The monstrous armada sailed on the calm spring sea, carried forward by a holy wind.

Flying at the forefront of his new griffin rider company, King Kairos of Travia looked down on his fleet as it engaged in complex naval maneuvers. A hundred ships from mighty galleys to troop transports adopted tight formations, circled around imaginary battle lines, and sailed towards a barren island. The sea glittered under the midday sun, the shadow of monsters swimming beneath the waves.

This fleet was less than a quarter of the forces under his command, but would be the backbone of his entire armada. Lycean and Travian vessels formed the bulk of his navy alongside a few Achlysian mercenary witch-ships, but it was the monstrous flotilla that Kairos was the most proud of.

None of these twenty living vessels looked alike; some were covered in scales and others in feathers, with fin-like masts or fanged prows. Although commanded by a crew, these creatures could function and fight on their own.

The Foresight, the only flying ship in the armada and Kairos’ personal vessel, floated above its kindred like a protective hawk. Agron’s Bridgeburner led the squadron, its hull covered in thick black scales and its ram simmering with flames as it traveled on the waves. The minotaur had been the first to let his ship be transformed and steadily fed it with the remains of fire-breathing creatures.

The fleet’s vice-admiral, Cassandra, had declined to turn her Rhadamanthe galley into a monstrous one. Although powerful, these empowered vessels risked destruction if Kairos perished in battle and Cass didn’t want to rely entirely on them. The monstrous flotilla would serve better as an elite force performing difficult operations beyond that of normal ships.

“Diekplous formation!” Kairos shouted, his [Speech] Skill empowering his voice and letting it cut through the wind and the noise of water. The sailors heard the words translated in their own native tongue, and even the mounts of the griffin corps tilted their heads in his direction. “Then circle defense!”

Although a hundred vessels sailed, they all seemed to work as one like a swarm of insects, adopting formations such as spinning circles, tight phalanxes, or widening their battle lines to avoid training mines left in the water. Military exercises of this magnitude were common in the Lycean Republic, but unheard of in Travia. Though most of his homeland had declared for him, Kairos knew they were an army of individuals that needed training to become a cohesive fighting force.

Thanks to his new abilities, what should have been months of drills turned into mere days.

Months had passed since his ascension to [Demigod], and Kairos hadn’t wasted time. After upgrading his [Charisma] to A+, he had heavily invested in his Skills. As he had long suspected, the growth in power between ranks was exponential.

He had barely noticed the changes in his information-based Skills like [Observer], [Turncoat], or [Magical Knack], as they simply allowed him to fool or identify the work of [Demigods], but the others… The [Leadership] upgrade inspired zeal and cohesion in his troops, and [Seamanship] gave the sailors under his command an intuitive understanding of navigation and maritime hazards. The human error had all but been erased from his army, individual ships moving like pieces on a strategy game board.

Kairos wondered if General Zama’s army behaved the same way. It was probably a terrifying experience to fight an army whose soldiers coordinated like a well-oiled machine. When two of these forces clashed, only the brilliance of their commanders could determine the victor.

The Olympic Games should be long over now, Kairos thought as his fleet moved towards the island for a mock landfall drill. I will hear from Zama and Mithridates soon enough.

And he had the feeling that it would be bad news.

The navy prepared to make landfall on the island, only for undead creatures to rise to its defense. Skeletal warriors emerged from the beaches’ sand, while ghostly daemons and elementals materialized in the skies.

Andromache’s mentor, the Gorgon Euryale, had raised this mindless army specifically for the purpose of the military drill according to the design of Kairos’ generals. In fact, the entire island had been prepared to serve as a training ground for the future invasion of the Thessalan League. After taking the shore and making landfall, the living army would fight to capture a flag hidden inside a heavily defended fortress. Squads and crews would be evaluated according to their performance afterward.

Kairos’ upgraded [Raider] Skill should have stricken the undead dummies with [Terror] and his [Avianship] prevented flying creatures from attacking him at all, but elementals and daemons swarmed him without faltering. Most of my leadership Skills are mental effects, the king thought. As I suspected, they won’t affect the mindless or the truly strong-willed.

Human armies would falter before him, but the city-state of Thessala had tens of thousands of mindless automatons in its employ. Even though they were rivals of Kairos’ nemesis Mithridates, both would try to conquer it for its resources.

“[Invisibility],” Kairos said as he activated his spell. He and his mount Rook became as transparent as the wind, and the effect quickly spread to the entire griffin corp. Every member of the flying squadron within sixty meters of the king turned invisible. Coordinating under these conditions would have been a nightmare, but their leader’s abilities allowed them to intuitively sense each other’s presence.

