He smirked. “Same as what I always do, Solren. Going out and getting even.”
“What does he mean by that?” Nicander asked as they stepped through the portal and vanished.
Apollymi laughed. “Those are my Stygian Thánati. They hunt and slay the Dark-Hunters who prey on Daimons.”
Stryker smiled as he pointed to the ornate display of weapons on the far wall. “Those are their trophies, taken from every Hunter they’ve slain.”
“Are they rewarded for it?”
Stryker’s eyes flashed red at the stupidity of that question. “Of course they are. Satisfaction in the destruction of your enemy is its own reward. No one understands that better than their commander.”
“And who is their leader?”
“My son, Urian.”
Urian froze asthey came up against a familiar power.
Eleni was the first to step toward it, but he caught her arm and shook his head. “You need to return. Every one of you.”
All six members of his guard turned in unison to gape at him, as those were never the orders he gave.
His second-in-command, Spawn, in particular, had rebellion in his eyes.
Urian tightened his grip on his shield. “I mean it. Spawn, take my son and the others and lead them back.”
He saw that same rebellion in his son’s eyes, but he knew better than to question him.
As did Spawn. They’d fought together too many times for him to start questioning him now. “Aye,kyrios.”
Urian stayed behind to cover their retreat. They had barely vanished when he was hit with a blast so hard it staggered him, but somehow he managed to remain standing.
“Why do you carry the shield of Styxx of Didymos?”
“I don’t.”
Another blast almost tore his arm off. “You think I don’t recognize that symbol!” The fury in that tone almost shattered his eardrums.
Urian sent his own blast toward his attacker. Though he couldn’t see him, he hoped he was close to the mark.
It was then he saw Acheron. He planted his staff in the ground and used it as leverage so that he could kick him back with both of his feet.
Urian stumbled back and landed on his ass. He scrambled to rise and used his powers to gather his kopis back into his hand.
“Who are you?”
He lifted his chin with pride. “Urian Strykeros.”
That took the anger out of him. “The one they call Thánatago.”
“You’ve heard of me?”
Before he could blink, Acheron was in front of him. No longer human in appearance, he was in a full Charonte form. Horns, wings, and mottled blue skin.
Stunned, Urian couldn’t breathe. He’d always been told that no Charonte existed outside those that served Apollymi. What the hell was this bastard?
“You insult me with that shield and by killing my soldiers,” Acheron growled.
“Your Dark-Hunters insult me by murdering my family.”
