Months ago, back when they were unsure if their child would be a boy or a girl, Kairos and his wife had agreed on two possible names.

Aurelius if it were a boy, to honor Kairos’ mother Aurelia.

And Rhea if it were a girl, to honor Julia’s ancestor.

In the end, they both got their wish.

“Rhea Marius Flavius,” Kairos said as he held his daughter in his arms next to his bedroom’s window. The child was sleeping in wrapped clothes, the moonlight piercing through the glass to illuminate her face. “A sleeping princess.”

“Your heir,” Julia said while putting her son Aurelius to bed in a cradle near the marital bed. Unlike his sister who screamed whenever she woke up, Kairos’ son was quiet as a tomb. “She was born first.”

And she took great pleasure in it. Julia had been denigrated because of her gender in Lyce, and the idea of her daughter becoming a king’s heir filled her with vengeful glee. “It’s a bit early to play favorites,” Kairos said with a joking tone. “They’ve just been born.”

“Playing favorites is far from my mind,” his wife replied with a warm smile. “My son will want for nothing, whether in affection or status. I do not discriminate between genders.”

Which was one of her greatest qualities. Kairos approached the cradle and put Rhea right next to her brother, the two twins sleeping side by side. They looked so alike that even their father couldn’t tell them apart.

“They bear Lycaon’s curse,” Kairos said, his voice breaking. “I can feel the dark magic around them.”

A dark look appeared on Julia’s face. Though she had hoped for another outcome, she had expected the worst. “We knew it would happen, husband.”

Yes, they did. Julia herself was a werewolf and Kairos the son of one. It would have been a miracle if their children didn’t inherit the curse.

Kairos had ordered his sorcerers to do all they could to prevent it, but neither spells nor magical items could undo the will of a [God]. At least, so long as Lycaon lives, the Travian King thought angrily. I might not have to wait so long to see him dead.

Prometheus had prophesied Lycaon’s return, and his cult worked to break the seal binding him and each day they remained at large. And since Aurelius would become one of the chains keeping the wolf-god imprisoned if Sertorius ever perished…

I will kill them all first, Kairos thought. These madmen and their prophet Romulus alike. No matter who hides behind his mask.

Even if it were his brother.

“I will have faithful soldiers and undead warriors protect them day and night,” Julia declared with a determined look on her face. “I won't let them escape my sight, husband. Not even a mouse will approach them without my permission.”

“Neither you nor normal soldiers will be able to stand up to Romulus,” Kairos pointed out. His wife immediately flinched as if slapped, and the king immediately regretted his words. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I have rehearsed the assault enough times,” Julia interrupted him, her eyes wandering to her wardrobe. Her sword awaited in its sheath next to her clothes, waiting to be drawn. “I know I won’t be able to face him until I remove the [Necklace of Harmonia]’s curse. But if he comes… I will still try.”

Kairos gently put his arms around his wife and kissed her on the neck. Her red hair smelled of honey, but though she tried to appear strong, Julia couldn’t hide the bumps on her skin. “I will have someone assigned to you as an elite bodyguard,” he whispered. “At least, until we deal with the Beast Cult.”

“You will have to wait until this world comes to an end. The Lycean Republic has forced them underground many times, but they always return.” Julia’s eyes glittered with a hint of fury. “The Republic creates its own enemies.”

“Of course it does,” Kairos replied with an angry sneer. The Lycean Republic hunted down werewolves for the crime of being born, driving them into Lycaon’s waiting arms. It was a miracle that his own mother Aurelia remained loyal to her homeland rather than be consumed by bitterness. And even then, one of her family members had grown bitter enough to become Romulus.

Though he couldn’t find any mercy for Lycaon’s Legate after he tried to murder his wife and unborn children, Kairos felt some pity for the deluded cultists fighting for him. For all he knew, they were outcasts driven from their home, forced to hide their curse like lepers, and desperate enough to listen to a dark god’s promises for salvation.

The reason why Kairos worked hard to develop his cult, besides building up a powerbase, was to offer such outcasts an escape.

