Every strike echoed like a bell toll through Olympus.
My blade of light carved through another spirit of judgment—its golden armor splitting like dry bark, divine ichor spraying across the marble. The god collapsed with a cry, his voice already fading into mist.
I didn't stop moving.
A spell flew past me—blue fire—and I spun to find Hesperia, her palm still glowing from the cast. Her shield arm bled freely now, the divine gold of her veins exposed beneath torn skin, but she stood firm. She'd blocked two more gods while I dealt with the third.
"You're not hesitating, are you enjoying it Akhon" she said breathlessly.
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
Another pair of Olympian sentinels surged toward us from the far side of the broken temple stairs, hurling chains of lightning and binding glyphs as they ran.
I dropped low, let the first bolt fly overhead, then lunged forward, letting the system guide my strike.
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