The hunt had reached its climax.
Brave Atalanta, princess of Arcadia, raised her silver bow under the pale moonlight. The hideous beast, a werewolf of monstrous size, glared at her with his pale red eyes. His black fur glistened with the blood of her slain companions and his fangs snapped at her with the strength to crush stones. Their corpses lay dispersed around them across the grassy battlefield alongside the remains of the monster’s pack.
Only the two of them remained.
But Atalanta did not waver. Her goddess was watching.
“This is the end!” she shouted to the moon and the stars, her bow surging with divine power. An arrow of light formed in her hand and illuminated the night. “For Arcadia!”
Her aim was true, her arm steady with determination.
But she felt her strength leave her the moment she let her arrow free. The light of her projectile dimmed through vile sorcery, its heavenly radiance diminished.
Her arrow bounced off the monster’s fur.
The werewolf grabbed Atalanta by the leg before she knew how to react, then flung her around like a ragdoll. Her neck snapped against the ground, killing her instantly.
So died Atalanta, Arcadian Princess: smashed to death by a roaring werewolf, who soon howled his victory to the heavens.
All under the gods’ watchful gaze.
----------------------------------------
> Artemis has lost her last commander!
>
> Wepwawet wins the game!
Wepwawet “Wepy” Pesedjet, the wolf-faced god of canines, journeys, and reconnaissance, smirked in triumph.
His friend Artemis, the Greek goddess of the hunt, stared at the game board in disbelief; her last unit was savagely mauled by his brave werewolf champion. Their friend Ganesha, who had observed the entire battle, looked at Artemis in disbelief.
“Did… did you forget that Werewolves units can keep their true stats hidden until they enter battle?” Ganesha asked Artemis.
“No, I did not!” Artemis glared at the board with sharp eyes glowing like moonlight, her mind struggling to understand how Wepy snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. “How?! My Silver Bow raised Atalanta’s damage to twenty-four, twenty-nine with the Beastslayer bonus! You shouldn’t have had enough mana left to summon a werewolf with greater defenses!”
“True, I did not.” Wepy pointed at space adjacent to his dear Akhet, Hound of Ramesses. “Remember the Hidden Reinforcements Prophecy that I cast earlier? The one that lets me hide a unit from view until it enters battle or activates a Perk?”
A miniature appeared on the assigned spot; a small magician with a scepter of twisted wood and a wolf’s skull for a mask.
“A Shaman,” Artemis muttered to herself before facepalming in annoyance. “Ugh, of course you used a Shaman. I hate those.”
“His Perks let him negate your unit’s bonuses and invert them,” Wepy explained. “And as you well know, my unit came with the Counterattack package.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, you won this round.” Artemis pouted in her chair, her fingers scratching her long midnight hair in annoyance. Feathers fell off her silver moon diadem. “But I’m gonna trounce you next round!”
“I never agreed to a best-out-of-three contest!” Wepy replied with a chuckle. Artemis looked so cute when she was pissed off.
“What, are you afraid?” Artemis cracked her knuckles as if they were about to start a brawl, her eyes burning with a fierce competitive spirit. She just couldn’t take a loss. “You’re scared I’ll demolish you now that I won’t hold back?”
“Ah!” Wepwawet welcomed the challenge. “Bring it!”
The rest of the class around them were doing their own things while the two friends riled up each other. Watatsumi, Anansi and Sun Wukong were hard at work playing their own three-way B&C game. Wepwawet had no idea who was winning, but from the dragon roars shaking the walls, it wasn’t Watatsumi.
Pele, Ishtar, Axomamma, and Epona giggled about the latest divine fashion trend, while Hel lurked in the shadows by herself while typing on her godphone. Only their teacher, Miss Athena, hadn’t arrived yet; alongside the transfer student that would replace Coyote after he flubbed last year’s exams.
The class had to have twelve students, for it was a very special year: the moment when they would finally be allowed to watch over a newborn world without their parent pantheons holding their hands or looking over their shoulders.
“You’re too reliant on Artifacts, Arty,” Ganesha said, scratching his broken tusk with one hand and eating a croissant with the other. The white elephant-headed god of luck and wisdom always had a knack for post-game analysis, and for summoning pastries out of nowhere. “It makes you predictable.”
