A rumble of thunder and a sea of lightning greeted Sorin and company they entered Olympia and bypassed the inner city. Large bolts thicker than Sorin’s thighs wrapped around their group like dragons, threatening to devour them if they did not turn back, but a single sentence stopped them in their tracks.
“Buzz off, you overgrown lizards,” growled Grand Elder Hargrave. “As a demigod of Olympia, I’m authorized to bypass the lightning gate.”
The lightning dragons hovered around their group uncertainly before pointing towards Sorin and his companions, who were currently flying in a protective bubble crafted by Grand Elder Hargrave.
“Oh them?” said Grand Elder Hargrave. “Consider them my personal luggage.” The dragons squirmed in protest and tried to dig through the shield, but no matter how hard they tried, they were unable to enter.
“Tax evasion is considered a serious crime, you know,” came a voice. A tall man with spiked gray hair and a white and gold suit stepped up. Though he was not a demigod like Grand Elder Hargrave, his aura was not lacking in comparison. What’s more, the lightning swarming around them welcomed him like a long-lost relative, making it clear that if he wanted to overpower them, there was nothing that could be done.
“Bah, you and I both know you won’t be stopping us, Ray,” said Grand Elder Hargrave.
The man raised a lightning-shaped eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“Because you owe these kids, obviously,” said Grand Elder Hargrave. “Without their interference, Ratten would have obtained what he wanted.”
The older man called Ray chuckled. “I suppose you have a point. Though are you sure you want to waste their favor on something like this?”
Grand Elder Hargrave snorted. “This is just a bonus. A tip, as it were, for going above and beyond in their service to humanity.”
Ray Zeiss pondered a moment before turning around and flying past their group. “While I should technically take you all in, I’m on a priority scouting mission to intercept any incursions that might poke through any slits in space.”
“Glad to see you have your priorities straight,” said Grand Elder Hargrave. “I’ll be taking my charges home now. They’ll be settling their tax bill at a later date. It’s too bad—their encounter with Ratten forced them to sacrifice most of their treasures to escape with their lives.”
“When crossing fists with Ratten, survival is its own reward,” said Ray as he flew away. “It’s a good thing all those losses occurred while inside the rift. The Hyde Clan will be upset, but they have no one to blame but themselves.”
This was the first non-combat interaction Sorin had ever had with his estranged grandfather. His initial impression of the man was as follows: shameless, spiteful, and crooked.
Their descent into Olympia was a slow, tedious process, largely due the spatial rifts dotting the capital’s airspace. Peak elders and demigods from various factions flitted around the city to close these temporary anomalies, but were often too late to stop various life forms from sneaking through.
“What a mess,” said Grand Elder Hargrave, shaking his head. “All caused because by the greed of a single clan over a single corpse. We spent centuries rooting out Agents, and now it’s all gone down the drain.
“Can’t we just track them down one after another?” asked Sorin.
It was Gareth who answered the question. “Myths and Agents sent to Olympia have ways of cloaking their presence that even the Night Hawks have trouble dealing with. We’ll likely catch half of the interlopers, but by the time we’re done, the other half will have adopted their new disguises.”
“It won’t be long before chaos rears its ugly head,” confirmed Grand Elder Hargrave. “Conflict will be the name of the game, and the clans and organizations will start squabbling for benefits and try to knock their competition down a peg.
“Sabotage, subterfuge, and even deals with the enemy’s agents. Nothing will be off the table, and it will only get worse once the Agents start corrupting even the best of intentions.”
Sorin caught a whiff of corruption from a nearby rift, but it vanished before he could point it out. “It makes me wonder if the deal with the Ouroboros was just a diversion.”
“Unlikely,” said Grand Elder Hargrave, shaking his head. “A deity is a powerful ally to secure. Likely, the incursion is just a consolation prize.”
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“According to the White Tower Group’s senior partners, Strife’s plans rarely target a single objective,” chimed in Daphne.
“The evils undoubtedly thought this all through before making a move,” agreed Grand Elder Hargrave. “Otherwise, the composition of enemy myths in the dungeon would have been very different.”
A separate group approached them a few minutes later to ask questions about their recent trip and how they tied into the ongoing mess. Grand Elder Hargrave had no qualms about using his demigod status to shirk further investigations and dodge their questions until they arrived at Spider Manor.
The questioners were unable to follow them inside the Hargrave Clan’s headquarters. A few inquiries were made at the gates, but Grand Elder Hargrave ordered the manor’s staff to stonewall them with extreme prejudice. Meanwhile, servants poured in with potions while clan healers forced their way to their sides and checked on their vitals, their spiritual functions, and of course, their corruption levels.
“It appears that these lucky adventurers suffered no permanent damage,” reported an elderly physician to Grand Elder Hargrave. “That said, their exposure to the void has resulted in undesirable chaotic energies building up in their systems. I recommend they receive purification treatment as soon as possible.”
