by James Hunter
But she’d already adjusted her points.
I pulled up her character sheet and went through her choices. She wasn’t messing around. She’d poured all her Attribute Points into Intelligence, making her even more of a genius. As for her Ability Points, she’d upped her Rune-Craft and her Engineered-Armor. That was good. All of them were good. I had a plan brewing in my head.
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I WAS NEXT, AND I KNEW exactly what I wanted. Our next mission would be vital. Myrina was right. If we could destroy the monster generators, that would be one thing, but if we could also set up an encampment in the Temple of Hades, we could bottle Hades’ armies up at the source. To accomplish that, however, I’d need to battle at my best. So I was going to focus on the Path of War exclusively. Phoebe had the orb glowing, projecting my character sheet for all to see. Persephone looked on with dazzled eyes. Asteria had finally settled down, though she was frowning for some reason.
Myrina and Phoebe, however, were watching what I did carefully.
For the Attribute Points, I increased my Strength, boosting my Health, then added a few to my Intelligence, which affected my Divine Essence, and a couple to Fortune, which improved my attack and miracle damage, since a lucky blow was always welcome. Just ask any gamer who has rolled a critical hit during a key battle.
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NOW FOR THE ABILITY Point. I thought about my desire for Innovate and Elemental Smithing, but the godstone scoffed at all that. Without another thought, I chose Smite. And I was thrilled with the results.
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USING SMITE WITH THE Crystal Scythe? The amount of sheer destruction I could dish out would be epic. Legend—wait for it—dairy. I was curious about Bloodlust, but what I really wanted was the Colossus ability. I couldn’t access it until level thirty, but it would allow me to grow to the size of a Kaiju, and then nothing would stand in my way. I would be victorious, winning every battle and securing my own place in the history of the gods. I would be adored and feared by all.
The godstone burned in glorious affirmation of my every choice. As I modified my character sheet, I could feel tendrils of power—of insidious influence—reaching into my brain like skeletal fingers. Making it harder to think. To remember who I was, or what I wanted.
Myrina and Phoebe both looked at each other and then glanced down.
“Are you two messaging?” I asked them, my voice oddly cold. Almost detached, even to my own ears.
Maybe, Phoebe sent. But you are the god of war, after all. I just hope you don’t regret your decision. Sure, that will help you in personal combat, but I’m not so sure that is the right course to take. I was hoping you’d go after Elemental Smithing or Innovate or something else on the Path of the Builder.
Or the Path of Miracles, Myrina put in with a little uncertainty. She wasn’t the best at using the messaging system. Plague Locust has proved useful time and again. And it keeps you back, out of the fighting, lest an errant blow bring you down.
I cleared my throat. “This is what I have chosen, my Amazons,” I growled. “I will lead us to victory.”
Persephone let out a laugh, though not a friendly one. “I have heard you say that before, Ares.” She’d lost her giddiness and now sounded like an eternal cynic. “But victory in the Olympian War eluded you, and many of the gods and goddesses were slain because of your arrogance.”
“What do you know of victory?” I thundered back, a snarl on my lips.
She shrugged and laughed more, unconcerned by my rage. “Oh my Zeus, perhaps you are right! What do I know? I have lost again and again, kidnapped by Hades, forced into marrying him. The list goes on. Even my grand escape failed. I had to go back because of gods-damned pomegranate seeds. You are right, oh great god of war. And yet, I have dined with heroes long dead.
“I have seen good men and bad men laid low by death, and not by my husband, Hades, but by Thanatos, the primal god of death. I know defeat, surely, and the paths that lead there. I will not speak to you of your business, but know this—if the world was only won by the strength of a single arm, Hades would have already been victorious.” She smiled at her own long speech. Her face was flushed, since she’d been hitting the wine hard. Yet she locked eyes with me, and neither one of us looked away. I felt some kind of connection with her.
Maybe it was just the fact that we were both living deities. Or maybe it was something else. Something more. She was so beautiful. I wanted her, and I thought of going for her right then. But no, we had to get ready for the ten o’clock attack.
“All of this talk is wearying,” I stood, grasping the hilt of my sword. “I prefer glorious battle over incessant prattle.”