Although the summoned creatures could fight them, they were no match for their might. Kairos' golden spear tore through incorporeal ghosts and wind elementals alike, the tip of his weapon shining with the power of the sun itself; so did Rook’s talons.

The king’s spear didn’t miss—couldn’t miss—and his [Heartseeker] Skill severed the anchor binding the undead to the living world. Everywhere around Kairos elementals vanished, torn apart by invisible griffin riders. The ‘battle’ lasted less than a minute.

The undead on the ground didn’t fare any better. Monstrous ships landed on the beach and opened their maw-like prows, unleashing human beastmasters and poisonous, many-headed serpents the size of lions. These newly hatched Hydralisks had been trained since infancy, and though they had proved too willful to be mounted, they could follow basic orders. Their poisonous jaws broke bones and turned them brittle, while swords turned to rust as they touched their scales. By the time human troops landed, the beasts had cleared the beach of all opposition.

Flawless victory.

“This war will be a piece of cake,” Rook said as Kairos lifted the [Invisibility] effect, the griffin’s golden feathers glittering in the sunlight.

“If only all of Mithridates’ soldiers were as fragile,” Kairos replied with a smirk as his troops established a perimeter on the beach. After so many naval drills, his men were probably half-fish themselves.

But though his men performed admirably well, living soldiers under skilled generals would prove far more dangerous than mindless dummies.

“I wonder if we could keep his dragon after slaying him,” Kairos said half-jokingly.

His griffin looked at him anxiously. “Don’t you dare replace me with a scalie!” he protested. “Dragons are prestigious, but I have feathers!”

“I guess we’ll feed its remains to the Foresight then,” Kairos replied before noticing a flying form on the horizon. He briefly wondered if he had attracted the attention of a local monster again, until his eyes distinguished the shape of a familiar Stymphalian Bird. “Horace?”

The metallic bird flew in Kairos’ direction, breathing so loudly that the Travian King wondered if he would fall from exhaustion. Had he traveled all the way from the capital of Histria to this rock?

“King Kairos…” Horace rasped as he tried to gather his breath. “King Kairos…”

“What’s happening?” the king asked as he extended his arm, letting the Stymphalian Bird land on it. Horace’s tone immediately put him on edge, and other members of the griffin corp gathered around him. “Is the capital under attack?”

“No… no…” Horace let out a sigh. “It’s your wife, King Kairos! Queen Julia, she’s…”

Kairos’ eyes widened in shock, while Rook squealed in happiness. “Right now?” the king asked as he started to panic. “But I was told it wouldn’t happen until next month at the earliest!”

“Premature… Lady Andromache said it was premature,” Horace answered, his eyes shining with greed. “I flew as fast as I could… I was told I would get paid extra.”

Premature. The word shook Kairos to his core, and he entirely forgot about the naval drill as he processed the news. Premature… as in complications?

“We have to go, Kairos!” Rook said with enthusiasm. “I can make it in time!”

No way Kairos would miss that day. “I need to return to Histria immediately to deal with a national emergency,” the king told his fellow griffin riders. “Cassandra is in charge of the drill. Tell her to feed Horace.”

“Don’t forget… the shinies, twoleg,” the bird said as he took flight again.

“Yes sir,” a griffin rider commander answered with a military salute. “We will take care of everything in your absence.”

With a final nod, Kairos set flight for his capital. Commanding the winds with his magical spear, he let a powerful gale push his griffin forward and left his armada behind. Though they immediately lost their supernatural cohesion, his soldiers were completing the landfall drill by the time Kairos lost sight of them.

Rook flew as fast as he could, far faster than any normal griffin. The monster and his rider became a blur in the skies, moving as swiftly as the wind that carried them forward. Hours passed as the sun descended and the coasts of the island of Histria appeared beyond the horizon.

Kairos’ capital had grown over the last seasons, becoming a bustling city worthy of his newborn Travian federation. Stone had replaced the mud and wood, while hydras, manticores, and chimeras stood watch over its gates alongside humans and minotaurs. A large fleet of hundreds of galleys protected its harbor while sea monsters patrolled the waters, awaiting the order to sail to the Thessalan League and conquer it. Men and beasts saluted their king as they saw him and Rook soar through the skies above them the same way worshipers bowed before a god.

And they prayed to him as one too.

