The Lycean reinforcements arrived in the morning.

Sertorius had once told Kairos that Dispater didn’t believe you were rich until you could fund an army out of your own pocket. As the wealthiest man in the Lycean Republic, the man had funded a larger armada than even Travia’s. Four hundred galleys had made their way to Histria, a fourth of them colossal quinquireme troop transporters brimming with soldiers. A dozen or so Lycean [Heroes] were among them, from what Kairos had heard.

So many troops had made their way to the Travian King’s fertile island that they threatened it with a food and freshwater shortage. Even with the magical artifacts at his disposal, Kairos couldn’t afford to let so many people loiter in his realm for too long; they would have to sail for the Thessalan League within a few days.

As such, Kairos had ordered a war meeting in his fortress to decide their strategy. He had set a round table in a carefully prepared room in the upper floors, the windowless room carefully shielded with privacy wards. No word inside would come out of it.

Candles cast light on a large map of the Thessalan League occupying the table alongside figurines representing ships, soldiers, and monsters. Julia had brought them from her strategy games to better illustrate the forces in presence, and her husband had been amused enough to let her have her way.

Kairos himself arrived first alongside Julia and Andromache, before summoning his trusted officers to discuss their next steps. His aide-de-camp Tiberius arrived first alongside his fiancée Cassandra, followed by Agron the minotaur and a few other key Travian captains. They were only waiting for Sertorius and Dispater to arrive to start the reunion.

“Are you sure?” Julia whispered with a disappointed frown as she sat next to her husband’s left. “A Gorgon on our side would be a tremendous asset.”

“My teacher prefers the tranquility of her home to the battlefield,” Andromache replied as she sat on Kairos’ right. “Euryale entertained us with drills and provided the hydralisks’ eggs, but she will not leave the island. She would rather study magic than get involved in human wars, and she has had her fill with the Anthropomachia.”

Kairos could understand her position, but it was still a disappointing outcome. “Are you sure you can’t convince her, given time?” he asked his concubine.

“My teacher will remain deaf to my pleas,” Andromache replied while shaking her head. “However…”

Kairos raised an eyebrow. “However?”

“She said that her sister Stheno would be less obtuse,” Andromache admitted. “Out of the three Gorgons, Stheno enjoys spilling blood most. Euryale agreed to send her a message, though she cannot guarantee that her sister will listen.”

Kairos’ late friend Nessus had had an encounter with Stheno, one that left him trapped in stone for the gods knew how many centuries. He had been left with an unshakable fear of the gorgon sisters ever since. If only we could have one on our side, to strike fear in our enemies’ heart, Kairos thought. “At least we will have a war sphinx to compensate,” he mused.

Andromache sneered. “She can draw arrow fire.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Aglaonice,” Julia mused as Sertorius entered the room alongside half a dozen other Lycean officers; all of them were [Heroes], though Kairos didn’t see any familiar faces among them. “She’s useful, is she not?”

“But as disloyal and arrogant as they come,” Kairos replied. “She will be useful, but not in a strategic meeting.”

Dispater arrived last, jovial in his old age. The richest man in Lyce had come wearing glittering, splendid armor decorated with gold, but it was his bodyguard who astonished Kairos the most.

A human mountain followed Dispater, his height so great that he had to hunch not to hit the ceiling with his head. His impressive muscles matched Heracles’, while hundreds of scars covered his naked chest. A horned, faceless helmet covered his head, and steel plates covered his shoulders and arms. A belt of gemstones glittered around his waist, while his iron boots caused shaking noise with each step. The man carried no weapon, for Kairos had forbidden anyone to wield one in the room, but he didn’t need one. His mere hands could crush skulls like fruits.

Kairos recognized this stranger for who he was before he even used [Observer] to see his stats. His body radiated the same otherworldly strength as Helios, Heracles, and those who carried an ember of divinity.

A [Demigod].

