“Why did you come with me, Sol?” Epona asked.

  “I decided to follow you, L-Lady Epona,” the solar god replied.

  Both deities were flying toward the summit of the Areopagus, an inactive volcano.

  “Why?” Epona asked, surprised.

  “I believe you could become a great lea—leader,” Sol answered with a smile.

  “I’m just a foul-mouthed farm girl who doesn’t know much about the world. There’s really nothing special about me, Sol. You, on the other hand, are a beautiful and majestic god—I’m nothing compared to you,” Epona replied shyly.

  “It is very di—difficult to find goddesses so humble, yet so magnanimous, as you,” Sol said.

  “I think a leader should be more like Athena, Sol. Manipulative and cunning—those are parts of leadership. If I were a leader… I’d be betrayed easily,” Epona said sadly.

  “And don’t you think peo—people might give their best under transparent, well-intentioned leadership? Instead of manipulating your per—personnel with lies and hiding your true goals?” Sol asked.

  Epona sighed.

  “I always thought helping others would be rewarded. I believed that doing everything possible to support my siblings was necessary to earn their love and trust. But once I became a burden to them, they simply tried to kill me. That’s why I understand why Athena is the way she is,” Epona replied, pain in her expression as she touched the scar on her jaw.

  “I’m sorry,” Sol said.

  “I’ve met wonderful people nonetheless. And I think when a group of individuals help and support each other, they can achieve something truly great,” Epona said, smiling at the blond god.

  Sol nodded and smiled back.

  They reached the summit of the volcano, where Anpiel was crucified over the crater. He was naked, completely drenched in blood, his eyes covered with a blindfold.

  “Wretches,” Epona said angrily.

  Floating above Anpiel was a levitating sword—white, with bluish flame-like energy emanating from its blade. Epona recognized it immediately as the infamous sword Chronoxiphos that Ares had mentioned.

  “Wait, E-Epona… this looks very suspicious. It could be a t-trap,” Sol warned.

  “I know,” Epona replied, scanning the surroundings.

  “A trap? I was waiting for you here,” a voice said.

  Epona and Sol turned toward it. They saw Khonsu, wrapped in bandages and blood, missing an arm and his left eye. He was breathing heavily, but a macabre smile twisted his face.

  “Who are you?” Epona asked.

  “I am Khonsu, and I am tired of being humiliated by you Orniskem. But I won’t die without taking one of your heads to great Ares,” the evil Egyptian god said.

  Epona moved to act, but Sol stopped her with his arm.

  “Let me ha—handle him,” Sol said.

  “Handle me?” Khonsu said, bursting into laughter.

  Neither Epona nor Sol noticed the dried blood at their feet. Khonsu manipulated the liquid, forming red, spiked cords from the blood that bound both gods tightly.

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  “How does it feel? How does it feel to be strangled by your friend’s blood right now?” Khonsu laughed as he struggled to stand, leaning on his staff.

  “This… is… nothing!” Epona shouted as the cords tore into her, blood spilling from her arms, legs, and neck.

  Khonsu approached and caressed the goddess’s face.

  “Don’t worry, my dear. Soon I’ll crucify you alongside your beloved malakim friend. You drove me to these atrocities,” the evil god said.

  “Re… release her!” Sol shouted furiously, blood also seeping from his wounds.

  “What did you say? What did you say, you stuttering piece of shit?” Khonsu yelled, smashing Sol’s face with his staff, which he controlled mentally due to his missing arm.

  “If you want to stop me, do it,” Khonsu added with a diabolical smile.

  Epona managed to bite down and rip off one of Khonsu’s fingers.

  “Damn bitch!” Khonsu roared, striking Epona with his staff.

  She spat blood, one of her teeth falling out. Since she had only taken a few drops of ambrosia to heal her self-inflicted wounds from the fight with Al-Qaum, she didn’t have much ichor in reserve to recover quickly.

  “Do you think your acts of rebellion won’t have consequences, bitch?” Khonsu screamed, beating Epona again and again.