“Heal me, King Kairos…” “Praise the Griffin King, Slayer of Suns…” “King Kairos, please grant me strength…” and the ever-popular, “King Kairos, please fuck me…”

The words echoed in the back of his mind like distant whispers. Ever since he had become a [Demigod], Kairos’ cult had grown exponentially… and with faith came power. I still can’t believe I have [Priests] now, the king thought as Rook made his way to their fortress’ rookery, and that a fifth of all prayers aimed my way are about sex or relationship advice.

Julia had laughed when he told her that, and Andromache had asked for names. Not that Kairos ever intended to grant those prayers. Is that what people only think of? Sex? The King wondered in disappointment. Or are my [Charisma] and Skills influencing them even from a distance?

By the time Rook landed inside his rookery at the castle’s top, Kairos could already hear his wife’s screams through the walls. His blood boiled in his veins and his fingers trembled with an emotion he couldn’t describe: half excitement, half fear.

It’s one month too early, he thought while gritting his teeth. Was Julia facing complications? Kairos was a wolfling on his mother’s side and his wife a full werewolf, so their child was bound to inherit the curse. The horrible image of a wolf tearing its way through Julia’s womb flashed in Kairos’ mind, turning his skin pale as a corpse. No, it’s just in my mind. The curse only manifests after puberty.

“It’s too soon,” Kairos muttered to himself as he met with the elite guards protecting his palace. Their eyes peered through faceless magical helmets that their king had crafted himself, dispelling all illusions. “Where is she?”

“In your bedroom, Your Majesty,” one of the guards answered with a military salute. “Your esteemed mother and Lady Andromache took her there.”

It’s too soon to become a father, Kairos thought as he walked inside the fortress with Rook in tow. None dared to stop him.

He quickly made his way to his bedroom, finding his brother-in-law Sertorius sitting next to the closed door and reading a scroll. The family hellhound, the cerberi Spot, waited at the threshold like a good guard dog. His three heads delighted at Kairos’ appearance, before turning suspicious.

“Young master doesn't smell like young master!” the cerberi growled while showing his teeth. “Spot will let no assassin through!”

“Calm down, Spot, it’s me,” Kairos whispered to the hound, an expression of serenity forming on his three heads. The king’s [Beast Tongue] compelled beasts with lower [Charisma] to obey his orders even when they didn’t want to. “It’s normal. I don’t have a smell anymore since I improved [Sneak].”

“Oh, alright,” Spot replied while sitting. “Spot just wanted to protect the mistress.”

“And you did well,” Kairos reassured him. He couldn’t blame the cerberi for his distrust; he had already caught a shapeshifting assassin trying to sneak into the palace last month while disguised as Cassandra. First the daggers in the dark, then the swords in the light…

“You put professional assassins to shame,” Sertorius noted as he raised his eyes from his scroll. Unlike his brother-in-law, the Lycean judge was as quiet and still as a stone. “If only our hired daggers were half as competent as you.”

“Now is not the time to discuss that,” Kairos replied, his jaw clenching as he looked at his bedroom’s door. His wife screamed in agony beyond the threshold. “Why are you waiting outside?”

“Your concubine threw me out,” Sertorius said while looking back at his scroll, even as his sister’s screams only grew louder. “Caenis said there were complications and they didn’t need ‘distractions.’”

A shiver went down Kairos’ spine. “What kind of complications?”

“I don’t know yet. My sister’s life shouldn’t be in danger though.”

“How can you be so calm?” Kairos snapped angrily. “She could die.”

“She won’t. Julia is stronger than that and she is in the best of care.” Sertorius sighed. “Kairos, this is out of our hands and there is nothing we can do to affect the outcome. You need to let it go and put your trust in your family.”

Kairos put his spear aside and crossed his arms. “We should be inside with them.”

“Damn straight we should,” Rook said while wagging his tail. “I want to see my nephew! I’ll spoil him rotten the moment he’s born!”

“It could be a niece,” Spot replied. “Spot loves little girls. They always give him treats!”

“Do we know my child’s gender yet?” Kairos asked his brother-in-law.

“No,” Sertorius replied. “But I hope it’s a boy.”

Just as I prayed for a girl, Kairos thought grimly. As a member of the Senex, the judge needed a male heir to take up his duties and maintain the seal binding the wolf-god Lycaon. A nephew would work as well as a son… which would make Kairos’ child a target.

“What about your wife?” the Travian King asked his brother-in-law. “She will join us with Dispater’s fleet, won’t she? Are you expecting a child too?”

Sertorius’ jaw clenched, the first sign of emotion Kairos had seen on his face today. “I do everything a man can, to no avail. Whether the fault is in the seed or the soil, I can’t say. I wouldn’t mind borrowing your [Golden Fleece] before our campaign.”

