Congratulations, you have successfully raised your [Luck] from D to D+.

So close and yet still so far away…

“What are you doing?” her husband asked her from atop his white horse.

“Improving my shit [Luck],” Cassandra replied as she removed her fork from a Valian scout’s corpse. A column of smoke rose from the village, ash drifting through the air alongside the smell of cooked flesh. The blue skies had turned orange from the flames of burning shacks. “I’m sick of arriving late.”

Bodies lay on the muddy streets, whether they belonged to Cassandra’s troops or the invaders. Dispater wanted the remains of Zama’s soldiers crucified as an example, but Tiberius had countered that order after hearing reports of undead activity in the region.

The goddess is watching with disapproval, Cassandra thought as she climbed on her own horse, a splendid brown mare that her father-in-law had given her. Queen Persephone needed a proper burial to summon souls to her realm, so corpses left in the open attracted restless spirits and daemons. But she had yet to hear about undead rising in high numbers so spontaneously. “Do you think Zama has necromancers with him?”

“I don’t think so,” Tiberius replied as he oversaw the supplies his men could recover: sheep, chickens, eggs, and vegetables. After driving away the locals, the Valian mounted scouts had been busy counting their tribute when Cassandra’s team fell upon them by surprise. They killed a dozen of their foes, but a few survivors managed to escape on horseback. “The undead cases don’t follow an observable pattern from what I can tell. It’s more likely opportunists exploiting the chaos to practice vile rituals, like flies attracted to a corpse.”

“It’s still awfully convenient,” Cassandra replied, unconvinced.

“Between us, I’m more worried about the wolves,” Tiberius said with a dark look. “My men caught another lurking in the area.”

Cassandra gritted her teeth. “A scavenger attracted by the smell of cooked meat, or an animal assassin?”

“I don’t know, but it frightens the men. They think Lycaon himself is smelling the blood from his prison… and they’re probably right.”

There was plenty of blood flowing through this land.

It had been two weeks since Dispater’s fleet landed in the northern territories of the fallen Thessalan League to reinforce the pro-Lycean cities against Zama’s offensive. When they arrived, they found that the Valian general had made frighteningly quick progress. After establishing the army’s quarters in the allied city of Apollonia, Dispater had ordered Cassandra and Tiberius to defend the countryside the best they could.

So far, results had been mixed. The Valian foragers seemed to have the supernatural ability to strike where their foes least expected them, and their light cavalry moved so swiftly that they usually got away before Cassandra’s troops could mobilize.

All in all, the whole adventure felt like playing tags with human lives.

“I wish I could have offered you a better honeymoon,” Tiberius lamented.

Cassandra smirked. “Do you know that when a Travian captain marries, it is traditional for the crew to launch a foreign raid to celebrate? If it is successful, then the union is considered blessed by the gods.”

“Now you are pulling my leg,” Tiberius replied with a chuckle. “Lord Kairos didn’t go on a rampage after he married Lady Julia.”

“Because he wanted to change Travian traditions, but his father sank three ships when he married Aurelia; one for each of the concubines he set aside for her hand.” Cassandra wasn’t part of the Foresight’s crew back then, but Aurelia loved to recount that episode. “As for the blessing, they conceived their firstborn Taulas on the way home.”

Tiberius looked at her with amusement. “I don’t have ships to burn, but would you accept me founding a town in your name as an apology? I would rather celebrate our marriage with something constructive rather than destroying other people’s livelihoods.”

“And I love you for it.” Just as she had once loved Kairos for his willingness to go against the norms. “Are you serious about the town founding?”

“Of course. It is a Lycean tradition after victorious campaigns.”

“Then please rebuild this one instead,” Cassandra said as she took one last glance at the destroyed village. “These people will need all the support they can get.”

After having collected all they could and burnt the bodies, the mounted troops left the village to return to Apollonia. Their horses’ hooves thundered as they followed the road back to the larger city.

The ride took hours, but the sightseeing left a sour taste in Cassandra’s mouth. She could hardly take a look at the countryside without noticing a column of smoke somewhere on the horizon. The village they had just ‘rescued’ was but one threatened by lightning raids. Zama had sent three groups of hundreds of riders to pillage the farmlands in the area, all within view of the ruling city-state.

