War God's Mantle- Underworld

by James Hunter

  Finally! the godstone’s voice thundered in my head, elated and triumphant.

  The skeleton with the shining circlet around his head leapt forward, swinging his weapons with the intent to carve me up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

  I struck first, using the Crystal Scythe and triggering my new Smite ability in the process.

  Holy shit, this was going to be good. The item’s stats popped up in my consciousness.

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  THE GEM IN MY CHEST was positively booming with laughter. The Necklace of Asclepius buzzed like a lost teenager’s cell phone on her prom night, but I ignored it, instead reveling in the sheer, delicious primal energy of the weapon in my hands. Around me, the air pulsated with power, and a droning sound filled the room. I targeted the incoming skeleton king and I Smote the motherfucker right and proper. The minute my scythe hit him in the chest that droning became a single, solid, apocalyptic boom!

  Time seemed to lurch and stop as a metric shit-ton of damage hit the steel-boned skeleton like a freight train.

  Let’s pause here for a little battle math. The base damage of the Crystal Scythe was 250 points plus another hundred for frost damage. The skeleton took an additional seventy-five points of fire damage on the chin—courtesy of Blazing Aura—then got a mean sucker punch by the frost damage when the scythe blade slammed into his bony ass. Fry ’em, then freeze ’em, that was our motto. And thanks to the Hecate’s Edge effect, I cut through the skeleton’s Defender ability like it was lime Jell-O, hold the marshmallows. Now, add in an extra three points to my Strength, which increased my base attack damage to a whopping 530.

  So, even before the Smiting began, I was doing 955 points of damage right out of the gate. To give some perspective, I had 1,135 Health points. So that one blow would’ve nearly killed me.

  Now, add in Smite and double—yes, double—that number. An attack like that would’ve cut me in half without missing a beat. The skeleton took 1,910 points of damage. He fared no better than I would have.

  Circlet boy disintegrated on impact. Poof, gone, as though I’d simply erased him from reality.

  The golden crown winked off and plunged into the water along with the pair of sickles the skeleton king had been holding a moment before. There was still some fighting to do, but instead of hooking and jabbing, I threw my head back and laughed like a maniac—the godstone laughed with me, drunk on the power I held.

  The bone gate behind me blasted inward, sending steampunk creepy-crawlies and bone fragments flying in a hail of shrapnel.

  The skeletons in the room, covered in steel and centipedes, exploded against the walls. Most had either been sliced by the War Blade, buzz-sawed by Phoebe, or Snow Clawed by Loxo, so those collapsed in a mess of cogs, bones, and filament.

  Because of the Crystal Scythe’s Leech Touch effect, I received five Divine Essence Points for every kill. That made me laugh even harder. I was stronger after the fight than I had been before.

  Any skeletons that had survived the Smite were knocked to their knees, where Myrina dispatched them quickly, cracking through insects and hacking through cogs at a truly impressive rate.

  Asteria chomped up the rest, spitting out a sword here or a buckler there.

  As my laughter finally subsided, I bent over and fished the circlet from the waters, curious about its capabilities. As I thought, it was a magical item, and not just any crown either. It had belonged to Apollo himself.

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  WAIT, WHAT DID THAT say? What was that first one? Increases the wearer’s level by one ...

  I read and reread the description in utter disbelief, then flicked off my helmet and placed the circlet on my head. I opened my character sheet and found I was now a level twenty-seven war god. I even had ten Attribute Points and an Ability Point to play with. This thing was unbelievable. A tasty little snack, indeed.

  The circlet had obviously animated the skeleton, and the creature had used its Ability Point to gain access to the Defender miracle. Clever, really. Just not clever enough to stop me.

  Myrina came over and tried to pluck the Crystal Scythe out of my hand. She let out a shriek and fell to a knee in the water.

  Her face wrinkled over. Her hair grayed until it was white. Her muscles atrophied before my eyes and her skin hung like curtains from her bony arms. She opened her mouth to reveal yellowed, chipped teeth.

  My heart died in my chest.

