On an unnamed slope of Barbarus, Hades stood still, his gaze fixed on the figure shrouded in the pale mist. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met. Even through the dense fog, the tall, gaunt figure stared intently at the first of his kind he had ever seen.
In the subspace, the master of the garden muttered discontentedly. The fate he had so carefully brewed seemed to have taken on a discordant note, but it was fleeting.
He grumbled, scratching a pustule on his chin, which burst, spilling pus. This improved his mood slightly. Perhaps the displeasing taste was just a fragment of a nightmare.
He continued to stir his cauldron, filled with countless delightful diseases and plagues, all dancing and singing in praise of his benevolence.
He would get what he wanted.
It seemed an uninvited guest had arrived on the stage of the Four Gods.
Yet, this guest's debut seemed to have no audience.
A blue figure chuckled. Wait, was there truly no audience?
Hades hesitated for a moment but chose not to call out directly. The puppets were still on their way. There was time. He turned and, with Typhon, rescued the remaining people from the carriage.
Partly to save them, partly to use them as a shield against the puppets.
Hades thought darkly.
Most of them were doomed.
As the people emerged, Typhon spotted Mortarion's fortress. In a panic, he ran towards it.
Under his lead, the people also began to run towards the fortress. Most of them didn't have gas masks, and they wouldn't survive long in the open air at this altitude.
The crowd began to move towards the fortress, and the mindless puppets changed their trajectory.
Hades, taking advantage of the chaos, quietly retreated to the rear of the cargo truck, crossbow in hand, taking aim.
He believed his gas mask would protect him from the toxic air.
The puppets followed... Several times, Hades had a clear shot, but he held back, waiting for the right moment.
Like in the original story, Typhon began to shout at Mortarion, "Who are you?"
He cried out, half sobbing, half wailing.
"You sit there, watching from afar? You clearly see us! You could help us!"
The faster puppets began to attack Typhon. The leader was clearly overwhelmed, fighting desperately in the mud with a rusty dagger.
Others had already been felled by the toxic air, unconscious, awaiting only death.
The rest, like Typhon, were engaged in combat with the puppets. But lacking combat experience, they were quickly torn apart.
Typhon was soon overpowered. His psychic talents only allowed him to hold out a little longer.
Several puppets surrounded him, seemingly intent on tearing him limb from limb.
Hades took aim but hesitated, waiting.
Waiting for Mortarion to decide to fight back, to decide to save Typhon.
Otherwise, none of them would escape.
"Help us! Stranger! You can help us!"
Hades knew Mortarion was undergoing a fierce internal struggle.
Gunshots rang out, and the puppets fell. A figure from the fortress held a firearm.
Success. Hades smirked.
Seeing Mortarion raise his gun to aid the humans, the fortress's defending puppets roared in anger. They were Mortarion's subordinates and his jailers.
They grabbed their weapons and charged at Mortarion.
The main force of the slavers also targeted Mortarion.
Mortarion leapt from the towering battlements, landing heavily, causing a shockwave.
He drew a whip made of long iron chains, swinging it with force. Each strike was accompanied by splattering flesh and blood.
Mortarion moved through the puppet horde with a mix of madness and calm, tearing them apart.
Initially, the puppets could suppress Mortarion with their numbers, but as time passed, the battle became a one-sided massacre. Mortarion, in a bloodlust, attacked relentlessly, even forgoing some opportunities to defend in favor of more aggressive assaults.
Compared to the rampaging Mortarion, Typhon struggled. Clutching his gas mask with one hand and wielding a blade with the other, he fended off the attacking puppets.
Meanwhile, Hades, from his hiding spot behind the truck, provided support with his crossbow. The lack of targeted attacks from the puppets gave him precious time to reload and aim. He took shots, assisting the two frontline fighters.
His arrows were silent, but deadly accurate.
He successfully took down three puppets attempting to ambush Typhon and several more targeting Mortarion, giving Mortarion more opportunities to attack rather than defend.
When Hades's last arrow struck down a puppet, the massacre began to wind down. The ground was littered with gore and twitching limbs. The few remaining puppets fled towards the higher slopes.
A few puppets still engaged Typhon and Mortarion, but they posed no real threat. Hades emerged from his hiding spot and ran to the smaller escort vehicles.
He started one up and called out to the few remaining humans. Miraculously, they had survived both the toxic air and the puppet onslaught.
"Run!" Hades shouted. They rushed over and climbed in.
"Kid, aren't you coming?"
Hades glanced at them. "Not yet."
When the odds were in his favor, Hades liked to take a gamble.
They didn't try to persuade him further. The gray vehicle moved slowly towards the valley.
It was slow, but it would get them to safety.
Hades found another truck to use as his escape vehicle. He started it up and drove it a short distance away.
He then returned, searching the modified vehicles. He found a wrench and used it to smash open the fuel valves of all the smaller vehicles he could find. Fuel poured out, quickly covering the stone ground.
Once done, he turned his attention back to Mortarion and Typhon, who seemed to be engaged in a verbal spat.
As a former otaku, Hades couldn't understand or emulate this peculiar behavior, but he respected it. After all, this was a world where beliefs and thoughts held real power.
But guys, stop chatting. Mortarion's adoptive father will be here soon!
Hades took a deep breath, his gas mask making a creaking sound.
"Typhon! Calas Typhon! And you over there! Are you running or not?!"
"The Xenos will be here soon! If we don't run now, it'll be too late!"
The strange atmosphere of "pondering the meaning of life" and "whether we should live" vanished. The two looked at Hades in surprise.
Hades waved them over.
At the same time, horns sounded from the mountain's peak, signaling the supreme lords' attack.
Typhon urgently spoke to Mortarion, but the latter remained motionless.
Hades knew what Mortarion was thinking. His entire life had been defined by the choice of "kill my adoptive father or die." But the sudden appearance of Typhon and Hades presented a new option: "run."
It was like someone who had been playing a game since birth, where only options A and B existed. Then one day, someone tells you that you
can choose C.
Mortarion was struggling with this newfound freedom.
Hades didn't have time to wait for Mortarion to make up his mind. He ran to the truck he had prepared and started it up. The engine roared to life.
"Get in!" Hades shouted.
Typhon hesitated for a moment, then ran towards the truck.
Mortarion still stood there, lost in thought.
Hades cursed under his breath. He revved the engine, hoping the noise would snap Mortarion out of his daze.
It worked. Mortarion turned and ran towards the truck, leaping into the back just as Hades floored the accelerator.
The truck sped away, leaving the fortress and the mountain behind.
The Xenos lords, seeing their prey escaping, were enraged. They ordered their puppets to give chase.
But Hades had a plan.
He drove the truck towards the pool of fuel he had created earlier. As the truck passed over it, he threw a lit flare out the window.
The fuel ignited in a massive explosion, creating a wall of fire between the truck and the pursuing puppets.
The explosion was so powerful that it knocked the truck off course, but Hades managed to regain control and keep driving.
The Xenos lords watched in fury as their prey escaped, their plans foiled.
Hades, Typhon, and Mortarion had managed to escape the clutches of the Xenos lords, but their journey was far from over.
The three of them would face many more challenges and enemies in their quest to survive and find a way off the planet.
But for now, they had won a small victory, and that was enough.