Chapter 58
"Here's a bit of free advice~"
The ferryman leaned on his pole, the blue flames in his skull's sockets crinkling in what might have been amusement as he watched Cyd and Medusa step onto the bleak, ash-grey shore.
"Don't eat anything down here. Not a single seed, not a drop of water. If you ever want to see the sun again."
"Huh. You're unexpectedly decent," Cyd said, raising an eyebrow.
"Meh. Big spenders like you not coming back means fewer repeat customers," the ferryman shrugged, the bones in his shoulders clicking. "Eat the food, and you just… stay. Simple as that."
"Now get lost!"
"Don't be like that~ You're gonna need my boat for the return trip anyway," the ferryman chuckled, scratching his bony jaw with a sound like sandpaper. "Tell you what. I'll even give you a tip on how to handle the big, bad puppy up ahead. On the house."
"Ha… How about this?" Cyd flicked a gold coin into the air, catching it with a snap. "I give you five of these, and you go distract Cerberus for me."
The flames in the ferryman's eyes flared violently for a split second, then settled into a dull, wary glow. He waved a dismissive hand. "You're joking, right? That thing is a legend for a reason. I have no desire to be its chew toy."
"Five coins."
"Sir, you can't just—" The ferryman's voice strained. His right hand, seemingly of its own volition, began to creep toward Cyd's outstretched palm before he wrestled it back.
"Never mind, then." Cyd closed his fist, making the coins vanish back into his pouch. "I admire your willpower. Truly."
"Wait! I could… give you a strategy! A really good one!" The ferryman's gaze was now locked on Cyd's money pouch with palpable hunger.
Cyd lifted his foot and placed it firmly against the side of the skiff. "Go pole your boat."
He shoved off hard.
The ferryman's indignant squawk was cut off by a loud splash as the little boat was sent spinning back into the thick mist, quickly disappearing from sight.
"What is your plan?" Medusa asked, hefting her sickles. The curved blades gleamed dully in the eternal twilight. "I can draw its attention."
"Just watch," Cyd said, giving her a quick wink. "Trust me."
"Okay." Medusa nodded, though her grip on her weapons didn't loosen.
---
Five minutes later.
"Are you sure you don't want me to distract it?" Medusa whispered, pointing one sickle at the mass blocking the towering, obsidian gates ahead.
"That is a three-headed dog?" Cyd muttered, his eye twitching as he craned his neck.
The creature lounging before the gates was the size of a small hill. Its body was a patchwork of shaggy, shadow-dark fur and plates of what looked like petrified bone. And the heads… "Three" was a severe understatement. A central cluster of three massive, wolf-like heads sprouted from its shoulders, each with jaws that could swallow a man whole. But from their necks, manes, and even along its spine, more heads grew—snarling mastiffs, sleek hounds, snapping jackals. At least fifty pairs of eyes, glowing with sickly green fire, were now fixed on the two intruders. Fifty sets of nostrils flared, sniffing the air for the scent of life.
"That is just a rumor," Medusa stated with her usual factual calm.
"MORTALS!"
The sound wasn't a roar; it was a cacophony. Fifty-odd throats bellowed in imperfect unison, creating a physical wave of sound that hit Cyd like a wall. He stumbled back a step, clapping his hands over his ringing ears. The air itself vibrated with the command.
"THIS IS THE GATEWAY TO THE REALM OF HADES! THE DEAD MAY NOT LEAVE! THE LIVING MAY NOT ENTER! DEPART! OR BE RENT ASUNDER!"
"Yeah, I'm starting to think the myths left out some important details," Cyd groaned, lowering into a cautious crouch. "They made this sound so easy."
"It is the guardian of the Underworld. It is not meant to be easy," Medusa said, her posture shifting. Her amethyst eyes began to glow with an ominous, gathering light from beneath her hood. "I do not know if it will work on such a creature, but I will attempt to turn it to stone."
"Wait!" Cyd's hand landed on her head, gentle but firm. "I've got a plan."
He nudged her behind him and reached into a different pouch at his belt. From it, he pulled out a single, large honey cake. It didn't smell like much to him, but a chorus of low, rumbling growls and the sound of massive amounts of drool hitting stone told him all he needed to know.
In every story, this was the trick. The hero tosses a honey cake, the guardian dog gets drowsy, everyone waltzes through. Simple.
"DECEITFUL HUMAN! WE WILL NOT FALL FOR SUCH A TRICK! IF WE ARE TO PARTAKE, IT WILL BE AFTER WE HAVE DRIVEN YOU OFF!" One of the central heads—a large, intelligent-looking mastiff—snarled.
"If you hadn't added that last part, I might have believed you," Cyd said, tossing the cake lightly in his hand. He could see it clearly—at least half of the dozens of heads were tracking the cake's movement with laser focus. Saliva dripped in thick ropes from dozens of jaws. "You don't have to eat it. Let one of your… other selves have it."