Phoebe grabbed my arm. Dude, you’re rhyming, and the Greek gods were not meant to do any kind of rapping. You need to come with me, like, right now. Also, what did we talk about, huh? Words and phrases like wearying, glorious battle, and incessant are red flags. Or maybe Ares road flares.
I ignored her words. “Farewell,” I said. “Myrina, secure Persephone before the battle. We cannot trust her.”
Persephone immediately protested. “By the buds of springtime, I would fight!” She sounded fierce now—a soldier ready to kill. “After lifetimes of throne rooms, a queen’s heavy crown, trapped in the heart of death, I would do my part. OMZ! I did nothing during the Olympian War, and I have regretted it for eons.”
OMZ? I wondered
Oh my Zeus, Phoebe sent back.
Well, at least Persephone was remembering more.
“Then you will fight with us,” I said, not a question but a statement of absolute fact. “And if you betray us, you will die a thousand deaths of—”
Dude! Seriously! Phoebe’s voice cut me off. You need to stop that, like, right now. This is getting outta control. Come on, wannabe Ares. You’re not gonna make friends and influence people with threats of a thousand deaths of anything.
There was still enough Jacob in me to listen, but only barely. Reluctantly—the godstone fighting me—I left with my favorite Rune-Caster. However, I saw Asteria watching me with a kind of sadness in her eyes. What was her problem?
I didn’t much care at that moment.
In the forge, Phoebe and I were alone when she removed my current necklace from my chest. I was wearing the Mind of Odysseus, an ancient amulet that gave me a +4 to Intelligence.
I created a housing unit in the back of your armor, Phoebe sent. She clicked it into place. Thanks to my new Engineered-Armor, that was easy. This next part, though, is probably going to be harder. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, looking into the game options, and I think I can swing it. But, uh, it might get a little messy. Possibly painful. And you’ll have to trust me on this.
Worry roiled in the pit of my stomach, but I nodded in agreement.
She settled a new silver necklace onto my chest—the pendant on the front was a gold casing that almost looked like a giant pocket watch. She opened the face and, with tiny tools, adjusted the cogs and gears inside. I call this the Necklace of Asclepius, she said, tools still whizzing as she worked. He was a minor god of healing, and I’m hoping this will help fix your busted-ass personality disorder. Are you ready?
“Verily,” I replied, the word strangely right on my tongue.
Ugh, verily he says. Okay, Jacob, we need to access the gaming system. There is a setting for Rune-Casters. An optional setting. This is custom work. A total hack, and you’ll have to allow me access.
Phoebe turned and held up the orb while I accessed my gaming display. It was so nice that I didn’t need the helmet anymore. During our first battle with Praxidike, that had nearly been our undoing. The Fury had grabbed the helmet, and I hadn’t been able to work with my Amazons or use any of my god-level abilities. Now, Praxidike was gone. Beheaded. Good.
I went to the custom screens, saw Phoebe’s custom code, and clicked on it.
The Necklace of Asclepius flashed, as did the godstone.
; Now, you’re going to have pump the necklace full of your Divine Essence. Phoebe directed. Give it everything you got.
A prompt to transfer my Divine Essence Points into the necklace appeared before me. Since I could regenerate the stuff so fast, I would still be fully stocked before the next battle. This was nothing. Not for the god of war. I transferred most of my Divine Essence into the necklace with a smug thought and the barest effort of will. The second I was done, the pain hit me like a sledgehammer to the back of the skull—it was exactly like when Ares had tried to give me all the power at once. Squeezing my eyes shut, I fought against the screams in my throat. I doubled over and promptly dropped to the ground, pulling my knees in against my chest as the pain raged like wildfire.
YOU DARE THWART ME? Ares’ voice filled my head. I AM THE ESSENCE OF A GOD. YOU ARE NOTHING. NOTHING! A MORTAL PLAYING AT BEING SOMETHING MORE.
The pain was so intense, blinding even. It was as though my brain were being flayed by heat and sound and light. It hurt so much that I felt certain it would break something inside me. But no. I wasn’t going out like this, and I wasn’t going to be a puppet—some meatsuit—for Ares. I pushed back against the demanding voice. Struggled against the hurt. I wouldn’t break. Refused to. I gritted my teeth. Three words, assbag, I sent. Suck. A. Dick. The pain continued unabated for what felt like a lifetime, but the voice booming inside my head faded, receded—at least for now.
