The Mausoleum shook—no, Sorin’s soul shook as threatened to break away from his body. Ratten’s bident let out an ancient, keening call that made it difficult to resist. Sorin’s companions were similarly affected, though on a completely different level. Lawrence was affected and seemed to be pondering how best to approach this deadly enemy.

Sorin scrambled to find a way to resist the bident’s call and was able to stall for a few seconds using Madness to distort his spirit. A flash of green cut off the lingering effects and pulled Sorin back into the waking world.

“Ah, so you decided to seek out your daughter’s murderer,” said Ratten nonchalantly. “How rebellious and expected of you, Persephone.”

“My name is currently Gabriella,” spat Gabriella. “And I would never call that twisted thing my daughter. That relationship ended many lifetimes ago.”

“Alas, death is not the end when it comes to certain obligations,” said Ratten. “Return home, Persephone. By my side. Where you belong.”

Gabriella snorted. “What will you do? Relegate my soul just like you tried doing to Sorin?”

Ratten shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Your abilities complicate the process, but in the end, you are a Godling. You cannot resist my call.”

Surprisingly, Gabriella smiled. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to reveal the extent of your powers, Ratten? I’m sure Aaron would love nothing more than an excuse to reinforce your seals.”

Ratten’s face darkened. “Perhaps leaving you alive for so long was a mistake. Well, no matter. What’s done is done, and you still have a role to play in all this.” He adjusted his tie and wiped a fresh layer of dust that had settled on his suit coat due to the temple’s shaking. “I suppose I should get going before that angry snake decides to make an example of me. But before that, a little fun. Let’s see how many of you can survive this.”

“We need to get out! Now!” screamed Benjamin Riss. A surge of information entered Sorin’s mind that mapped out the building and possible exits. The earth trembled and walls shattered. Nothing could prevent the massive body of the Ouroboros from rising now that its living aspect had recovered.

Red eyes appeared behind Ratten as the deity’s head emerged. A bloody hole could been seen on the creature’s skull, though the hole was quickly mending thanks to its overwhelming vitality. “Do you dare stick around an infuriated deity when you’ve stollen its most precious possession?” Gabriella asked Ratten.

“Indeed, I don’t,” answered Ratten. “That said, I hate to leave before driving home the message. Heed my words, Persephone. Kneel before your Lord.” Gabriella’s legs buckled as Ratten walked past her towards Sorin, who was still shivering from the effects of Ratten’s Soul Relegation.

“I thought… you couldn’t… relegate a soul not of Death’s lineage,” panted Sorin as Ratten approached.

Ratten’s eyes flashed with a cold light. “Haven’t you heard the saying? There are two inevitable things in life: death and taxes. All creatures are part of Death’s lineage, Sorin. The connection doesn’t lie at the origins but instead at the destination. It is an unavoidable weakness that even the Divine Clans cannot avoid.”

Ratten held up a finger than pointed down. A crushing weight settled onto Sorin and took away his breath.

“You… really… know how to bully people, don’t you?” said Sorin between ragged breaths. “Do you dare face me once I reach the peak of my strength?”

To his surprise, Ratten laughed and pulled his finger away. “Can a corrupted wretch like you even approach the might of your predecessor? This world is broken, and so is your path forward.

“That said, you entertain me, Sorin Abberjay Kepler. If you can survive the next ten seconds, I will allow you to live and enjoy another round of torment. With the River Styx as it is now, death is just a boring thing. Maybe that will change now that the remnant of the Furies has been eliminated? Alas, it will take a generation to determine the exact effects.

“Now receive my fist!” Ratten aimed a simple punch at Sorin’s chest. The physical force behind the attack exceeded anything Sorin had ever encountered. Thankfully, Violence took up the slack and empowered Sorin’s body just in time for him to receive the deadly fist.

Lacerations appeared on Sorin’s skin as his leather armor burst apart at the seams. His protective artifacts teetered on the brink of failure and his Wraith Snake Boots unravelled, leaving only rags to clothe Sorin’s miserable body.

Yet Sorin was unable to rest. Ratten’s fist struck out a second time. The attack contained a wave of spiritual energy that threatened to directly destroy Sorin’s soul.

Nemesis adopted its gauntlet form as Sorin filled his left hand with all five types of corruption and his right hand with all five types of poisons. He slapped his hands together to cause a small explosion that resisted Ratten’s attack but resulted in bits of golden shrapnel digging into Sorin’s body.

The force of the blow sent Sorin flying out of the breaking temple just in time to see the advanced dungeon ripping apart. Giant chunks of divine stone and land were sent flying into space as the Ouroboros wakened form its deep slumber.