“I’ve added new Prophecies and Rituals!” Artemis protested as she reworked her deck for the next round. “Hunter’s Dream, Blood Hunt, even Apocalypse: The Everhunt!”
“But they’re all focused on increasing your champions’ stats or damaging my units,” Wepy replied. “Plus, your chosen theme is rather… predictable.”
“I’ll show you predictable…” Artemis muttered under her breath.
“How about you come to my place tonight?” Ganesha suggested. “I’m holding a party, we could do a deck-building session then.”
“Again?” Artemis asked in disbelief.
“There’s always a party or another at your place,” Wepwawet commented. “How does your pantheon even sleep?”
“Hey, don’t look at me like that!” Ganesha protested with an anxious look on his elephantine face. “It’s not my fault everybody wants a piece of me! When I turn down people’s invitations, they show up at my house anyway! I’ve almost no free time anymore!”
That was the tragedy of Ganesha. He was the remover of obstacles, so he had never learned how to set boundaries.
Wepy was about to suggest that he could simply tell people ‘no’ when the classroom’s door opened. Everyone immediately returned to their seats as Miss Athena entered in her full goddess regalia, her breastplate, spear, and shield gleaming with divine light, her crimson hair flowing under her golden helmet. Though hardly a century older than her half-sister Artemis, Miss Athena had skipped many grades to become Mytholo High’s youngest teacher. Her loyal owl familiar and the class’ mascot Hooty remained perched on her shoulder.
Horus walked into the room right after her.
Wepy’s heart skipped a beat upon recognizing his falcon-headed cousin, and the feeling was mutual. Horus’ piercing eyes of shining sunlight immediately glared at Wepwawet, the scared one of the left brighter than the other. The sheer mutual animosity in the air was palpable. Everyone in the class noticed it, though Miss Athena pretended not to.
“It is a pleasure to welcome you again, young gods of the House of Hope,” Athena greeted her students. “As you can see, a new classmate will now replace Coyote during this final year. I ask you all to give him a warm welcome.”
Wepy didn’t say a word. For a goddess of wisdom, Miss Athena could be very thick sometimes.
“Horus, would you kindly introduce yourself?” Athena asked.
The bird-headed stuck-up crossed his muscled arms and stared at the class as if he were better than all of them.
“My name is Horus Pesedjet, trueborn son of Isis and Osiris, heir to the throne of the Egyptian pantheon,” he said with aristocratic arrogance. “I like winning and dislike defeat. My hobbies are hitting the gym, amateur detective work, and falconry. And my dream…”
Horus focused on Wepwawet.
“My dream is to kill someone’s dad!”
“Oh, screw you!” Wepy replied angrily. “Come here, I’ll send you back to your nest you little–”
“Enough,” Miss Athena said, quietly but firmly. She stomped the ground with the butt of her spear and the class immediately went silent. “I understand your family’s… peculiar situation, but your animosity has no place within these walls.”
Horus and Wepy closed their mouths and stuck to glaring at each other.
Anansi raised three of his six arms, catching Miss Athena’s attention. “Yes, Anansi?”
“I thought we were only supposed to have one representative per pantheon per class, to avoid easy alliances?” Anansi asked, his eight eyes dividing their attention between Horus and Wepwawet with equal calculation. Wepy knew the spider-god was already scouting out the new competition. “Why make an exception this year?”
“Wepwawet and Horus can thank their fathers for that,” said Miss Athena with a sigh. From her exhausted tone, she must have vigorously argued against the transfer. “The Theology Board agreed to the transfer, since it is unlikely that these two will team up against everyone else. In fact, I strongly expect the opposite.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Wepy muttered under his breath. He and cousin Horus didn’t get along at all since he and his father Set feuded back on Earth.
Athena pointed Horus at Coyote’s unoccupied desk, which was conveniently on the opposite side of Wepwawet’s own.
“He’s so cool,” Wepy heard Pele mutter under her breath as Horus moved to his new seat, much to his annoyance.