A lifetime later, I opened my eyes, the agony gone. For the first time in a long time, I felt like myself again. More or less.
“Damn, Phoebe, I nearly lost it,” I groaned, sitting up, leaning back on my elbows. “How long was I down for?”
She quirked her head quizzically at me. Uh. Like ten seconds maybe? You just started screaming, curled into the fetal position, then sat right up. A total trip, for sure. Why do you ask?
I almost laughed, then waved away my question with one hand. “Doesn’t matter. So, if I lose the necklace, will Ares take over?” I asked.
Well, it’s not necessarily Ares, right? He died. But his gemstone has a lot of his personality still in it. It’s like you’ll become a hybrid. So, yeah, we keep the necklace on you, and that should keep the other half at bay. We’ll have to charge it up every now and again, though. Lightning Lance should do the trick.
In the gaming display, I saw that the necklace was at 100%, so I could keep track of its charge. I groaned. “Okay, yeah, I need a little nappy poo before I fight.”
There he is. Ares wouldn’t have called it a nappy poo. Welcome back, Jacob. She leaned over and caressed my hair. I like Jacob, not Ares.
I thought about my relationship with Myrina. Could we be together now that I was back to my senses? Or would that be a mistake?
The godstone hissed in my head—its voice oddly muted—wondering why I wouldn’t want to bang my Battle Warden general. But thanks to the necklace, I could see it for what it was: a lusty, battle-crazed maniac out for personal glory.
“It’s good to be back.” I took Phoebe’s hand in mine as she helped me up. The clockwork mechanism I’d seen inside the necklace had given me an idea. “Hey, Phoebe, could you make clockwork Amazons? I mean, full-sized ones that could walk. I wouldn’t need them to fight, only to be able to stand upright and move about a bit.”
A smile lit up her face. For when we strike at the Temple of Hades? So Necro Earl’s spies will see our normal city and not get suspicious. Yeah, boss man, I can totally give you some fake Amazons.
Damn, she was quick—those extra points to Intelligence were paying off in spades. “Cool. I’m thinking this is it. We take our entire force down through the labyrinth, and we hit the Temple of Hades with everything we have. Persephone can lead us there. She made that leg of the trek after she swam the Lethe, so she should have all those memories intact.”
I didn’t have the blind confidence I’d had before. Now I had some doubts about my plan. However, if Earl did discover that we’d left the city to clockwork Amazons and attacked, Sophia could always teleport me back in seconds. Armed with the Crystal Scythe and my new Smite ability, I could defend the Temple of Ares from just about anything if push really came to shove.
Phoebe’s eyes widened. Wow, holy shit, I don’t think the necklace is working. Going all in on a suicide run is a total Ares move.
“It’s me,” I said. “But, as crazy as it sounds, I think it will work. I hope it will.”
Phoebe smiled, rolled her eyes, and kissed me again. You trusted me not to fry your brain, so I guess I can trust you not to get us all murdered horribly. Let’s do it, dude.
After a quick break so I could get some of my Divine Essence back, we got to work. As a level twenty-six war god, I could finally use Aceso’s Blessing to inscribe a sigil of power on the weapons and armor my warriors used, granting a +5 bonus to any attribute. I spent an hour or so doing that, then switched over to help Phoebe with the clockwork women. Because of her massive genius as Chief Rune-Caster, Phoebe had managed to get a prototype up and working. In an hour. True, the mechanical Amazons couldn’t do much more than shuffle around on clanking metal feet, but from a distance, no one would know they were fakes. At least I hoped not.
With a little help from Brontia and Steropia—Phoebe’s junior Rune-Casters—and a bathtub worth of high-caffeine Mountain Dew, we finished twenty-five of the steampunk androids before the ten o’clock battle.
And speaking of the ten o’clock battle ... It came and went without a hitch. Seriously, it was a piece of cake.
The same old cast of characters turned up to play: gun-toting meatheads with demon-faced imps riding their shoulders. Snake-tailed nagas. Hag-faced harpies. Werewolves decked out in chainmail. Blah, blah, blah. They didn’t stand a chance. We held the walls. Persephone showed up, decked out in Warden armor ... except her battle streak had died away, replaced by occasional bouts of terror and joy. She clapped her hands for our small victories and squeezed her eyes shut when things got tense. I’m glad to say she did far more clapping than wincing.
