Aron's golden eyes burned bright, like fire breathing out, and with those blazing eyes, he saw them much more clearly.
[Ron (Half-Olympian)]
[Karma: +568]
[Lacy (Half-Olympian)]
[Karma: +450]
[Eli (Half-Olympian)]
[Karma: +458]
Gazing at those boiling high numbers of karma, his system flagged as well.
[Aron (Immortal)]
[Karma: -23,567]
[Warning: High karma detected. Confrontation is ill-advised. While the world is against you, it will aid your opponents.]
Aron saw the blue screen. He already knew the consequences. These brats always had their daddy's support. So, of course. But that wasn't the issue here.
He gazed at the spear for a second before passing it on to Peter.
"...My lord…" he said, taking the spear. Feeling that golden coldness in his hands.
"...You need it more than me. You've got my back… right?" Aron asked.
Peter nodded, his blue eyes glowing, burning with determined fire. He looked at the three walking toward them—three intense beings of divinity that already dwarfed him in so many ways. That burned palm quaked once more. His jelly-like legs told him to back off.
'...I won't mess this up…' he thought as he gradually turned invisible.
This slowed the steps of the three demigods. But they paced forward anyway.
"...Lacy, take care of the invisible one…" Ron ordered. "And Eli, I want you to observe." He pointed upward. "I don't want other half-bloods coming and messing this up."
Both nodded. Their divinity slowly churned—not to full strength, but enough to handle the mess before them.
"""By the wings of the Messenger, we will not falter.""" All three echoed. Ron's pace started to increase. The axe from his shoulder now gripped fully, while Eli waved her hands as her feet left the ground, her divinity letting her ride the wind. Lacy's steps grew faster and faster until he became a blur.
Aron ground his foot into the concrete, bracing for impact. He would dodge, but at his back, Theo was still there. And he still had his uses. Seeing the two coming at him at once—one leaping with his axe while the other used speed to knock him off balance…
[Charge: 1%]
'It's really gonna get messy…' he thought, taking the hits.
Pow!
They landed their blows. The axe should have butchered right through him, and the kinetic punch should have plowed the golden man over. But they felt neither. They only saw one hand pinching the edge of the axe while the other grabbed Lacy's fist.
"Quite a bit of power there... but you boys are still too young. Still too inexperienced," Aron said, pushing them back with enough force to stagger them. He didn't show it, but it hurt—both of his hands going numb. What he suffered was thrice the impact he had absorbed.
Both demigods looked confused. "...That should have been a critical hit…" Lacy said as he saw the golden-haired man utterly unsettled, unharmed.
"...Who are you…?" Ron bellowed, pointing his axe toward the man.
"....Well, I have a lot of names, but... I will just say I am an old soul," Aron replied.
Ron turned to Lacy. "...You said he could be some weak herald interfering."
"...I said *could*, not *was*…" Lacy replied. But before they could even blink, the sound of a flapping coat reached them as Aron was already above them.
"Like I said… inexperienced…" Aron said as he grabbed both of their heads and plowed them down onto the concrete floor. He kept them there, still holding them pinned.
"Kids, let me be straight—there is no reality where you are defeating me. So I will ask once to confirm…" he said, pressing down harder. Half of their heads already rumbled against the concrete with muffled noises.
"Did you, or did you not, plan the explosion and the chaos here?" he asked, his tone turning hoarse at the end.
Eli, on the other hand, wanted to crash in and help her brothers, but the moment she got close, she felt a hit from a staff, forcing her back. She knew it was the invisible herald.
"...Back off, human…" she said, looking around while still floating. "...Don't embarrass yourself too much. There are no immortals to save you weak bunch."
A mocking laugh echoed across the rooftop. "You'd think that, naturally, wouldn't you?" Peter grunted with ferocity. He lunged, spear thrusting true, slicing deep into Eli's flank despite her divine blood.
An ordinary blade—the sort he carried through daily grind—wouldn't have scratched Olympian flesh. This weapon was different. It bit true, tilting the scales briefly and catching even Peter off guard.
Eli hissed in pain and shock. "You fool. This shirt cost an entire cycle of hard-earned blessings," she snarled. Air twisted around her, coiling into a razor-edged vortex in her palm before she hurled it toward the taunting voice.
"Missed, dull half-blood. Think I'd stand still?" Peter jeered. He swung the spear with every ounce of strength, driving it toward the girl who had dismissed him.
The strike landed hard in her midsection with a meaty thud.
Eli grunted, stumbling back several steps despite the blow's power. "That's all?" she mocked, wicked grin hiding rising anger.
Peter felt the gulf in power. His arm trembled from the rebound alone. Striking her felt like hammering stone, not flesh.
"Monster," he ground out.
