The Minotaur roared, its mechanical bellow tearing through the night, shaking the very air around us. I grit my teeth and tightened my grip on Draeca, muscles straining against the overwhelming force of each of its attacks. Every swing of that monstrous axe whistled past me like a deadly comet, close enough to feel the sheer power behind the strikes.
It was fast—too fast for something so massive. Every time I thought I had its rhythm down, it would switch up its attacks, pounding the ground with its hooves or swiping at me with a punch that could crumple a truck. One wrong move and I'd be turned into a smear on the pavement.
I darted left as the creature's hoof smashed down, the ground splitting beneath it. "Damn it," I muttered, sweat stinging my eyes as I swung Draeca in a desperate counter-strike. The blade glanced off its armored hide, barely scratching the surface. "What are you made of?"
The creature didn't respond—not that I expected it to. Instead, it snorted, thick, black smoke hissing from its nostrils as it straightened. The red glow of its eyes flared, and I had only a second to react before it reared back, opening its mouth wide—
—and a torrent of fire erupted from its maw.
"Holy—!" I barely managed to throw myself to the ground, the blast of flame scorching the air above me. I rolled to my feet, panting, my heart hammering in my chest as the inferno passed.
The Minotaur stomped forward, its hooves shaking the earth, the heat still radiating off its body in waves. It lunged at me again, swinging that massive axe down in a crushing blow. I scrambled back, trying to gain some distance, but its hind legs kicked out, one massive hoof catching me square in the chest.
"Gah!" The impact sent me flying, my ribs screaming in protest as I crashed into the cobblestone street. Pain flared through my entire body, and I coughed, gasping for breath as I struggled to push myself up.
But the Minotaur wasn't giving me time to recover. It charged, closing the distance in an instant, its axe raised high—
And then it brought the blade down.
I rolled to the side, but not fast enough. The axe clipped me, its edge slashing across my face in a searing line of agony. Pain exploded in my skull, blinding me as I felt something tear—a deep, brutal cut that went from my temple to my cheek, bisecting my right eye.
I screamed, the world blurring and spinning as I staggered back, one hand pressed to my ruined eye. Blood poured down my face, warm and sticky, and I felt something inside me twist—fear, anger, desperation all boiling together.
I was losing. I was actually going to die.
No, I thought fiercely, gritting my teeth. I couldn't give up. Not here. Not now.
The Minotaur bellowed, the sound like a victory cry, and I looked up through the haze of blood and pain. It loomed over me, axe raised for the final blow, its fiery breath hissing between its jagged teeth.
"Not… yet," I rasped, my voice barely more than a whisper. My vision was going dark, the edges of my sight fading, but I could still see the beast, still see that mocking, red-eyed gaze.
And then I felt it. A familiar, dark presence stirring in the back of my mind.
"Do you want to live, Adrian?" Khaelus's voice reverberated in my mind, deep and chilling, like a whisper from the abyss. "Do you want to win?"
"Yes!" I gasped, gripping Draeca tighter. "Please…!"
A low, dark chuckle resonated in my head. "Then take this spark, boy. Accept it—and keep it alive, grow that spark into a raging inferno."
How could I capture the sensation that followed? Imagine being in winter, and drinking a steaming cup of hot chocolate—its warmth seeping into your bones. That's what it felt like: a comforting warmth spreading through my body.
I sensed a shift within Draeca, the blade vibrating subtly in my grasp as that same warmth flowed into it. This feeling was so different from my usual cold feeling of using my mana. I breath deeply as I tried to focus on this spark, a tiny flickering spark.
I concentrated, pouring some of my mana into the flickering spark, but it sputtered out, and panic surged through me. No, no, no! I thought desperately, willing it to reignite. Just as despair began to creep in, the spark flickered back to life, growing into a small flame that danced like a matchstick's light.
