Apocalypse Tamer

Chapter 121: Man vs Xenia

Pericles once said: “What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others.”

He had missed the mark.

The lives of the ancient Greeks had ended thousands of years ago, yet one couldn’t take two steps into their homeland without stumbling on a monument they’d left behind.

One of the many, many archeological dig sites of the Boeotia region was called Orchomenus. Perhaps it had once been an ancient city of great influence or a temple for long-forgotten gods. Basil couldn’t tell. All that remained of Orchomenus today were dusty ruins, desolate atriums, and ghostly streets of stone. The archeological site mostly occupied a hill overshadowing ruins of a different kind: the crumbling remains of villages wiped out by monsters, raiders, and warbands.

Two of the culprits flew right above the region under the apocalyptic skies.

After confronting Ashok in Shumen, Vasi had collected some broken power armor left behind by his soldiers. Though Basil had been unimpressed beforehand, seeing them in action was something else entirely. There was something mystifying about watching a pair of jetpack-wielding armored hoplites fly among the clouds. If Iron Man had Greek ancestors, they would have looked the same. Their thermal spears and energy shields added a certain primitivo-scifi ‘je ne sais quoi’ to the whole ensemble.

Basil and Plato watched these two run circles above the hill while hidden under a bed of dirt and the cover of invisibility. The rest of the team was spread around Orchomenus, ready to spring an ambush should the enemy patrol detect them. Steve had been the hardest to hide, but as a monster, the Steamobile could benefit from Plato and Vasi’s illusion spells.

“Ready and waiting,” Plato whispered.

“Not now,” Basil whispered back. “We’ll only engage them if they detect us.”

After a few tense and restless minutes, the two mooks above finally retreated south empty-handed. A massive thunderstorm—the manifestation of Ashok’s God-Field—covered the horizon in that direction.

“They’ll be back, you know?” Plato said, his tail wagging in irritation. “It’s the third patrol we’ve avoided so far.”

Unfortunately, he was correct. The Bohens had made as much progress over the last few hours as WWI soldiers moving to take one trench after another.

“We can take them,” Plato suggested. “Easy.”

“We could,” Basil agreed as he exchanged messages with his other allies through the Logs. These patrols were around level fifty. Potentially dangerous with the right setup, but nothing the team couldn’t manage.

“But we won’t?” Plato shrugged. “They won’t have time to raise the alarm if we hit them hard and fast.”

“I’m worried that engaging them at all will broadcast our position,” Basil replied. “These guys aren’t monsters running around at random. They’re professional soldiers following a patrolling schedule. They must be constantly communicating with handlers.”

“Ah, let me guess.” Plato sighed in disappointment. “An absence of an answer will be enough to trigger an alarm?”

“Even if Shellgirl’s amulets prevent Ashok from sensing our essences, I don’t think there’s any way we can approach Athens without being seen.” Basil clenched his teeth. “I guess we’ll have to force our way in.”

Plato licked his paw. “Must we?”

“Do you have a better solution?” Basil shrugged. “‘Cause I’m drawing a blank right now.”

“Of course you do, your human mindset is limited. You think in 3D, we cats hunt in 4D.” Plato smirked smugly. “Hear me out. We have not one, not two, but three armies on speed summoning dial.”

Basil raised an eyebrow. “Yes, we do.”

“So instead of besieging Athens as we first intended, why not split those armies, have them spread around Lightning Butt’s field, and then enter it all at once from different directions?” Plato suggested. “We make Ashok spread his forces while our small, but incredibly competent elite team infiltrates the dungeon.”

“Ashok will immediately suspect the ploy,” Basil pointed out as he received a message from Bugsy.

“Here’s the genius part,” Plato continued while ignoring the messages. “Some of us will follow the armies. Without any protection.”

“Which will let Ashok detect them,” Basil replied as he looked west with his binoculars. Though the golden circuits in the sky troubled his visibility, he was certain no enemy came out of Ashok’s territory. Did Metal Olympus maintain bases as far away as the Ionian Sea?

“Of course he will,” Plato replied with a grin. “But unknown to him, you will sneak close to the dungeon under protection. When Lightning Butt has spread his army around, you teleport us in and we pounce him together. A genius plan, I’m sure you’d agree.”

“It’s a nice one,” Basil replied while studying the western horizon. “Except you failed to account for two things. One, I would need to cross an eighty-five kilometers long distance to Athens undetected. That’s awfully risky, especially without backup.”

“Have more faith in yourself,” Plato chided him. “I believe in you.”