Could I convince Romulus’ cultists to abandon him? Kairos wondered. Do they know that Lycaon collects their souls after death? How would they react to the truth?

He had to believe that not all of them were beyond saving.

“One day, we will slay Lycaon,” Kairos swore. “I promise you.”

“Can’t you use one of your Skills to track down Romulus?” his wife asked with a frown. “Caenis couldn’t locate him, but you are a [Demigod].”

“I tried, I failed.” Even his upgraded [Lycean Education], which allowed him to tap into the collective knowledge of all dead Lycean citizens, couldn’t reveal anything about Romulus. “His [God] protects him from my sight.”

“But perhaps not all of his allies and minions. If we cannot catch its alpha, we can at least thin the wolf pack.”

“I’ll try.” Kairos had focused entirely on preparing for the Thessalan War, developing his cult, and cementing his control over his homeland of Travia. Sertorius’ allies in Lyce had taken over the hunt for Romulus, and he would learn more when reinforcements arrived.

But now was not the time to think about a darker future ahead. This should be a night of joy for the both of them.

Kairos slowly kissed his wife on the neck, right above the collarbone. “You look more beautiful than ever,” he flattered her. “And you don’t even wear Harmonia’s Necklace.”

His wife answered with a smile. “Kairos Marius Remus, are you trying to seduce me to your bed?”

“Will you resist me if I try?”

His wife’s index finger coyly brushed against his lips. “No… but you will have to wait many years for your third child, my dear. I’m exhausted and eager to enjoy a slim figure.”

Well… Kairos would only need to wait a few months. Andromache was only a trimester away from giving birth to Nessia.

Julia guessed his thoughts, a blank look on her face. “Will you take her on the campaign?”

Kairos looked away. “She insisted.”

“She insisted,” Julia repeated without emotion. Although she and Andromache had grown cordial to one another for the sake of protecting their shared family, Kairos could tell that she would never quite accept sharing him with a concubine. “You mean argued.”

“We argued,” Kairos admitted, his teeth gritting. “I didn’t want her to risk Nessia’s life by following me.”

His friend Nessus had perished to give his namesake a chance at life… and she wouldn’t have been in danger in the first place if Andromache hadn’t followed Kairos into the Necromanteion dungeon while in the early stages of pregnancy.

He had told as much to his concubine, but she wouldn’t listen. Andromache was the most powerful sorceress in Kairos’ army, and most of all, too proud to sit out the war even for a few months.

Julia sighed. “I cannot judge her harshly for this,” she admitted. “I investigated Teuta’s shipyards while pregnant myself. After getting a taste of power and freedom, it feels terrible to be sidelined.”

The memory of Andromache’s stomach rotting from Thanatos’ curse flashed in Kairos’ mind. He had felt so helpless then, unable to save his unborn daughter from death. Were it not for Nessus’ sacrifice… “This isn’t just about her.”

“But you shouldn’t make her feel diminished,” Julia pointed out. “She won’t take it well. She is proud, as much as I am. She will do something rash.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Kairos asked. “That I say nothing?”

“Allow her to follow you, but keep her away from the frontlines,” Julia suggested. “She is a powerful sorceress. She can help in many ways, even outside the battlefield.”

Kairos examined his wife carefully. “I thought you would want her to stay in Histria.”

“Whether I like it or not, she is part of the family now; and she is too powerful to be ignored.” Julia chuckled. “Perhaps I should come too, to keep an eye on her.”

“I would love to,” Kairos replied, “but I need someone I trust to rule here in my absence.”

“I know,” she replied with a sigh. “But I still feel ashamed that she gets to follow you on campaigns while I sit at home. Amazon queens lead their armies in battle instead of standing at the rear.”

“You are not an amazon.”

“You whispered kinder words only a few minutes ago,” Julia replied, though she didn’t sound offended. “If you lose, Histria will be destroyed. Mithridates is no fool. He knows that with us, it will be a fight to the death. If we don’t win this war, he will come for us. For Rhea and Aurelius.”

Kairos’ jaw clenched in frustration. “I know. I won’t let it happen.”

