Ares sat upon his throne, drinking wine. In his left hand he held the strange golden sphere, studying it with interest.

  “Just a few more minutes and it will be ready,” he thought.

  At that moment, the sounds of combat echoed behind the door leading into Ares’ chamber. Moments later, everything fell silent. The door slowly opened, and Horus appeared, his staff still glowing in his right hand.

  “So, you are the first to reach my chambers, Horus?” Ares said calmly, a faint smile forming on his face.

  “It’s easy to escape a labyrinth of illusions when I use my left eye, the Wadjet,” the falcon god replied.

  Ares hurled his wine cup to the floor and stood up. The god of war wore his red-and-gold armor. He drew his sword and, with his other hand, unsheathed the spear he carried on his back.

  “Do you really think you can defeat me in the twenty minutes that remain?” Ares asked.

  “I’ll only need five seconds,” Horus replied, taking a combat stance as his staff began to shine.

  Meanwhile, at the peak of the Areopagus, Mitras struck the dimensional barrier again and again, yet failed to leave even a scratch.

  Inside, three crosses stood. On the left, Epona was crucified with nails made of blood driven through her hands and feet. She was naked, covered in blood, her eyes blindfolded.

  At the center, Sol was also naked, nailed through hands and feet with blood-forged spikes. A crown of thorns made of blood rested upon his head, causing blood to pour down his face. His chest had been pierced, blood flowing freely from the wound. His right arm, still bandaged, remained the same, though the cloth was now soaked in blood.

  On the right stood Anpiel, his expression unchanged, crucified and blindfolded.

  Khonsu sat before the crosses, amused as he watched Mitras’ futile attempts to break the dimensional shield. He wielded a massive spear formed of blood, using it to torture Epona and Sol while the Persian god looked on in frustration.

  Mitras’ hands began to bleed, yet he continued striking the barrier with his blade of light. Maahes appeared behind him and stopped him.

  “Enough, Mitras! There’s nothing we can do,” the lion god shouted.

  “There are gods said to have broken these walls!” Mitras cried in frustration.

  “They’re only rumors. It’s not worth hurting yourself any further,” Maahes replied, still holding him back.

  At that moment, Sol turned his gaze toward Mitras. His golden eyes shone with strength and determination. The Persian god understood the message at once and ceased his assault on the barrier.

  Sol had been born in Saturnia, like many Roman gods. However, due to political instability, when the kingdom of Saturnia clashed with Man—the realm of the Etruscan gods—Sol and his family fled while he was still young.

  In Syria, the youth became known as Elagabalus, but his cult never gained much importance, overshadowed by other solar deities such as the powerful Arinna or the just Shapash.

  One day, a priest of his modest cult—Aurelian—rose to become Roman emperor and instituted an aggressive cult centered on Sol himself.

  Curious, Sol returned to Saturnia, only to find no affection or support among the gods there. They deemed him a coward for having fled long ago. Worse still, Emperor Aurelian sought to replace all Saturnian cults with worship of Sol, proclaiming him Sol Invictus.

  The emperor was assassinated just as Sol was judged a traitor and sentenced to death. In prison, however, the god was rescued by Mitras, who helped him escape. Mitras himself was an outcast, as the Roman gods of Saturnia had never accepted Mithraism, considering Mitras a foreign deity.

  The two gods chose to leave Saturnia and wander the world in search of adventure. They developed deep trust in one another, and many believed it was because they looked so alike.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  When Mitras saw Sol’s eyes now, he knew at once that the god would not surrender—that he had a plan. Relief washed over him, for he knew his friend had not yet lost the fight.

  “Oh? Have you finally grown tired?” Khonsu mocked, raising his spear and driving it into Sol once more.

  “This is horrible,” Maahes said bitterly. “I feel like we should have been able to kill that bastard. This is all our fault.”

  “Don’t worry,” Mitras replied, surprising Maahes. “Sol will win this battle.”

  At that moment, Khonsu tried to pull his spear from Sol’s chest, but it was stuck fast.

  “What the hell is going on?” he wondered.

  Sol’s body began to glow white, and the solar crown upon his head shone with blinding intensity.

  “M–my power is to convert sunlight into sa–sacred energy,” the god said, channeling the light from his body into the spear Khonsu held. The weapon began to burn the Egyptian god’s hands.

  Khonsu screamed and dropped the spear, collapsing to the ground, unable to keep his balance without one of his legs.

  “Now that I think about it… I felt this same sensation when I tried to remove the bandage from his right arm,” Khonsu thought in terror as he struggled to rise.

  “Since you were kind enough to strip me of my clothes, I absorbed all the sunlight present here and gained enough manná to free myself. And since you are such a cruel and wicked being, these techniques must cause you great pain,” Sol said confidently.

