Demi-God Twin Chapter 21: Life Belongs To Itself.

Chapter 21: Life Belongs To Itself.

(Iphicles’ P.O.V.)

The masked assassins are the first to advance, their black robes swirling as they dart toward us like shadows, curved daggers glinting in the dim firelight. We're quickly surrounded.

“Anissa,” I sharply call, stepping in front of her, my wings unfurling and spreading out slightly. “Stay behind me. Ori—get ready."

Anissa does not refuse, the tone in my voice leaves no room for such.

The Ogre’s lips curl into a savage grin. “Finally,” he says, cracking his knuckles. “I was looking forward to crushing some skulls.”

The Priestess doesn’t even flinch at the massive green Ogre leaking aggression.

“How quaint,” she drawls. “The Ogre and the blasphemer think they can escape divine judgment. Fools! It's called pre-ordained for a reason! Get them!”

My wings snap forward, sending a storm of razor-sharp feathers into the enemies charging us.

The Children of Enyo dodge the barrage but leave the soldiers behind open. Blood sprays as the metal feathers pierce through armor and flesh, cutting down the first wave in seconds.

The chamber is filled with blood and howls of pain in seconds.

The assassins hesitate, their cold eyes darting to the dying men, but the Priestess snarls, “He’s just a mortal! Attack!”

The assassins recover, closing in quickly.

“Ori!” I shout, using a wing to deflecting dagger aimed for my throat.

With a roar, the Ogre barrels into the fray, swinging his massive fists. A smaller assassin leaps at him, but Ori grabs the man mid-air and slams him into the ground hard enough to make the floor crack.

“Master, we must get you out of here!” Anissa calls from behind me, hoisting her axes in preparation.

“I know!” I growl, slicing through two more assassins with a wing tip.

A blade grazes my side, and I grit my teeth against the sting. My left wing lashes out, decapitating my attacker in one clean motion.

The Poison laced on the Assassin's dagger drips off the wound as it closes up. Regeneration is effective on toxins? I'm liking this attribute more and more.

Ori smashes through a group of soldiers while I keep the children of Enyo off his back. Our teamwork is seamless, almost as if we've fought together before.

However, reinforcements pour into the hall faster than we can cut them down.

The assassins are more disciplined now, their strikes coordinated as they swarm me.

“Anissa!” I yell, barely fending off a spear aimed for my chest. “Take Ori and secure us horses. We’re leaving!”

Anissa hacks off a soldier's arm before turning my way, eyes wide in protest. “But Master Iphicles—”

“No arguments!” I snap, vaulting over arrows before downing the archers with feathers. I land, splitting an overzealous assassin in two. “The bigger picture is escaping and getting to the village. We can’t waste any more time.”

Ori snarls, shoving an assassin into the wall hard enough to crack the stone. “I’m not running, Iphicles! Let me crush more human skulls first!”

I duck under a blade and kick the wielder in the nuts before glaring at the Ogre. “You want Chiron to die because you were too stubborn to run? Think, you idiot!”

The insult makes him bristle, but I can see the sense of my words sinking in. He curses under his breath and looks toward Anissa.

“Come on!” she urges, grabbing his arm.

Ori snarls one last time before charging toward the window with her. With one swing of his massive fist, he shatters the glass. “Don’t die, you bastard!” he roars over his shoulder before disappearing into the night with Anissa.

I turn back to the room, my wings spreading to block the path to the window.

Blood pools around my feet, and the soldiers hesitate, their weapons trembling.

The Governor, cowering behind a table, points a shaking finger at the door. “What are you waiting for? Go after them!”

A feather flies from my wing like a bolt, pinning his head to the wall. His lifeless body slumps, the room falling silent for a moment.

I glance at the surviving soldiers and assassins. “No, please stay, I insist.” I say coldly.

The Priestess steps forward, her white eyes gleaming with malice.