By now, all remaining God Seeds and heroes has evacuated and were making their way back toward the outpost. Overhead, the demigods had scattered and were scrambling to enact defences to protect both the inner city and the adventurers exploring the advanced dungeon.

But Sorin ignored these people. He ignored Ratten as well. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the Ouroboros. Every movement of the divine serpent captured Sorin’s attention in a way Sorin couldn’t explain. It wasn’t through physical flight that the serpent moved, but through spatial displacement.

One minute, the serpent was submerged in soil. The next, he was flying several hundred feet of the ground and shaking off what remained of the crumbling Mausoleum.

“Do you think it wise to give in to distraction?” Ratten’s voice and Nemesis’s frantic warnings pulled Sorin’s attention back to the current moment. “This is the final attack, Sorin. Please don’t disappoint me.”

The Underworld Bident appeared above Sorin enlarged several fold and came crashing down toward Sorin with frightening momentum. Its movements were slow and ponderous, yet Sorin was unable to move away from its final position.

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Death, it turned out, was inevitable.

Hopelessness filled Sorin’s mind, but a mighty growl kindled a faint hope inside his failing heart. “Chilling Grip of the North Star!” A mighty bear, larger than Sorin had ever seen, appeared before the bident. A constellation glimmered in the blackness of space, pouring strength into Stephan’s frost-covered body and a torrent of silver energy into his claws and his armor.

Silver and frost clashed with darkness and death. The bident came out the clear winner, but its energies had dimmed ever so slightly.

“Arrow of Judgment!” came Gareth’s voice. An arrow loosed, and time stood still. Violent energies clashed with the death-infused bident, further weakening its descent.

“Phoenix Rising!” A bright red spell circle lit up around Sorin and manifested a bird of pure flame. Squinting, Sorin was able to make out over a thousand tiny fireballs, closely connected by thin threads of mana.

“Path to Life!” A ball of silver string tapped Sorin’s head, connecting his intuition to many possible ways forward. Sorin suddenly became aware of a tool he’d yet to use: the silver amulet gracing his neck.

I haven’t needed this thing to hide my tarnished nature for a while now, thought Sorin, grasping the fox-head medallion. It’s a demigod artifact. Maybe it has other functions?

“Give me… Hope.” Sorin yanked the medallion from his chest and tossed it up at the bident.

To Sorin’s surprise, his prayers were answered. White strings filled his field of vision, both entangling the spear and forging connections between Sorin and other entities.

For a moment, time stood still. The shadow of a chained fox flickered across the land. Knowledge slipped into Sorin’s mind, altering his perception of reality.

Sorin saw the web of fate shifting in real time, indicating that his request had been granted. The cost would be steep, but it was something Sorin could accept. All he needed was to accept a small parcel of information that would greatly enhance his current abilities.

As the restraints on local spacetime were loosened, Sorin familiarized himself with this newfound knowledge. Of course it’s always been about accepting corruption.

The parcel contained five distinct streams of information. Each stream pertained to a specific form of corruption and how to utilize it. It became increasingly obvious as Sorin read the information that corruption could be used to escape his current predicament.

“Beacon of Enmity.” Karma shifted upon hearing Sorin’s words. The tether joining the Ouroboros and Ratten Hyde were reinforced as Strife poured into it, brightening the shrouded connection to the point that the mysterious force shrouding Ratten Hyde could no longer obscure it.

The Ouroboros let out a roar of rage. Space froze as its fiery eyes settled on Ratten’s position. “I see you’re not afraid of a deity’s wrath,” said Ratten. “Is it really so wise to call attention to our current location?”

“You’re the one who started it,” said Sorin. “Sprouting the Seeds of Envy.” The descending bident hummed with displeasure and emitted a pulse of energy that threatened to rip the sky asunder. The sky did not break, and the earth did not rip, but a seal emerged around the bident, one of lightning white-hot fire that came crashing down on the mighty weapon, suppressing its strength.

The weapon was sentient, and it resented being bound. Sorin had recognized this fact the moment he’d read this piece of information. Who said that a weapon couldn’t feel Jealousy? The weapon’s outburst at the provocation had triggered its restrictive formations, thereby weakening the eventual blow heading Sorin’s way.

“Lend me your strength, Great Equalizer.” Violence flooded his muscles and his bones. His physiology overclocked in a way Sorin had never thought possible.

“Death is the end, but Madness is the Method.” The air shook as causality warped, causing the deathly energies of the bident to turn upon themselves.

“Hatred is the Great Multiplier.” Sorin hated the underworld. He hated that bident. He hated Ratten and he hated his clan and he hated everyone who had ever sought to harm him.

