Chapter 15: Scam
Amon dropped his hand with a disappointed sigh. His sword teleported back to the sheath on his back. Looking at Marquis standing in the air, Amon shook his head and cried out:
"What was that for?"
Shrugging, Marquis replied, "Taking out the trash."
"I didn't get to do anything."
"All the more reason for you to thank me."
Clicking his tongue; in annoyance, Amon rolled his eyes and moved towards the sea of corpses. The ground was sticky beneath his feet. The blood clinging to his soles made him frown in disgust. "It's taking longer," he muttered.
Marquis landed next to him with a thud and asked:
"The portal isn't stable?"
Amon nodded before he added:
"Either that or there is no portal."
After a while, the corpses, or at least what remained from Marquis's onslaught, slowly began to dissolve before they disappeared completely. The duo nodded in satisfaction at that. Abyssal spawns were impossible to kill in their mortal plane. Should you kill them here, then they were merely sent back to whatever hell they crawled out of.
If one wanted to get rid of an Abyssal spawn, they would need to dive right into their plane. Something neither Amon nor Marquis was particularly fond of. Turning his gaze to Amon, Marquis spoke in a solemn tone:
"You think whatever summoned these bastards ran away?"
"Somehow, I doubt it. It's all a little too odd if you ask me."
Raising his brow, Marquis asked:
"Odd, you say? How come?"
"Well, my dear friend. Think about it, when was the last time an Abyssal spawn did not leave a trace behind?"
Scratching his head, Marquis was about to speak when Amon interrupted him, "Exactly, not a single time! The fuckers are physically unable to do such a thing. Even a shadow surfer leaves a faint trace if you look hard enough." He paused as he stared at the disappearing monsters before continuing, "This, however, is different."
"So, you think it's not the Abyss?"
"Oh, don't get me wrong. What we fought was certainly Abyss minions, but I believe they were sent our way by someone else."
Marquis's eyes widened in understanding, "You mean those gods?"
With a shrug, Amon answered: "It might be me overthinking it, but It's too suspicious if you ask me."
"Damned bastards, can't we have a fucking break?" Marquis cursed, earning him a chuckle from Amon, "A few hundred years for a break, I'd say that's not so bad."
"You're still keeping count?" Marquis asked with surprise on his face.
"Nah, but I'm sure pops is."
Marquis's face lit up as he heard that. A wide grin stretched across his face. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Amon smirked and grabbed a pouch from his waist. "A thousand, says it's seven hundred years."
Rolling his eyes, Marquis replied: "A thousand? When did you get so cheap? I got five thousand says it's been five hundred years."
Amon's eyes widened as he saw Marquis summon a pouch from the void. "Why are you richer than me when all you've been doing is sit your ass in that house? It doesn't make any sense!"
Marquis's grin widened as he called out to the tiny summons. The bird quickly flew from the top of a ruined building, weaving through the still disappearing corpses before it landed; on Marquis's arm.
"Father, we took care of the problem. Nothing too serious, a bunch of minions and one shadow surfer."
"It was too weak, probably just been summoned." Amon chimed in.
"Good. Trixy found Lance. He captured one of these so-called gods." Ron spoke, clearly unhappy.
"Oh, he didn't kill them?!" Hector suddenly joined in on the conversation. "Is it a girl?"
"Are they strong?" Emra added.
"That fool wants to negotiate with them. It's merely a damn avatar! What's there to negotiate about?" Ron answered, and Amon could clearly hear the frustration in his voice.
Lance had always been like that, a free spirit of sorts. A smile slowly made its way to his face as he reminisced memories of days long gone. "It's okay, pops. You know what he means by negotiating. If there is anyone that could make these gods talk, it'd be him."
A sudden chill made Amon subconsciously close his legs together. He almost felt sorry for whoever was Lance's captive.
"I still didn't get my answer! Is it a girl?!"
"Ah, shut it, you damn pervert!"
"Speaking of which, pops, me and Marquis over here have a question." Amon paused for a second before he continued, "How long has it been since, you know, everything?"
Marquis's strained his ears, moving closer to the bird, Amon did the same. A long sigh escaped Ron's mouth as he scolded the duo, "If you have time for this, then go search for the bastards invading us!"
"We will! We will! It's just that Marquis over here is clearly, very off the mark, so I want to help jog his memory."
Rolling his eyes, Marquis refrained from speaking and instead; waited for Ron's reply.
After another long sigh, Ron finally relented: "It's been six hundred fifty-six years since we closed the gate."
For a moment, the duo stared at each other in silence; before Amon's hand shot out like lightning as he snatched the pouch from Marquis's hands. "I win!"
Marquis replied by hurling a spear at his face, which Amon not so gracefully avoided. "You win, my foot! You said seven hundred! And bet only a thousand! That's five thousand, you bastard!"
"And you said five hundred! Besides, it's six hundred, fifty-six. So I'm closer, which means I win!"
"It doesn't work like that!" Marquis growled before he sent another golden spear at Amon.
This time, Amon was well prepared for it as he used his sword to parry the strike before his body turned into countless particles of golden light that disappeared off in the distance. His voice carried with the wind as he spoke:
"Better luck next time, Spears! Hahaha!"
"AMON!"
***
Reappearing at the edge of the ruined city, Amon threw the pouch in the air with a happy smile. His expression, however, turned strange the next second as he opened the sack. The sight that greeted him barely amounted to a thousand gold coins, perhaps even less.
"The fucker, I knew it was too good to be true. Since when was he so rich." cursing his luck, Amon shook his head as he walked away from the ancient city, throwing it one final glance.