The Valian scouts can cover frightening distances, Cassandra thought. According to reports, Zama’s army was entrenched in Nicopolis, a small town in the southeast that the general sacked after its leaders refused to submit to Mithridates. Three minor settlements previously allied with Lyce had then surrendered rather than suffer the same fate. The larger cities are holding for now, but for how long?

The larger, well-fortified Thessalan city-states had little to fear from Zama. In his haste to run a lightning campaign through rebel territories, he had sacrificed siege engines for speed and sent cavalry to ravage the vulnerable countryside.

As they traveled along the road, Cassandra’s group met with other Lycean patrols, who all offered the same tale.

“They took everything they could carry, and the rest they destroyed,” an officer reported to Tiberius. “They blew up more watermills than I can count, and broke a dam to pollute arable lands with saltwater.”

“Blew up?” Tiberius asked with a frown.

“They have fire rods and [Crafter]-made explosives,” Cassandra’s first mate Chloris explained. Her superior was quite astonished with the amazon’s improved grammar. Barely a year ago, she couldn’t even speak Travian well, let alone Lycean. “More inaccurate than ours, but fiery all the same.”

It seemed Zama had learned about Kairos’ successes with [Crafter]-made explosive weapons and incorporated them into his own strategy. Lycean intel had also confirmed the presence of elephants and Alexandrian sphinxes in the Valian general’s army, which would both present a hard challenge in the field.

Thankfully, the Lycean army had the sizable advantage of an operational fleet with allied ports. Their vessels had sunk supply ships meant for Zama’s army in the southeast, disrupting the general’s supply line. Time was on their side, at least for now.

“What about the villagers?” Cassandra asked her officers.

“The Valians leave them alive if they don’t resist their requisitions. They even issue notes promising reparations once the ‘legitimate Thessalan government’ has established order in the region and removed the ‘usurpers’ from power. He even promised a tax decrease after the war.”

At least Zama had some embers of honor, though it could be pragmatism at work. The general couldn’t hope to secure the region without rallying the locals to Mithridates’ cause. As such, he had to present himself as the lesser evil and liberator representing the ‘true’ government.

But then again, I heard he said nothing and watched when Mithridates sank Thessala, Cassandra thought. Quite hypocritical to condemn us for razing Orichalcos and then support a would-be tyrant into doing the same with another city.

It took until nightfall for the troops to reach the tall white walls of Apollonia. Located at the mouth of a river flowing into the sea, this port was the foremost Thessalan city-state aligned with Lyce. Towers staffed with archers and ballistas protected every inch of the fortifications, while only a single stone bridge allowed travelers to cross the deep moat. The iron gates opened at Cassandra’s approach while horn-wielders announced her group’s arrival.

Though the city remained nominally open to trade, the local archons had instituted martial law. Half the shops were closed, while most of the fish market’s wares were requisitioned by the militia. The forges worked nonstop to produce more shields, more swords, more armor, with Dispater personally bankrolling the entire effort. Sometimes, Cassandra wondered if the man’s pockets were bottomless.

Refugees had also flocked to the safety of the walls from the countryside. The market streets had transformed into dens of improvised tents and shacks where farmers sold their few possessions for food and shelter. With the requisitions, the price of common products had skyrocketed beyond the poorest citizens’ income. The sight sadly reminded Cassandra of the famines of her youth, long before Histria, the [Horn of Abundance], and the [Golden Fleece] solved Travia’s food problems.

“I’m organizing a grain dole and bread distributions to the refugees from our excess shipments,” Tiberius said, his eyes full of sorrow as he gazed at the starving refugees. “But I’m not sure we can keep it after we leave the city. Once we go into the field, we’ll need all the supplies we can get.”

“Why go into the field?” Cassandra asked with a frown as they approached the villa the city’s archons had granted Dispater as his headquarters. “Zama is trying to lure us into battle because he can’t live off the land forever. We need to order the villagers to take their crops and retreat behind the walls, so as to starve him out first. The small towns he has taken can’t supply his army for long.”

“I know, but none of us have the final say.”

Cassandra sighed. “We’ll have to convince your father somehow.” Before he kills us all, she thought.