“Even an idiot would be able to come to this diagnosis,” snapped Grand Elder Hargrave. “Not to mention that two of them are three-star physicians from the Kepler Clan. God Seeds, no less.”
“I…”
“Stop embarrassing yourself and get the hell out of here,” said Grand Elder Hargrave. “I tolerated all the fussing because it was well-intentioned but trust me when I say that I everything handled, and will accept no words to the contrary.”
The physician gulped. “There’s also the matter of your health…”
“Later,” glared Grand Elder Hargrave. “That is a discussion we’ll be holding in private.”
“Of course,” said the physician, bowing. “I’ll be visiting your chamber shortly.”
“Come in an hour,” said Grand Elder Hargrave. “I need some time to settle these brats.” He then looked to Sorin and company, who were looking about warily. Spider Manor had quite the reputation, and the spider motifs and pictures of agonizing victims gracing the walls did noting to improve their preconceptions.
“What, is this place too good for you?” asked Grand Elder Hargrave with a mocking smile. “You avoided this place your whole life, and now you want to get out as soon as possible?”
“Not at all, Grand Elder Hargrave,” replied Sorin. “And I’d like to thank you on behalf of my entire party. Without your timely intervention, we would likely have been lost in the void. Or worse, consumed by the Ouroboros’s violent energies.”
Violent fluctuations rolled off Grand Elder Hargrave, nearly bringing Sorin’s companions to his knees. “What did you call me?”
“Grand Elder—”
The pressure intensified, forcing Sorin to bite down his words and change his form of address. “G-Grandfather,” he managed to say. “Please, I don’t think my friends can take any more than this.”
The pressure abated, and Grand Elder Hargrave smiled widely. “Welcome home, Grandson. It’s good that you’ve finally chosen to pay your mother’s old home a visit.”
Sorin looked to his companions, who were just picking themselves up off the floor, then mustered the courage to make a request. “Would it perhaps be possible to see my companions to their homes? We can continue this discussion in private?”
Grand Elder Hargrave was a wildcard. Even the best of critics described the old man as unstable and the worst of the demigods currently active. Then there were actual records of him decimating entire human outposts over perceived slights with very little substantiating evidence.
The Grand Elder’s lips thinned when he heard Sorin’s words. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sorin. You’ve heard the rumors, I’m sure; One does not simply waltz into the Hargrave Clan’s most hallowed halls and leave unchanged.” He clapped his hands, and in less than a second, a space-aligned mage blinked to his side.
“You called, Grand Elder?” asked the man. Sorin assessed the man’s mana fluctuations and concluded that he was a powerful mage, and could likely give Clan Leader Reeves a run for his money, assuming no clan protection artifacts were involved.”
“These individuals have seen too much,” said Grand Elder Hargrave. “You will isolate them for no less than 72 hours so they may reflect on their recent actions and their perceptions of the Hargrave Clan. I’m thinking the Dungeon of Tranquil Repose, unless you have other suggestions.”
“I understand,” said the man with a light bow. “Any differences in treatment?”
Grand Elder Hargrave’s eyes scanned their group, lingering on Daphne for a moment before settling on Sorin. “The Spell Punishment Chamber for the mage,” said the Grand Elder in a cold voice. “As for my unfilial grandson, who hasn’t deigned to visit home his entire life, I’ll personally take him to reflet in the Chamber of Strangling Webs.”
The old mage hesitate. “The Chamber of Strangling Webs? Is this appropriate? If it were any other location, the clan elders would likely be amenable, but you should know that a group is slated for… punishment in a few hours.”
The Grand Elder snorted. “He’s a descendent of mine, even if his mother married out. He might not cultivate our clan-specific art, but he should be able to pull through a few measly days in one piece.”
“Grandfather, I—”
“We’ll speak again after you’ve had time to reflect,” said the Grand Elder, cutting him off. “Oh, and if the White Tower Group, the York Clan, and the Night Hawks come looking to us for answers, tell them they’ll have to speak to me. Also inform them that I’m currently in a very bad mood and might need a few days to calm down.”
“As you command,” said the mage, bowing once again. “Off we go.”
Sorin blinked a found himself in a medium-sized room sitting in a pool filled with a viscous black liquid. He screamed as the liquid dug into his flesh. Acrid smoke filled the room as the Grand Elder lit up five torches located on the five points of the spell circle surrounding the pool.
“Strictly speaking, this is a punishment, but in pain, we find answers.” The Grand Elder’s cold voice cut through the pain-inflicted delirium and enabled Sorin to gather his willpower to resist the slithering black web working its way into his flesh. “Also, pain builds character. Remember the feeling next time you’re mulling over who you should visit next Wish-Fire Festival.”
Definitely not you, you madman! thought Sorin as he observed the changes taking place inside his body.