by James Hunter
Myrina stood up, ignoring Phoebe. “I will gather weapons. Asteria, we are going to venture out to slay the arachnaswine so close to our gates. Jacob needs his little points.”
Phoebe went and gave Asteria a cloak to hide her nakedness—more for me than for anyone else. The shape-shifter approached the table. “The spider swine are a problem, sister, I agree. However, we might have a more serious threat. While flying, I spied a gateway to the Underworld near the north mountain. And I saw a word chiseled into the stone. Stheno.”
Myrina, who had been busily grabbing gear, stopped in her tracks. She turned pale. “Stheno? The mighty?”
“Even so,” Asteria said in a soft voice, tucking a strand of raven black hair behind her pointed ear.
Myrina let out a shaky breath. “If she is about, we must destroy her first, or all else will be for naught. If she were to reach Jacob, all of our efforts would be meaningless and the fight would be over. Hades would return to the world and devour it.”
I restlessly drummed my fingers against the tabletop, staring at the women, who were busy talking about me as though I weren’t in the room. “So, question. Can someone clue me in on who Stheno is?” I asked. “That name doesn’t ring a bell, and I’m pretty good with my Greek mythology.”
Phoebe’s voice permeated my thoughts. You know about the chick with the snake hair, yeah? Medusa?
Yeah, Clash of the Titans, awesome movie, sure. What about her?
Stheno is her sister. Medusa is dead, but her family is just as bad. Hard-hitters. Very powerful. If we don’t put her down, she can turn your army of kick-ass ladies into stone without a second look. You dig me?
“Oh, crap,” I said. “Stheno is a Gorgon.”
“Yes,” Myrina added, stealing an uncertain look at Phoebe and me. “And a rival in power to Medusa herself.”
“Jacob will be able to slay Stheno,” Asteria said happily, slipping over to me and tracing a bloody finger along my cheek. “I know he will,” she practically purred in my ear.
I was glad she was so confident. Personally, I couldn’t help but think I’d soon find myself cosplaying as a statue of myself. And without a comic con in sight.
TWELVE
War Blade
Phoebe decided to stay behind and head over to the forge to scrounge up the remaining materials left over from Ares’ reign. Once I had enough Essence Points, she’d start fashioning the Amazons and crafting weapons and gear. The new equipment wouldn’t be blessed with magic since I hadn’t unlocked any of the Path of the Builder Skill Tree options, but they’d be a helluva lot better than the stuff we had now.
This part of gaming was familiar: being a newb when the menus offered so many cool choices. The early levels of any game always sucked, but I was sure I’d get the points we needed. Eventually, I would reach the full power of Ares, and then I could upgrade gear to my heart’s content. And it wouldn’t just be the gear; I’d also be able to fix the city once we gathered some Thymos Crystals. I could fortify the walls, build new structures, even add fields and farms. But first, just like in any good game, I needed to do some serious grinding.
Which is exactly what we were going to be doing.
Myrina, Asteria, and I gathered up weapons and armor, then headed out, stopping at the fountain to fill our waterskins. The afternoon sun burned hot, slowly baking the island dirt as the stink of the verdant jungle drifted over the walls. I was already sweating buckets, so venturing out without water was an insane move. The rucksack on my back and the heavy armor I wore certainly didn’t help. I wasn’t so sure about playing dress up, but Myrina convinced me—or badgered me, rather—into putting on Ares’ old gear from inside the temple.
Like the helmet, it shrank to fit me.
I was decked out in a breastplate, greaves, bracers, and a skirt of the linen armor. I decided not to put on the crimson cloak—it was a million degrees, and a cloak seemed extremely unnecessary—so Phoebe agreed to put it in my room. I also refused to lace up the weird sandals, since my combat boots offered better protection and didn’t look goofy as hell. I had also opted to bring my K-Bar, pistol, and first aid kit—called an IFAK—just in case things went sideways.
Myrina was likewise dressed for battle in her Greco-Roman armor, her short sword at her hip, javelins on her back, and a spear in her hand. A circular shield covered her left forearm, and a helmet protected her head. A horsehair crest rose from the helm. I couldn’t stop looking at her.
“What do you find so interesting?” she asked as we trudged toward the south gate.