Ultor Quintus Fabius, The Invincible

Legend: King of the Arena (Demigod).

Pantheon: None.

Race: Human (Wolfblood)

Class: Fighter (Gladiator, Berserker, Boxer, Athlete, Warmaster, Avenger, Champion, Charioteer, Myrmidon, Duelist, Juggernaut, Swordlord, Ravager, Armiger, Beastbane, Primalist).

Level: 80.

Kairos had never seen anyone with so many subclasses… but he had heard of the man. Julia covered her mouth in shock, while the likes of Agron and Cassandra appraised the [Demigod] with respect.

“Kairos, my friend,” Dispater smiled with pride as he saluted the Travian King. “Allow me to introduce you to my new bodyguard. Ultor Quintus Fabius, invincible champion of the Colosseum Maximus, bane of men and beasts alike, and [Demigod] of duels and arenas.”

The towering gladiator glanced at Kairos in silence, though the Travian King couldn’t see his eyes beneath the helmet. Eventually Ultor offered him a respectful nod as his only gesture, which Kairos returned.

“It’s my mother who will be delighted,” Kairos admitted. Aurelia had regaled his childhood with tales of gladiator tournaments. Ultor was already the champion by then, and she had watched him manhandle a Nemean Lion on his own. The same creature that took Kairos a whole regiment to bring down.

Adding this [Demigod] to their army would be a tremendous boon and offset the disparity with Mithridates’ army. Each force counted dozens of [Heroes] in their ranks as well, and all of them would be force multipliers.

“I’m sure Ultor will give her a private performance during the wedding,” Dispater said as he moved to greet his son Tiberius and Cassandra, before graciously kissing his future daughter-in-law on the hand.

Kairos blinked in surprise. “Which wedding?”

“Ours, sir,” Tiberius said while clearing his throat, embarrassed.

“We can talk about it after the reunion,” Cassandra replied as Dispater sat next to her. Ultor alone remained on his feet, standing behind his employer with his arms crossed. “I don’t think you all came to discuss matrimonial matters.”

“No,” Sertorius replied bluntly as he sat as far away from Dispater as possible.

This caught Kairos’ attention, and he glanced at his brother-in-law. From what he had understood, Sertorius’ wife Lucretia had arrived in Histria with her father Dispater. Yet not only was she absent for the meeting, but Sertorius looked just as stoic as ever.

And though he pretended nothing was wrong, Kairos noticed the wary gazes that Dispater sent to his son-in-law. Something happened between them, the Travian King guessed. A family matter.

Kairos quickly guessed that it had something to do with Sertorius’ wife, and the fact she hadn’t given him a son yet. Had they argued over it? In the current circumstances, the judge’s heir was his nephew Aurelius, who didn’t share a drop of blood with Dispater…

“Husband,” Julia whispered, drawing him out of his thoughts. “We are all here.”

The Travian King nodded and took the lead. “As you have all learned, Mithridates has declared himself emperor, sunk Thessala, and launched an all-out assault against cities refusing to bend the knee. Both the Lycean Republic and the Travian Federation, which we represent, have decided to support our allies in the Thessalan League against this unprovoked act of aggression and to return peace to the region.”

Of course, none of the people present were under any delusions that they acted at the behest of their allies. This would be a war of conquest, winner take all. But propaganda was a key element of warfare, and Kairos had to put himself on the side of peace and freedom.

“Mithridates will never stop threatening us until we have crushed him utterly,” the Travian King continued, everyone listened to his words in religious silence. “I gathered you all today so we may plan how to do exactly that.”

Orthia controlled the largest area of land in the southwest, followed by Pergamon’s territory close to the League’s center. The late city of Thessala had control of a large island in the northeast, but most of it had sunk below the waves following the Thalassocrator’s attack. Most of the pro-Lyce cities, strongest among them the Polis of Apollonia, were located on a fourth landmass northwest of Thessala.

