Sorin’s slaying of Ares was justifiable in many ways, but the consequences of the former deity’s death were far reaching. He’d gone to great lengths in becoming the lynchpin of humanity’s defences against the evils; his fall led to a collapse of the united military and a reversal of the favorable trends at the border.

  Humanity was losing ground at a rapid pace. The demigods who’d been sitting out the conflict, either through selfishness or intimidation, were forced out in the open. Flesh-Sanctification elites took charge, making the awakening and rise of new heroes all but inevitable.

  Stephan was one such individual. Sorin tracked the Beast Shift Warrior through his spiritual senses and marvelled at how quickly the man adapted.

  Violence fused with the man’s own brand of Hubris as the battlefield gradually awoke it. Already, a new, infinitesimally small speck of energy was being generated inside the man similar to what had happened to Lorimer.

  Like humanity, corruption itself was evolving.

  Yet for all the changes occurring on the battlefield, the individuals Sorin feared most failed to make an appearance. None of the four Heralds that remained dared show their mysterious faces. Was the demise of Azrakul at Sorin’s hands or the fall of the Heralds of Death and Disease at Michael’s hand that cowed them? It was impossible to know for certain, and equally impossible to discount them from any future plans.

  In that same vein, Sorin was also impossible to discount by Olympia’s major forces. His spiritual senses were constantly being peppered communication requests from various interested parties, including, to his surprise, mythical factions. The Grand Elder’s frantic probing was of particular interest to Sorin, who now possessed at least nine tenths of the truth he’d been seeking.

  Sorin opted to let these interested parties stew over the recent changes in Olympia’s power structure and focused instead on his next activity. Said activity required cooperating with two individuals who seemed keen on causing him problems.

  Space shifted almost as soon as Sorin reached out. Michael, Charles, and Celine stepped through the void. These three God Seeds were all who remained of humanity’s God Seeds—Gabriella excluded. Thus far, they’d acted in concert to amass the glory, reputation, and faith.

  “They say hard times create strong men—women—but the saying really fails do to you all justice,” said Sorin, noting that each of the three had broken past a hundred percent sanctification to become demigods. Michael had benefited greatly from slaying the heralds of Death and Disease and had even reached the upper stages of demigodhood.

  “Maybe we should skip the formalities,” said Michael, his hand poisoned to retrieve an arrow. “Is it a fight you’re after? You’re done with the Wise One and Benjamin, and now you’re out to complete the set?”

  “I very much doubt you would have come here if you thought these were my intentions,” Sorin replied. “And I’d prefer infecting you all form a distance instead of a direct confrontation.”

  “I sense nothing to disprove our assumptions,” Celine chimed in.

  “Who cares?” countered Charles. “He’s from the Kepler Clan, and therefore can’t be trusted. Let’s just kill him and be done with it.”

  Their words confirmed Sorin’s initial guess: Michael—or Appollo, as he’d once been known—was the only remaining God Seed aware of their true nature, of his true nature. Both Celine and Charles radiated auras of divinity as opposed to Hubris.

  As for Michael, his situation was interesting. “I thought you’d incorporate Death and Disease into your cultivation,” Sorin said to Michael as he finished his inspection of the man’s cultivation. “Instead, you’ve inverted their authority by burning them on your own altar. But will it be enough to break the shackles that held back even the gods of old?”

  “Whether it will be sufficient or not will be seen in short order,” answered Michael. “My only question is why you let it happen. Are paths are clearly in conflict. You were not required to kill the Heralds of Death and Disease, but you do require their potent corruption.”

  “You’ll never understand my motives, because from the beginning, power was never my goal,” said Sorin. “I’ve always fought for Truth, Freedom, and Vengeance. That aside, we both know that a premature conflict between us would have resulted in Ares fishing in troubled waters.”

  “True,” said Michael, turning to face the same direction as Sorin. “Are you sure you want to do this? Even without Ratten, the Hyde Clan is not to be underestimated.”

  “I’m reluctant to tangle with them,” Sorin admitted. “Especially given my antagonistic relationship with the remaining Heralds. Unfortunately, they forced my hands by wronging someone precious to me.”

  Michael nodded. “We can help, but we have conditions.”

  “Do tell,” said Sorin.

  “I wish to personally kill Cerberus and Sharn,” said Michael.

  “Acceptable,” said Sorin. “Anything else?”