"Me?....A Monster? I'll show you true monstrosity." Fury ignited. She spun, faster and faster, becoming a whirling blur as surrounding air warped into slashing currents. She halted abruptly, palms thrust outward. Compressed wind exploded outward in a devastating shockwave, slamming the invisible Peter against the massive steel tank. Pain lanced through his spine as breath fled his lungs.
Both combatants flared brighter divinity, teeth clenched, eyes blazing as they rose again.
Aron released his grip instantly and strode to Peter, lifting him from the ground, checking for injury. Pulse steady—yet the man lay unconscious from the impact.
Inward blame stung Aron for the error as Odds favored the demigods decisively. The world itself opposed him at every turn, stripping advantages mercilessly.
He faced Theo, expecting triumph at their downfall, but the apostle gnashed teeth, glaring pure hatred at his former masters.
'So he is...?' The thought intrigued, yet time pressed. "Theo," Aron commanded. "Guard my friend here, and I may restore your arm… and maybe.. mend your ruined karma when this ends."
Theo burned to snap back as this forced allegiance left no escape. Demigods craved his death; the ancient immortal offered aid despite past cruelty. Pain throbbed from earlier wounds, blood still pouring from the stump, yet Theo advanced with grim resolve.
"Why assume I'd protect you or your herald without treachery?" Suspicion laced his voice.
"Because your hatred for them burns hotter than any grudge against me," Aron stated, nodding toward the regrouping trio.
Theo fell silent, yellow eyes narrowing in turmoil.
"And I know you engineered this encounter—the instant you recognized me," Aron added, smile cutting deep. "Hoping to wield my strength against the masters chaining you."
Theo recoiled, shock widening his gaze. Aron savored the reaction while advancing on the cautious demigods.
He clenched his jaw, staring at that broad, unyielding back with resentment warring against grudging respect. "You knew from the start? But, played along anyway?" He glanced at the unconscious mortal nearby—easy prey—yet the immortal entrusted him deliberately.
"Why?" Genuine bafflement colored the question. "Why risk trusting scum like me without protection?"
Aron paused. "I see it plainly."
Silence stretched.
"I see you…plainly," Aron answered evenly. "Don't overthink it. Our hatred simply converged. That's it." He advanced as the demigods readied weapons with fresh intensity.
Theo pressed his back to the steel tank and slid down beside Peter. "Pathetic weakling," he muttered, claiming the spear with his remaining hand.
"hatred converged? utter nonsense." Inside, resentment churned alongside reluctant awe—he had craved freedom from those tyrants for years, enduring humiliation, dreaming of vengeance that never came. Now this ancient force offered the blade. Of course he couldn't deny it. He channeled remaining divinity into a protective barrier enveloping them both.
'Let's see…if those are just empty promises or just another band of brave lies.'
Across the roof, the trio adjusted tactics swiftly. Weapons pulsed with heightened divine energy. Grips tightened. Yellow eyes burned fiercer with resolve.
"Strike together—no restraint now. " Ron ordered, swiping blood from his nose.
"Who is he, really? So strong without flashing divinity," Lacy muttered, unease growing.
"Irrelevant," Eli snapped. "He's powerful—dangerously so. See him advancing alone against us three. That's either a maniac or a god we don't know of.."
Boom!
They launched: blurring speed, gravity-defying flight, crackling power. Encircling him seamlessly. No more arrogance—No more distraction, they poured full focus into the assault.
Aron surveyed calmly. "hmm…Solid tactic. Much better than before, but… Still—zero chance," he declared with iron certainty.
"Shut up!" Ron roared, rage overwhelming. Never before humbled so thoroughly; vengeance demanded blood as All three struck in perfect coordination.
Aron inhaled deeply, stepping forward, fists clenched to deliver an unforgettable lesson to these youths. Then the surface beneath his foot shifted.
'Not again…' Frustration flared—he recognized the curse's timing. Low karma struck once more. The damaged roof finally buckled, and it had to be beneath his weight.
The divine trio seized the opening instantly. "He's exposed— use everything now!" Ron bellowed. Eli unleashed a screaming cyclone of razor winds, Lacy drove a kinetic blast that detonated on impact, Ron cleaved with axe at full ferocious strength—no mercy shown. None.
DOOM!
Every blow connected simultaneously, hammering Aron downward through floor after floor after floor after floor after floor—combined might smashing him clear to the basement amid cataclysmic thunder.
The moonlight shone on the dust and debris from the large hole stretching from the roof to the ground, the shimmering moonlight glinting on their yellow hair. All three of them stood there, breathing heavily. Their divinity gradually calmed. Drained more than usual. They had poured more than they intended into that strike.
"...Is it done? Did he finally die?" Eli asked as she gradually landed on the destroyed debris.
Lacy walked around; the body was nowhere to be seen. "...Don't know. Maybe he's buried dead. For good." There was no noise, only the settling clatter of debris falling down.
