CHAPTER 106: ACHLYS AND ALASTOR

Alastor tilted his head to look at her, a mechanical ticking accompanying the gesture like a clock.

"Achlys... it is... interesting to see... you here... I had thought... you had given up... on this silly... war effort..."

Charon grimaced with his words. They were sharp and hard to listen to, but carried a vague charisma. It was like he was listening to a man he knew was lying, yet couldn’t stop for some reason.

’He is dangerous, incredibly dangerous. I feel like if he spoke to me long enough, I might begin to believe him.’

She didn’t react to his words physically, but her response carried nothing but venom.

"You have misunderstood my passivity for surrender. I had hoped you would have ended your unjustified conquests, yet here you continue to march, focused on claiming all of the realm. Father will be displeased."

Alastor chuckled, the sound low and robotic.

"Father... cares little... for our doings, surely... you... know this..."

That finally earned a reaction from Achlys, her lips tightening.

"Leave this place, end your war here, and let the rest of the realm lick its wounds. We both know you are pushing the boundaries of our freedom. Short-sightedness is what led to us being banished here in the first place."

’They were sent here as a punishment? Why would Death do that? I thought the gods had complete control of their domains, and their demi-gods should belong to that.’

It was something that went against what Charon knew, but he was also aware that he knew very little.

’I’ll need to ask the others, they should know.’

The creature seemed to dislike her words, a viscous snarl leaving his lips as he turned to the side and began to pace, his grotesquely long legs slamming against the ground with every step, the onyx grass bouncing.

"Betrayal is... what led... us here!"

The statement was powerful and dramatic, punctuated with a gasping inhale like nails on a chalkboard.

"I... did everything... for them... and they... cast me out... They... let father blame... me... for what they... did..."

Achlys’ gaze softened, her glaive lowering a fraction of an inch.

"I know, brother, but you were not faultless. Nor was I. I accept responsibility for my actions, as should you. Continuing along this path will only worsen your state of affairs."

She extended her smooth, pale hand. Trimmed fingernails extended from his fingers, shining like diamonds.

"It is not too late."

Alastor grew stiff, his core beginning to hum as he seemed to consider her offer. He raised his bony hand and studied it. The milky texture of his skeleton faded as cracks appeared, copper wires and tubes mixing to create an undead monster, a mutilation of both man and machine.

Achlys watched him with patience, only daring to comment when she saw his uncertainty.

"You are not a monster, Alastor. You are one of us, a demi-god of Death. We each have our purpose, you included. Return to us, embrace your family, and your pain shall end."

Her words seemed to ignite something inside him.

His head snapped back to his soldiers, a flash of red shooting from his lens as they suddenly powered down. Their cores went dark and their bodies limp, purple guns barely held to their chests.

It looked as if a single push could send them all toppling.

The dark sky began to take on a more grayish hue than black, with some pockets of light peeking through the cracks.

He looked to the ground with shame as Achlys approached, Abel following closely behind as he watched the soldiers with wary eyes.

Charon looked on, his jaw slowly dropping.

’I can’t believe she is so willing to forgive him. He slaughtered thousands! Men, women, children! He didn’t spare anyone! There wasn’t even a reason except conquest and getting attention.’

His fists balled as he gritted his teeth, his opinion of Achlys plummeting as he scoffed at her naivety.

’Looks like even demi-gods aren’t always the smartest beings in the room.’

She reaffirmed his opinion as she continued.

"It is okay, brother. The pain will be no more. We can undo whatever harm you have done to yourself, I promise this."

She moved to embrace him, only stopped by his response.

"The only pain... I feel..."

He paused momentarily, the sky hardened into bleakness once more.

"Is the sting of betrayal that father and his children have brought upon me."

Alastor’s unnaturally fluid speaking was punctuated as a black spear materialized in his hands, the point streaking towards Abel.

It was too fast for Achlys to stop.

The weapon pierced his chest, shredding his heart and lungs into a fell swoop. The raw strength behind the strike was enough to blast through his back, sending blood and viscera flying.

Charon gasped, his breath catching.

Achlys responded in incredible rage, a torrent of mist jetting from her hands as her glaive swung forward.

With unexpected grace, Alastor ducked under the blow and came up on the other side, his own spear streaking towards her face.

What followed was something Charon had never seen before.

They moved at impossible speeds, their bodies blurring as the intensity of their match increased. Before Abel’s corpse had even hit the ground, it was both kicked and stabbed again, causing it to explode in all directions.

Despite their close proximity, none of the mess landed on the fighters; their fight was uninterrupted.

The only time it was possible to make things out was when they clashed, their weapons, hands, and feet all meeting at once to create a shockwave that sent chunks of dirt flying.

’It’s like an unstoppable force met an immovable object, and the world is going to pay the price!’

Once their clash began, Alastor’s army powered on once more, their mechanical forms taking a few retreating steps to remain at a safe distance.

Charon expected them to get involved, but they didn’t, choosing to stay silent observers. Their stoic faces didn’t react no matter what they saw, as if they knew the outcome from the beginning.

Compared to them, Charon was clueless.

’I can’t even tell who is doing what! One moment, I see the flutter of a cloak, the next a figure using the mist as a portal!’

That was the most memorable thing about their engagement: the powers.

Achlys used the mist as if it were an unlimited resource. It came in waves, flooding the valley and striking at Alastor from a thousand sides.

Spikes, hooks, and barbs were all common, like the hills were secretly a torturer.

Although they were numerous, Charon never saw them land a single blow, the monstrous demi-god untouchable as he flowed through various beastial forms to utilize his true weapon to devastating efficiency; his tools.

Despite fighting with a spear, the items that hung from wires around his fingers became the most deadly thing in the fight. Outwardly innocuous, they did something completely unexpected.

They summoned beams of energy.

At first, Charon assumed that it was simply the result of their powerful strikes, but over time, it became more apparent that they were one-sided.

Each tool created a unique beam that would shoot across the valley to attack Achlys, curving to hit her directly. They were identifiable by color, with every color doing something different.

But what made them more deadly was when they mixed.

They would create new weapons mid-air. Swords, arrows, axes, and all manner of items were formed from mana to join Alastor in his relentless onslaught.

He might’ve been coming out unscathed, but Achlys certainly was not.

The first sign was when things finally slowed, a well-placed foot slamming into her abdomen to send her flying back into the hillside.

A crater formed around her as she exhaled sharply, her free hand limply clutching the point of impact.

That was only the start.

Over the next ten minutes, she became more and more wounded. Cuts and scrapes appeared, her dress becoming little more than tattered remains by the time she finally collapsed, unable to fight on.

Only once that occurred did Alastor relent, his weapons vanishing into his cloak as he stood over her.

"It is... over... Achlys... You have lost... accept it..."

There was no response at first, Alastor rising as if to gloat in his victory, but then she spoke.

She sputtered something Charon couldn’t hear, yet the world somehow did. It shuddered, just like when she had said his name before, this time the effect more pronounced.

Alastor grew still, his response never coming.

Then, in an act that made Charon question everything he had seen, the demi-god turned and... left.

He simply walked away, his army following behind him.

Achlys then stood and vanished into an ocean of mist as if what had happened here today was nothing more than a dream.

Those mists then found Charon, the vision fading away for the final time, except for in his memories.

What he had seen was seared into his mind forever.