  I bent and touched her. The minute I did, her flesh thickened, the gold returned to her hair, and her face was unlined once more. She’d just touched the Crystal Scythe. What would happen if she held it for any length of time? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to find out. That was some fucked-up shit right there.

  Instead of being on the verge of tears at being crone-i-fied, she stood and pushed me. “We agreed, no more Crystal Scythe! What were you thinking!”

  My new necklace shook on my chest. The gears whirred, creating a high-pitched whine. The godstone flared, pulsed, heat washing along my arms and legs. I didn’t say what it wanted me to say, which was something like, Back off, bitch! You’ve been riding my ass since I landed on this godforsaken island.

  Instead, I gave her a grin. “It’s me, Jacob. Still me. Still okay. No harm, no foul.”

  Persephone reached down and pulled the two sickles out of the murk. She looked at them in wonder as tears tracked down her cheeks.

  I splashed through the water to get to her. “Persephone, what it is?”

  “These were my mother’s.” She choked back a sob. “If she lost them in the battle, she might have been killed. After all these centuries, I thought I’d steeled myself against the idea of her death. But I haven’t. Now I know I haven’t.”

  I took her in my arms to comfort her.

  Myrina let us have a minute and moved through the chamber to get to the portcullis blocking the other side. Those clockwork centipedes hadn’t been affected by my Smiting, and so they still held the bone gate closed.

  At least they did until Asteria turned into a blue pachycephalosaur—an ancient lizard as big as an elephant with a big, bony skull and a long tail—and went to town. She was basically a battering ram on two clawed feet. My Beastiamancer swept her tail into the Helios Chariot, knocking it over. She then backed up, lowered her bony head, and charged, smashing through the gate as though it were made of toothpicks and dental floss. Myrina speared the remaining centipedes as they tried to fix the damage caused by the blue dinosaur.

  Loxo also helped, freezing the bugs with Snow Claw.

  Phoebe held back, watching from her mech.

  Persephone continued to sob in my arms. Well, this was a new one. Never thought I’d be comforting Hades’ wife. “Persephone, we’ll figure out what happened to your mother,” I said. “This secret library was washed out, but the Olympian Library might have some information on what happened in the war. I mean, it’s possible she’s not dead at all. We just need to keep going if we want answers.”

  She only cried harder.

  After another few minutes, her quiet sobbing finally ceased and she pulled away, eyes red and puffy, streaks running down her cheeks.

  “Thank you, War God,” she said, swiping at her nose with the back of one hand. “All of this is just so much. The journey. The holes in my memory. Now this. It is just so very much to process.” She fell silent, her face changing subtly—jaw tightening, eyes growing hard with resolve. “This is Hades’ fault. All of it.” She nodded as though she had made some sort of decision. “I intend to make him pay for everything he’s done to me.” She held up one of the sickles, the blade glinting and shimmering with ancient power. “Everything.”

  “Out of curiosity,” I said, “any chance I can see one of those? Just to check out what’s under the hood.”

  “Of course, War God. Anything for you.” She offered them to me with a tight-lipped smile and a flutter of eyelashes.

  The minute I touched them, the gaming display showed me
their properties.

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  I READ THROUGH THE description twice, and for a long beat, I kinda wanted to play the finders-keepers card. Eight attacks with the weapons? And I could throw them? Damn. And with that Root Feet ability, I could turn my enemies into wheat and then mow them down. The weapons didn’t hold a candle to the Crystal Scythe, or even the War Blade for that matter, but they still had a helluva kick.

  “Is it okay if I keep them?” Persephone asked as I finished my inspection.

  “They’re your mother’s,” I replied, shrugging one shoulder. “There’s no way I could take them from you. To be honest, I can’t wait to see you shove them right up Hades’ ass. These are some sick sickles. Get it?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “No. I do not understand how a weapon can be ill, but yes, I too cannot wait for retribution against my loathsome husband.”

  Phoebe’s voice filled my head. Fun with idioms! Amaze your friends with your knowledge of American slang. Be the life of the party!

  I grinned at the Rune-Caster and rolled my eyes.