After climbing down from their horses, Cassandra and her husband made their way into the villa under the watch of Lycean guards. Neither of them removed their armor as they entered the ‘war room.’ The smell of rich food hung in the air alongside the faint colored smoke of incense burners. Maps and scrolls covered a mahogany table next to half-eaten roasted chicken and fruit baskets, while a wealth of jars, statues, and Thessalan tapestries decorated the room.

The city is starving and Dispater eats like a king, Cassandra thought grimly. The contrast with the likes of Kairos and Sertorius, who usually ate lowly dishes with their men, couldn’t be starker.

Speaking of Dispater, Cassandra’s father-in-law was sitting alone near the table while stamping letters with a pink seal. Ultor waited behind him like a towering shadow, an enormous curved sword in one hand and a rectangular, lion-shaped shield in the other. The [Demigod] appraised Cassandra and her husband in silence before offering a polite nod.

“Ah, Tiberius, Cassandra.” Dispater greeted them with a smile before inviting them to sit with him. To his credit, he was wearing armor and seemed ready to defend the city at any moment. “I’m afraid Apollonia’s archons already took a bite of the dinner.”

“I will consider it a fair deal if they provide reinforcements in return,” Tiberius grumbled as he and his wife sat around the table. Only Ultor remained on his feet. “How many soldiers did they agree to lend us?”

“Eight thousand,” Dispater replied as he folded a letter. “How did the sorties go?”

“Could be worse,” Cassandra replied, trying to stay optimistic. “We managed to ambush some of the foragers and most farmers followed our directions to hide behind the fortified walls.”

“It could be better,” Dispater said with a hint of gruffness. “The smoke could be seen from Apollonia.”

Cassandra sighed as she removed her helmet, the steel shining from the light of the room’s torches. “Zama’s foragers always manage to strike where we least expect it. I think it’s probably the [Eye of Athena].”

The Old World artifact was said to grant its user the goddess Athena’s wisdom and strategic foresight. Though Orgonos’ blessing had made most of Kairos’ allies and officers invisible to divination, Cassandra couldn’t say the same for the rest of the army nor the Thessalans.

“It’s a tragedy for the victims, but in the end it’s just a psychological trick,” Tiberius pointed out calmly. “Zama doesn’t have the siege equipment to take fortified cities with strong walls such as Apollonia. His logistical situation isn’t great either. Our fleet is disrupting his maritime supply lines. His cavalry can operate over vast distances, but the few towns he has taken can’t feed his army for long. He will be forced to stay close to the south-eastern ports unless we go challenge him directly.”

“That’s the reason for these raids,” Cassandra added. “He’s trying to provoke us so he can decisively defeat us in a straight battle.”

“As far as provocations go, it’s working,” Dispater grumbled. “The archons pressure me to kick him out of their lands, especially since Zama’s men portray them as an illegitimate government to anyone who will listen. They want a swift resolution to this war.”

“Don’t we all?” Cassandra replied as her eyes turned cold. She had little patience for whiners who asked others to fight their own wars. “But sometimes, we don’t get all we want.”

Dispater set aside his letter to look at his daughter-in-law. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“To offer a war of attrition rather than battle,” Cassandra said firmly.

“We must order the local farmers to take or burn their crops and to hide behind the fortifications, send more mobile units to ambush the foraging parties in terrains that favor us, and slowly wear Zama’s army down,” Tiberius added. “Most of his troops are made up of mercenaries of dubious loyalty who can be subverted or demoralized.”

Dispater squinted in skepticism. “We can’t win with hunger alone, my son. For each supply ship our fleet sinks, two more reach Zama. He won’t starve anytime soon.”

“He won’t starve so long as he remains close to the few ports he controls,” Tiberius replied. “The bulk of his army can’t advance far, and if Kairos successfully makes a piercing advance in the south, then we will eventually be able to surround Zama from all sides.”

Cassandra noticed that her husband had wisely avoided mentioning Sertorius. Perhaps he was afraid using the name would only encourage his father to try overshadowing his son-in-law. “Speaking of Kairos,” Cassandra said, “any news?”

At Dispater’s conflicted expression, Cassandra could tell something had gone wrong. “I was writing an answer to a report from the southern army,” he said. “Our allies managed to land at Boeotia, shattered the Orthian army, captured Queen Euthenia, and are now besieging Orthia itself.”

“That’s great news,” Tiberius rejoiced with a smile on his face. “Everything went according to plan.”