“And two…” Basil sighed. “Faction members can teleport back to their dungeon at will. The moment we’re detected, Ashok will summon reinforcements or evacuate Kalki elsewhere.”

Plato opened his mouth to argue, closed it upon realizing he had no counter to this, and then grumbled in defeat. “Killjoy.”

Basil cursed as he scanned the horizon. He finally noticed the enemy vessel flying under golden lights.

He mistook the shape approaching Orchomenus for a plane until it came closer. Basil should have known the enemy would stick to their antiquity theme. The vehicle approaching their location resembled a Greek galley ship with wide sails and feathered wings instead of oars. Strangely, the hull appeared to be made of reptilian scales rather than metal. Half a dozen winged creatures escorted the vessel like a flock of birds.

Basil squinted behind his binoculars, until he identified an angel among the flyers.

Although he had gained four more wings since they last saw each other, the medical angel Zachariel hadn’t changed much. He still wore the same plague doctor mask and hat as he always had. He had however traded his former yellow clothes for a modern, silvery hazmat suit.

Another familiar face rode a griffin at the angel’s side: a black-haired young girl no older than eight wearing an antiquity-styled Greek tunic. Her gray eyes stared back at Basil with a flash of recognition. She somehow noticed him—without any binoculars—and waved a hand in his direction.

“Little Nessia,” Basil whispered as he lowered his binoculars. “What is she doing here?”

“Wait, isn’t that the oracle girl we met in Bordeaux?” Plato squinted at the horizon as the flying vessel came into sight. “Is she still riding that awful bird?”

What was she doing here on the other side of Europe? Basil had heard Nessia had returned to her world after the second Incursion. From what he had understood, she was some kind of princess in a universe where the Greek gods were still aroun–

“Ah, I see what happened.” Basil opened the map in his Logs and confirmed the presence of an Incursion portal far to the west in the Ionian Sea. “The multiverse is such a small place.”

“It’ll be even smaller soon,” Plato mused. “I’m sure the patrols won’t notice the giant flying ship heading towards their territory’s border.”

Realizing their attempt at sneaking in was now more or less doomed to fail, Basil dropped the invisibility spell and swiped dust off his clothes. His party members emerged from their hiding spots one after another before gathering around him.

“Sir, my dear friends!” Zachariel shook Basil’s hand the moment he landed. “How good to see you again in such good health!”

“Welcome back, Zach!” Bugsy happily greeted his old comrade. “I love your new wings!”

“My, it is all thanks to you,” Zachariel replied with angelic modesty. “The HR department finally approved my promotion to Seraphim after I safely cured the poor citizens of Bucharest. I would never have gained this commer—I mean, charitable opportunity without you.”

“How did you detect us?” Vasi asked with a displeased frown. Her voice brimmed with wounded pride. “I used a Tier IX illusion spell.”

It was Little Nessia who answered her query. “The gods within you spoke and I listened,” she said proudly while her griffin landed. “That’s an oracle’s job!”

Basil could only hope Ashok didn’t have one on his payroll. “I’m glad to see you again, Nessia,” he told the kid with a smile on his face. She might have been annoying sometimes, but Basil had become somewhat fond of her while his party stayed in Bordeaux. “You’ve grown since we last met.”

“Of course I did, I’m nine now!” Nessia grinned happily. “I’m almost as tall as Shellgirl!”

“Only because I shrank,” Shellgirl complained.

“Such is the curse of age,” Vasi joked before patting Nessia on the head. “Have you come to rejoin my coven, little witch?”

“Nah, but Mom said she looks forward to meeting you and she’s a super powerful witch.” Nessia’s smile widened further. “She and Dad couldn’t follow me along, so I came with Aunty.”

Vasi raised an eyebrow. “You have an aunt?”

“Yup,” Nessia confirmed as the flying galley ship landed gracefully next to the Steamobile. Its scaled hull gently slid along the dusty ground and shifted to reveal hundreds of small crab legs. Basil suddenly wondered if the ship was a living creature rather than a vehicle, like Steve. “The bestest in the world.”

“You are too kind Nessia,” a woman’s voice answered as well-behaved minotaur soldiers tossed a wooden bridge over the ship’s ramp. “Though I would appreciate it if you didn’t wander away from the ship in hostile territory.”

A tall human woman in golden hoplite armor climbed down the ship. Basil could have mistaken her for Athena reborn. Her golden irises burned like flames, as did the flaming fork she wielded as a weapon. She was taller than Vasi, as muscled as Basil himself, with a long black braid with strands of gray falling over her shoulder. Though still beautiful in her early forties or so, this warrior lady possessed the hardened gaze of a military veteran.