  “Charles will claim the Underworld Scepter, piss on, then destroy it,” continued Michael

  Sorin nodded. “You came up short slaying Death and Disease and wish to kill the Boatman and the Guardian. Both are sealed entities with God Seed tier strength aligned with Death. As for Charles, all he wants is to spite the underworld that chased his clan away. The scepter is a prime target, as it’s the only reason most of their powerful members can awaken portions of their past memories.

  “But what about Celine? What does she get out of this?”

  “The Underworld once claimed an important part of the Moon’s authority,” answered Celine. “Slaying of these powerful entities and the destruction of the scepter will both benefit my quest.”

  “Got it,” said Sorin. “All three of you are hoping to use this raid as a springboard to become deities. But looking at the memories I’ve pillaged, you should know that the odds of success are slim for either of you.” Except for Apollo. His ascension was all but guaranteed.

  “We all have much to gain from this mission,” said Michael. “And while Asclepius and the Underworld never saw eye to eye, your behavior has confirmed that you do not have standard missions and aligned quests like most God Seeds do.

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  “Thus far, your actions point towards unleashing human potential and eradicating the malignant tumors of humanity. It’s why you killed the meddlesome Wise One and the warmonger Benjamin playing both sides. The Hyde Clan might be the scum of the earth, but in the end, they’ve benefited humanity more than harmed it via their partial administration of the Underworld and by restraining Death.”

  Sorin shook his head. “You’re all looking too much into individual actions. My motivations this time are purely selfish.” Seeing that he’d need to give them something as a justification, he tossed a vial to Michael.

  Michael frowned as he inspected it with his abnormally strong senses. “I sense a faint aura of Persephone on this vial. Wait—are you saying Gabriella Michka is in there? She wouldn’t go willingly, given how much trouble she went through to escape them in the first place...”

  “My goal this time isn’t to slay anyone, Ratten Hyde excluded, of course,” said Sorin. “I will assist you all in breaking through the Hyde Clan’s defences and neutralize any forces that attack me—nothing more.”

  Michael glanced over to Celine, who nodded. “Good enough. Just know that our actions will provoke an intense response from the non-human factions in Olympia. The Underworld is a fearsome and unknown entity, and it’s only thanks to their threat that the Myths have held back.”

  “This will be their last change to curtail human development,” nodded Sorin in agreement. “When the time comes, I will naturally help.”

  “Since it’s settled, let’s begin,” said Michael. “Charles, the stage is yours.”

  A signal from Michael prompted Charles to begin chanting. Thousands of formation plates flew out of his robes to surround the shrouded complex that housed the Underworld clans of Pandora. Armies from Michael’s faction arrived on the scene as Charles’s spell formation grew to an alarming size.

  Sorin wondered how such a thing was possible, but soon discovered the answer: each formation disc glowed with a vengeful and malevolent light. Each disc contained one or more trapped souls of fallen Hargrave Clansmen, including the fell karma and vengeful will they’d accumulated in their lifetime.

  “Sorin, are you just going to keep lazing around or are you going to help?” spat Charles as he struggled to control the spell circle.

  “Coming,” said Sorin. “Don’t resist as I make these modifications.” He cut his hand to produce a trickle of tarnished gold blood that leaked into the formation and infected it. The poisons within the spell realigned to produce a counter to the Underworld’s protective formation and death-aligned entities in general. “It’s done.”

  “Finally,” said Charles, grinning from ear to ear. “Eat shit, Ratten!” The spell circle pulsed as tear-drop-shaped spell form dripped out of it radiating power reaching the peak of demigodhood. The formation disks shattered as they poured the last of their energy into the tear, which then pierced into a complex shield wrought of the souls of the damned and deathly miasma.

  Reality buckled as the independent space surrounding the Hyde Clan was breached. Flesh-Sanctification cultivators poured into the opening and carved a path through puppetized corpses. The powerhouses of Olympia pushed hard and fast to create an opening for the God Seeds to enter.

  Sorin felt the realm destabilize as the four of them breached the broken but stable shield. Death was thick in air, limiting the extent of their respective Authorities.

  “You dare barge into the young master’s home while he’s away on business?” came an old voice as they looked around the surprisingly deserted residential complex. A hooded figure floated over on a small boat that could at most fit six humans. Beneath it was the River Styx.

  “I think everyone here is well aware that Ratten will not be returning, Sharn,” said Michael, stepping forward. “He has more important things to take care of on Mount Olympus.”

  The old boatman smiled at that. “Whether or not the master returns isn’t relevant to the current situation. No matter where he is, and where he will be, this is still his home. A home we shall defend until the bitter end.”