“We won’t let it happen,” his wife replied firmly. “I won’t lead armies on the frontline, but I refuse to sit at home doing nothing while you risk your life in this decisive battle. There are other battles where I can contribute. Battles of intrigue and diplomacy, but battles all the same.”

“So long as you don’t risk yourself or the children,” Kairos said with a frown. “Your mind is set on this.”

His wife responded with a chuckle. Julia was as stubborn as a mule when she wanted something. “I swear I won’t investigate an enemy shipyard on my own, but I think I could help manage your army’s intelligence division. You will need a steady stream of information.”

“You are welcome to our strategy meetings.” Kairos glanced at the amphora near their bed table. “Some wine?”

“Oh, yes,” Julia replied. “I missed drinking very much.”

With the children asleep, the couple moved to the bed. Julia poured them a cup each, and they toasted to the future. “I heard my brother had Thales arrested,” she said while resting her head against her husband’s chest while playing with her drink. “Why?”

“Mithridates took control of Talos,” Kairos replied while taking a sip from his cup. “Sertorius is afraid he might influence Thales through him.”

“If Thessala’s government could do it, they would have recalled and scrapped Thales long ago.” Julia sneered. “I understand my brother’s worry, husband, but I dislike it. I am fond of our [Crafter] and arresting our [Heroes] makes us look bad.”

“This is a temporary situation until we can ascertain the situation,” Kairos promised. “Did he make any progress on breaking the Necklace’s curse?”

“Not much,” Julia admitted. “But an idea crossed my mind. Hephaestus created the curse and has long perished. Normally, it would be difficult to speak with the dead…”

“But since Queen Persephone gave Cassandra control of the Necromanteion temple, she can run the [Nekyia] ritual there and compel the dead to answer questions,” Kairos guessed before kissing his wife on the cheek. “Cunning.”

“And if the plan works, we could gather information on Talos himself,” Julia pointed out with a grin. “Maybe find a way to either destroy or free him from Mithridates’ control.”

Dealing with Talos would be one of the war’s main strategic objectives.

The three main cities of the Thessalan alliance, Thessala, Pergamon, and Orthia, formed the backbone of King Mithridates’ war machine. To conquer the region, Kairos would have to destroy or take over all of these three critical locations. Destroying the Thalassocrator formed a fourth objective, as his kingdom would never know peace so long as Mithridates controlled his weapon of mass destruction.

“Orthia is a weak point,” Julia argued. “Although she hates you, Queen Euthenia tried to deal with us rather than Mithridates.”

Of course she did, he murdered her nephew before her eyes. “He probably bound her with oaths.”

“Even vows can be overturned or played with. I trust my gut, husband. The Thalassocrator, Talos, and Zama are the pillars of that foul poison king’s alliance, but Orthia is the weak point.”

“As is Teuta.” Though greatly diminished after his own ascension to [Demigod], Kairos’ former rival for the Travian throne still commanded a sizable fleet allied with Mithridates. So long as she lived or refused to bend the knee, Queen Teuta would remain a thorn in his side. “I doubt we’ll be able to fight Mithridates directly and cut off the snake’s head in one fell swoop. He’s too careful, too indirect.”

“He could afford to, back when he played battles of intrigue,” his wife replied. “But he is the leader of a military alliance now. Soldiers will not respect someone commanding from the rear, especially the fractious people of the Thessalan League. Many cities follow Mithridates out of fear, and weakness kills fear.”

True… Mithridates was crafty, but he would have to fight on the field eventually to assert his authority. The Poison Emperor would hedge his bets as much as he could, but he couldn’t spend the war hiding in Pergamon.

Kairos started to consider his strategy. Should he threaten Orthia first and try to break apart Mithridates’ alliance piece by piece? Or target Pergamon directly and force a battle to end this war quickly? Sertorius was right, odds favored them for now, but the Thessalans would only grow stronger so long as they held onto Talos.

We need to know more about Mithridates’ dragon too, Kairos thought. He knew the creature had been a gift from the witch Medea, and that she had ridden a similar beast in battle against the undead Argonauts in Achlys.

