Reaching the outskirts of Argos, the group dismounted and rushed to Perseus' side. "Looks like we got here just in time," Diomedes remarked grimly, nodding at the terrifying forces marching toward them.
"You're late," Perseus replied with a determined smile, though his gaze remained fixed on the advancing horde.
Together, they stood as one, preparing to face Hades and the army of the damned in the ultimate battle for Argos.
The battlefield was chaos incarnate, a storm of steel and shadow. The horde of Hades poured from the gates of the underworld, bringing death and despair to the defenders of Argos. Skeletons with rusted weapons clashed against shields, harpies shrieked as they dived upon terrified soldiers, and cursed souls spread a suffocating aura that drained the strength of the living.
Among the chaos, Diomedes stood tall, his sword gripped tightly. Fear gnawed at the edges of his resolve, but he suppressed it. This is my home now, he thought, looking at the soldiers fighting and dying around him. And I'll fight for it.
King Cepheus raised his blade, rallying his troops. "Men of Argos, to me! Drive them back!"
With a roar, the army charged.
Diomedes surged forward, abandoning his facade of normalcy. A skeleton lunged at him, its jagged sword aimed for his chest. Diomedes sidestepped, bringing his blade down with the strength of a one-ton hammer. The skeleton shattered into fragments, its bones scattering across the ground.
Nearby, a hellhound lunged at a wounded soldier. Diomedes intercepted it, grabbing the beast by its throat. He hurled it into a group of advancing skeletons, crushing them under its weight.
Perseus fought beside him, his celestial sword glowing with divine energy. Each swing of his blade sent enemies crumbling, but even he was beginning to tire.
"Diomedes," Perseus shouted, cleaving through a harpy. "They keep coming!"
"Then we keep fighting!" Diomedes growled, cutting down two more skeletons with a single swing.
The ground shook as harpies and stymphalian birds descended from above. Diomedes leapt into the air with inhuman speed, slashing through their ranks. Feathers and black blood rained down as he landed, pivoting to confront another wave.
Despite their valor, the soldiers of Argos were overwhelmed. Harpies tore through formations, and skeletons hacked apart shield walls. The cursed aura of Hades drained their strength, causing many to fall before they could strike.
Draco, wounded but unrelenting, bellowed orders. "Hold the line! Protect the king!"
King Cepheus fought at the forefront, his blade flashing as he cut through the horde. Blood streaked his armor, but he did not waver. "For Argos!" he roared, inspiring his men to fight on.
The citizens of Argos had fled to the palace, their terrified screams echoing through the city. The soldiers knew they were all that stood between the horde and total annihilation.
From a swirling vortex of smoke, Hades materialized in the midst of the chaos. His dark robes billowed around him, and his eyes burned with hatred.
Perseus and Diomedes turned to face the god, bloodied but resolute.
"You fight well," Hades said, his voice dripping with disdain. "But your efforts are futile. Argos will fall, and its people will join my realm, I will enjoy stripping your flesh off your body with my blade"
Diomedes stepped forward, his blade steady despite his wounds. "We'll see about that."
Hades raised his hand, unleashing a wave of black energy. Diomedes leapt aside as the blast obliterated the ground where he had stood. Perseus charged, his sword cutting through the dark magic surrounding the god.
Hades deflected his attacks effortlessly, swatting Perseus aside with his staff.
"You are strong, Perseus," Hades mocked. "But strength alone will not save you."
Diomedes attacked, his strikes swift and precise. Hades blocked each blow, but the force caused him to stagger.
"You're strong for a mortal," Hades admitted, his eyes narrowing. "But not strong enough."
As Hades blasted Diomedes backward, Perseus struggled to rise, blood dripping from his wounds. His sword felt impossibly heavy, and despair began to creep into his heart.
Then, a voice echoed in his mind, calm yet commanding. Embrace your heritage, Perseus. Accept who you are.
Perseus closed his eyes, reaching inward. He felt the divine spark of Zeus ignite within him, a surge of power filling his battered body.
Lightning crackled across the sky as Perseus rose, his eyes glowing with celestial light. He raised his hand, summoning a massive bolt of lightning that struck Hades directly. The god roared in pain, his dark aura flickering.