  Corpse puppets came out of the woodwork. They emerged from the earth and burst out of the walls made from their bones.

  Spirits converged on Sharn’s location on his command. No matter their wishes, they could not resist the waters of the Pale River.

  At the same time, a small group of cultivators with unusually sharp auras stepped out of their dwellings. Like Sharn, Ratten, and Aaron, their auras bore heavy marks of sealing that restricted their power output.

  Sorin’s eyes narrowed as he confirmed that these seals did not originate from Lord Hope, nor did they originate from the seals limiting humanity’s ascension. Don’t tell me… was it the titans who sealed them? All nine forms of corruption are fused into these chains.

  “The Lord has commanded that the manor be defended at all costs,” intoned the boatman. His words energized the dead and gave them purpose. “As we are defending our home, the agreement is null. All sealed inheritances may be used. Restrictions on the use of special soul types, conditions, and bloodlines are lifted.” A second layer of sealing, completely unrelated to the first, peeled away from Sharn’s vicinity.

  “You can’t win, Sharn,” said Michael. “You know what we came for. Give them up, and we’ll let the rest of the Underworld bloodline go.”

  “The Underworld is not a place that can be entered on a whim,” said Sharn, refusing. “Whelps like you four should have listened to your elders when they warned you against ever offending the Hyde Clan.”

  Sorin frowned as the deathly host approached, riding on waves of constricting miasmas that pushed back his own poisonous aura. He cocked head towards Michael. “I take it you have a contingency plan?”

  “Of course,” said Michael. “Celine, join me.” Apollo procured a golden sphere and tossed it into the air. Celine did the same with a silver sphere. The two spheres transformed into a scorching sun and a pale moon. “None can escape the cosmic truth of Sun and Moon. Be purified!”

  The nearest corpse puppets disintegrated as the projection of the River Styx was forced back. The Sun and Moon forced themselves into the dead sky above the manor, adding an element of purifying time to the deathly constellations of dying stars.

  Life and Death entered a state of flux, destabilizing the Underworld’s puppets. This was the opening Michael’s forces needed. Celine led the charge, and the undead buckled under their advance.

  “Charles, find Cerberus,” commanded Michael as he nocked an arrow of concentrated sunlight and shot it at the boatman. The boatman proved more skillful than expected, however, and used the River Styx to block off Charles as he simultaneously blocked the arrow with his oar.

  This complex maneuver drew all of Sharn’s attention, creating a large opening that Sorin immediately took. He infused corruption into his surroundings, simultaneously weakening the enemy’s forces and adding elements of instigation. Friction was introduced into their formation as the few conflicts in the Underworld Clans were exacerbated.

  Simultaneously, Sorin worked his magic on the corpses. Instead of plaguing them with even more death, he used Disease to infect and revitalize their mummified tissues. Simultaneously, he tugged on the karmic strings of their past lives. Though faint, they existed, and their entanglements brought further chaos into the enemy formation.

  All this to say that he used these openings to create a hole in their formation that he stepped through using Dance of the Tail Biter. “I’ll head in first and let you all know if I find what you’re looking for,” lied Sorin, following Gabriella’s karmic thread. His first priority was his former student, but he wasn’t about to empower potential enemies for no reason.

  “Sorin, we had a deal!” yelled Michael as he pelted the resilient boatman with one arrow after another. “Celine, cut him off!”

  The God Seed of the moon pushed forward but failed to gain significant ground as Sorin tugged on key karmic threads, shifting the battlefield.

  “We’re cooperating to take down the Hyde Clan,” answered Sorin as he made his way towards the center of the residential complex. “Excluding our agreement with the Underworld Scepter and Cerberus, nothing else was agreed to.”

  Even then, Sorin might not fulfill his end of the bargain if not practical. Something about Apollo’s plan rubbed him the wrong way. He had a feeling that much suffering would await him should the ancient deity get what he was after.

  Before long, Sorin found himself in a graveyard filled with tombstones. Gabriella’s karmic thread led Sorin to a massive tombstone at the center of the graveyard. Both the name and the dates on the tombstone were worn off.

  Sorin mobilized the physical strength of a demigod as he pushed the tombstone forward, revealing a stone staircase spiralling downwards into the earth.

  From that staircase, Sorin sensed two familiar auras: that of the Gate of Life and Death he’d allegedly destroyed, along with a lingering trace of Lightning and Dominion.

  Ratten and Aaron had taken advantage of Death’s departure to enter the most feared location on Pandora.