Should he contact the amazons for information? Although Achlys had pledged its neutrality in the Thessalan war, individual mercenaries were free to work with either side. The amazon general Petra herself had helped Kairos hunt monsters, maybe she would agree to fight Mithridates.

“I will come with you when you interrogate Thales tomorrow morning,” Julia said as she finished her cup and set it on the bed table. “But until then…”

Her fingers brushed his chest.

“I am all yours.”

As befitting of his rank, Thales had gotten a gilded cage instead of a cell.

Sertorius had confined the automaton engineer to his workshop’s library, denying him access to weapons and tools, but letting him draw, write, and read under close surveillance. Thales had taken his house arrest in kind, and was busy scribbling the plans of a ship when Kairos and Julia visited him.

“Lord Kairos, Lady Julia,” the automaton greeted them with his four arms as he set his scroll aside on a desk. The two guards assigned to be his ‘security’ prepared to raise their weapons, but Kairos calmed them with a look. “My congratulations on the birth.”

“Thank you, Thales,” Julia replied, as servants set chairs for her and her husband. “A shame you couldn’t be here. I know the birth would have been less painful with your assistance.”

“The shame is all mine, Lady Julia.” Thales looked down. “To think my own maker turned to Mithridates… I can scarcely believe it.”

“We came to discuss that event,” Kairos said before glancing at the schematics Thales was working on: that of a colossal warship. “Are you trying to reverse engineer the Thalassocrator?”

Thales nodded slowly, his voice lower than before. “I was already studying it before Lord Sertorius informed me of my homeland’s destruction. The news only renewed my ardor.”

Although Thales had been exiled from Thessala for daring to try creating life himself, he seemed to have kept a measure of affection for his old homeland; enough to be shaken by its destruction. Even when we find a new home, we never forget the first, Kairos thought. “We will stop Mithridates and avenge your city, my friend.”

Zama had sworn vengeance after Kairos destroyed Orichalcos; he could afford to do the same on behalf of a friend.

“If I could choose, I would rather have my maker freed,” Thales replied, his hands shaking. “I escaped Thessala to find freedom. The thought of seeing my kindred enslaved fills me with revulson.”

Julia briefly took one of his hands into her own, calming the automaton. “Do you have any idea how Mithridates achieved this feat?” she asked softly.

“I do,” Thales confirmed. “There is a well-kept secret among automatons. When we are created, Lord Talos designs a control device fit for each individual soul. A rod that allows anyone wielding it to command a specific automaton.”

Kairos frowned as he put the two and two together. “And you think Talos has one?”

“Lord Talos always claimed to have created these devices and no one could find mentions of Hephaestus creating a control rod,” Thales replied as he pulled back his hand. “Nor did I think an artifact, no matter how powerful, could enslave a [Demigod]. But I see no other possibility. Somehow, King Mithridates found Lord Talos’ weakness and stripped him of his free-will.”

“Does Talos have your control rod?” Kairos asked, his friend shaking his head in denial. “Could he recreate it?”

“Possibly, but I already took that possibility into account when I escaped.” Thales fidgeted on his own chair before glancing at the guards observing him. “It’s… I apologize, sir, but… could we speak of it in private?”

Kairos considered his words and glanced at the guards. Although they clearly expected a trap of some kind, he didn’t detect any hint of fear in their gaze. Their king was a [Demigod] and no machine could threaten him. “You are dismissed.”

The guards obeyed without a word and closed the door on their way out. Once alone with his rulers, Thales opened his chest and revealed the hidden compartment within it. He moved a hand inside and drew out a small wand covered in runes.

Kairos’ [Magical Knack] Skill immediately identified the item’s nature. “This is your control rod,” he whispered. “You stole it when you fled Thessala?”

“An automaton can only have one control rod at once as far as I know,” Thales explained. “By keeping mine intact, Lord Talos was unable to create a second. This is why the Archons couldn’t recall me to the city after I deserted. I… I didn’t dare to reveal it. Whoever holds this rod… will rob me of my free will.”

“The fact you show it to us now speaks volumes about the trust you put in us,” Julia replied with warmth. “It will not be misplaced.”

