced at Rhadamanthe carrying Nessus to the back. Four men immediately surrounded the minotaur to protect him.

They failed. For like the gorgons, all Jason had to do was to look.

Purple flames swallowed the horned priest like a funeral pyre, ravaging his clothes and fur. The wounded Nessus stumbled as Rhadamanthe released him, covering his eyes as the fire consumed him. His terrible screams of pain and agony shook the men to the core.

Before Kairos registered what just happened, the [Sanctuary] spell shattered, consumed by a ghostly purple glow. The Spartoi stumbled through, hitting the Travians’ shieldwall. Whatever magic Jason used had not only immolated Rhadamanthe, but also canceled his spell.

“[Blessed] water!” Kairos shouted in panic, as Andromache attempted to extinguish the ghost-fire consuming Rhadamanthe with a spell. It only seemed to strengthen the flames. “Rook!”

“On it, Kairos!” Rook prepared to dive and drop an amphora on Rhadamanthe. The holy water should extinguish the undead’s flames.

A golden arrow hit the griffin in the right wing, and Rook screamed in pain.

Time seemed to freeze for Kairos, as his best friend’s blood and feathers fell on the deck. The amphora shattered a few feet away from Rhadamanthe, its content spilling out.

“Rook!” The Travian shouted in horror, as his friend lost control of his flight. The griffin fell into the waters, Kairos seeing him struggle in the dark waters from the deck’s edge. “Rook!”

Kairos instinctively prepared to dive into the sea to rescue his best friend, but Tiberius stopped his captain by grabbing him by the shoulder. “Sir, no! If you go, our men—”

“Let me,” Andromache said as she leaped from the deck. She had halfway transformed back into her true form before she hit the water, her clothes ripping out from the sudden increase in size.

“Hold the line!” Cassandra shouted, as the Spartoi pushed back the shield wall.

“I shall slay all men within reach of my bident,” Jason spoke through his vile eel-tongue. His voice was deep as an echo, the rattle of a dead man. The undead’s empty eye sockets flared with a sickly purple light as he swung his weapon threateningly. “Disappear.”

And then he charged.

Jason leaped over his undead soldiers and crashed onto the Travian shield wall, his bident shredding the steel like paper. The fiery fork melted armor and the flesh beneath, slaying three men and then six. Jason had single-handedly made a hole in the shield wall, and stepped on the Foresight’s deck.

The undead had made a breakthrough, and poured through the gap.

The Stymphalian birds attempted a bombardment to stop the tide, but a golden arrow slew one of them. Horace and his fellows dispersed, as more projectiles came from the Argo. Kairos couldn’t see the source from his current location, as Spartoi had engaged the Foresight’s crew in a chaotic melee on the deck. Swords clashed in a terrible chorus, half a scream and half a song. Chaos ruled.

As he had promised, Jason slew all men within his reach, tearing off heads and shattering rib cages with his bident. He rushed straight for Kairos, leaving only Cassandra and Tiberius as his defense. The burning Rhadamanthe rolled on the spilled holy water on the deck, his bodyguards attempting to extinguish the flames consuming him the best they could, while the wounded Nessus struggled to grab his bow. Kairos only saw a red gash where the satyr’s left eye should have been.

“Kairos,” Cassandra said, sword and shield raised as she stood before him. “He’s coming.”

Jason walked at them, Spartoi soldiers keeping Kairos’ men away. Tiberius lost his nerve and charged, sword raised at the undead leader. “Tiberius, no!” Cassandra and Kairos shouted at the same time.

Jason contemptuously backhanded the young Lycean with the strength of ten men, tossing Tiberius overboard. The undead didn’t even spare a glance at Cassandra as she stood between Kairos and him, his full attention focused on the Foresight’s captain.

“You have something that belongs to me, mortal.” Jason raised his bident at the bony ring on Kairos’ left hand. “That is my wedding ring.”

Kairos’ eyes widened, as everything fell into place.

Those bastards…

Kairos now knew which wedding guest had poisoned Prince Critias. The same Achlysian ambassador that gave him that cursed ring in the first place.

It all made sense in retrospect. Achlys and Lyce fought bitter wars in the past, and Mithridates wanted to shake off their influence in the Thessalan League. The enemy of the enemy was a friend.

Beware of witches bearing gifts indeed.

“Will you believe me, if I said I didn’t know?” Kairos said, raising his spear while Cassandra protected him with her shield. “It was a poisoned gift, to make us fight.”

Whoever won, the Achlysians would benefit from it. Either a friend of Lyce would perish, or the monster raiding their shores would be no more.

To his surprise, the undead [Hero] actually listened. He observed Kairos in silence for a while, like a hellhound trying to smell a lie. “The whore of Colchis deceived you,” Jason declared. “That wicked woman, always sending men to die in her place.”

“Front and flank?” Cassandra whispered to Kairos, so low he could barely hear it.