“Mithridates’ homeland of Pergamon, Orthia, and Talos’ Cradle form the backbone of the enemy war effort,” Kairos explained. “They are supported by Teuta, a Travian warlord who refuses to bend the knee to me; General Zama of Vali, who leads an army of elite mercenaries; and foreign support from the Alexandrian Empire.”

“According to our latest intel, Zama has launched an all-out assault on our allied cities in the north at the head of a forty-thousand strong army,” Sertorius explained while pointing at the map. “And survivors of Thessala’s armed forces who escaped the cataclysm while they were abroad moved to the island of Megara in the east. They probably intend to mount a resistance movement.”

“How many of them are there?” Cass asked, immediately sensing an opportunity.

“Around one hundred ships according to our intel,” Julia replied. “Insufficient to assault the Cradle, but still a sizable contingent. I am in the process of establishing communications with them to coordinate an alliance.”

“They will prove useful friends for now, but we can’t let them revive Thessala,” Dispater pointed out. “If they won’t fall in line after Mithridates is dealt with, we will have to crush them too.”

While Dispater spoke as if their victory was inevitable, Sertorius proved less enthusiastic. “That discussion will wait until after we win the war,” the judge declared. “Although Mithridates is the enemy faction’s unifying figure, Zama has sworn a blood oath to fight us and Teuta has nowhere to go after Kairos took over Travia. Both will fight to the death because they have no other choice. All of them have to go.”

“Like Orthia and Talos’ Cradle,” Cass pointed out.

“We already defeated the former once,” Agron said with a bloodthirsty smirk. “We only have to finish the job.”

Kairos shook his head. “We prevailed against Orthian’s armies in the past because we fought them at sea, but to conquer them we will have to fight them at home, on land. A battlefield where they excel.”

“As for Talos’ fortress, with the island around it sunk by the Thalassocrator it can only be taken by an amphibious assault,” Sertorius added. “Mithridates had Teuta deploy her own fleet to defend the Cradle, assisted by Talos’ own forces. Reports indicate around three hundred ships, two-thirds of them manned by automatons.”

Kairos bit his lips as he observed the map. He had wanted to assault the Cradle immediately and prevent Mithridates from building more automaton soldiers, but it was located deep into the League’s territory. Sailing directly to it would leave an armada trapped between Teuta, Pergamon, and Orthia. No wonder no foreign army ever managed to conquer Thessala, he thought. They would have had to take out the other cities first.

“What about the Thalassocrator?” Kairos asked Julia, having asked her to set the full might of their information network into locating it. “Do we know where it is?”

His wife nodded slowly and put a replica of an enormous ship on the eastern side of Orthia’s landmass. Then she added a silver dragon figurine on top of it.

Dispater’s eyes lit up in interest as some members of the council exchanged whispers. “Mithridates himself is at the helm?” he asked the obvious.

It didn’t surprise Kairos. Of course Mithridates would keep his friends close and his enemies closer. Though his puppet Antipater controlled Orthia’s army, Queen Euthenia hadn’t forgotten the Poison Emperor’s murder of her nephew. The Orthians were a proud martial people, and Kairos doubted all of them would kneel before Mithridates.

Agron frowned as he examined the map. Something bothered him. “Why station their second weapon on the eastern side? They know that we will arrive from the west.”

“Exactly,” Sertorius said. “The Thalassocrator is a fantastic offensive weapon, but Mithridates can’t afford to leave it exposed to a surprise attack. The risk of it being destroyed in an ambush is too great.”

“And Mithridates probably intends to launch the Thalassacrator against the resistance in Megara first,” Cassandra added with keen insight. “To stand a chance against an invasion, he has to fight on a united front.”

Kairos turned to his concubine. “Andromache, do you think you could disrupt the trident’s magic? You did study another shard.”

Andromache shook her head. “I can detect the tidal wave spell activating ahead of time, my other half, but I cannot disrupt the process unless I can study the ship’s magical properties up close. Even so, I cannot guarantee anything.”