Thales glanced at his control rod. “If I may… could I—”

“You can keep it,” Kairos interrupted him. “I am not Mithridates. I will not hold a Sword of Damocles over your head out of paranoia. I trust you, as a crewmate and as a friend.”

Though he lacked any form of facial expression, Thales’ relief was plain to see. “Thank you, sir,” he said as he put his rod back into his chest compartment and closed it in short order. “I am honored.”

“Is there any way to disable a control rod’s power?” Julia asked. “If we could cause Thessala’s automaton army to rebel, this would cripple Mithridates’ war effort.”

“I am researching a way to disrupt the rods’ of [Elite] and [Common] soldiers,” Thales admitted, but his hope soon turned to pessimism. “However, Lord Talos’ control rod must have been crafted by Hephaestus himself at his creation. No tool of mine will counter a godly artifact.”

“And Mithridates probably keeps the rod on his person at all times,” Kairos guessed with a frown. “Maybe I could create a counter with my [Telchine Metalsmithing]. But to create something so powerful… there will be a price to pay.”

Julia shifted on her chair, her looks darkening. “A sacrifice?”

“Yes.” The Telchine’s crafting methods involved blood. Creating a tool capable of interfering with a god’s design would probably consume gallons of them. “Even then, Talos will never truly be free so long as the rod remains. But if he’s unable to influence you, Thales, then maybe we could work together to free your maker.”

“Lord Talos can control any artificial creature in his presence,” Thales warned. “Even without my control rod, I won’t be able to resist his direct vocal commands.”

Kairos froze as a worrying thought crossed his mind. “Would the Foresight count as artificial?” he asked.

“I do not know,” Thales admitted with a heavy voice. “I never had the opportunity to test this hypothesis. Worse, Lord Talos’ forge can create more than small automatons. His arsenal can help build ships, war machines, and powerful golems…”

Talos could potentially create monstrous ships of his own to rival Kairos’ elite squadron.

That settled it. Freeing the [Demigod] from Mithridates’ control and destroying his forge would be the invasion’s first strategic priority. “Thales, I want you to write down everything you can remember about Talos’ Cradle and Thessala,” Kairos ordered. “Any entry point, any structural weakness, any way we can defeat your maker.”

“I already started compiling notes,” the engineer replied before pointing at the ship's schematics. “And although these are educated guesses, I think I found a few flaws in the Thalassocrator.”

“It is too big,” Julia guessed. “No ship of that size can travel in shallow waters or through straits. This weapon is limited to open water.”

“And from what we could infer from the magical wards Orichalcos used to control their own trident’s piece, the Thalassocrator traded finesse for power,” Thales continued. “It can summon mighty tidal waves and sink islands, but nothing more elaborate. Once activated, the process cannot be stopped either; walls of water will rain down on a target and the surrounding areas for minutes.”

“So it cannot operate everywhere in the Thessalan League and firing it is a double-edged sword,” Kairos summarized. “Many islands are separated by narrow straits, and Mithridates can’t risk activating this superweapon close to his command center in Pergamon.”

“Mithridates will probably station it near the rebellious cities resisting his rule to intimidate them,” Julia said before clenching her hands. “Until he decides to use it offensively by unleashing it on the Sunsea.”

A polite way to say that Mithridates would sink Histria and the Lycean Republic’s coasts the moment he had secured his powerbase at home.

“I want to know that ship’s location at all times,” Kairos told his wife. “Mobilize all our spies. It’s a giant warship, difficult to hide, and Mithridates will probably lurk nearby to protect it. Rook forgives the expression, but maybe we can kill two birds with one stone.”

Julia gave him a predatory smirk. “Now you are speaking my language, husband.”

“What about me, sir?” Thales asked shyly. “Am I still under house arrest?”

Kairos shook his head. “You will remain under heavy escort and banned from war councils until we neutralize Talos, just in case, but I will let you return to your workshop. Solving the control rod problem will be your main priority for now.”

Thales bowed deeply. “I swear I will not disappoint you, sir.”

Kairos didn’t doubt him.

Mithridates wasn’t the only one with a genius on his side.