“You must be the Bohens party Nessia told me so much about.” The woman smiled before offering Basil her hand. “My name is Cassandra.”

“Happy meeting you, Cassandra,” Basil said as he shook her hand. Her grip was as firm and strong as a giant’s. “I’m Basil. Forgive me the question, but are you human?”

“I like to consider myself as such,” Cassandra replied with a chuckle. “What an odd question.”

“I too self-identify as a humanoid,” Vasi joked. “I assume Basil was confused by your absence of classes. This world’s System assigns them to humans, but you appear to lack one.”

“I have gained powers unlike most mortals,” Cassandra confessed as she released Basil’s hand. “I suspect your System cannot properly represent them as classes, so it treats me as a monster.”

“You might as well be if you’re related to this gremlin,” Plato mused, his paw pointed at Nessia.

In a magnificent display of maturity, Nessia stuck her tongue at the amused feline in return. Her aunt, however, completely missed the reference. “I am not familiar with the term.”

“I meant it as a compliment,” Plato lied.

“I do not believe you,” Cassandra replied. Her eyes wandered to Basil’s halberd and squinted thoughtfully at it. “Does… does this artifact host the soul of Hades?”

“I’m surprised you could tell,” Basil replied. “Do you possess a godly essence, like your niece?”

“No, not quite. I am, however, a priestess of Queen Persephone.” Cassandra scowled. “Hades did not survive in our world, so to sense his presence inside your weapon… I know this is not our Hades, but to carry him around like this… it feels disrespectful.”

“He wanted this, Aunt Cass,” Little Nessia replied. “I can sense his will. Lord Pluto says his wielder’s thoughts are those of justice.”

Basil took it as a compliment. He might not have been a paladin, but receiving a god’s approval—even a pagan one—made for a nice consolation prize.

“Lord Pluto?” Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “I thought only the Lyceans called Lord Hades as such.”

“How were gods in your world?” Vasi asked with a curious look.

“Awful, for the most part,” Cassandra replied with a snort. “So awful that they were overthrown and new ones rose to replace them. Queen Persephone and Lord Hades were one of the few exceptions.”

Basil immediately pounced on the opportunity to save their souls. “Have you heard of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ?”

“No, I haven’t.” Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “What is he the god of?”

“Everything,” Basil replied kindly. “He died for our sins.”

“But he came back three days later,” Rosemarine added, having done her catechism. “At the end of the world, he will throw all evildoers into a lake of fire to burn for all eternity!”

“If he is god of everything, isn’t he overworked?” Unfortunately, Cassandra appeared more confused than convinced. “And if your god is dead, how can you worship him? Is he an undead?”

“We do have an undead goddess on Outremonde,” Zachariel thought it wise to add. “So yes, it is entirely possible.”

“I would be happy to discuss theology another time, but we have more pressing matters to discuss.” Cassandra shrugged and moved on. “I have been informed by our allies in this world that you intended to confront the source of these Incursions. My king, His Majesty Kairos, would like to offer his support.”

“I told you Dad would send an army to protect me,” Nessia boasted. She smugly looked down at Plato. “Can you say the same, mean cat?”

“I do not need an army,” Plato replied proudly. “I have a Rosemarine.”

“I burn houses while people are still inside them,” Rosemarine added kindly. “Then I use the ashes to plant trees that will feed orphans.”

“We appreciate all the help,” Basil said courteously. “Though I admit I’m a bit surprised. Last time we met Nessia, she said her father would focus on closing portals rather than send forces to Earth.”

“As it turns out, one will require the other.” Cassandra put a hand on her waist. “Each time an Incursion takes place, the more the pathways between our worlds and yours strengthen. Every new portal requires less energy than the last. Moreover, our mages noticed a worrying anomaly.”

Basil frowned. As if the situation couldn’t get any worse. “What kind?”

“The portal works both ways when it does not have to,” Cassandra explained. “Additionally, they weaken our own protections as much as they lower this world’s.”

“Seems natural to me,” Basil pointed out.

“It’s not, Handsome.” His girlfriend shook her head. “The whole point of Incursions is to bring in new souls to fuel the Trimurti System.”

“Now that you say that, Vasi, it is odd indeed.” Shellgirl crossed her arms, a thoughtful expression on her face. “The first rule of economic development is to prevent capital flights. Make it easy to put cash in, and hard to get it out.”

“It could be just Maxwell covering his rear,” Bugsy suggested. “I mean, I’m not a coward, but if I were… I would prepare multiple escape routes too.”

“Could be,” Basil conceded. “Or he needs to make the portals two way to form one at all.”