  The spring goddess sprouted vines around her waist, turning the magical foliage into customized holsters grown from tangles of vine and vibrant spring flowers. “This is bad business,” she noted idly as she slid the weapons home into their new sheaths. “Surely, Daedalus will know we are passing through his realm. We will not make it through Minos Omega without facing him.”

  I had to think for a minute. Daedalus had been a mortal, but he’d been a genius—think Elon Musk, Steve Jobs, and Nikola Tesla all rolled into one. His ideas and engineering had astounded the gods themselves, though his creations had caused far more harm than good nine times out of ten. The question was, what was he doing banging around down here? There had been a battle in the Bibliokryptikon, clearly, and Apollo had lost, but how exactly did the mad engineer fit into the picture?

  WITH THE LOOT MOSTLY collected, I dismissed Myrina so she could get the rest of the troops ready to roll out, then sent Asteria, Loxo, and Sophia on to run recon in the next passage. Persephone opted to go with them.

  There was still one item that needed to be dealt with, however.

  Phoebe splashed her mech around the Helios Chariot and the remains of the alpha skeleton I’d killed. I’m wondering if the circlet gave the skeleton life, she sent. I mean, it basically made him a level-one god. As for the others? Yeah, those were engineered, probably by Daedalus himself. The dude laid a nice little trap for us. And we took it hook, line, and sinker. But we survived, so I figure we should at least claim our prize. Using her mech, she carefully flipped the gaudy chariot upright. So, are you gonna give Apollo’s chariot a try or what, my dude?

  The answer to that was hell, yeah, squared. I shot her a wink and a finger gun, then climbed up into the driver’s seat, feeling the thrum of potent energy run up through my feet and vibrate inside my chest, resonating with the godstone. True, we might’ve been in the heart of some cursed lost world, but I couldn’t help but smile like a maniac. How many chances did a guy get to ride the chariot responsible for hauling the sun around? Time to take this puppy for a test drive.

  Don’t Drink the Water

  THE THRUM OF POWER grew in intensity, and suddenly the Helios Chariot lifted off the trash heap and floated above the water. The wheels spun lazily. The poles, hitches, and harnesses hadn’t been on the chariot, but as it hovered in the air, all that changed. The chariot bled golden light from the chassis as white smoke boiled out from the wheels; poles, tack, and reins of golden energy appeared an instant later. The mist leaking from the wheels swirled and ebbed, forming the shapes of two enormous, shadowy stallions. Their hooves, manes, tails, and eyes burst into sudden and violent flame.

  Some of the Amazons inside the tunnel let out a gasp of shock. Others laughed in wonder.

  A surge of adrenaline and excitement washed through me as I took up the reins, wrapping them around my fist.

  Wow! Talk about a chariot of fire! Phoebe sent.

  I couldn’t answer. I was too busy learning how to fly the chariot that at one point might have dragged the sun across the sky. I gave the reins an experimental flick. Part shadow, part flame, the horses took off running, but we didn’t have very much room. They yanked me and the chariot toward a wall. I braced myself for impact, but they simply rose and galloped up the wall, their smoky muscles and great hooves of fire working. I was pulled up with them, but they soon turned around and descended.

  I held on for dear life. At the turn, the chariot banged into a bookcase and tomes went falling into the gushing water. We raced around the room on the wall at a ninety-degree angle, perpendicular to the water. Gravity didn’t seem to quite work like it should with the chariot. The horses jumped over the waterfalls but pulled me right through the gushing water. I was already wet, so it wasn’t a big deal, but it was cold.

  Around we went until I shifted my weight and pulled up on the reins. The chariot bounced off a wall and abruptly I was parallel to the ground. I pulled up more and the horses stopped running entirely. I floated twenty feet in the air, as did they. I didn’t want to go careening down, but by pushing the reins toward my knees, I was able to levitate down. Raising the reins up above my shoulders took me, the chariot, and the fire ponies skyward. I was getting the hang of it.

  I floated down until I was near Phoebe. How do you think I, uh, turn them off? I asked.

  The Balrog horseys? Hmmmm. Maybe try wrapping the reins around the hook, she suggested.

