Chapter 18 - Groover of ashes
The sea stretched wide and silver under the afternoon sun. Waves crashed gently against the beach, carrying the scent of salt and freedom.
Jay stood awkwardly in the sand, backpack slung tight against his shoulders. His frame looked smaller than usual beside Leo, who carried himself with effortless strength. Jay fiddled with the strap, trying to seem casual but failing.
Leo's sharp eyes caught it immediately. "That backpack. Let me guess—electrical?"
Eden and Ethan both snapped their heads toward him, eyes wide.
"Wait. Electrical?" Ethan blurted. "Like—the disaster-level robot electrical?!"
Leo chuckled, shaking his head. "You two weren't there. But yeah. He can control it—sort of. Now they're working together."
The two idiots exchanged stunned looks, speechless.
Then Leo's gaze shifted. His eyes locked onto Eden with the weight of a predator sizing up prey. Eden felt the stare sink into him, heavy, suffocating.
"You seem odd," Leo said at last, voice low and cutting.
Eden straightened his back, refusing to look away. "I'm a titled demigod. Just like you. My title is Warden of the Underseas."
For a moment, silence. Then Leo laughed, clapping Eden on the back with a force that nearly knocked him forward.
"Lavin, right? The god who made every beasts tremble? Did you get through the Paths Trial too? Man it should be suck lavin not easy to please"
Eden nodded, though his answer carried a different weight. His silence said more than words ever could.
Meanwhile, Abyss was far away from their banter, leaning against the small bracelet stand near the beach. The old shop owner was still thanking him for something Abyss had done earlier, smiling despite the creases of age.
"You're weird, that's for sure," the man said, counting coins with quick fingers. "But you did a great job. Here, take this." He pressed money into Abyss's palm.
"Fifty-fifty split," the man added.
Abyss frowned, puzzled as he glanced at the bills. "Why do I need this? Don't people use drachma these days?"
The old man barked a laugh. "My god, where are you stuck? Ancient Greece? We use cash, kid."
Abyss pocketed the money reluctantly and drifted back toward the others on the beach.
Clarita rose from her spot, brushing sand from her knees, and stepped in his path. She looked nervous, but determination tightened her jaw.
"Hey, Abyss… can we speak?"
He towered above her, arms folded. "What do you want, exactly?"
She hesitated before blurting out, "Can you… make it up with Ethan? For me, please?"
Abyss's eyes narrowed. "Who is Ethan?"
Clarita pointed toward the boy standing stiffly a few steps back. Ethan, who had spent days seeing Abyss's shadow everywhere—reflections in mirrors, corners of rooms, words echoing in his head. The memory of Abyss's cold threats gnawed at him, but now, with Clarita's pleading eyes on him, he stepped forward.
"I—I'm Ethan," he said, forcing a smile. "Nice to meet you. Our first meeting wasn't… the best."
Abyss tilted his head, studying him with a slow, deliberate gaze. Then he spoke.
"Oh, you're Ethan. No wonder you didn't make an impression."
He crossed his muscular arms, every inch of him radiating disdain he is not trying to be arrogant that's the thing about abyss he is honest speak what he thinks about without thinking what other would think.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
(I am iralings don't worry guys I will show you the trial I am not a bitch)
The trial of Eden was like that
Darkness pressed in on all sides. Cold. Silent. Then, slowly, the sound of rushing water.
Eden blinked, his body heavy, floating in a black river that stung his skin like venom. "What is this? Where am I?"
The waters stirred, and a voice rose from the current—deep, ancient, trembling with hidden rage two big red eyes was opened in the river.
"The river of despair… my blood, flowing eternal. You stand within me."
The shape of Lavin formed within the ripples, once who was a mighty leviathan god now a river with two eyes his words slithered through Eden's skull.
"You are desperate, aren't you? You want to save your friend. That's why you tried to claw your way into the Underworld."
"I… don't understand." Eden's voice echoed in the black. "How did I get here? I was at the shrine of darkness, near the—"
"—The Dark Goliath," Lavin cut him off, his form surging. "It struck you down near this river. I claimed you. I gave you a piece of myself… power enough to keep moving forward. But in exchange—you must endure my trial."
Eden's fists clenched. "But… shouldn't only my godly parents grant me a title?"
For the first time, the river roared, waves crashing around him like a storm. Lavin's voice shook the current itself.
"You question too much, boy! We share blood. We are bound deeper than your parents' pride or the gods' rules. I can grant you what you seek. I can make you more."
The river stilled. And then it parted.
Before Eden stretched a nightmare path—the river Acheron itself. Each step forward pulled him deeper into despair. Each wave carried monsters rising from shadow—fangs, claws, rotting wings. He fought, blade cutting through creature after creature, yet with every kill his arms grew heavier, his breath shorter.