In that moment, I felt something shift inside me—a new energy thrumming beneath my skin, vibrant and alive. But there was more; a deeper, darker presence called out to me from the shadows. I turned, eyes narrowing as I felt the shadow beckoning, a haunting whisper that seemed to resonate with my very being.
Tentatively, I raised my hand toward the shadow, watching in awe as it flickered and slithered closer, drawn to me. This is real! I thought, astonished to realize that I had an actual power now—a connection to something, I could actually move the shadows!. I focused intently on the shadow as it moved, a sluggish dance toward me. Then, suddenly, the shadow combusted and, similar to a cloth burning, it transformed into flames—cold black flames that licked at the air as it moved toward me. I could feel my control suddenly change as the fire danced in my palm.
I had this urge and slowly brought the fire to Draeca's blade and watched as the black flames enveloped it, flickering dangerously.
The Minotaur hesitated, its red eyes narrowing in confusion.
I spun Draeca in an arc, the flames following it as I charged toward the creature. The world seemed to slow around me, every detail crystal clear in my only eye. I ducked under the Minotaur's swing, my body moving with a speed and precision that wasn't my own, and slashed upward with Draeca. God's Chiron really was a demon when training, but am I glad he pushed as hard as he did.
The blade sliced through its armor like butter, shadowed flames spilling from the wound like smoke. The creature roared, staggering back, but I was already moving, darting in and out of its range, cutting and slicing, each strike aimed at the weakest points of its frame.
Sparks flew as Draeca tore through metal and wire, severing circuits and cables. The Minotaur thrashed, its movements growing frantic, but I didn't let up. I leapt onto its back, driving my sword into the gap between its shoulder blades, twisting the blade as I channeled more fire into the strike.
"Just die already!" I roared, my voice echoing through the empty street.
And then the Minotaur froze. Shadow and flames billowing inside as it seemed to start burning and rotting the machine.
For a moment, everything was silent. And then, with a groan of metal and a hiss of steam, the beast collapsed, its body crumpling to the ground in a heap of sparking, broken machinery.
I stood over its fallen form, panting, blood still dripping down my face. My eye—a deep, ragged wound across my vision—throbbed painfully, but I ignored it, my gaze fixed on the remains of the Minotaur, it was wreathed in black flames.
The silence ended pretty soon as it began to emit a shrill, piercing whistle. The sound cut through the air, sending shivers down my spine. It started low, almost imperceptible, before rapidly rising in intensity until it was deafening, like a steam engine about to explode. My eyes widened in horror as realization hit me, no it was exactly like that! The damn thing was a machine and it was going to blow.
"Shit!" I spun on my heel and sprinted toward the Vael'theryn, legs pumping furiously as the screeching behind me reached a fever pitch. The ground trembled beneath each of my frantic steps. I could feel the heat swelling behind me, the automaton's core destabilizing. My breath came in ragged gasps as I pushed harder, leaping over scattered debris and ducking past crumbling pillars. I glanced back only once to see the black flames now consuming its entire form, twisting and crackling like a living entity.
The ship was already preparing to leave the dock, Elowen and the strange girl waving urgently as they stood on the deck. With a final burst of speed, I vaulted over the gap between the pier and the ship, hitting the deck with a thud. I scrambled to my feet and shouted, "Set the course for Australia—now!"
Elowen didn't waste a second. She darted to the helm, her fingers flying over the navigation controls as the engines roared to life. The ship lurched forward, cutting through the waves with an urgency I'd never felt before. The ocean breeze whipped at my face, but I couldn't shake the feeling that we weren't moving fast enough. We had just made it a mile out to sea when it happened.
Behind us, a massive, blinding flash of crimson and black erupted from the heart of the Parthenon, swallowing everything in its path. The automaton detonated with the force of a bomb, sending a shockwave tearing through the air. It wasn't just a simple explosion—it was a cataclysm.