“You’re bold for a mortal,” she sneers. “But your wings won’t save you. I’ve seen your death, Iphicles son of Amphitryon. Heracles will pluck those wings from your back like feathers from a chicken.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, I retract my wings, reaching down to pick up a discarded sword.

Her smirk fades slightly. “What are you doing? Are you so arrogant to think you can stand against Enyo's blessed blades without your wings?”

I raise the blade, shifting into a ready stance. “Come and find out.”

Her eyes narrow. “Very well. Take him alive, but feel free to dismember.”

The assassins charge, and the room descends into chaos.

---

I don’t have time to think—only to move. Blades strike from all sides, slicing into my arms, my chest, and my back.

Each wound burns, but I push through the pain, cutting down anyone who gets too close.

A spear pierces my shoulder, and I snarl in frustration, snapping the shaft in half before swinging my sword in a wide arc.

The steel bites into flesh, and another assassin falls.

“Damn it,” I mutter through gritted teeth. The injuries sting, but my regeneration is already knitting the torn flesh back together.

The Priestess watches from the corner of the room, her lips curling in a mocking smile. “You’re only delaying the inevitable,” she calls. “Heracles will crush you. It is fated.”

Her words fuel my anger, and I lunge at the nearest assassin.

Another blade slashes across my chest, but I barely register the pain as my wounds heal. The Assassin is surprised and tenses, only to lose his head with a sword swing.

I use my foot to flick up a second sword from the ground, blocking a slash from the shadow at my back. Both weapons sink into his neck and he gurgles falling to his knees.

The five or so assassins and dozen soldiers left falter, their confidence waning as they realize I’m not slowing down.

“What are you waiting for?” the Priestess snarls. “J- Just Kill him!”

They charge again, but it doesn’t matter.

I am the grim reaper.

Without the fear of death, I charge into the fray, my swords cutting through them like scythes through wheat. T

he room is filled with screams, the metallic scent of blood heavy in the air.

When the last body falls, I slowly stagger toward the Priestess, regenerating and drenched in blood.

She stares at me, her confidence finally cracking. Pale eyes paling even more with dawning fear.

“Prophecies,” I rasp, raising my blade, “can be wrong.”

I swing downwards.

---

The courtyard is quiet as I push the doors open.

Ori and Anissa sit atop massive direwolves, surrounded by several bodies.

Their eyes widen as they take in my appearance.

“Master Iphicles!” Anissa cries, dismounting quickly. “Are you hurt?”

I shake my head, waving her off. “It’s not my blood.”

Her eyes widen in shock. “But your body—”

“It’s fine. My wounds have all healed.” I say firmly, cutting her off. She frowns in confusion but says nothing.

Ori lets out a booming laugh. “You look like you just fought half an army.”

“Maybe I did,” I reply dryly, eyeing the massive wolves. “Direwolves, huh? How did you—”

He smirks, patting the wolf beneath him. “Didn’t tame him. Just asked for his help. His name’s Grizzly.” He pauses, then snickers. “Humans really don’t listen, do they? Told you I had a pet direwolf once.”

I roll my eyes, too tired to argue. “Let’s just go. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

Grabbing Anissa's hand, I hoist myself onto her Direwolf.

As we ride out of the courtyard, the bleeding captain with a scarred face stumbles forward, reaching for Ori. “You can’t take my Direwolf! It's mine!” he yells.

Ori whistles sharply, and Grizzly growls before lunging at the man. The captain’s screams are short-lived as the direwolf tears into its former master savagely.

Ori watches grimly, his voice low. “All life belongs to itself, foolish human. You own nothing and no one. Certainly not Grizzly, ain't that right boy?”

The Direwolf's chest rumbles in response.

As the town fades into the distance, Anissa glances at me nervously. “Master—”

“Don’t call me that,” I say quietly. “Just… Iphicles is fine.”

She nods, her voice soft. “Yes, Ma—Iphicles.”

I lean back against the wolf’s thick fur, exhaustion finally taking hold.