The old [Fighter] and [Rogue] tactic.

He didn’t even have to nod. Cass knew him so well, she might as well read his mind.

“We need not be enemies then,” Jason said, extending a skeletal hand at Kairos. “Do you fear death, young [Hero]? I can offer you… an escape. Join my crew, pledge yourself to my Quest, and we shall sail the Sunsea for centuries to come. Whatever your crimes, Queen Persephone will not claim your soul.”

“Don’t I get the same offer?” Cass asked, trying to distract the undead. “I came to slay you.”

Jason let out a sound that could pass for a snort. “You are irrelevant,” he said. “Anything less than a [Hero] is a waste of my tim—”

Kairos turned invisible mid-rant, while Cassandra rushed at Jason without warning. If the undead was surprised, he didn’t show it. His bident immediately lunged for Cass’ head, but the woman had earned her [Elite] status. She hit the bident’s shaft instead of its sharp fork with her shield, deflecting the weapon, and attempted to stab the undead’s entrails with her blade.

Under the cover of invisibility, Kairos attempted to flank the undead, spear lunging from his ribcage. He moved like a panther, making no sound. His aim was true.

Jason raised his bident with one hand to keep Cass at bay, and grabbed the shaft of Kairos’ spear with the other.

Kairos’ eyes widened in surprise, and he attempted to push his spear. It didn’t move an inch, his foe holding it still with inhuman strength.

“You fear death, even as I offer immortality?” Jason’s skull glanced at the invisible Travian, knowing exactly where he stood. “No matter. If you will not be my friend, you will be my slave.”

Cassandra charged at Jason to help her captain, but the undead’s bident shone with a purple light. The fork unleashed a stream of ghostly flames at Cass, immolating the first mate. Kairos exploited the distraction to hold his spear with his right hand and unsheathe his ceremonial sword with the left.

He would have stabbed Jason where he stood, if the undead hadn’t pivoted on himself. Kairos held his spear tight, but he was thrown away by the brutal movement; he ended his short flight near the stern, where his men had managed to reform a shield wall. Though this prevented more undead from boarding, a few Spartoi remained behind their lines to engage the pirates in a deadly dance.

“[Invisibility], really?” Jason laughed like death itself. “You may be a [Hero], young Kairos, but you are not a Hero yet.”

He threw Kairos’ own spear at his head. The Travian barely dodged by lowering his head, the [Anemoi Spear] hitting a woman fighter and a Spartoi both. The living soldier stopped moving, but the undead one wriggled on the ground.

Jason was on Kairos before the captain could recover his spear, running swifter than horse at full speed. An arrow hit the undead’s eel tongue before he could reach his target, making him hiss in annoyance.

“[Crippling Shot]!” Nessus fired arrow after arrow. “[Crippling Shot], [Crippling Shot] and… [Crippling Shot]!”

Jason began to lazily deflect the arrows with his bident and prepared to incinerate the satyr, when Cass emerged from the flames. Though her armor and weapons turned white from the heat, her [Fire Immunity] shielded her, to the undead captain’s surprise. She bashed Jason with her shield by surprise, throwing him away from Kairos.

Pushing back his fear for Rook’s safety, Kairos recovered his spear and dropped his invisibility, to better coordinate with his men. He and Cass flanked Jason from both sides, while Nessus provided cover fire. The undead danced around their blows with contemptuous ease, shaking his head in disgust.

He’s bored, Kairos realized, to his horror. Three on one, and we bore him.

“[Sanctuary]...”

Kairos interrupted his assault to glance at Rhadamanthe. The minotaur had risen again with the help of four men, his flesh burnt off his face. His eyes had turned white, and one could see part of the naked skull exposed.

And yet the priest finished his spell, an invisible barrier extending around him. The Spartoi on the deck were thrown overboard, leaving only the living on the deck.

Jason didn’t even flinch.

“That’s all you have?” he asked.

The pattern on his bones shined as bright as a violet sun, illuminating the night. Kairos managed to cover his face with his hand in time, as did Nessus. Everyone else took a blinding flash to the face.

[Blind] ailment Resisted!

When Kairos recovered his vision a few seconds later, Jason had torn through Rhadamanthe’s blinded bodyguards, tearing one in half and shattering another’s head with his bare hand. A blinded Cassandra stood by, unable to perceive anything. Rhadamanthe couldn’t react quick enough to flee.

Nessus fired an arrow to stop the undead, and for a moment Kairos thought it would strike true. But the projectile bounced off the dead [Hero]’s fleece mantle, and didn’t slow him down.

Jason swung his bident at the minotaur’s belly, and half of Rhadamanthe’s bowels spilled on the deck.

Kairos saw red, overtaken by fury. For a moment, he was brought back to his Uncle’s death, to the sight of Cass’ severed arm as Orthia’s fleet burnt. He charged at Jason with a roar, abandoning all caution for a fateful moment.