The initial blast expanded outward in a fiery dome of black and red, consuming the entire port. It swallowed ships, docks, and buildings in a heartbeat. The ground around the detonation site cracked and split, massive chunks of stone and concrete flying into the air like shrapnel. The shockwave hit the water next, sending towering waves surging outwards, crashing over boats and washing away smaller vessels as if they were mere toys. Flames of midnight black and blood-red danced along the surface of the water, scorching it as if even the sea itself were burning.
The force of the explosion shattered the air with a thunderous roar that reverberated across the city. Glass windows in nearby buildings imploded, their jagged shards spraying into the streets. Entire blocks were leveled as the shockwave swept through, tearing through stone, steel, and concrete as if they were made of paper. Ancient structures, which had stood for centuries, crumbled under the sheer force of the blast, reduced to piles of rubble and dust.
I watched in stunned silence as the once-proud port of Piraeus was transformed into a hellscape. The Parthenon itself, once a majestic symbol of history, now lay in ruins, the temple's columns shattered and scattered like broken matchsticks. Flames of eerie black spread across the shattered remains, licking at the rubble and casting strange, shifting shadows that seemed almost alive. Twisted wrecks of ships smoldered in the harbor, their metal hulls glowing red-hot.
The wind whipped around us as the aftershock reached the Vael'theryn, nearly knocking me off my feet. The ship rocked violently, tossed by the massive waves spawned by the blast. A deafening gust of wind slammed into the vessel, propelling us forward with a sudden, powerful jolt. I clutched the railing, eyes wide as the ship was thrown farther out into the ocean by the force of the explosion. The sails snapped taut, straining against the sudden momentum as we were pushed out to sea like a leaf caught in a gale.
The sky itself seemed to ripple from the intensity of the detonation, dark clouds swirling overhead as if nature were recoiling from the destruction below. Smoke and ash rose in thick, choking plumes, mingling with the crimson glow of the setting sun to paint the sky in hues of blood and shadow. It looked like the very gates of hell had opened up on Earth, a sight so apocalyptic it was hard to believe I was still standing there, still breathing.
"Gods…" I whispered, voice lost in the roar of the wind and waves. "What have I done?"
For a moment, no one moved. Elowen stood frozen at the helm, the girl beside her, their faces pale and eyes wide with disbelief. Then, slowly, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
The port of Piraeus… The place where we'd just been was gone. Reduced to a smoldering crater, nothing more than a memory. The destruction stretched for miles, the once-bustling city now eerily silent, I was so focused on defeating that monster that I had ended up nuking an entire city, I had killed so many innocent lives.
☉☉☉
I leaned against the railing, just thinking about what had happened. After the explosion Elowen and the girl had bandaged and cleaned up my wound. I couldn't get the image out of my head—the city, the ships, the people—everything consumed in that hellish fire I'd unleashed. I gripped the railing until my knuckles turned white, jaw clenched tight. All those lives… All because I couldn't control it.
"Adrian…" Elowen's soft voice drifted over to me, breaking through my thoughts. She placed a gentle hand on my arm. "It's not your fault. You didn't know it would happen."
"How can you say that?" I muttered, voice tight with anger—anger at myself. "I should've done something. I should've been able to control it. Instead, I—"
"You fought to protect us," she insisted, squeezing my arm. "You didn't choose this. You didn't know it would happen like that."
"I still destroyed an entire port!" I snapped, turning away from her. "I—I killed people, Elowen. Innocent people. I—"
"Yeah, you did."
The unexpected voice cut through my rant like a knife. I turned sharply to see the cloaked girl standing a few feet away, her arms crossed as she leaned casually against the mast. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something in her eyes—something calm, steady, that made me falter.
"But it's not like you wanted to, right?" she continued nonchalantly, pushing off the mast and walking toward me. "You were just trying to survive."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at her, the truth of what she was saying slowly sinking in. I didn't want to kill those people. I didn't want to destroy the port. I was… desperate. Desperate to protect Elowen. Desperate to survive. But that didn't make the guilt any less suffocating.