Miss Athena waited a moment, then calmly addressed the class. “First of all, I would like to congratulate all of you young gods for making it to your final year here at Mytholo High. After so many decades, you are finally ready to manage a world of your own and graduate to independent deities.”
The entire class held their breaths as Miss Athena waved her spear and summoned the illusion of a planetary sphere: the image of a new world with a single supermassive continent and a smaller island bathed in the glow of twin moons. The last feature immediately caught Artemis’ interest.
“This is Elphion, a new planet whose inhabitants have only recently discovered magic and entered its iron age,” Miss Athena explained. “Its people have no true gods of their own, and their world’s mana is unstable; making it easy prey for the Titans. As such, you will be deployed there alongside the Pantheon System.”
Wepy would be lying if he said he didn’t find the task daunting. Being deployed on a newborn world meant starting at the bottom of the divine power ladder, with none of his family’s resources nor enough followers to fuel his strongest Miracles; not to mention the danger of facing the titans’ forces without backup.
Nonetheless, he could hardly contain his excitement.
“So far, you have mostly experienced internships as part of your respective pantheons, where you enjoyed the guidance and protection of older deities,” Miss Athena stated. “From tomorrow on, you will be on your own. Each of you shall be entrusted with a young civilization to guide you on the path to progress.”
All these long years of learning how to shape mana to cast Miracles, how to mark mortal souls as champions, and how to lead mortals on the path to virtue would finally pay off.
“Our treaty with the Titanomachy movement means that the Titans will have to defeat you in B&C battles to invade the planet,” Miss Athena said gravely. “Your role will thus be to train mortal Champions and lead them to battle during these Incursions. Eventually, the planet’s mana will stabilize enough to produce a barrier capable of keeping the Titans at bay on its own.”
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Wepy would protect that world, and make his parents proud.
“Your Idols will represent your anchor to the material plane, and their destruction will result in both your banishment from the material plane and your failure; as will Elphion’s destruction, of course,” Miss Athena concluded. “Everyone who hasn’t been banished from Elphion by the time the barrier forms will graduate and receive a grade based on their performance. Your ability to lead your civilization will heavily influence what professional opportunities will await you beyond those doors.”
A polite way to say their parents and all the pantheons would judge the students’ results. Better performing students would receive invitations from powerful divine fraternities like the Storm Gods Alliance or Earth Mothers United, which meant better access to good Miracles, worlds with greater populations, or even allies. Those who performed poorly would be passed over.
Wepwawet exchanged a glare with Horus, which renewed his competitive spirit. No way he would allow that windshield-crapping bully to earn a better grade than him.
“To better align with Elphion’s mana and ensure that you all enjoy equal opportunities, each of you will begin at the lowest possible divinity rank and with a standard beginner Miracles deck,” Miss Athena warned them. “It will be up to you to harness better Miracles from your followers’ faith and deeds.”
Her answer drew groans from almost everyone, even though they had all been informed of this beforehand. A beginner’s deck only contained weak Miracles like creating food and mediocre weapons for their followers. A far cry from what Wepy could achieve as part of the Egyptian pantheon.
“And this concludes our initial presentation,” Miss Athena finished. “I will soon enact the ritual to manifest your first Idols to Elphion tomorrow, which will allow you to manifest there during class sessions. Are there any questions?” A sea of hands arose in response. “Yes, Epona?”
“Do we get to pick our civilization, Miss Athena?”
“No, it will be assigned at random and you will discover it on arrival,” Miss Athena replied calmly, much to everyone’s surprise. “In fact, none of you would know where your fellow classmates’ Idols are located nor which civilization they’ll lead.”
That took Wepwawet by surprise. Every piece of information he had received from fellow gods told him that students were allowed to pick their civilization. He knew Miss Athena often gave out unorthodox assignments, but this sounded highly unproductive.
“Wouldn’t it be best if we could form groups?” Wepy inquired. He, Ganesha, and Artemis were thick as thieves since childhood and could ensure their civilizations worked together.
“Which is the exact issue I wish to prevent. This setup should ensure that alliances and animosities are the result of geography and circumstances rather than personal preferences.” Miss Athena looked over each of her students. “Your future existence as creator gods will require you to work with whom you may not share affinities with, and to put your worshipers’ needs over your personal affinities.”