Sertorius looked at Andromache, and then at Kairos. “What about your undersea allies?”

Kairos crossed his arms. “Hybris has agreed to discuss terms of an alliance… for a price.”

“Hybris the Cetus?” a Lycean commander asked in shock, his surprise was echoed by others. Although Kairos had fought alongside them, Cetae remained dangerous sea monsters for most; the ancestral enemies of mankind.

Sertorius cut the chatter with a raised hand, silencing everyone. “What price?”

“Military support in his own war effort.” Hybris was busy pacifying the ocean’s depths by crushing merfolk survivors from the Orichalcos kingdom. Kairos’ fleet of amphibious, monstrous ships would greatly help cleaning it up. “He will visit us soon to talk about it.”

The thought of partaking in this slaughter after already destroying Orichalcos’ capital unsettled the Travian King, but his duty was to his people first and foremost. If blood was the price for Hybris’ assistance, he would gladly pay it.

“From the forces in presence, I suggest a double assault,” Kairos declared. “Orthia is the weak point in Mithridates’ alliance and the region most exposed to an invasion, but we can’t abandon our allies in the north either.”

“Agreed,” Sertorius said. “If we can secure a foothold on both landmasses, we can then launch a pincer attack against Pergamon and Talos’ Cradle. This would be the ideal scenario. A third reserve force will stay behind in Histria until we have secured the path ahead.”

Kairos nodded as he approved the plan. “I am familiar with Orthia and powerful enough to engage Mithridates in the air if he attacks with his dragon. I will take the lead on that front. Sertorius, will you take command of the northern army?”

Sertorius prepared to give his agreement, but Dispater spoke up first. “I will take command of this force,” he declared. “My son Tiberius and Ultor will assist me in rescuing our allies. Then we shall crush Zama in the field.”

His words were met with silence, none metaphorically louder than Sertorius’. The judge looked at his co-conspirator with an indecipherable gaze, his eyes cold as ice. He didn’t expect the proposal, Kairos guessed. Neither did the Travian King, truth be told.

Tiberius looked at his father with disbelief, and said out loud what everyone else was thinking, “Father, Zama is a [Demigod] and the veteran of a hundred battles.” While you haven’t won one, was not so subtly left unsaid.

“He only has forty thousand troops or so,” Dispater replied confidently. “I can easily mobilize twice that amount, maybe thrice, with the support of your allied cities. Many of their rulers are indebted to me and will raise levies to help. Zama may strengthen his army, but he is only one man and can’t multiply it.”

“Spoken like someone who has never fought a [Demigod],” Agron snorted. “They are worth more than an entire army.”

Dispater replied with a glare. “Haven’t you killed a [Demigod] dragon while you were a mere [Elite]? Why would you doubt that I, a [Hero], can prevail?”

“Because I didn’t defeat that dragon by throwing money at him,” Agron said with scorn.

Dispater chuckled, though there was no joy in it. He turned to look at Ultor. “Can’t I?”

Ultor finally emerged from his taciturn silence. His voice was deep and booming like the howling wind. “I am a warrior, Lord Dispater, not a general. Undefeated I may be, my strength does not translate into a strategist’s insight. I can lead a unit through the enemy’s ranks and shield you from danger, but my advice cannot guarantee an army’s victory.”

And with that short monologue, the warrior had proved himself twice as wise as his employer.

“You will prove sufficient,” Dispater brushed it off. “I will have my own [Demigod] as a trump card, greater numbers, and better equipment. My soldiers are armed with the best items money can buy. Zama is not to be underestimated, but I trust my strength.”

This is madness, Kairos thought. Dispater had earned his [Legend] through his money-making and business skills, not by fighting his way on a battlefield. Besides, Julia had once told her husband that the man’s greed was only matched by his caution. Why was he acting so rashly now?