And then came the dead.
From the waters rose hollow-eyed souls, gaunt and desperate. They clutched at him with skeletal fingers, whispering in cracked voices:
"Pay for us… an obol… let us cross…"
"Trade your life, boy… give us your soul…"
They dragged him down, clutching, clawing, their despair like chains around his throat.
A figure rose among them. Cloaked in shadow, face hidden, staff in hand. Charon. His presence alone thickened the air until Eden could barely breathe.
"Life," Charon intoned, his voice like iron chains grinding together. "Or death?"
The world hushed.
Eden's chest heaved. His body shook. But his eyes sharpened with defiance. "I choose…" He grit his teeth, fists tight. "…Ethan. Sorry."
He lunged forward, tackling Charon with every shred of will left in him. But the ferryman dissolved like smoke, sliding into him. His body convulsed, the despair of a thousand souls burning through his veins—until blackness swallowed him whole.
When he woke, his lungs filled with air again. His body felt different—denser, heavier, alive with a strange strength. And around him stretched the endless caverns of the Underworld.
The trial was over. And Eden had won he is now a titled Demigod aka"warden of the underseas"
Though somewhere is in Sanctuary of Apollo
The sanctuary glowed in a warm, golden hush. Sunlight spilled from the marble walls as if the temple itself breathed radiance.
Arthur knelt upon the polished floor, head bowed, yet the weight in his chest pressed heavier than the silence.
A voice broke it—calm, melodic, yet edged with solemnity.
"Son… have you heard of Garon?"
Arthur raised his eyes. Apollo stood above him, a god wreathed in light, but his expression was shadowed.
"Yes," Arthur answered, his tone low and bitter. "The god of slavery. The one infamous for the Grove of Ashes." His fists clenched at the memory he had only read of in hushed accounts. "Where a boy, brave enough to stand against him, proved his evil. Garon burned all who defied him—mothers, children—none spared. He drowned the grove in flames."
Disgust colored every word.
Apollo inclined his head. "That is the one. He has returned, and now he has allied with the Iraclis." The god's golden eyes fixed on Arthur. "I want you to team up with Abyss and stop him."
Arthur froze. His breath caught in his throat. "The Iraclis?…" The name felt heavy on his tongue. He swallowed. "Are they… as strong as Hazman?"
A pause. Then Apollo's answer cut clean through the silence.
"Not quite. Hazman is different. He devoured his own blood-heart, reaching eighty-five percent godhood. He is an anomaly."
Arthur's chest tightened at the number.
"Normal Iraclis," Apollo continued, "stand at sixty-five percent godhood. Just fifteen percent stronger than the average demigod."
But even as the words hung in the air, Arthur could feel the gap yawning in his mind. Fifteen percent was enough to crush armies. Enough to break men like him.
And Apollo wanted him to face them—alongside Abyss
But at garon place it was like that
On the far side of the world, darkness ruled.
Garon sat upon his throne, a grotesque monument forged from the mangled bodies of Iraclis who had dared disobey. Their twisted faces stared upward, frozen in agony, yet their chains still rattled as if their torment lingered.
"You are weak," Garon's voice thundered, dripping with contempt. "How could you be so stupid as to disobey me? What do demigods have that you do not?"
The silence was suffocating until one Iraclis, trembling, spoke. "Abyss Isad…"
The name made Garon's expression falter, just for a breath. His eyes sharpened like blades. But before he could reply, another voice broke in.
"But why would someone as dangerous as Abyss help them?"
For a moment, only the crackle of fire filled the throne room. Then Garon leaned forward, his grin stretched and venomous. "Let's just hope… for your sakes… that he doesn't. Now remember—our attack will be at night. And at night, the Iraclis are strongest."
in the sanctuary of Apollo, light gleamed across golden pillars. But even here, the peace shattered.
Abyss was already present. His boot slammed into Arthur's side, forcing him from his kneeling position. "Let's go already. Apollo's just spitting nonsense."
He snapped his fingers. Instantly, Apollo's voice fell silent. The god's mouth moved furiously, his face clearly annoyed, but no sound emerged.
Arthur blinked in disbelief. "How… how did you do that?"
Abyss smirked, folding his arms. "Remember—sound travels by wind. I can just…" he flicked his hand, "boom. Turn it off."
Arthur rose slowly, still shaken, brushing dust from his knees. "Then where do we start?"
Abyss's gaze was sharp, merciless. "I know where the Iraclis Society hides. They're not in Garon's kingdom for a reason. Garon rules a vast land, and he won't risk anyone entering it. That means…" His eyes narrowed. "They're gathering elsewhere."