Chapter 195

Elypso (III)

The first rays of the morning sun decked through the open windows, golden light streaming into the dark quarters. The bed quaked abruptly as a remarkably tall man grunted, shuffling to the side and cursing lowly, shading his eyes from the morning sun with his arm.

Grunting, he pulled himself up by the bed and sat on top of it, still feeling groggy, his head seemingly splitting in half.

“Guards!!” he hollered. “Where is my bath?!”

However, even after waiting for almost a minute, no reply came; the man frowned, anger surging in his eyes. Though his guards were a rowdy bunch, they were never this insubordinate. Something was wrong.

He silently moved to the side and swiftly donned his trusted iron armor set, cladding himself from head to toe before stuffing his trusted shield and mace on his back. The place... was too silent. Even if it was morning, there were always some early-risers chirping about.

Elypso moved out of his quarters and through the central building -- it was empty, silent, hollow. He paused abruptly, squinting his eyes -- smell of blood... was heavy. It practically scented the entire fortress, leading him to believe that nothing short of an actual massacre could have caused it. They have come for his head at last, it seems.

Taking a deep breath, he walked to the building’s exit, fully expecting an entire Jailer’s army to welcome him. However, even if it was the most disciplined bunch on this Crucible, they still wouldn’t be able to maintain this level of silence. However, as he approached the exit, he began to hear sounds -- crackle of the flames, sounds of the chewing, and even low chatter.

As he emerged to the open door frame, his eyes landed upon one of the most ridiculous scenes he’d ever seen in his quite lengthy and adventurous life -- a group of diversely dressed people sat around a small campfire, chewing away at the quite nice-smelling pieces of meat, occasionally chattering with each other. It was like they were a group of friends camping in a beautiful meadow, rather than what they actually were -- a group that somehow managed to kill every one of his subordinates and sneak in front of his house... only to sit down and have a meal first instead of sneak-attacking him.

He didn’t even know quite how to react to it; what was he supposed to do? Immediately attack them? Scream? Question what their brains were made of? Chat them up? Make a run for it since a group who so easily sliced through every one of his men likely wasn’t as much of a joke as they looked?

“Ah, is that the guy?” one of the men sitting said suddenly as he pointed at Elypso.

“Hm? Well, he’s pretty big and in some really heavy armor,” another man replied. “And the only survivor. So, I’m guessing, yea.”

“’Yes’ would have been enough...”

“But not nearly as fun.”

“For who?! You?!”

“Duh.”

“Did... did you just say ‘duh’?!” they just... bickered. As though he wasn’t even there. Having seen what he thought was everything, Elypso almost burst out into laughter. Especially so once he deeply scrutinized the group’s faces -- half of them seemed to children, and only one or two looked like they had any true experiences under their belt.

“Pipe down,” one of the two women, a much older one, growled at the two men suddenly, causing them to pipe down. She stood up and took out a massive warhammer, stepping forward. “Let’s kill him and be done with it.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” the other soon followed, standing up and drawing out their weapons -- all except for one, who remained in the back ranks, eyeing Elypso. It was the man whose eyes radiated experience the others lacked, Elypso noted; it was the man who killed and survived being killed plenty, who’d been through everything he himself had. But, the woman at the front struck first, her hammer descending toward Elypso.

The latter grunted and swung his shield to the side, deflecting the strike. Just as he was about to step sideways and push forward toward the man in the back, his body froze and his spirit depleted for a moment -- against his will, against every instinct in his body, he swung with his mace at the woman. He cursed in his head, cursed the curse itself. If he wasn’t bound... it would be easy. Ignore the woman. Her attacks don’t even tickle. She’s a child. Everyone is -- everyone... except for him. Elypso saw it, the faint smile -- the man knew. He knew and taunted from the distance. He knew Elypso couldn’t do anything.

It wasn’t long before he found himself on his knees -- the man... hadn’t moved. He hadn’t even attacked. He just stood there and occasionally hollered an order or two. He watched Elypso be beaten down like a dog; after all, what could he do? It wasn’t him fighting. It wasn’t the man whose actions shook the City of Mirrors, the same man who plundered the Avowed’s treasury. He hated this feeling of helplessness... even if it would pass in time.

“Wait,” the man suddenly called out before the flash of a dagger swung through Elypso’s throat, emptying his health. The latter veered his gaze up as he saw the man approaching, crouching in front of him and leaning into his ear.

“I can free you,” the man whispered softly, causing Elypso to scoff.

“Your freedom is just a different set of chains,” he replied roughly, speaking for the first time since the two encountered each other. “With this, at least... I can wait it out. Eventually, it will pass.”

“... will it?” the man’s voice dropped even further. “How long? Fiftieth crucible, no?”

“...”

“There’s no harm in telling you my group is by far the strongest,” the man said, his whispers a devil’s. “And, as such, I can lock it up. Grind the whole system to a crawl.”

“They won’t let you.”

“They don’t care.”

“...” Elypso knew the man was telling the truth. “Just for me? Quite an investment.”

“Hardly just for you,” the man continued. “I want to amass an army, Elypso. An army so large it swarms the worlds. But... waiting for others to catch up, to learn, to develop... it’s not the best way to spend my time.”

“... and what will you do with the army?” Elypso scoffed. “Rule one Crucible?”

“Yes,” the man nodded as he withdrew suddenly, a strange smile developing on his face. “One Crucible.” the strange emphasis took a moment to register with Elypso, yet, when it did, he froze -- the words came like thunder, spoken in unmatched confidence. The difference between just reigning over a Crucible and the Crucible... is not comparable. Elypso looked straight into the drawing, bedeviled blue eyes of the man. There was no doubt in them, just a hint of playfulness, the notch of madness all those who excelled possessed.

“Hah,” Elypso laughed, standing up suddenly and prompting the others of his group to suddenly all step between him and the man, their weapons all drawn against him, ready to take him down in one move. This kind of reaction... doesn’t come from his people fearing him, like Elypso’s did. It was respect, awe, and something far more soft and gentle. “Fine. In the name of Unspoken,” Elypso, in one swift motion, took off his armguard and took out a dagger, slicing through his arm and causing the blood to spray out. “By the Vow of the Heart, I enlist my Name, Rank, and Truth to the Conqueror. May the Chain bind us Forevermore.”

The spray blood suddenly stopped midair, prevented from falling, and lifted up, gobbling into a globe that spun unto itself until it became a tiny dot that shot into the man’s forehead, just between his eyebrows. The others panicked for a moment when they saw it, but he calmed them with a measly smile.

“I’m gonna have to train you,” the man said. “And gear you up.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Elypso grinned.

“And I’m looking forward to robbing you of all your current items,” the man said, grinning back.

“...” Elypso just now realized that he had effectively been defeated and that the man would be rewarded by Elypso’s whole ‘treasury’, so to say, causing him to grunt. Sighing, he relented; at the very least, he wouldn’t have been sent to that damned place again, to stew in tarnish, to be forever reminded he was a nobody. At least, now, there was hope. The difference was... that if he ever were to fall, he’d fall eternally. Tossed into the Underworld as yet another soul forgotten, in the sea of exact replicas swarming the sky.