"He must be dead… my karma just got sucked deep from using that much divinity," Ron said.
"Who the fuck was he… really?" Lacy asked.
Eli looked at the moon above them, then down at the debris. "...He was no herald, I can say that. I think he might be some half-blood, maybe son of the main gods?" she suggested.
"Hmmm…" Ron kept staring at the broken ceilings.
*…He could be an immortal,* he thought, but he didn't want to admit it. This thing—he had felt it—was the strongest opponent he had ever faced. And the only reason they had won was because of luck. Simple as that.
"...The win was ours from the beginning. We are sons and daughter of Hermes. His blessing was all we needed," he said. "Let's handle the traitor and make him pay…"
"Indeed. I need my spear back."
"…Of course, and I want to torture that human herald. He tore my shirt and my blessing—all thanks to Lacy losing his spear," she replied.
Crack!
"…Don't blame me and my blessed spear for your weakness," Lacy replied.
Crack! Crack!
"Wait—shut up!" Ron said, his breathing unsteady. He turned. "…Did you hear that?"
Lacy and Eli turned. "…What do yo—"
CRACK! CRUNCH!
The chunks of broken concrete shook, shifting as something beneath tried to crawl out.
"…No fucking way."
CRACK! CRUNCH! CRACK!
A hand emerged from the rubble as a golden-haired head followed. He pushed himself free, shoving aside heavy steel-reinforced concrete as if it were sponge, until he finally stood. The golden-eyed man dusted debris from his long coat.
All three stared at him as if he were a ghost—or perhaps he was, perhaps he wasn't. Their mouths hung open.
"Is this for real?"
"I'm not dreaming, am I?"
"…" Ron stayed quiet, but the moment those golden eyes met his, his gut twisted. He dropped into stance. "…Positions!" he shouted, snapping his brother and sister from their shock.
Aron coughed, spitting out lingering debris. "…You brats are good, I'll give you that. You lot packed some punch. But…" he said, taking a step forward.
All three took a step back, Lacy and Eli waiting for Ron's cue.
Aron took another step; the three took two steps back.
When Ron steadied himself, "…It's time for a miracle," he said, knowing exactly what to do.
Hearing Ron, both widened their eyes in shock. "Ron, are you sure?" Eli asked.
Ron nodded, and that was enough. Eli and Lacy pushed their divinity higher and higher and higher, burning through all remaining reserves. Ron did the same, reaching their absolute maximum.
Aron watched their bodies glow, recognizing their intent. "…Interesting," he said. He knew what they planned: invoking a miracle that should only be possible for a true god. With their high divinity and remaining karma combined, they could force it.
He was curious to see it, but glancing through a shattered window, he saw crowds gathering again. They had drawn far more attention than necessary.
"Sorry, I don't have time to play," Aron said. He blitzed toward Lacy, palm clamping the demigod's entire head from the side. In that instant, Lacy—who prided himself as the fastest among demigods—realized he hadn't even seen a blur.
He was nothing.
Aron gripped tighter, spun, and hurled Lacy into Ron and Eli, disrupting their ritual. Ron surged forward, swinging his axe laced with every drop of divinity. Aron simply waited.
The axe came down harder than ever, aimed at his shoulder with strength Ron hadn't known he possessed. It struck true—piercing coat and shirt, but not skin. The moment the blade touched Aron's shoulder…
Crack!
It shattered. The axe, forged from elements beyond mortal comprehension, broke into pieces. Aron glanced at his torn coat, mildly annoyed, as Ron stood frozen with only the handle left.
"…This coat is expensive, you know," he said, looking down at him.
Ron couldn't move. He could only stand there, broken weapon in hand. Too late, but he finally understood what—who—he faced.
*A monster,* he thought, just before a sideways blow sent him flying like discarded meat.
Aron turned to the remaining two demigods, downed in single strikes. "…Weak. Too weak. I thought, with my karma so low, you lot might scratch my itch a bit." He now faced Eli.
Eli backed away, golden eyes bearing down on her. "…Yo…you…" she stammered. "…You are not a half-blood…"
Aron stepped forward, hand churning with faint divinity.
[Charging: 0.1%]
Eli retreated further, realization crashing through her. "…I read about…you… golden hair, golden eyes…"
[Charging: 0.4%]
She collapsed, legs giving out from terror and depleted divinity, back hitting the wall. "…You…"
[Charging: 0.9%]
"You are....the Golden One," she whispered.
[Charging: 1% Full]
Aron looked down at her, hand blazing with divinity. "…Correct," he said, driving his fist forward.
Doom!
The blow smashed into her face, punching clean through what had once been beautiful features. Her frantic limbs lost strength, slumping lifeless.
'…No mercy to the pagans,' he thought, raising his bloody fist from the broken body.
[Karma: 300+]
[Karma: 350+]
[Karma: 400+]
******
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