  “H–his stutter… he’s no longer stuttering,” Khonsu said in shock.

  At that moment, the crown and the blood-nails pinning Sol to the cross shattered, and the solar god rose, floating like a divine being.

  Facing Khonsu, Sol raised his right hand to the sky and shouted, “Solis Sanctis (Sacred Sun)!”

  A white beam descended from the heavens, striking Khonsu directly and making him writhe in agony.

  Quickly, Sol used sacred rays to destroy the blood-nails binding Epona and Anpiel. Both fell to the ground. Epona, still conscious, dropped to her knees.

  Khonsu, however, began to recover.

  “Without your totema, your sacred attack isn’t strong enough to hurt me,” the Egyptian god sneered, revealing the totemas of Sol and Epona.

  “My intention was never to defeat you,” Sol admitted.

  “But I will leave that task to someone far more powerful than I.”

  Epona covered her nakedness with the bandage from her eyes and stormed toward Khonsu with her fist raised.

  “Sol!” she shouted. “Lend me some sacred power—into my fist!”

  Sol nodded and hurled a white sphere of energy toward her. She caught it in her right hand and charged at Khonsu.

  “You can’t do anything without your totema, but I can tear your guts apart with my power!” Khonsu roared.

  “Your level is so low that I don’t even need my totema to win!” the goddess shouted.

  Epona struck Khonsu in the face with all her might, screaming, “ép bóithl (Horse Strike)!”

  Khonsu’s face caved in as he was sent flying into a dimensional wall, vomiting blood. At that instant, the dimensional barrier vanished, and Khonsu collapsed unconscious on the ground.

  Epona turned to Sol and flashed a victory sign. Sol responded with a thumbs-up.

  Mitras finally entered, removing his cloak to cover the goddess’s naked body. Epona smiled and thanked him. With no ambrosia left, she looked down at her wounded body and felt sadness.

  “You were incredible,” the Persian god said.

  “You defeated him without your totemas.”

  “We ma–managed to beat him because he was already very we–weak. Under other conditions, we surely couldn’t have. W–well, I couldn’t—but Epona perhaps could,” Sol admitted.

  Epona shook her head.

  Sol retrieved the totemas from Khonsu’s unconscious body, then tossed Epona’s totema back to her. She tried to catch it and nearly dropped it.

  “What the hell are you doing, Sol?” Mitras shouted angrily.

  Epona laughed.

  “Don’t worry, Mitras. I’m just a bit clumsy,” she said.

  The Celtic goddess put on her totema, rushed to Anpiel, and gently rested his head on her lap.

  “Everything will be fine, Anpiel. I know Rodrigo will defeat that Ares,” she said, stroking the unconscious angel’s hair while eyeing the sword still floating above him with concern.

  “So that’s the famous Anpiel,” Mitras said.

  “He’s the one for wh–whom we risked our lives on this planet,” Sol added.

  “And the one you’ll die for,” Khonsu’s voice echoed.

  The Egyptian god was struggling to rise again, causing the blood throughout the area to form into spears.

  “He’s awake again,” Mitras said in shock.

  “Ba–bad weeds never die,” Sol replied.

  “Damn all of you! I’ll kill you with everything I have!” Khonsu screamed.

  At that instant, Maahes and Montu appeared behind him and struck him simultaneously, their weapons crossing in an X. Khonsu vomited blood and lost consciousness, collapsing in a pool of gore, his body split in half.

  “If he gets up again, we’ll kill him again,” Maahes said, wiping the blood from his blade.

  “What about Tania? And Rodrigo? Are they all right?” Epona asked anxiously.

  Montu appeared with Tania draped over his shoulders.

  “Tannit is fine, but unconscious. She defeated one of Ares’ most powerful Keres,” he said.

  “Rodrigo entered the Areopagus with Horus and Athena. I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Maahes added.

  Epona smiled in relief.

  “Only Ares remains. But I don’t think there’s much time left,” Mitras said, looking at the sword Chronoxiphos.

  Sol fired a beam at the sword, but it did nothing—the energy simply passed by without even touching it.

  “It will be impossible to destroy that sword. All we can do is trust those three,” he said.

  Epona nodded, continuing to stroke Anpiel’s head, like a mother comforting her child.

  “Rodrigo, I place all my trust in you. Defeat Ares,” she thought.

  But Rodrigo was still trapped inside the sarcophagus Ogun had created. Blood continued to seep from within.

  Meanwhile, a mysterious man cloaked in shadows walked calmly through the labyrinths of the Areopagus Palace.

  Athena remained lost in Ares’ maze, frustration etched on her face.

  Horus and Ares clashed weapons, the entire palace trembling with each impact.

  Less than twenty minutes remained until Anpiel’s execution.