Jason didn’t strike with his bident, but his free hand hit almost as hard. His bone fingers felt like steel as they hit Kairos’ armor, the Travian feeling his ribs break in his chest. The blow nearly tossed him overboard, but the young [Hero] managed to stab the deck’s edge with his ceremonial sword, hanging on to hit. His feet dangled above the water, the [Rogue] barely hanging on.

Kairos mentally apologized to his ship while he struggled to get back on the deck, only for a shadow to emerge from the cove’s waters.

For a moment, Kairos thought it was Andromache. But the Scylla was nowhere that large, nor did she have pincers for arms. The beast was gargantuan, nearly as big as the Foresight itself, and covered in a chitinous, spiny armor. The sea monster might have been mistaken for a giant crab, were it not for the fact that he had two rows of pincers; one pair large enough to break a galley in half, and a smaller pair currently restraining the undead Pollux.

The Karkinos had risen from the tidal cavern, and it was pissed.

One of its larger pincers closed around the bone bridge linking the ships, cutting it. Spartoi fell into the sea, while the Foresight freed itself. The other pincer closed around the Argo’s mast, the furious Karkinos attempting to pull over the undead ship.

Jason stopped to look at the disaster, but he didn’t look concerned in the slightest. “Interesting plan,” he said, only to realize that with the other undead repelled, the entire crew now surrounded him. “But even a hundred mice will never bring down a lion.”

“We’ll see about that!” A reaver said before throwing an axe at the undead’s skull. Jason dodged the attack and summoned a circle of purple flames with his spear, forming a barrier preventing close-combat fighters from reaching him. The javelins thrown at him he deflected, and the arrows he outright ignored.

“Captain!” Nessus rushed at Kairos’ side, tossing his bow aside to grab his ally’s arm. “I got you.”

“Is Rhadamanthe…” Kairos glanced at the minotaur, who struggled to cast healing spells on himself. A futile effort. The gash was too large, the wounds too great. Toothless Longarus helped Cass, the first mate still unable to see.

Andromache rose above the waters on the other side of the Foresight, holding a wounded Rook with one tentacle and an unconscious Tiberius within another. After glancing at Kairos, the Scylla’s gaze turned furious and she raised her staff at Jason. A lightning bolt bounced off the undead warrior, the [Witch]’s spell unable to affect him.

“Lightning, how quaint,” Jason said, as he raised his bident at the new challenger. “Your magic will not work on me, witch.”

Andromache showed her fangs, her hound-heads snarling. “Is that so?”

She raised two tentacles to flail the undead captain. Jason leapt out of the way, glancing at Andromache’s face; the human half of the witch caught fire, piercing through her invulnerability.

“I have been burnt… once…” Andromache hissed, her focus unwavering, her determination as strong as ever. “The fire in me… burns brighter.”

One of her tentacles managed to hit the monstrous undead. Kairos watched the Argo’s captain fly overboard, Jason pointing his bident at the sea before he could fall into it. His weapon unleashed a burst of flames, the recoil allowing the warrior to rebound off the water surface. Instead of finishing his flight in the water, he landed right back on the Argo’s deck.

Kairos would have admired the undead’s sheer skill, if it didn’t make him ungodly hard to slay.

“Andromache, dive back into the sea!” Kairos shouted at his mistress as Nessus managed to pull him back onboard, the Scylla vanishing below the waves to extinguish the ghostly flames. Only a tentacle remained above water, to save Rook and Tiberius from drowning.

“Do you think dear Cass will complete her quest, if the crab wins?” Nessus asked his captain. The Karkinos held the Argo with its mighty pincers, the Spartoi’s swords and arrows bouncing off its armor.

As if to answer his words, the Stymphalian birds who had escaped the golden arrows let out a screech of sheer terror and hastily dispersed.

Kairos looked at the Argo’s deck, watching a naked giant emerge from below deck to stand at Jason’s side. This colossal mountain of muscles was two meters and a half in height, a walking hill with a beard black as coal and the pelt of a Nemean lion on his shoulders. The giant’s eyes shone with a purple glow, his skin pale as undeath.

The Foresight’s crew froze in terror, recognizing the giant.

Heracles

Legend: Witchbane’s Fist (Demigod).

Race: Undead (Eidolon)

Class: ???

Level: ???

As the mythical undead extended his arms, Nessus spoke for everyone. “Shit.”

Heracles clapped his hands.

His sheer strength caused a mighty shockwave, blowing the Karkinos back, raising waves, shaking the cover, and throwing fighters into the sea. The terrible noise that preceded it deafened the living and shattered the dead’s bones. Cass, Nessus, the dying Rhadamanthe, everyone flew like straw blown by the wind.

The Foresight’s deck snapped with an inhuman scream, and Kairos fell into the dark waters.

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A/N: chapter made possible by you, dear patrons ;)