For the most part, we let our new Beastiamancers and Battle Wardens level up by massacring the hordes of enemies that broke upon our gates.
I played the game like I had before: moving troops, healing wounds, and casting miracles from a distance. Raining down lightning bolts here, dropping biblical plagues on the unwary there. It was fun, though not particularly challenging, which—after the escapade on the beach—was actually a nice change of pace. When things got a little too hot and heavy for our newb ’Zons, Myrina, Asteria, Loxo, and Sophia would get up close and personal. Still, though, we didn’t lose a single Amazon. Not a one. Through the entire battle, the godstone goaded me to use the Smite ability, but I ignored it. I’d be able to do some smiting soon enough.
All of us got close to leveling, and I was dying to get more Ability Points to unlock the full capabilities of the ballistae.
Other than some experience points added to the pile, the only real thing the battle accomplished was convincing me that it was time to make our move. Sure, Earl Necro Earl might’ve had a damn near unlimited supply of troops, but mine were stronger than his. Quality over quantity. Chances were, if I played it safe, Earl’s forces would never breach the city. At least not until Hades finally broke free. But playing it safe was also a surefire way to lose in the long run—at least, that’s what my gut-level instinct screamed. And despite Ares’ meddling with my head, I believed it.
We were going to launch our first offensive maneuver.
We were going to zip through the labyrinth—through other worlds, according to Persephone—and come up inside the Temple of Hades itself. Then? Then, I’d use the Crystal Scythe to chop Necro Earl and his BFF Antiope into chum, and I’d turn the Temple of Hades into a fucking kill zone. Booby traps. Gatling guns. Amazon-manned fighting positions and pillboxes. Ballistic missiles and napalm, if I could swing it. That way if Hades escaped before I could seal the rift, he’d be walking right into a death trap.
I only hoped that usi
ng the Crystal Scythe wouldn’t destroy the dampening necklace that Phoebe had built for me. I wanted a clear head when we finally won. Otherwise, who knew what the Ares part of me would do?
We left Lycastia City at eleven o’clock under the cover of darkness, with seven hours to go before the next attack. I had an even hundred Amazons of various classes and levels tagging along for the journey; the remaining fifteen, including a fresh-faced Rune-Caster, would stay behind with our simulacrum soldiers, keeping the lights lit in the city, making the rounds, ensuring the clockwork soldiers didn’t accidentally topple off the walls.
Once again, Hippolyta would stay behind with our skeleton crew. She’d be the commander at arms and would carry the Shield of Perseus, which was worth its weight in gold. That thing had saved our asses more than once, and with it in hand, Hippolyta could take care of hundreds of enemies, turning them to stone in an instant. It was a once-a-day item, so it wasn’t a fix-all if things went sideways, but it would buy her enough time to alert us if there was a surprise attack. We’d left the city in good hands, and now it was time to bring the fight to Earl and Hades.
Phoebe drove her steampunk mech while Brontia and Steropia piloted our two Death Harvesters, steam-powered tractors we’d created to harvest our crops. We’d modified the farming vehicles and added twin Gatling guns. Each vehicle pulled a long train of trailers, loaded down with supplies, as well as the ballistae we’d taken from the walls. As Phoebe had said, we were going all in for this attack. We were ready for anything. Most of my Amazons had new weapons—now super-charged with Aceso’s Blessing—and the vast majority were toting high-octane potions, brewed up by Hesperia and Aresthusa.
Those potions were an extra dose of awesome for when the going got rough.
Turning, I gave a final glance at the walls. They were full of Phoebe’s clockwork Amazons in cloaks and helmets, holding spears. I couldn’t help but grin. From a distance, it was an awfully convincing illusion.
Not twenty minutes later, we found a hidden fissure in the northern mountain and started our descent. The Crystal Scythe lay heavy on my back. Using her Engineered-Armor skill, Phoebe had crafted a special housing for the weapon that fit over the War Mammoth Cloak. The housing allowed me to clip and unclip the scythe any time I wanted it. Additionally, I had the Mirror of True Reflection tucked away in my bag, and the Sower’s Glass riding my left arm. The War Blade swung from its scabbard at my side.