Dispater frowned and joined his hands in a thoughtful pose. “Kairos was grievously wounded in action and your brother-in-law has taken full command.”

Cassandra’s heart skipped a beat while her husband froze. “How wounded?” she asked in worry.

“He’s comatose,” Dispater replied. “He and Mithridates had an aerial duel before the whole army, before the Poison Emperor blew up his own dragon in a final act of spite. The healers say that Kairos will eventually recover from his wounds, but maybe not before months pass.”

Cassandra suppressed a sigh of relief. Thank the gods you’ve survived worse, Kairos, she thought.

“And Mithridates?” Tiberius asked, his jaw clenching. “Is he dead?”

“His supporters maintain he’s alive, but he’s probably wounded too. As for Sertorius…” Dispater sneered. “He says that although he had ‘productive discussions’ with the Orthian Queen, the city refused to surrender. They might be bogged down for weeks or months besieging Orthia.”

Tiberius raised an eyebrow. “Productive discussions? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Dispater replied. “But your sister tells me her husband spends more time interrogating Euthenia than spending time with her.”

Now is not the time for infighting, Cassandra thought with fatalism. “Sir, why would Sertorius break his vows of marriage with a foreign queen?”

“Because even though Sertorius and my daughter used the [Golden Fleece], healers say no child is on the way. While Queen Euthenia is unmarried.” A flash of hate and paranoia flared in Dispater’s gaze. “I’m sure that treacherous shark sees her as the key to legitimizing Lyce’s rule over the Thessalan League once the dust settles.”

“He can’t afford to do that, Father,” Tiberius said, trying to reassure him. “Not now at least. It would break his alliance with us and he needs it to win. Even if your suspicions are confirmed, we still have time to deal with it.”

“And maybe it’s just a question of time,” Cassandra argued. “Julia and Andromache didn’t conceive children immediately even with the [Golden Fleece]. I’m sure your daughter will have a good surprise in a month or so.”

She noticed Tiberius’ eyes widening ever so slightly at her side, before he corrected his expression.

Thankfully, her words seemed to have mollified Dispater. “Whatever the case we can’t expect southern reinforcements for a while, and Talos’ Cradle will probably produce another automaton army soon.”

“They will have to attack the resistance in the east first to protect the Cradle,” Tiberius said. “They won’t reinforce Zama. Time favors us, Father.”

Dispater remained silent a few seconds before glancing at his bodyguard. “Ultor, what do you think?”

The gladiator bristled. “Lord Dispater, I do not have military strategy training.”

“I still want your opinion as a warrior and [Demigod].”

Ultor looked at the maps on the table for a moment, examining the Thessalan League’s terrain and weighting his answer. He’s sharper than he looks, Cassandra thought. The gladiator reminded her of Agron, a powerful warrior whose brutish exterior hid a thoughtful disposition.

“Weakening a foe before a fight will never be a bad strategy,” Ultor replied. “But battles are waged in the mind as well as the field. I don’t see anyone supporting a leader who lets the enemy pillage their lands forever. This would be possible in Lyce, where men have a spirit strong as steel. I am not impressed with these Thessalan towns’ urge to surrender at the first sign of difficulty.”

He isn’t wrong, Cassandra admitted. The fear of the Thalassocrator had already shaken the Thessalan city-states enough, and inactivity might make them wonder if they had backed the right horse. But we still aren’t ready.

“We will have to give battle to Zama eventually,” Cassandra conceded. “But with more allies and not on his terms.”

“This seems wiser,” Ultor agreed. “If we move now, our enemy may lure us into a trap. But if we pressure him enough, he will come to us.”

Dispater considered his answer, glancing at the map as he calculated his odds of victory.

“Very well,” he said with an air of finality. “Attrition it is.”

Cassandra struggled not to sigh in relief. The man’s caution had prevailed.

“I will send envoys to deal with Zama’s mercenaries,” Dispater declared. “No matter what your minotaur believes, Cassandra, some wars can be won with coins. In the meantime, you will ambush Zama’s foragers and scouts whenever possible.”

“Lord Dispater, if I may,” Ultor said. “Let me join your son and good daughter in the field. I run faster than any horse and strike with greater strength than a battering ram. Swords and spears will break on my skin. I will catch up to the horsemen and slaughter them before they can flee.”