Artemis stifled a laugh and then began to whisper in Wepy’s ear. “Imagine if you and Horus end up as neighbors.”
“Oh my gods,” Wepy grumbled. The very thought immediately crushed his enthusiasm about the assignment. “That would suck.”
“It’s not so bad,” Ganesha whispered, albeit without too much sincerity. “If the roles are assigned at random, maybe we’ll end up near each other anyway?”
“We could conquer lands until we all border each other too,” Artemis suggested with a smile on her face. The thought of uniting the world in blood and friendship seemed to appeal to her. “We’ll hunt down the competition, expel them from the planet, and then carve up the prize between us.”
“I suggest we start with Horus’ place,” Wepy replied until a glance from Miss Athena silenced their whispering.
Miss Athena spent the day reviewing the rules and basics of managing a world. Besides the unusual random civilization setup, they were mostly what Wepy had prepared for decades for: the students would recruit and train Champions from the population, organize their followers to harness their faith into Miracles, set up Altars on mana loci to spread their influence, and defend their world from the inevitable titan Incursion in the form of B&C battles. Being forced to start with beginner Miracles was a loss, but they would at least retain their unique Providence ability; news which caused Wepy to rejoice. He should be able to use his own special power to secure an early lead.
He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
----------------------------------------
Dinner in Wepwawet’s household always started the same way: in awkward silence.
Of all of the godly realms that formed the Nexus of all reality, few matched the size of Duat, realm of the Egyptian pantheon. Located along the banks of the divine river Iteru, the various gods’ compounds were usually surrounded by fertile lands inhabited by the reincarnated souls of their mortal followers. Set’s black pyramid was an exception to the rule, for the lord of the desert preferred to drill his Champions in the hostile sands he ruled over.
The storm god’s halls were a quiet place filled with sphinxes, undead, assassins, and soldiers whom he prized as his servants. A large landscape window stood on one side of the dining hall and gave its occupants direct access to the river, alongside a private beach; the other side’s wall housed the thousands of B&C trophies that Set accumulated during his legendary career. The storm god never failed to remind his son of his accomplishments.
Wepwawet faced his lettuce salad without touching it, while his father devoured his own with immense appetite. Sha-faced Set always ate dinner dressed for war, since he had the tough job of assisting Grandpa Ra against the titan Apep each night; the old sun god wasn’t the B&C player he used to be, and his archenemy never relented in his attempts to devour him. Set had never lost a match, though a few ties did result in the occasional eclipse.
His new wife Astarte, an Assyrian goddess he had married after divorcing Wepwawet’s mother, ate at her own pace on the other side of the table. She was a regal and radiant blue-eyed, raven-haired beauty, who had taken a liking to Egyptian gowns and jeweled serpents. In fact, she had come to love the culture so much that she changed her name from Anat after Set won her in a B&C battle with her ex-husband, Baal the Betrayer.
She was, quite literally, a trophy wife.
But Wepwawet liked her a lot. She had helped raise him after his parents’ divorce, so he considered her like a second mom of sorts.
“Eat your lettuce, my son,” Set ordered Wepwawet while eating his own mouthful of food. “It’s good for your health. I prepared it myself.”
“Can we eat something else for once?” Wepy asked his father. He was sick of salads and vegetables. “Like, I dunno, like ducks? Ducks taste nice.”
His father wouldn’t hear any of it. “Most gods lack the willpower for hardcore veganism! Resisting the appeal of meat will strengthen your mind, and lettuce improves a man’s virility! You must be strong to crush the seed of Osiris!”
Wepy prepared to complain when his godphone beeped in his pocket. A quick glance showed he had received a message from his stepmother from across the table.
> ASTARTE: Eat your salad, Wepwawet.
>
> ASTARTE: Your father feels insecure about his cooking.
And he had good reason to be. Even Aunt Neith knew how to operate a barbecue!
Wepwawet reluctantly started tasting his dish, though he continued to complain. “Brother Sobek always brings fish when he visits…”
“Wepwawet has a point,” Astarte said after finishing her own plate. “Tomorrow is your son’s first world assignment. We should celebrate the occasion with a special meal.”