  “Enough! Kill me, but don’t hurt her anymore!” Sol shouted indignantly.

  Epona muttered something unintelligible.

  “What did you say, whore?” Khonsu asked, forcing the blood cords to lift her head. Her face was covered in blood, her breathing ragged.

  “I said… I’m going to kill you, you son of a bitch!” Epona shouted.

  “Oh, I see you still have plenty of strength, beautiful. Let’s see how much you have left,” Khonsu replied, turning his back on them.

  “Have either of you read the Bible?” Khonsu asked, using telepathy to construct two massive wooden crosses.

  “A man named Jesus, supposedly the son of the Hebrew god, is crucified alongside two thieves on a hill called Golgotha. It would be interesting to recreate that, wouldn’t you say?”

  Khonsu stared at Sol.

  “You—you will be Jesus. He’s often depicted as a fair-haired shepherd with light eyes, just like you. You’ll be the centerpiece of my little play,” the Egyptian god said with a malicious grin.

  At that moment, he felt Epona’s divine power continuing to grow, even though she hadn’t moved.

  “No matter how much you struggle, there’s no way to break these cords—they’re absorbing your ichor and mana,” Khonsu laughed.

  “It’s simple. If my divine power vanished, it might worry my friends. But I’ll show them I can get out of this predicament on my own,” Epona said with a defiant smile.

  Meanwhile, Rodrigo, Athena, and Horus had entered Ares’ palace, only to find a massive dark corridor without walls, surrounded by columns, with no visible ceiling.

  “Don’t separate,” Athena said, turning to her companions—only to find herself alone.

  She crossed her arms and shook her head, closing her eyes.

  “So now you’re using cheap tricks too, brother?” she muttered.

  Horus walked through the vast labyrinth of columns.

  “I don’t know what Ares intends with this, but I suppose we can’t keep wasting time,” the falcon god said.

  Rodrigo walked slowly among the columns. He felt uneasy, unable to sense anyone else’s presence, as if he’d been cut off from the world.

  “I can’t feel any of the girls… are they okay?” he wondered—then corrected himself.

  “No. They’re fine. I have to trust them.”

  He kept walking, the corridor seemingly endless, until he saw a light in the distance and decided to approach it.

  At last, Rodrigo reached a chamber unlike the monotonous columned halls. In the center stood a dark-skinned man beside a forge, his back turned, hammering what looked like a sword.

  “Well, I didn’t think you’d be the one to make it here. After all, you’re the only one without a reward from Lord Ares,” the man said.

  “Are you one of Ares’ Keres?” Rodrigo asked, taking a fighting stance.

  “That’s right. My name is Ogun, the Yoruba god of metallurgy—and Ares’ Keres number four,” the man replied.

  He wore a red spiked crown and a massive, elongated necklace made of multiple rings that covered his neck and part of his mouth. His body was covered in white protrusions that looked heat-forged. His hair, eyes, and eyebrows were stark white. Red rings encircled his arms and legs, and a black skirt covered much of his lower body.

  “Then you’re going to tell me where Ares is right now!” Rodrigo shouted angrily.

  “And what would you do if you faced Lord Ares?” Ogun asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’d defeat him to save my friend,” Rodrigo replied.

  Ogun shook his head and sighed.

  “You couldn’t even touch me—and yet you dare speak so brazenly of our lord Ares?” the Yoruba god said.

  At that moment, as if rising from the ground, a gigantic metal sarcophagus appeared behind Rodrigo. It resembled an iron maiden, open and lined with spikes. Its design bore Yoruba features: the carved face of an African woman at the top, an ornate spiked crown, and reliefs of mounted warriors along its surface.

  Before Rodrigo could react, the sarcophagus snapped shut around him. Blood began to seep from the seam.

  “It’s a disgrace that the other Keres were defeated by such arrogant insects,” Ogun said, continuing to hammer his sword.

  Early depictions of Jesus showed him as a young, beardless shepherd, more similar to Apollo.

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