“Sure,” Kairos replied. His artifact’s fertility powers had done wonders for him. The screams were dying down beyond the door, the king hearing his mother’s whispers as she told Julia to push. “Any news on that front? How did the Olympic Games go?”

Sertorius answered by handing Kairos his scroll. The Travian King’s eyes squinted as he read the report. “When did it happen?” he asked, his fingers trembling.

“Two days ago,” Sertorius explained as he put his hands behind his back. “Thessala was inhabited by a quarter of a million occupants, if we don’t count the automatons and foreign delegations attending the Olympic Games. Less than one out of ten survived its destruction.”

A whole city sunk in less than an hour, Kairos thought, as he remembered his own cataclysmic raid against the mermaid capital of Orichalcos. He had launched that attack specifically to prevent the city’s rulers from making use of a piece of Poseidon’s trident to attack the surface… only for Mithridates to develop his own superweapon.

“So Julia’s intel was correct,” Kairos whispered as he kept reading. “Mithridates built a warship powered by a shard of Poseidon’s trident.”

One with the ability to summon tsunamis and colossal tidal waves. A great beast with oaken scales, sailing a sea of poison. A calamity forewarned by prophecies.

“They call it the Thalassocrator,” Sertorius confirmed. “It’s at least four times larger than a normal warship, and big enough to serve as a mobile platform for Mithridates’ dragon and griffin riders. It doesn’t seem to have a great range, but it can sink entire islands.”

And from what the report said, Mithridates hadn’t wasted any time threatening other Thessalan cities to fall in line with his new regime or face destruction. The Thessalan Empire, Kairos read. However, it was another declaration that put the Travian King on edge.

“Is this confirmed?” he asked with a frown. “Has Mithridates become a [Demigod]?”

Sertorius’ stoic expression turned into a look of concern. “Yes,” he admitted. “He will be more than a match for you now.”

The Poison Emperor and the Sunslayer King, Kairos thought. In a way, his journey and Mithridates’ mirrored each other. One would inevitably slay the other.

But unlike Mithridates, I fight for others, Kairos thought as he glanced at his bedroom’s door and remembered the death of the child-prince Critias, poisoned at a banquet by Mithridates. I will not let you harm my children the way you murdered that boy, king of the rogues.

“Talos did nothing?” Kairos asked. The first automaton was a [Demigod] bound to defend the city of Thessala from invaders. Yet according to the report, he and his machine army watched the disaster from the safety of their forge-cradle. “Why? Did Mithridates bribe him?”

“Not all [Demigods] are beyond monetary concerns, but Talos was bound by powerful oaths,” Sertorius replied. “The truth is darker. My spies inform me that Mithridates found an artifact capable of controlling Talos, and through him, his creations.”

Kairos froze. “Thales…”

“I had soldiers put him under house arrest for the moment. He did not resist.”

Although he had fled his homeland and rebelled against his purpose, Thales the Promethean was one of Talos’ creations. If Mithridates could control his maker, he might have a way to influence him. And besides being a friend, Thales was one of the [Heroes] of Histria. Him falling under an enemy’s influence would be a disastrous blow to their war effort.

If Talos was under Mithridates’ control, then it meant that Kairos’ enemies included three [Demigods] among their ranks. The third member of the Thessalan triad, General Zama, had already launched an offensive against pro-Lycean towns having voiced their intention to leave the alliance.

And in turn, these cities had asked the Lycean Republic and their Travian allies for help.

“War,” Kairos whispered as he returned the scroll to his brother-in-law. “It’s finally happening.”

“As we planned,” Sertorius replied coldly. “I would say our forces are numerically superior for now, but the longer Talos’ Cradle remains operational, the more the gap will close. At the height of Thessala’s wars with Vali, the cradle produced over five thousand soldier automatons each month; if Mithridates fuels it with his own city’s extensive mineral resources, he could potentially increase that amount and produce an army every turn of the moon.”

“And he has more demigods than we do.” Kairos was well-placed to know [Demigods] were each worth an army. “I’ll call upon my [Pantheon] for help.”

“And Dispater secured an alliance with a Lycean [Demigod],” Sertorius replied. “He should arrive with the new reinforcements. Afterward, we will adapt our strategy according to our new information and set sail for this so-called ‘Thessalan Empire’ to liberate our allied cities.”

“To conquer them,” Kairos replied while Rook looked at the door with excitement. Julia’s screams had grown worryingly quiet. “Let’s not disguise the truth with pretty words.”

Sertorius raised an eyebrow. “Do you have regrets?”