I took a shaky breath, looking back at the sea. "What does that matter? They're still dead."
"Yeah, but so are you, if you keep thinking like that," she said bluntly, shrugging. "You can either wallow in it forever or learn from it and do better next time. Your choice, Vanguard."
I blinked, staring at her in confusion. Vanguard? "How do you know—"
Before I could finish, she pulled back her hood, revealing a cascade of long, silvery hair and… pointed ears. Sharp, elegant, and unmistakably elven. My eyes widened in shock.
"Name's Saphira," she said with a small, almost apologetic smile. "Sorry about the bulls back there. Didn't think they'd get so… explosive."
I shook my head, still reeling. "Wait, you're—an elf?"
"Well, duh," she replied, raising an eyebrow. "What, you've never seen an elf before?"
I opened my mouth to respond but found myself at a loss for words. Elowen stepped forward, recovering first. "It's… nice to meet you, Saphira," she said, her voice careful. "I am Princess Elowen Astra Pendragon, and this is Adrian, my bodyguard and a member of the Vanguard."
"Bodyguard, huh?" Saphira glanced at me with a hint of amusement. "And a Vanguard on top of that? Impressive."
I shifted awkwardly under her gaze, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah, well… more like an aspiring Vanguard. But, um, yeah… What were you even doing in Greece?"
Saphira tilted her head, eyes curious. "I could ask you the same thing. What's a Vanguard and a princess doing in the middle of a crumbling Parthenon?"
Elowen glanced at me, her expression uncertain, before turning back to the elf and squaring her shoulders. "We're here for the trials of the First Empress," she explained. "We're searching for her lost sword."
"Lost sword, huh?" Saphira murmured thoughtfully. Then her gaze shifted to my chest, where the ring hung from its chain. "I assume you mean Excalibur? Seeing as you already have Gram with you."
"What?" I blinked in confusion, glancing down at Draeca. "Do you mean my sword? Hephaestus said it was old, but—"
"Not Draeca," she interrupted, shaking her head. Her finger pointed directly at the small, unassuming ring on my necklace. "That is Gram, the Dawn of Destruction. It's said to be the strongest demonic sword, rivaling only the most powerful holy blade—Excalibur."
I stared at her, completely bewildered. "Wait—are you saying my ring is—?"
She nodded. "Yes. Though you've carried it all this time, it seems you've never known its true nature. Likely because…" Her gaze shifted, eyes narrowing slightly. "You haven't earned its respect yet."
"What do you mean, failed to earn its respect?" I demanded, my fingers brushing against the cool metal of the ring as a surge of panic and confusion bubbled up inside me. The ring had always been there, a constant presence around my neck, but I'd never once thought—
"Somewhere along the way, Gram tested you," Saphira said softly, her voice thoughtful. "And… you simply didn't measure up."
Elowen stepped forward, eyes wide with curiosity. "How do you know all this?" she asked. "Are you a seer?"
Saphira's smile faltered slightly, and she looked away, her gaze distant. "I am no seer, I have lived quite a long time, I may not look it but I am over 300 years old. I… I met the First Empress once. A long, long time ago."
My jaw dropped. "You—met her?"
Saphira nodded slowly. "Yeah. But I was just a kid back then. I don't remember much about her, just… bits and pieces."
"That's incredible," Elowen breathed, leaning forward eagerly. "Please, can you tell us more? Anything you remember could help us—"
"Sorry," Saphira cut her off gently, shaking her head. "Like I said, I don't remember much. It's all fuzzy." She offered an apologetic smile. "But hey, I know enough to say that you two are definitely on the right track."
Elowen looked disappointed, but she nodded slowly. "Still, thank you."
"Yeah, thanks," I added, though I couldn't shake my confusion. Why could I not remember any trial, what had happened when I was younger?
"Don't mention it," she replied with a shrug. Then she glanced around at the rolling waves, the endless expanse of ocean stretching out around us. "So… where to now?"