Dispater denied him. “You are our secret trump card, too precious to risk in the field.”

“My presence would give hope to our allies and strike fear into the enemies’ hearts,” Ultor insisted. “This phase of the battle is waged in the minds, Lord Dispater. And no man may inspire awe like I do.”

“Tales of a [Demigod] on our side will demoralize the Valians,” Tiberius agreed. “Father, what good is an ultimate weapon if we don’t use it?”

When Dispater wouldn’t answer, Cassandra turned to Ultor. “If I may ask, sir Ultor,” she said, “why did you join this war? For money?”

“No,” the [Demigod] replied. “As I stated to Lord Dispater when he hired me, the money is simply a matter of reputation. I spend all I earn on better weapons and I purchased my freedom decades ago.”

“Then what motivates you?” Cassandra pushed.

“Boredom,” the gladiator replied bluntly. “I have ruled at the apex of my world for many years. Neither [Heroes] nor beasts have been able to quicken my pulse. I yearn for a true victory, purchased with sweat and blood. I hope that this war of [Demigods] will satisfy me.”

“It is blood that you want more than gold, my friend?” Dispater finally cracked a thin smile, amused by the gladiator’s forthrightness. “Very well. I will let you feast on appetizers before we move on to the main course.”

Afterward, after having discussed how to organize the ambush parties, Cassandra and Tiberius retired for the night. Their bedchambers were a comfortable boudoir with expensive furnishing, far more luxurious than the tents outside the walls. It even had a small balcony, giving the couple an impeccable view of the garden. Cassandra couldn’t help but feel a little guilty as she set her armor aside and slipped into the bed.

“I’m relieved,” she admitted. “I was truly worried your father would have us challenge Zama head-on.”

“My Father may be stubborn, but he is no idiot,” Tiberius replied as he unclothed and joined her under the bed sheet. “And you were wrong.”

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“About the [Golden Fleece].” He raised his fingers to count months. “If we calculate the timeline of her children’s birth, Kairos probably impregnated Lady Julia on the way back from Achlys, right after he secured the artifact. It took more months for Lady Andromache to conceive a child with him under the same circumstances.”

“Yes, because she was curs—” Cassandra stopped, as the truth hit her like a wall of bricks. “You think someone cursed Sertorius and your sister with infertility?”

Tiberius nodded slowly. “That’s the only reason I see for such a powerful artifact to fail. And considering the [Golden Fleece] is a Rank 4 item—”

“The curse would have to come from a [God] to transcend its power.” Only one of them had a direct interest in leaving Sertorius childless. “Lycaon. But how?”

“That’s what I’m asking myself. Maybe the wolf-god used an agent who couldn’t get close enough for the kill and settled on something lighter.”

“But why curse Sertorius and not Julia?” Cassandra asked with a frown, spotting a hole in the theory. “Her son ruined the entire plan.”

“Maybe it’s not Sertorius who has been affected,” Tiberius replied grimly. “Maybe Lycaon’s agents couldn’t get to him and struck my sister with infertility instead.”

Maybe… but Cassandra had spent enough time around Sertorius to know that the man was relentlessly ambitious and lacking in scruples. She found it unlikely that he hadn’t looked for alternative options after his marriage failed to bear fruit, and yet he remained childless to this day as far as she knew.

But then, why could Julia conceive a son?

And how could Lycaon’s cultists, if they were responsible, even gain access to Sertorius? Maybe they had infiltrated Kairos’ wedding the same way Mithridates’ agents used the opportunity to poison Prince Critias?

Her husband shook Cassandra out of her reverie as he positioned himself above her. “But whatever,” Tiberius said, his warm breath on her. “I’m not cursed.”

“Mmm,” Cassandra playfully looked into his eyes while her hands moved to his lower parts. “I require proof.”

“If you could choose, would you rather have a daughter,” he asked her as his hand moved between her thighs, “or a son?”

“Why not both? It worked with Jul—” Cassandra let out a little moan as he started pleasuring her. His lips moved to her neck while his fingers worked wonders.

He has grown better at this, Cassandra thought, her breath hastening as she kissed his collarbone. Their first nights had been clumsy, if loving, but Tiberius had quickly improved. His hands explored her body, in preparation for lovemaking. Much better…

And then he stopped halfway.