  Shadow and flame. Funny. I took the reins and followed her suggestion, looping them around the hook jutting from the chariot’s frame. The minute I did, the smoke and fire faded away, leaving only the distant smell of a campfire and the stink of the two wet horses.

  With a little more practice, I saw that I could adjust the settings of the chariot so I didn’t need two horses but could get away with one. From the description, it seemed I could have as many as six.

  I pondered the ability to travel at the speed of light. Once per day. Okay, anyone want to take a trip around the solar system? Pretty cool, though I wasn’t going to be able to do the Holdo Maneuver, which was a little sad. But then, you couldn’t win them all. I could, however, blind my enemies or flash-fry their asses with the Helios Chariot. Add in my own weapons, miracles, and skills, and, well, I was feeling better and better about my chances of winning this little war. But maybe Ares had thought the same thing.

  Speaking of which, I checked the Necklace of Asclepius in my gaming display and saw that the charge was down to twenty-six percent. I reached up and grabbed it, hitting it with a few rounds of Lightning Lance. The Divine Essence left my cells, transferring into the necklace. In next to no time, it was back up to 100%.

  But the clock was ticking. We had to get going.

  Myrina came sloshing through from the other tunnel. “War God, we have found the entrance to the Submerged Labyrinth. We have a serious problem, though. Come and look.”

  I grinned. “Aren’t you going to comment on the fact that I’m riding in a floating chariot?”

  She gave me the oddest look. Then she steeled herself. Whatever it was down there, she was even more dour than usual.

  Phoebe laughed. “I will coordinate our troops and get them going again, Jacob,” she offered, her mech lurching into motion. She shot me a playful wink as she headed out of the chamber.

  I chose the one-horse option, and a single stallion appeared. I was able to sink us down until his flaming hooves floated just above the water. I reached back a hand. “Get on, Myrina.”

  She hesitated for only a heartbeat before accepting my hand and climbing into the chariot beside me. I gave the reins a flick and the horse broke into a slow trot, pulling us through the opening and down flooded steps to another room, this one square and smaller, only about fifty feet by fifty feet. The walls here didn’t have books but friezes of Theseus, the Minotaur, and a winged dude with shocking black hair, who had to be Icarus. The floor, once marble, was no
w just a waterlogged mess. Loxo and Persephone stood before a grand archway at the far side of the room. Carved into the top was a Greek inscription that didn’t exactly inspire confidence:

  Welcome to the Infinite Labyrinth. The Wise Will Turn Back. The Foolish Will Die.

  Even more unnerving was the fact that Loxo was sheet white and violently trembling, while the perpetually optimistic Asteria was curled up in a corner of the room, her legs tucked into her stomach.

  What in the fuck had they run in to?

  I banked the chariot around and came to a stop by Loxo and Persephone.

  The spring goddess frowned. “I forgot about the things ... in the water.”

  Again, her loss of memory seemed too convenient. Was she purposefully trying to slow us down?

  “Loxo?” I raised my eyebrows. “What’s going on?”

  She pointed to the entrance, sweat bright on her otherwise ashen face.

  “Fly your chariot into the passageway,” Myrina replied when Loxo didn’t immediately answer. “Then keep an eye on the water.”

  I snapped the reins, took off, and slowly, carefully, maneuvered the fire pony through the archway. An odd metal mesh separated the water in the staging room from the water in the labyrinth. The tunnel itself was ten feet wide—the walls crafted from huge blocks of black granite—and the ceiling above was at least ten feet up from the water line. I glanced down into the watery depths below the chariot. It was hard to tell exactly how deep the water was, but, at a guess, I’d say the water was probably ten feet deep as well. It didn’t take long before I spotted the sleek shapes slicing through the depths with preternatural speed and grace.

  There were fish down there. A lot of them.

  “Watch,” Myrina said as she took a bit of smoked spider pork out of a pouch and dropped it. Immediately, what I thought were fish raced upward and the water boiled as the things fought for the food. The fish had bronze teeth, rows and rows and rows of them. There seemed to be a million of the suckers, and, holy crap, they were mean. One was pushed out of the water by the others. It writhed, a foot long, the gears of its clockwork body whirling even as it gnashed all its metal teeth together.