“It’s because he’ll have his first assignment tomorrow that I want him healthy and on edge,” Set argued before pointing his fork at his son. “You don’t know the Titans like I do, son. The treaty we signed with them will force your opponents to abide by the rules of Board & Conquest during their Incursions, but they will do everything to stack the battles in their favor beforehand. They’ll try to kill your Champions and sabotage you from day one, day one!”
“I know, Dad, I’m the god of reconnaissance,” Wepy complained. “I was born prepared!”
“Then you’ll listen to your father,” Set advised his son. “The key to raising your Champions is to be quick to punish, hard to please, and emotionally distant almost all the time. They have to feel that they must never take your affection for granted, and that praise always comes with strings attached.”
“So I must raise them like you raised me, Dad?” Wepy asked sarcastically.
“Exactly! That’s how you forge a winner! My father raised me this way, and look at how far it got me!” Set waved a hand at his wall of trophies, as he always did once per dinner. “Co-founder of the Storm Gods Alliance, rubbing shoulders with Zeus and Shiva! Best man to the Allfather himself! CEO of the most prestigious Godly Military Company on this side of the multiverse! Undefeated B&C champion of the entire Egyptian pantheon!”
“Near-undefeated,” Astarte teased her husband.
“On a technicality!” Set protested. Wepy knew very well which B&C contest his stepmother referred to, which cost his father his chance to sit on the pantheon’s throne. “Worry not, my son. I’ve arranged a cram school program for you with the cream of the crop of B&C players. Between your superior lineage and their coaching, you will crush my bastard nephew, earn better grades than him, and become Grandpa Ra’s new heir!”
“Wait, is that what it is all about?” Wepy asked in disbelief. “Is that why you had cousin Horus transferred to my class?”
“Set, again with this contest?” Astarte rolled her eyes. “I thought we were over this old dispute…”
“Never!” Set stomped the table with his fist, startling everyone. “I’d rather die than take orders from Osiris’ bastard!”
A tense silence settled on the hall, with Wepwawet and his stepmother exchanging awkward glances until Set calmed himself.
“Since the dawn of life, we of the Pesedjet clan have protected our corner of the multiverse from Titans, demons, and usurpers,” Set said. “Grandpa Ra’s health is declining, and it won’t be long before he has to step aside and let another take up the pantheon’s reins. Due to our last… legal settlement…” The very word seemed to cause him physical pain. “I have lost my chance and conceded the role of heir to my nephew.”
“I understand that, Father,” Wepy replied, having heard this story a thousand times already. “But what does it have to do with me?”
“Because if he’s not capable of leading one world to victory, how could your cousin protect the thousands under our jurisdiction?” Set didn’t wait for his son’s answer. “If you earn better grades and prove yourself the better god, Horus’ legitimacy will come into question and our house will finally recover its rightful place on the throne!”
“I, ugh…” Wepwawet suddenly felt a bit intimidated. He could almost feel the crushing weight of his father’s expectations. “I don’t think I have what it takes to replace Grandpa Ra…”
“Of course you have what it takes, you’re my son,” Set replied absentmindedly, which only worsened Wepy’s mood. “Anyway, back to the main issue: you’ll have to be very strict with your new subjects. If you’re too personal with them, they’ll forget what you are and you’ll grow soft. Always remember that they’re cannon fodder born to die fighting the Titans, and nothing more.”
Wepy clenched his jaw. Although Elphion would be his first world without his pantheon’s supervision, he did manage a cult on Earth and recruited his first Champions there. Wepy had always been very friendly with his worshipers, even summoning an avatar to lead them in battle against human invaders or sharing post-battle drinks with them.
Wepwawet understood Earth was a tutorial world long free of any Titan Incursions and where he enjoyed the protection, guidance, and resources of his pantheon… but he couldn’t bring himself to think of his Champions as expandable fodder like Father saw his own.
“Mom said we should treat our worshipers with respect and kindness,” Wepwawet muttered under his breath.
“Your mother?!” Set’s crimson eyes blazed with anger. “What could your mother teach you?! How to betray a man and crush his heart within her cold dead hands?! If so, then she’s indeed an expert!”