Rejuvenated, Perseus joined Diomedes once more. The two warriors fought with relentless determination. Diomedes attacked with brute strength, his sword shattering Hades' defenses. Perseus moved like a storm, each strike of his blade imbued with divine energy.
Hades fought back ferociously, summoning waves of dark magic and striking with his staff. But for every blow he landed, the two warriors retaliated with greater force.
Diomedes landed a devastating strike to Hades' side, while Perseus drove his sword into the god's shoulder. Hades staggered, his form flickering as the energy sustaining him began to waver.
"You will not defeat me!" Hades roared, unleashing a final burst of energy.
Perseus and Diomedes pressed forward, their combined strength overwhelming the god. Perseus raised his sword high, calling down another lightning strike that sent Hades to his knees.
Diomedes delivered the final blow, severing the dark chains that bound Hades to the mortal plane.
With a scream of rage, Hades dissolved into shadow, pulled back into the underworld.
As the battlefield fell silent, the remaining monsters crumbled into ash. The soldiers of Argos stared in disbelief, realizing they had won.
Perseus and Diomedes stood side by side, bloodied but victorious.
"It's over," Diomedes said, lowering his sword.
Together, they turned to rally the surviving soldiers.
_______________________________________
The evening air in Argos carried a strange mix of tension and relief. The battle had ended, but the city bore scars—burned structures, shattered streets, and grieving families. Diomedes walked through the remnants of the city, his steps slow and deliberate. He was exhausted, his body aching from countless blows.
Arriving at Archillaus' inn, which miraculously remained untouched, Diomedes couldn't help but smirk at his luck. Pushing open the wooden door, he was greeted by the familiar scent of ale and roasted meat. The inn was quieter than usual, but as he entered, the warmth of the hearth and the murmur of patrons offered a small respite from the horrors of the day.
Archillaus, a fat and short man with a booming laugh and a perpetually grease-stained apron, noticed him immediately. "By the gods, Diomedes!" he exclaimed, wiping his hands on a rag. "You look like you wrestled a hydra in a mud pit!"
Diomedes chuckled, sliding onto a stool at the bar. "Close enough. I was defending Argos."
Archillaus raised an eyebrow. "Defending Argos, were you? And where were you hiding when Hades himself came knocking?"
The merchant leaned in with mock suspicion.
"Not hiding," Diomedes replied dryly. "I was out there, fighting alongside the army." He gestured to the gashes and bruises covering his arms.
Archillaus snorted, pouring him a mug of ale. "Well, I was hiding—like any sane merchant. But you're alive, so you must've done something right."
As the night wore on, the inn began to fill. Familiar faces and strangers alike shuffled in, seeking refuge in drink and camaraderie. The conversation turned to the battle, whispers of Hades' fury and Perseus' heroics spreading through the room.
The patrons, perhaps trying to mask their lingering fear, soon shifted to telling jokes—corny, drunken quips that brought light laughter.
Diomedes leaned back, sipping his ale and observing the scene. For the first time in hours, he allowed himself to relax, chuckling quietly at the banter around him.
Soon sleep came, the sweet release of sleep, dulled the pain and aches of his body.
As consciousness wane, he placed his head on a table.
Briefly contemplating his previous life, wondering what could be happening on earth. Diomedes would probably not be able to return.
He soon became dizzy, he dozed off.
________________________________________
Meanwhile, back at the palace, the atmosphere was more subdued yet filled with a quiet sense of triumph. In the throne room, King Cepheus sat with Commander Draco, his remaining three soldiers, Perseus, and Io. The room's air was heavy with the memory of those lost, but also with gratitude for those who remained.
The king smiled warmly at Perseus and Io. "You have done more for Argos than any could have hoped. Tomorrow, we will hold a grand feast to commemorate this triumph. The fallen will be honored, and the living will be rewarded."
Perseus inclined his head, his exhaustion evident, but he remained respectful. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
Cepheus stood, placing a hand on Perseus' shoulder. "You deserve rest, my boy. Sleep well tonight. Tomorrow, Argos will celebrate its heroes."
Perseus nodded, his gaze briefly flicking to Io. Together, they left the throne room, leaving the king and his men to plan the coming feast.