“Our mages believe otherwise,” Cassandra replied. “According to them, your world’s System uses Incursions as a mechanism to durably interlock with ours.”

“To what end?” Vasi asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Cassandra admitted. “But we would rather stop the process before we find the answer.”

“Mom says it’s causing some of her spells to go haywire,” Little Nessia added with a firm nod. “She stayed behind to investigate. Dad would have come too, but the barrier won’t let him through.”

Basil blinked in shock. “He’s over level eighty-five?”

“Worse.” Cassandra chuckled. “He’s a god, so he cannot leave our world at all.”

She said that so casually that Basil instantly believed her. By now, it sounded about as credible a statement as gravity pulling things down.

Vasi scoffed and exchanged a knowing glance with her boyfriend. “Looks like deities are more common than I thought,” she said with a grin. “You’re sure you don’t have a god somewhere in your ancestry too, Handsome?”

“Maybe you descend from this Jesus Christ?” Little Nessia suggested innocently.

“That seems unlikely,” Basil replied with a deadpan tone.

“Didn’t he have a child with a prostitute?” Shellgirl asked. “I read it in a bo–”

Basil gave her such a potent glare that she dared not mention the heretical text further.

One of the good things about the apocalypse is that Dan Brown is almost certainly dead, Basil thought while struggling to keep a calm face. I hope so. I dearly hope so.

“You actually remind me of our king, Lord Basil.” From the way Cassandra said it, it must have been the highest of compliments. “From what I heard, your ascension was even faster than his. His was counted in years, yours in months.”

Basil looked away. “I hope your king didn’t pay the price I did.”

Sensing he wasn’t in the mood to elaborate, Cassandra diplomatically changed the subject. “The frontiers between worlds are now so porous that our diviners can now scry on other neighborhood worlds and exchange messages with locals,” she explained. “We are currently coordinating with General Leblanc, Lord Simeon, and King Braniño to provide you with military support. Hopefully, we can rescue this ‘Avatar’ and settle things once and for all.”

“I do not support an alliance with Maure Hellcorporated, I might add,” Zachariel said with a snort. “Their CEO is not to be trusted.”

“Sorry, Zach.” Vasi smiled sheepishly. “I hope you don’t mind the fact I’m related to him.”

“So is his sister, who is our world’s second-most celebrated Paladin,” Zachariel replied. “If anything, I see it as proof that the healthiest bastions of good can spring even from the most diseased demonic stock.”

Basil crossed his arms. “All troops are welcomed, but I’m afraid numbers might be a detriment rather than an advantage in this case. Metal Olympus keeps our ally hostage in a fortress eighty kilometers from here. Approaching it will be a challenge; infiltrating it is likely impossible.”

“Don’t you know, Basil?” Little Nessia grinned wickedly. “If you pray for a miracle, sometimes the gods answer.”

Basil opened his mouth to joke that the Lord had yet to send him one, before suddenly realizing this troupe included a goddamn angel.

“We have done our research,” Cassandra explained. “Metal Olympus stole their power from the gods of this land. They think it is the source of their strength. We believe it will be their downfall.”

“The gods within you all are angry,” Little Nessia added with a dark, terrible scowl. “They were enslaved by greedy mortals and want revenge. They will help us.”

Could it be? Basil’s heart shone with hope. “After hubris, comes nemesis?”

Cassandra nodded sharply, much to his delight. “I am not certain if things work the same in your world,” she said, “But in ours, gods with a similar nature and objectives form alliances called Pantheons.”josei

“You mean Guilds?” Shellgirl asked.

“In a way. A Pantheon connects its members, helps prevent infighting, and lets these deities summon help in a pinch.”

“So like a Guild,”Basil confirmed. “The Greco-Roman gods of Metal Olympus belong to the same pantheon. Benjamin mentioned Ashok wished for the power of Indra, but it was simply easier to call essences from the same mythology.”

Vasi’s eyes widened as she put two and two together. “The essences are still connected. That’s how Ashok can sense ours.”

“They are,” Zachariel confirmed. “Additionally, the enemy has turned a center of the Olympians’ faith into his lair. This created a very powerful spiritual connection we can exploit.”

“You thought you would have to invade this Parthenon,” Cassandra told Basil. “We believe we can be invited instead.”

The more he heard, the more pleased Basil became. “Forgive me if I have forgotten my mythology, but wasn’t Zeus the god of hospitality?”

“We call it Xenia,” Little Nessia corrected him with a wicked grin. “Shall we pay him homage in person?”

Ashok was about to learn the meaning of divine punishment.