Maybe he felt left out in the dust? Dispater’s contribution to the war effort had been largely political and monetary, but the Lycean Republic was a martial society. Only successful commanders could get a triumph and win the ovation of the masses. While Sertorius had earned acclaim by raiding the Underworld alongside Kairos and his son Tiberius had participated in many campaigns, Dispater had been waiting for his chance to prove himself on the battlefield. He was also growing old, and slaying Zama would make him a [Demigod] closer to immortality.

Had his greed finally overwhelmed his sense of self-preservation, the same way it led Kairos’ uncle to his doom?

No, it runs deeper than mere avarice, the Travian King realized as he observed Dispater. The richest man in Lyce wasn’t looking at his son the longest, or even Kairos himself.

Instead, he held Sertorius’ cold gaze. The tension between them was palpable.

So that’s it, Kairos guessed. Dispater felt threatened by his own son-in-law, who had accumulated enough power to rule Lyce in all but name and who had an heir unrelated to him. If Sertorius’ marriage grew strained, the alliance might collapse… and while Dispater’s wealth had been valuable during the early stages of their arrangement, the judge now had accumulated vast resources of his own and strong allies in Travia.

If a power struggle erupted between them, no doubt most of Lyce would back Sertorius. Dispater needed victories to his name to protect himself at home and maintain his prestige.

“Agreed,” Sertorius said after some consideration.

Kairos thought he had misheard for a moment. He glanced at his brother-in-law, but his expression remained a blank mask with dead eyes. Does he want Dispater out of the way? Or does he think we can’t afford to alienate him, and that it’s better to indulge him for now?

“Much obliged,” Dispater replied with a smile that didn’t reach the eyes.

Kairos prepared to argue, when he sensed his wife’s nails sink into his arm. He glanced at Julia, their eyes meeting.

“You can’t possibly think that this is a good idea,” Kairos whispered too low for the others to hear. Thankfully, his [Speech] skill deactivated when he wanted to be discreet.

“I know him,” Julia whispered back. “Godlike [Charisma] or not, the more you will forbid Dispater something, the less he will listen. He is too important to alienate. You cannot prevent him from going… but you can redirect his path.”

Kairos clenched his fists, before realizing she had a point. He couldn’t outright forbid anything to Dispater; he wasn’t a Travian citizen, and he had more than enough money and funds to command his own army. The man hadn’t even asked permission from his allies, only for their blessing.

That explained Sertorius’ reaction. By outwardly going along with Dispater’s intentions, the judge could influence him more subtly.

“Zama is a tremendously dangerous adversary, but he is a secondary concern for now,” Kairos argued while trying to salvage the situation the best he could. “Our main goal should be to mobilize the allied cities and gain a foothold to target Talos’ Cradle before we get overwhelmed by tides of automatons.”

“Of course,” Dispater replied with a nod. “I will not engage Zama until the time is right. I’m no fool.”

That remains to be seen, Kairos thought grimly. “Cassandra.”

She immediately straightened up. “Yes, Kairos?”

“Out of all of us, you are most familiar with the Thessalan League,” Kairos reminded her and the other officers. “You are also my best commander. Considering the stakes, I ask that you support and advise your future father-in-law and husband in the battles to come.”

Cassandra nodded slowly as she read between the lines. She would be the true brain on this front, and her role would be to manage Dispater to prevent any rash actions. “Of course,” she said. “I will stand by my husband and family. You can count on me.”

“It will be a pleasure to have you by our side,” Dispater said with a fatherly smile.

Tiberius, however, looked fit to gag. But though he had grown confident enough to stand up to his father, he had the sense not to argue before all the army’s officers. It would only cause a split.

“I will be sure to offer you the same good, cautious counsel my future wife and I gave to his Majesty King Kairos,” Tiberius said with a false neutral tone as he took Cass’ hand into his own. “Certainly, you will prove wise enough to listen. For the family’s sake.”