Yep. The glowing eyes on about twenty-five heads brightened with unmistakable greed.
"DO NOT FORGET OUR DUTY!" The duty-conscious mastiff head snapped, whipping around to headbutt a slobbering hound head next to it.
"It's fine! I'll just pop in for a minute, then be right out," Cyd coaxed, taking a careful step forward. He placed the honey cake on the barren ground, then retreated. "You don't get many sweet treats down here, do you?"
A collective, deafening "GULP" echoed, including, Cyd noted with satisfaction, from the duty-bound mastiff.
"DAMN IT ALL!" The mastiff-head roared in frustration. It saw the other heads leaning in, felt the collective will crumbling. It had to act.
THOOM.
A colossal paw, larger than Cyd's entire body, lifted and slammed down with earth-shaking force. When it lifted, the honey cake was gone, pressed into a greasy, crumb-filled smear in the grey dirt.
Cyd's hopeful expression shattered.
He'd brought only one cake specifically to cause infighting and avoid leaving a trail. Rookie mistake.
"REMEMBER THE OATH SWORN TO LORD HADES!" the mastiff-head howled, now righteous in its victory.
The other heads, their temptation literally ground into dust, snapped back to attention. Their multifaceted gaze, now unified and hostile, locked back onto Cyd. No more cake. No more scent of sweets on him. Back to business.
"Are you kidding me?!" Cyd grabbed fistfuls of his own hair. "Every other schmuck in the stories gets past with a pastry! Even that musician guy! Why does the dog become a paragon of duty when I show up?!"
"LEAVE! OR FACE US IN BATTLE!"
"Fine. Plan B failed," Cyd sighed, rolling his shoulders. He handed his pack to Medusa. "Stand back."
"Understood." She retreated, sickles still ready.
"Just so we're clear!" Cyd jabbed a thumb at his own chest. "I'm actually really strong!"
The answer was a paw the size of a cart sweeping toward him in a blur.
Okay, intimidation was off the table.
SHINK-SHINK-SHINK—CLACK.
The scaled cloak on Cyd's right shoulder flared. From within its depths, a torrent of black, obsidian-like scales erupted. They didn't just fall; they flew, interlocking and multiplying in mid-air, forging themselves into a vast, draconic claw that mirrored the one on his arm, but magnified a hundredfold. The claw snapped forward and caught the descending paw mere feet from Cyd's head. The impact sounded like two mountains colliding.
"Sit."
The dragon-claw didn't just stop the blow; it yanked. With a terrifying display of strength, it hauled the multi-ton beast off its feet and into the air. Before Cerberus could right itself, Cyd pivoted, the giant claw mimicking his motion. It drew back and then drove forward like a piston, a scaled fist the size of a cottage smashing into the creature's midsection.
BOOOOOOM.
The sound was a sickening crunch of impact followed by a seismic thud as Cerberus was launched across the clearing. It hit the ground fifty yards away, carving a deep trench in the ashen earth before skidding to a stop in a cloud of dust and dislodged stones.
Cyd stood with his arms crossed, the shimmering wall of defensive scales hovering around him like a swarm of lethal insects. He peered into the settling dust cloud.
"Can I go in now?" he asked, his voice mild.
ROOOOOAR—!
The reply was a furious, multi-voiced scream. Stones flew as the massive shape exploded from the crater. All pretense of orderly combat vanished. It was a full-on, feral charge, fifty mouths gaping, claws raking the ground, a living avalanche of fury aimed at erasing the insult to its post.
"And I was trying to be nice…" Cyd murmured.
The scaled cloak on his back didn't just billow this time; it unleashed. A wave of black scales poured forth like an inverted tsunami, crashing against the charging beast. But this wave solidified as it moved. From the churning mass, not one, but dozens of smaller, yet still massive, draconic claws shot out. Each one found a target—a muzzle, a neck, a skull. Fifty grasping, adamantine claws clamped down, arresting the charge completely. Cerberus's forward momentum was transformed into a violent, jarring halt, its many legs scrambling for purchase on the smooth stone.
Cyd casually reached up and plucked a fist-sized chunk of rock that had been hurtling toward his face out of the air. He squeezed. The stone pulverized into dust between his fingers.
"I said… sit."
The network of scaled claws exerted their force downward in a unified, brutal motion.
CRUNCH—THUD.
Cerberus was driven into the ground once more, this time with finality. The earth trembled. A shockwave of displaced air whipped Cyd's hair and clothes violently. He opened his hand, letting the stone dust be carried away by the phantom wind toward the distant, silent river.
He looked down at the pinned, snarling, but utterly immobilized guardian. One of the central heads, the duty-bound mastiff, managed to lift its snout just enough to glare at him, panting with rage and effort.
Cyd tilted his head. "May I enter?"