“Psychological warfare is a valuable skill in Board & Conquest,” Astarte said lightly, before moving to soothe her husband’s wounded ego. “I am certain Wepwawet will make the right decisions to lead his followers.”
“I swear on Ra’s ship, if his mother’s coddling costs us the throne, I will–” Set was about to go on a tirade when a familiar war horn’s call echoed outside, interrupting their dinner.
The Mesektet, the great solar barque of Grandpa Ra—he was technically Wepy’s great-great-grandfather, but everybody called him Grandpa Ra anyway—had come to pick Set up. The colossal golden ship, so large that it would take a human a full day to walk from the bow to the stern, gracefully glided upon the Iteru river thanks to the work of the hundreds of thousands of mortal Champions rowing the oars. Grandpa Ra rested on a great jeweled dais in its center, his sleep heralding the coming night and an imminent titan attack; an offensive which Wepwawet’s father would have to repel.
“I will be back tomorrow to assess your first day’s performance, my son,” Set said imperiously as he grabbed his eight precious Miracle decks and walked out of the hall to board the ship. “Come back with better grades than your cousin, or not at all.”
Wepwawet sank in his chair as the Mesektet departed with his father at the helm. He knew that Set always followed through with his threats. If his son didn’t return home with good grades…
Astarte quickly noticed his unease and gave him a wink. “I will go get the duck I kept in the oven.”
“Oh, thank you!” Wepwawet replied in immense relief. He immediately pushed back the salad. “I can’t take his food anymore!”
“I blame Shiva,” Astarte complained. “Your father has become obsessed with his diet since the Lord of Yogis introduced him to veganism.”
Wepwawet had to admit that the wolf in him felt a lot better after tasting a duck’s leg rather than salad. His father’s words did haunt him enough to lessen his appetite though, which his stepmother noticed.
“Do not take what your father said to heart either,” Astarte advised him. “You know him. He was born grumpy.”
“But he said–”
“Your father says many things in the evening that he forgets by morning,” his stepmother replied with a chuckle. “Try your best tomorrow and don’t lose sleep over it. I’m sure you’ll do great.”
Wepwawet knew she was only trying to cheer him up, but he couldn’t take his father’s words lightly. He’d been obsessed with ruling the Egyptian pantheon since the debacle with Horus all those centuries ago. If Wepy lagged behind his cousin, there would be consequences.
“Besides, his strategy is suboptimal to raise Champions,” Astarte said. “Trust me: the best way to psyche up your followers is to shower them with love. They’ll be so afraid of disappointing you that they’ll fight to the death in your name. Be the father you never had with them.”
“That’s, uh…” Wepwawet shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Isn’t that a bit manipulative?”
“That is how mortals feel appreciated,” Astarte insisted. “Most of them live hollow and miserable lives. They need to feel that someone upstairs cares for them. You can’t fathom how many people would die for a compliment.”
Wepwawet kept his mouth shut. Was he willing to die to earn a compliment from Father? He didn’t think so—he wasn’t that desperate for affection—but his dad’s opinion did matter to him, and he had no wish to disappoint him.
Wepy guessed he would see how to treat Elphion’s inhabitants once he actually arrived there. According to Miss Athena, it was a newborn world that had barely entered its iron age and was home to multiple intelligent species. Nothing unusual.
How hard could it be to be a god there?
----------------------------------------
> At the beginning, there was only the Nexus; the wellspring of creation. From its light arose the first worlds and the countless gods that would oversee them.
>
> The peace of the heavens only lasted a fortnight, for the souls and prayers of mortals are the heavens’ currency. The Gods of Order waged a great war with the Titans of Chaos; one that devastated the very cosmos which both sides hoped to rule over.
>
> When the war threatened to undo the multiverse itself, the warring pantheons at last agreed to a truce. Their leaders of both factions gathered and hashed out a solution: divine conflicts would no longer be settled with direct violence.
>
> Instead, the heavens’ greatest minds elaborated a game of prestige and profound tactical complexity; a game of skill and luck, as enjoyable as it was fair. Civilizations would become their pieces, and worlds their boards.
>
> They called this game…
>
>
> BOARD & CONQUEST.