Dispater didn’t miss the not-so-subtle message, nor did Cassandra. While the latter struggled not to smile, the former observed his son with a mix of annoyance at his defiance and quiet pride.

Sertorius smiled too, but his eyes were that of a shark lurking in the water.

This alliance is fraying at the edges, Kairos thought. He would have to work to keep it intact, but in private. Even with his high [Charisma], arguing further with Dispater in front of the troops would only sow doubt.

Afterward, the council mostly discussed how to distribute troops, resources, and most importantly, their [Heroes]. Since some of them had unique abilities that could either help in battle or supplies, assigning them could make or break a regiment.

In the end, they decided it would be wiser to distribute [Heroes] with the commanders they were more familiar with for operational purposes. Sertorius, Andromache, and Agron decided to follow Kairos’ group in the southwest with most of the fleet and Travian [Heroes], while Dispater could lead the largest land army in the north with most of the Lycean champions. Julia and Thales would remain in Histria with the reserves to manage the supplies, until either group had secured a foothold to allow for further reinforcements.

In Kairos’ case, his fleet would make landfall in a place he would rather have forgotten.

Boeotia, he thought as he looked at the map. The first city he had sacked in his pirate career, and the one that sparked his involvement in the Thessalan League’s turmoil. It always goes back to Boeotia.

“Now,” Julia said as the discussion turned to lighter matters, her gaze turned to Cassandra and Tiberius. “About this wedding…”

Cassandra chuckled while her fiancé did his best to keep a straight face. “Tiberius and I intended to marry in Lyce, as per tradition,” Cass explained. “But considering how the situation is evolving, this won’t be possible.”

“Instead, we intend to have it in the Necromanteion,” Tiberius explained. “With my father and Lord Sertorius present, it will be as if all of Lyce made the trip.”

Dispater nodded with pride. “It is unconventional, but we are all one family here.”

“Congratulations,” Andromache said with a warm, genuine smile. She and Cassandra had grown into friends over the past year, and she was clearly delighted at seeing her happiness. “I will be sure to attend as well.”

“It is wise,” Kairos replied while glancing at Cassandra. “And my mother will be able to act as your witness herself, instead of me filling in for her.”

“She will,” Cass smirked. “And Kairos… if I may be bold enough, I would like to ask for a favor.”

“Certainly,” Kairos replied without even waiting to hear it. He trusted Cass like his own blood.

“Your Majesty,” Tiberius said after clearing his throat. “We would like to ask you to officiate the wedding.”

Kairos blinked in surprise. He had expected them to borrow his [Golden Fleece] or some magic trick, not… not this. “I… I am touched,” the king said, “but I am no [Priest].”

“You are a [Demigod],” Cass replied with a bright smile. “You are a cut above.”

Point taken, Kairos thought before turning to Sertorius. “Is that even possible according to Lycean laws?”

“I am a [Priest] and I make the laws of Lyce,” Sertorius replied with a hint of amusement. “Yes, you can do it.”

“Come on, husband,” Julia said with a smile. “It will be fun.”

“Do it, my other half,” Andromache asked with an insistent gaze. “If not for them, then to please me.”

“Fine, fine,” Kairos said while raising his hands in defeat, a wide grin all over his face. “By the powers invested in me by my [Pantheon] and kingship, I will bless your union myself.”

“Please do not call all your monstrous allies,” Cassandra chuckled. “We don’t want to scare the guests, especially with those I have in mind.”

“Oh?” Dispater raised an eyebrow. “Someone we should know?”

“I would like to hold the [Nekyia] ritual during the wedding,” Cassandra replied with a nod. “If I do, Queen Persephone will bless the union herself. For a night, both the living and the dead will be allowed to mingle at the celebration.”

Kairos’ eyes lit up in interest. “Who do you intend to call?”

Cassandra smiled ear to ear. “I think you already know.”

Yes, he did.

Not even death could stop bloodlines and brotherhoods.