“No,” Kairos replied quickly. He had thrown the dice long ago; he couldn’t leave the gambling table now without losing everything. “My people need the land and wealth of the Thessalan League.”

“Our people, Kairos,” his brother-in-law replied. “One day Travians, Lyceans, and Thessalans will become a single civilization without walls keeping them apart.”

“One civilization ruled by one family?” Kairos asked.

Sertorius rarely smiled with his mouth, but he couldn’t disguise the brief glint of cold jubilation in his eyes.

Kairos couldn’t blame his brother-in-law for being ambitious. The Travian King had dreamed and worked to make his desires a reality. Whether Sertorius would burn reaching out for the sun like Icarus or gore it with a spear the same way Kairos did, he was family. They would stick together to the bitter end.

The door finally opened, revealing the tired face of Kairos’ mother Aurelia. “Son,” she said, sweat dripping from her forehead and gray hair. “Come see your children.”

Kairos’ heart skipped a beat. “Children?”

“Children,” his mother confirmed before leading the men inside the bedroom and delivering the news. “Julia bore twins.”

Twins.

The word echoed in Kairos’ mind, half a curse and half a blessing.

“A clutch!" Rook rejoiced as he followed with a curious Spot. “Perfect! Spot, we can spoil one each!”

“Maybe there’s three of them?” Spot asked, his heads all desiring their own little baby to take care of.

Kairos said nothing as he walked inside his quarters, finding Julia laying on the bloody marital bed. The room smelled terrible, both from the blood and bodily waste. His wife’s face was as red as her hair, and a blanket covered her legs. A heavily pregnant Andromache peeked underneath while whispering magical words. “Push, wolfling,” the nymph said, “I see the head.”

By now, Kairos had clenched his fists so tightly that his nails had drawn blood by sinking into his skin. His first instinct was to rush to his wife’s side, only for his eyes to wander to another woman in the room.

Caenis sat on a chair next to the bed, carrying a small child in her hands.

The newborn was so small Kairos had almost missed it. Caenis had wrapped it in cloth and whispered words into its ear, the remains of an umbilical cord left on a table nearby. And when the child opened its mouth to cry and scream, nothing else mattered.

Mithridates, Lycaon, Lyce, and Travia no longer occupied Kairos’ mind. He only had eyes for that small, wonderful creature that he had helped bring into the world.

“It’s a girl, Your Majesty,” Caenis said with a warm smile.

A daughter, Kairos thought as he looked at the child, a strange warmth filling his innards. My daughter. “Caenis, can I…”

Caenis nodded softly, and Kairos slowly took his daughter from her arms. She’s so light, he thought, no heavier than a pillow and more fragile than glass.

For all of her fragility, his daughter cried so loudly. Her mother’s blood and bodily wastes covered her chubby face, and she kept her eyes closed. She was a precious little thing, defenseless, hungry, and afraid.

When he held her in his arms, Kairos realized he would fight the entire world for her.

Even the love he felt for Andromache and Julia appeared so cold compared to the warmth inside him now. It was stronger than him; an ancient instinct that went back to the very origin of humankind. An overwhelming desire to protect the life he and his wife had brought into the world.

“Shush…” Kairos whispered to his daughter as she kept crying for the whole world to hear. “It’s alright. You’re safe here.”

Kairos would sacrifice even his kingdom for her smile, and he would kill even the gods if they dared to threaten her.

“Your chicks are so big…” Rook whispered while looking at the child with curiosity. “I wonder how her egg looked…”

“Thank you, my son,” Aurelia declared at her son’s side. Her voice shook with pride and happiness. “I thought I would die before becoming a grandmother.”

Sertorius said nothing for a moment, before glancing at the marital bed with what could pass for hope. As his daughter calmed herself, Kairos glanced at his wife and concubine. Julia let out a final sigh of exhaustion as Andromache emerged from below the bedsheet, a second child in hand.

The other twin was as small and fragile as its sibling, its severed umbilical cord dangling from its chest. It didn’t make a sound as Andromache examined it, her expression a blank mask. Kairos bit his lower lip as he guessed his concubine’s next words.

It was a sentence he had dreaded to hear for months.

“It’s a boy,” the nymph warned while Julia gathered her breath.

While Sertorius’ lips morphed into a triumphant smile and Aurelia struggled not to cry, Caenis put her hand on her mouth in silent terror. And although it was drowned out by the pride and affection, Kairos shared her fear from the bottom of his heart.

Pray for a girl, had said the dreadful Romulus when he spared Julia’s life, or you will make a kinslayer out of me.

Kairos’ son wasn’t even an hour old, and he already had made enemies.