“Uh, there was this movie called 300, and you are dressed like the Spartans in the film. I was just having a moment.”
“You utter nonsense at every turn,” Myrina grumbled, speeding up her pace.
Though we were going to take care of Stheno the Gorgon, we needed to mop up the arachnaswine lingering at the gate first. Absently, I ran a hand over the pistol grip of my M1911, which had five shots left. I was hoping my firearm might impress Myrina, but that seemed unlikely. She was determined to loathe me.
I glanced right at Asteria and couldn’t help but smile.
She seemed like Myrina’s exact opposite. She smiled as we walked, eyes tracing over the clouds as she swung her arms without a care in the world. Looking at her, it seemed like she was going on a peaceful afternoon stroll instead of preparing to wipe out a lair of bloodthirsty, multi-legged monsters. And instead of heavy armor, she wore the ratty old cloak Phoebe had given her, leaving ample amounts of bare skin exposed. I looked away when she noticed my gaze.
Her carefree smile turned into a concerned frown. “Do you not like me, Jacob Merely? It is my appearance, isn’t it? My blue skin. You do not consider me beautiful, do you?”
I choked. “What? No, no, it’s not that at all,” I replied. “I do, Asteria. I totally like you. It’s just that …” I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck. “Well, where I’m from, women don’t walk around naked. I’m just not used to it.” I fell silent and shifted my sword, managing to burn my arm on my bronze breastplate in the process. Dammit, even though Ares’ armor was sick-looking, it was still heavy, awkward, and uncomfortable. And dealing with both a spear and a shield wasn’t as easy as it appeared in the movies.
I felt like I’d been lied to my whole life by every fantasy novel ever. Why didn’t anyone mention what a pain in the ass old-school armor and weapons were?
Ares’ sword was in the sheath at my belt. I was still too weak to unlock the weapon’s full potential, but the stat table teased me with how awesome I’d eventually become. On a whim, I pulled up the item in my inventory, if just to prevent myself from staring at Asteria’s swaying backside. The sword’s details popped up in front of me:
“So, women are never naked in modern times?” Asteria asked, pulling me away from my examination of the sword.
“No, they are, but it’s complicated,” I replied, dismissing the item screen, then exiting the interface. “Bottom line, I think you’re gorgeous, Asteria.”
In response, she shrugged the cloak off, and it puddled around her feet. “Then I will let you gaze upon my beauty,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at me. “But only for a moment. Myrina is very impatient to get our quest underway since it is late afternoon, though it will always be midnight in Stheno’s lair beneath the mountain.” True to her word, Asteria only stood nude for a minute before she turned into a massive blue-furred she-wolf and went racing off toward Myrina, a dizzy smile in her eyes and her tongue lolling from her great mouth.
I grabbed the cast-off cloak, folded it, and shoved it into my rucksack for when she reverted to her human form. I needed to stay focused, and Asteria wasn’t helping with that. There was something about her that I found irresistible. Oh yeah, her boobs. Though in the end, I couldn’t help but remember I’d created her. Yep, we’d have a strictly platonic relationship and save the world as creator and created. Friends, pals, buds, but nothing more. At least, that what I kept telling myself, though deep down, I knew be
tter.
I mean, she was uber hot, and she was into me—a super rare combination.
But for now, things needed to stay all business.
I joined Myrina and Asteria at the gate, and we made our way up the steps toward the spider pig lair.
We stopped at the top of the path, which snaked around the mountain, vanishing from view. From this vantage, I could see the thick gossamer webbing up ahead, though the sign of my passage from the day before was obvious: ripped strands hung down in sheets, swaying gently in a slight breeze. It was crazy to think that less than twenty-four hours ago, I’d been running for my life, pursued by harpies, spider pigs, and nagas, all intent on wiping me out. Just a day ago, I’d been First Lieutenant Jacob Merely, and now I was the fucking god of war. How badass was that?