If Violence was a conduit for existing power, Hatred was an amplifier. It was an emotional catalyst that allowed someone to go beyond their physical limits by damaging their souls.

Sorin’s muscles and ligaments strained and destroyed themselves as they mobilized more strength than he was capable of safely handling. His spear twisted in his grip and tore through the air. A deafening crash resulted as the spear collided with the bident, barely managing to knock it back into the waiting hands of a surprised Ratten Hyde.

“Not just corruption,” muttered Ratten as he heaved the bident over his shoulder. “Five kinds in one body? Just what is that fox up to?” He looked up at the sky where lightning crackled. The battle for the advanced dungeon was over, and the demigods were closing in on their position.

More importantly, the Ouroboros had arrived. Its coiling body was somehow in all places at once. Wherever it flew, Life and Death overlapped, creating unstable spatial fissures that could rip apart any being below demigod.

“Are you done venting, Ratten?” came an aged voice. “Your ploy failed, and you have no one to blame but yourself. It’s time you leave, Ratten Hyde, and let us old men handle the fallout.”

“Old man Hargrave,” said Ratten, looking to Sorin’s side. A gray-haired man in mages robes had appeared beside Sorin and his teammates without their knowledge. “I thought you had it out for the Kepler Clan. Oh wait, that was just another one of your schemes. I take it you’re here to pick up your grandson?”

“Unless you’d like to fight it out,” said Grand Elder Hargrave in a solemn voice. “The Accords do not prevent me from slaying the inheritor of the Ratten Clan if it’s done in defence of myself and my kin.”

“Who wants to fight an old man with half a foot in the grave,” scoffed Ratten. “Better to take it slow and syphon what remains of your years one second at a time.”

Grand Elder Hargrave shrugged. “Suit yourself, Ratten. And be careful. Don’t think your antics have gone unnoticed.”

“I’m just performing my corpse-animating duties as per my clan’s agreement with the Pandoran Council,” said Ratten with a cheerful smile. “Unfortunately, I failed, no thanks to your rotten descendent. Expect a summons once things have calm down.”

“Summon all you like, you’re not fooling anyone,” said Grand Elder Hargrave. He then turned to Sorin, who’d just gotten to his feet after resisting the terrifying attack.

“Thank you for your help,” said Sorin, bowing to Grand Elder Hargrave, the grandfather he’d known he had but had never met in person.

“It’s small thing,” said Grand Elder Hargrave. “Though I’d have more respect for my grandson’s intelligence if he’d been smart enough to break his escape talisman.”

Sorin had very much wanted to leave the realm. Unfortunately, the Ouroboros’s divine realm had prevented its activation, and the current chaos in the crumbling advanced dungeon made it all but impossible to teleport.

Sorin hesitated. “Is Grand Elder Kepler…”

“He was off-duty and was recalled just now,” said Grand Elder Hargrave. “When it comes to combat prowess, he’s much better than a bag of old bones like me.” The demigod frowned as he watched the ongoing battle between the Ouroboros and Pandora’s demigods. “Stupid Hyde Clan. Stupid defences agreements. All they do is poke at old remnants and make off like bandits. Whenever there’s trouble, it’s us who are left to clean up the mess.” He sighed and shook his head. “It’s fortunate that you managed to break Strife’s karmic curse before it could properly set in. An enraged deity is troublesome but manageable.”

“Wait, you’re saying everyone could see everything as it happened?” asked Sorin nervously.

“Of course,” said Grand Elder Hargrave. “Less so with the God Seeds and nothing inside the Ouroboros’s Divine Realm, but we managed to piece things together. And don’t give me that look. If we could have helped, we would have. Unfortunately, this is the way the Evils play their games. We’re but pawn pieces in a greater struggle.”

Grand Elder Hargrave swept his sleeve and collected Sorin and his teammates inside a bubble of poisonous energy. Thin golden strands lined the spell matrix that broke down the wildlife and death energies running rampant in the Ouroboros’s surroundings.

The Grand Elder then flew past the Inner City towards the Pandoran Continent. “Isn’t this against protocol?”

Grand Elder Hargrave snorted. “What does protocol have to do with me? Now be a dear and pipe down while I fight off the Hyde Clan’s restrictions. They’re frustrating to deal with, but fortunately for us, the Zeis Clan isn’t too happy about Ratten’s recent actions.”

“Um, sir? Is there a reason we’re not following protocol?” asked Stephan, who’d finally found his legs.

“Tax evasion, obviously,” said Grand Elder Hargrave. “I’ll be damned if I let the Hyde Clan take a penny more than the bare minimum.”