We walked gingerly through a minefield of what Achilles called War Scarabs, armored insects each the size of a human head. While disguised, we could walk through the hazardous ground by weaving in between each War Scarab, but I had no idea how we were going to get the whole army through. The insects chittered and shifted as we stepped around them and I was glad now that our disguises stunk so bad if it meant that we wouldn’t have to deal with an entire swarm.
Once we passed them, I felt a great deal of relief that was cut abruptly short by shouting ahead. We had been spotted by things that couldn’t be fooled by some stolen clothing and flesh. Three winged harpies flew up into the sky, messengers to alert other guard stations.
“I need two more spears.” Achilles said, as he hefted his own Ghostforged weapon and threw it at superhuman speed, nailing one of the flying monsters in the head.
I transformed mine from a bracelet to a spear, grimacing at the feelings of agony I sensed from them and handed it to Achilles who promptly launched it at the second of the three.
One of our compatriots followed suit with the transformation and the King of Heroes brought the third creature down to the stony ground of the Underworld’s surface.
I summoned my weapon back to me, the thrown spear collapsing from a solid state into streamers of glowing mist that streaked back to my waiting hand and reformed into a Keenblade’s shape.
Our welcoming committee was coming to greet us, Squirming Horrors, followed by Fleshless, and trailing behind them all were Shattermen.
“Hammers.” Achilles said calmly. “Big ones with long handles. Don’t let the Squirming Horrors get closer than eight feet of you or you’ll be in range of their tentacles and it’s over. Bat them away as far as possible so they lose track of what they’re meant to attack, don’t try to crush them against the ground. Won’t do anything meaningful.”
The seven of us followed his example, making ten-foot-long poles with comically large hammerheads. Six of the Squirming Horrors, disgusting things that looked like bundles of octopus tentacles made of mucus, came bounding through the air towards us, bouncing against the stone like rubber balls.
I thwacked one away and Achilles swiftly dealt with three of the Horrors while the other six collectively sent the rest flying.
“What’s next?” I asked, panting as we ran towards the next of our enemies.
“The rest of you deal with the dozen Fleshless, I will get rid of the Shattermen.” He said.
When the Fleshless, seven-foot-tall humanoids composed entirely of twisted and compacted bone, reached us, Achilles sprinted forward in a blur and then leapt over them entirely. Their skeletal helms twisted in surprise as he ignored them entirely.
I transformed my exaggerated hammer into a spear and rushed the men of yellowed bone, stabbing it into one and get shards and splinters of the material to chip off. Albas Heraklion joined me, rolling under the reach of the Fleshless I had engaged to use a Ghostforged axe against its right knee. I kept up the pressure for my part, more distracting the strange variant of Infernal Beast than really injuring it, but that gave my cousin time to keep hacking away at its limb. The bone man’s leg went out under it, breaking off at the knee, but I was immediately attacked by two more of the skeletal Fleshless warriors.
Most of our battles so far, we had always had the advantage of numbers and surprise. We were meant to be assassins not soldiers, as Achilles had said, which was why I wasn’t terribly shocked when one of the two superhumanly strong and fast Infernal Beasts I was fighting punched my face in so hard that my front teeth and fragments of my jawbone were sent out the back of my head like shotgun spray going through plywood. I could feel my undead body repairing itself but not before the second of the two Fleshless I was fighting kicked my sternum in and sent me flying twenty feet back. It jumped and landed after a smooth arc through the air to brutally smash down on my chest. My ribcage utterly imploded like a collapsing building, and I was given remarkably painful insight onto why Achilles said we couldn’t win this rebellion without him.
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Just as it was about to pound on my face with its bony boot, a Ghostforged spear pierced the back of its helm and its whole body shuddered. An instant later, the King of Heroes bodychecked it from the back, grabbed it and hurled it to the ground, and then proceeded to wrench his spear out of the Beast’s head and stab it over and over again. At a certain point, I wasn’t sure if he was doing it to wear out its regeneration or just because he was enjoying the violent expression of rage.
I decided I was fine with either and, with my ribcage and jaw mostly reconstituted, got up and joined him. There was a visceral satisfaction in making a Ghostforged hammer and bringing it down on the chest of something that had just stomped in mine. It was harder to cut up the Fleshless than it was to do the same to the animal men guards watching over the obsidian walls of Asphodel, but in truth it was less about making mincemeat of them as much as it was slowly draining whatever spiritual resource powered their healing factor.
“Let’s help the others.” The King of Heroes ordered after our opponent stopped its twitching death throes.
“Get rid of the Shattermen?” I asked.
He snorted. “What do you think?”
I looked far ahead to see that the warriors made of glass shards were now glittering dust spread in wide arcs and sprays on the ground.
The other six of our group weren’t doing so hot other than Albas who was working on beheading the one from earlier, but with Achilles’s help we ran through them in short work.
We went on our marching for another week, moving unceasing without sleep or rest, until we came upon marble walls that were the perfect inverse of the wall surrounding the Fields of Asphodel save for the fact that my being able to see the curve of the wall meaning that the enclosed area was far smaller.
“Elysium…” Albas said in wonder.
The others looked in admiration but when I looked at Achilles there was only anger on his face, a fury that he concealed the moment he noticed me watching him.
“Are we climbing in? There aren’t even guard towers.” Haveras, one of our advance party, said.
The King of Heroes shook his noble head. “This isn’t a nut we’ll crack with force.”
“What are we doing then?” I asked.
“We’re going to have one of you pose as a new entry to Elysium,” Achilles said but with how he was only looking at me I put together that by ‘one of you’ he meant me. “Once inside, you’re going to blend in, map the place and locate the stores of Ambrosia and Nectar as well as the armories. Finally, when I come back for you with the whole army, you will open the gates of Elysium for us. Betrayal from within. It was the favored tactic of a man I knew in life.”
“Alright then.” I said, gathering myself and stripping off my disguise. I squared myself and starting walking towards the gates.
“Adrias!” Albas said.
“Yes?” I said, wondering for a moment if he was going to wish me luck.
“Your Ghostforged weapon, idiot. You can’t have that on you or you’ll have to explain it.” Albas said.
“Right.” I said, tossing it in the form of a ball of mist and light to him. Albas, Achilles and the others sprinted away from the site of the opening to my destination, hugging the wall and getting as far as possible.
I walked the path to the golden gates and stared up at it.
“Hello? I’m here to be admitted.” I said, but there was no response.
Left with nothing else to do, I hammered at the golden doors with my fist until my hand bled. Finally, it opened with shining light pouring out. I clenched my eyes shut against the blazing radiance.
“Calm down, calm down.” A gruff male voice said. “We weren’t expecting someone today.”
“Judges must have lost my paperwork.” I said.
“Lazy bureaucrats.” The man muttered, my vision settling just enough to see the outline of his body.
“Gods above, you smell terrible.” He said. I could see him clearly now, a man with brown eyes and golden hair.
“A harpy shit on me on my way here.” I said drily.
“Well, baths exist for a reason.” He muttered.
“I’m Adrias Heraklion, Governor of Apollo system and grandson of Augustas Heraclides.” I said, trying to sell my credentials, reaching out a hand for him to shake.
He wrinkled his nose at my filthy hands.
“Perhaps after you wash those.” He said. “I am Callidas Aezion.”