Bending down, I slung my rucksack around and placed it on the cracked stone path. From inside, I fished out a bottle of oil Phoebe had given me and an emergency flare I had left over from the crash. “Okay, so I’m thinking Asteria turns into an eagle and flies over to the other side of the nest or lair or whatever the heck you call a bunch of spider pigs. She splashes oil on the webs and lights the flare. Unless those things are dumber than a box of rocks, the blaze should drive them toward Myrina and me. Then?” I shrugged. “Then we take them out as they come. No muss, no fuss.”
Myrina nodded, hand tightening over the grip of her sword in excited anticipation. “Flush out our quarry and drive them to us. Yes, I agree with your plan, Jacob Merely.”
Asteria shifted back into a human, and I showed her how to light the flare. She took to it quickly, nodding her understanding as I talked. A minute later, with bottle and flare in her talons, she was once again an eagle. She launched herself skyward, great wings generating huge gusts of wind as she soared up and over the webs, eventually drifting down and out of sight.
Go time.
I dropped my shield and spear and drew my pistol. Since I only had five rounds to my name, I intended to use two hands and make sure my shots counted. In action movies, heroes routinely fired one-handed while running, diving, rolling, or Chuck Norris roundhouse kicking an enemy in the face. But I knew from experience that was a good way not to hit anything. Ever. So, instead of being fancy, I’d focus on the fundamental principles of Marine Corps marksmanship: stance, grip, sight alignment, sight picture, trigger control, breathing, and follow through.
I’d use four bullets on the oinkers and save one for Stheno. The Gorgon might’ve been supernatural, but that didn’t mean she was bulletproof. Perhaps old-school weapons would fail against her, but a bullet to the brain would do the trick.
“What is that?” Myrina asked, nodding at my pistol.
“It’s a magic firestick I’m gonna use to kill our enemies from a distance.” I tried to sound ominous and a touch mysterious. “It’s a bit like a crossbow, only a thousand times better.”
Myrina just rolled her eyes, unimpressed.
The rank stink of the pigs drifted down from the jungle followed by the sounds of whirring legs and a chorus of inhuman chittering.
Then the shrieking started.
Black smoke boiled from the top of the hill as the webs ignited. More than a dozen of the enormous spider boars tore to the edge of their webs, rushing us like the incoming tide.
I adjusted my stance, breathed deeply—inhale, exhale, inhale—then squeezed the trigger of my M1911 on the second exhale. The gun kicked in my hand, the recoil traveling up my arm as the round erupted from the end of the barrel and hit a beefy female right between her clicking mandibles. Most of her head exploded as her body flipped over and she landed flat on her back, legs stiff, bulbous abdomen to the sky. More spiders screeched in rage and left the web, charging us en masse.
At a glance, I counted twelve of the massive arachnaswine, their tusks dripping poison, their legs tipped with barbs of spiny bone.
I relaxed, let the pistol come to a natural rest, and fired off two more rounds.
Two shots. Two kills. Two more corpses decorating the ground.
Meanwhile, Myrina flung a pair of javelins into an onrushing boar. It went down, pierced, gore oozing from the puncture wounds marring its body.
My fourth shot found a home inside a bloated belly, blowing off a couple of legs on the way in and a couple more on the way out. Not as clean as I would’ve liked, but not awful either. Unfortunately, that left me with a single round, which meant it was time to try my hand at the spear. I slammed the pistol into the holster at my hip, then picked up my unwieldy weapon and shield as Myrina readied hers.
Two monsters charged into us, only to meet their end on the tips of our spears. More of the creatures surged in behind them, though, batting our weapons aside. Myrina knew what was coming, so she was ready. Her sword flew free of its sheath in an eyeblink and she leapt onto a pig, cleaving the thing’s skull before springing into the air like an acrobat. Somehow, she landed gracefully on a swaying sow, driving her sword down. She left her blade quivering in the monster’s heart while she spun like a top, hurling a pair of javelins simultaneously.
Two more spider pigs toppled. Dead.
All of that happened, and I still hadn’t even drawn my sword. I was great with a sidearm, but apparently not so hot with archaic weaponry. It was a little ironic, really. I’d logged endless hours in games like Diablo and Skyrim, yet I’d never picked up a real sword. A boar rushed forward, springing up like the world’s ugliest jack-in-the-box. I jerked my shield up, and the tusks scraped against the leather and wood. I saved myself from being impaled, but I hadn’t counted on the force of the creature’s body weight.