“What’s happening?” Cassandra asked softly. “It’s not right to leave me wanting…”

“Do you hear that?” Tiberius asked as he looked at the balcony with a deep frown.

Cassandra’s hand impulsively reached for her spear, fearing an assassin had somehow managed to slip inside the villa. Tiberius stopped her by putting a finger on his mouth, his wife turning quiet as she focused.

The sound… yes, Cassandra heard it now. It came from outside the walls, far away from them. But there was no mistaking it.

Howls in the night.

Wolves.

The moon was almost full and the wolves were out for blood.

The temple of Histria was empty, and only the gods looked on her.

What a varied lot, Julia thought as she observed the statues. The likes of Persephone and Orgonos stood side by side with the [Idols] of Kairos, Thales, Cassandra, Agron, Andromache, and even Aglaonice. I wonder if mine will join them soon.

It would have already, if Julia had agreed to pay the ghastly price her [Legend] required.

“Mmm…”

Julia looked at the children in her arms, both of them wrapped in purple clothes. While Aurelius slept soundly, her little Rhea was slowly waking up. She had inherited her mother’s excellent sense of hearing.

“Shush,” Julia whispered as she lured her daughter back to sleep. “It’s alright, Rhea. It’s just a sphinx.”

“Excuse me?” An offended voice asked out of nowhere as Aglaonice’s winged shadow emerged from behind her [Idol]. “Just a sphinx?”

“I kept some of your kindred as pets back in Lyce.” And they didn’t talk half as much. “I took a big risk coming here without my bodyguards. I hope it will be worth it.”

Aglaonice landed before Julia, glancing at the children with curiosity. “Have you told anyone else?”

“My, what a sinister way to say it.” Julia chuckled. “Someone more suspicious would suspect you of treachery.”

“Me?” Aglaonice put a paw on her breasts. “I am the most loyal, humble sphinx you will ever meet.”

Which wasn’t a high bar to reach. To think Aglaonice was arrogant enough to demand a meeting at the feet of her own statue… “To answer your question, no, I haven’t told anyone else of this meeting,” Julia replied as Rhea closed her eyes. “Not even Caenis, and I hide almost nothing from her.”

“Wise. Now, a disloyal sphinx would thank you and say you have fallen into a trap and gloat, but I am not that kind of cat.” She extended a paw. “Can I?”

After a moment of silence, where Julia strongly considered ending things right there and now, Histria’s queen handed her son Aurelius to Aglaonice. The wily sphinx took the child with delicateness, holding him against her breast as if she were his mother. “What a delightful runt,” Aglaonice said. “Such a sweet, fragile thing. To think some want him dead…”

“Have you identified the mole?” Julia asked coldly. Once she would have answered with a witty word, but she had little patience as far as her family’s safety was concerned. “My own investigation came up empty.”

“Of course I suspect someone, but suspicion isn’t proof. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you anyway.” Aglaonice grinned. “Hence we’ll spring our little trap. Do you have the potion?”

“I asked Kairos to craft them for me and Aurelia before his departure.” Though he had warned her against the possible side-effects. “General Petra will leave after the full moon to reinforce my husband, and I am tempted to go with them. I have received worrying news about Kairos’ health and Beast cult activity in the Thessalan League.”

“Your husband won’t die.” Aglaonice smirked. “I won’t let him perish until he fulfills his end of our bargain.”

Julia studied the sphinx’s expression. “If you had asked him to take you to bed, my husband would have told me,” she said with a sly smile. “It’s something more childish.”

“I wouldn’t mind having your husband’s little spear in me, but my horoscope told me that the nymph would have my head if I tried to get in his good graces.” Aglaonice scoffed. “And I like life more than sex, thank you very much.”

“The nymph?” Julia chuckled. “I’m offended you think Andromache would kill you before I did.”

“Like all saints, my kindness will go unappreciated by the ungrateful masses.” Aglaonice whispered words of power as a green glow surrounded Aurelius. “The wolves will come out on the full moon. Wait for my signal, and all will be fine.”

Julia winced as she saw the magic take effect. “Will there be long-term consequences?”

“For him? No.” Aglaonice’s smirk showed her sharp, lioness fangs. “Not unless they kill him first.”