The blow slammed my shield into my chest like a wrecking ball, and before I knew it, I was sprawled out on my back while a giant arachnoid continued to gore the crap out of my shield. I struggled to inch my way back, pushing with my heels against the rough ground, but a spiny leg caught my shin. Chitinous armor opened a deep gash in my skin, sending hot pain flashing from my leg up into my brain, blinding me. Though I didn’t have the interface pulled up, a flashing red bar appeared in the corner of my vision, kindly alerting me that I was about to be killed by a spider pig during my first fight as a war god.
As if I didn’t know that.
THIRTEEN
Miracles
I gritted my teeth, pulled my legs in, then mule kicked out with all my strength. My feet connected with doughy spider flesh, and suddenly the arachnaswine was flying backward. Holy shit, had I done that? But no. The spider kept right on going, up, up, up—carried away by a set of oversized eagle claws. Asteria flung the creature away with contemptuous ease, then promptly morphed into a bear, bigger than a Kodiak on steroids. From my increase in intelligence, I knew she was a level-ten, maxed-out Beastiamancer who could change shape at will.
Even in the heat of combat.
She really was something special.
Asteria lashed out with a paw the size of a car tire, using her wicked claws to remove the head of another spider pig as it lunged at her. The creature’s corpse went spinning into the trees as Asteria roared and stood over me. Scary didn’t even begin to cover her. She fought with fierce, wild, reckless abandon, swiping her paws left and right, ripping off legs, shredding through flesh and chitin, knocking the arachnaswine away.
I skittered backward through her legs and came up in a low crouch, finding my spear nearby. A moment later, though, one of the spider pigs got lucky. It feinted left, then bolted right, digging a huge tusk into Asteria’s side. The move cost the creature its life—the colossal bear decapitated the bug with one swipe of her claws—but the damage was already done. Asteria ripped the tusk from her gut, but then reeled drunkenly on unsteady feet before finally toppling onto her side. The whole ground rumbled as she landed, the nearby trees trembling in response.
Another spider pig—sensing weakness and an easy kill—scuttled on top of her, tusks raised to stick her again and add to the poison paralyzing her.
A javelin appeared, as if by magic, piercing the spi
der’s skull. It came special delivery from Myrina’s hand. The Battle Warden fought like mad, standing atop a pile of the spider pigs. Her quiver of javelins was nearly empty, her sword and sword arm dripped black ichor, and her shield was smashed almost to pieces—shards of wood hanging by withered lengths of leather. We still had five more spider pigs to go, two of which were closing in on Asteria’s inert form.
I accessed my gaming display and realized it had a combat mode.
Whoops. Probably should’ve been using that bad boy the whole time. First thing I saw, I had leveled up twice, which meant I’d earned myself twenty more Attribute Points, two more Ability Points, and five more Divine Essence Points—putting me at thirty-three total. Awesome news, but bad timing. Along the right-hand side of my vision, I saw the health and strength of my team, which was at this point only Myrina, Asteria, and Phoebe. Along the left-hand side was a list of combat abilities I could use—except they were all grayed out and locked.
I glanced at Asteria’s HP.
Shit, it was dropping by the second. The poison was killing her. And I had no idea how to help. I had my IFAK, sure, but QuikClot inside wasn’t going to work in this situation. No, no, no. This was a disaster. But then one of the combat options caught my eye: Healing Touch, in the Path of Miracles Tree. In a blind panic, I toggled over to the MANAGE ABILITIES screen and acted on instinct. I dropped one Ability Point into Lightning Lance out of sheer necessity, then added my second point to Healing Touch.
Two pop-ups immediately appeared in a flash of golden light:
I dismissed the interface with a blink.
In my combat display, both abilities flashed, turning from stone-gray to brilliant gold. Ready to go. Without a second thought, I rushed over to Asteria, dropped to one knee, and pressed my hand against her furry shoulder as I triggered Healing Touch. A third of my thirty-three Essence Points disappeared in a blink, leaving me feeling nauseous and slightly drunk as divine power exploded from my body, rushing into Asteria’s. I clambered to my feet, holding my hands out for balance, trying to fight off the wave of dizziness in my head.
