Unbelievable. Truly unbelievable.
Hades stood beside Mortarion, his scythe tilted slightly, the pure black blade reflecting the dim moonlight of Barbarus.
He stared in shock at the two bloodied boys.
Mortarion had already wrapped them up with bandages and medical gel, turning them into something akin to mummies, yet the bloodstains still bore witness to the near-death ordeal they had endured.
The boy named Antaeus was broad-shouldered and large-handed.
Now, he lay there with blood streaming from his seven orifices, all ten fingernails completely torn off.
Antaeus had dragged himself to the summit, leaving behind a long trail of blood. Hades had seen it clearly on his way up.
But the other boy…
The other boy had truly stunned both Mortarion and Hades.
This child—this boy named Bast—had climbed to the summit from the cliffside.
He hadn't taken the designated path at all. Instead, he had chosen to scale the cliffs!
No one had thought anyone would attempt that route, as it wasn't even considered a path. Because of this, the Death Guard hadn't stationed any apothecaries or guards there.
What kind of lunatic is this…?
Even Hades, who had seen the horrors of war, couldn't help but marvel at the sight of this boy, whose arms and legs had been ground to a bloody mess.
"I heard noises from the cliffside," Mortarion said slowly as he picked up the two boys, preparing to head down the mountain.
"So I walked over… and saw him, hanging onto the cliff for dear life, staring straight at me."
"Unbelievable."
Mortarion shook his head.
"Why didn't he just take the main road?" Hades voiced his confusion.
Mortarion shrugged.
"The cliffside faces the wind. The poison gas there disperses more easily and doesn't accumulate as heavily."
"So you're saying… the gas was thinner on that side?"
"Relatively thinner, yes."
"But only relatively," Hades muttered, glancing at Bast's ruined arms.
"That's why I acknowledged his resilience," Mortarion replied.
<+>
Temporary Mess Hall.
At a four-person table, Antaeus was stuffing a cornbread bun into his mouth while a bowl of porridge sat in front of him.
Beside him, Bast was also eating, shoveling spoonfuls of porridge into his mouth with great effort.
The porridge tasted odd, but for two kids who had just woken up from unconsciousness, it was a feast.
Across from them, two other boys watched them curiously.
"Damn, guys, the last round of selection ended days ago. How did you only just get in?"
One boy squinted at them mischievously, flashing a sly grin.
"Don't tell me… you guys are related to some bureaucrat or something?"
His companion immediately smacked him.
"Don't talk nonsense!"
Io whispered sharply to his friend, Lerna.
Io gave an awkward yet apologetic smile to the two boys across from him.
"Sorry, my friend doesn't have much of a brain."
"Hey! What do you mean—"
Io pinched Lerna under the table again, and this time, Lerna finally shut up.
Antaeus, having finally swallowed his steamed bun, lifted his head and looked at Io seriously.
"My name is Antaeus," he muttered.
"Io."
Io straightened his face and solemnly extended a hand toward Antaeus.
Antaeus hesitated for a moment before reaching out and shaking it.
"I'm Lerna!"
The other boy quickly shoved his hand into the mix, grinning playfully.
Now, there was only one person left at the table. The boys all turned their eyes toward Bast.
Noticing their attention, the pale-skinned boy immediately flushed red. He dropped his head, staring hard at the table leg.
"Bast," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Antaeus blinked, realizing the boy beside him might not be very comfortable with socializing.
Io tactfully let go of Antaeus's hand and, at the same time, pried Lerna's hand away too.
"Antaeus, Bast, we can try to share information," Io said.
"The Death Guard's selection rules aren't exactly what they publicly claim."
"At least so far, the first round wasn't what they made it seem."
"Wait, what?!"
Antaeus cut him off in shock.
"I thought we had to reach the summit to pass the selection?!"
"No, I asked around, and as long as you—"
Io's eyes suddenly widened.
"Wait… you didn't actually climb all the way to the top, did you?!"
"Yeah! Wasn't that the point?!"
"Holy shit!!!"
Lerna practically shouted in the middle of the mess hall.
"Dude, you seriously climbed to the summit?!"
Antaeus flinched at their reaction—why were they acting like this?
"You guys… didn't climb to the top?"
"No! You're the first person I've ever seen who actually made it!"
Lerna kept yelling.
"Hey, everyone! Look! We got a guy who actually made it to the summit!"
"Hey!"
Io had just opened his mouth to tell Lerna to keep it down, but it was already too late—
SMACK
A firm flick to the forehead landed on Lerna's head.
"Keep it down, brat."
Hades stood there, holding a half-eaten bowl of porridge in one hand while the other hovered mid-air, having just disciplined the noisy kid.
Lerna turned around and saw the veteran looming over him—a man built like a war machine, even larger than most giants.
He wore simple work clothes, and the exposed skin on his arms and shoulders was covered in a dense network of scars.
A massive scar ran straight across the left side of his face, extending into silver-white metal. His left brain had been replaced with cybernetics, and his glowing red eye stared icily at Lerna.
Lerna shuddered, feeling like half of his soul had just left his body.
"Y-Yes, sorry..."
He instantly shrank in his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible. Io sat stiff and straight beside him, too nervous to move.
Hades blinked and scratched his head. Why was it that whenever someone else was watching over the place, nothing like this ever happened?
He shifted his gaze to Antaeus and Bast—the two most heavily injured boys, who had only just woken up today.
Hades considered the situation. All the recruits were present. If he showed favoritism toward these two now, it might affect the second round of selection.
But... since these two had managed to climb to the very top, maybe they deserved a small opportunity.
It was up to them whether they could seize it.
"Well? How are you, Antaeus, Bast?"
Hades looked at the two little brats in front of him with amusement. Antaeus was trying his best to meet his gaze, while Bast looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and disappear.
"I-I'm very… very good, sir!"
Antaeus struggled to keep his voice steady, but the sheer pressure radiating from Hades was overwhelming.
Hades turned his gaze to Bast, who nodded so hard it looked like his head might fly off.
How the hell was the same kid who climbed a damn cliff this socially anxious?
Hades had no idea, but he kept his expression controlled, maintaining his usual air of authority in front of the boys.
"Good."
His voice was deep and powerful, carrying across the entire mess hall. Every child present could hear him.
"As the only two recruits who climbed to the summit, you have done well."
"If you're still feeling unwell, tell the Apothecaries. You need to be fully recovered before the second round of selection."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
Antaeus puffed out his chest, while Bast kept bowing his head like a chicken pecking rice.
Hades frowned slightly. Why didn't these two have the humility or confidence he expected?
What he didn't realize was that his sheer presence was so overwhelming that it left little room for either.
But he was still Hades—not someone who let his moods dictate how he treated people.
He was willing to give these two a chance.
"Eat plenty."
Hades shot them a meaningful look before turning and leaving the mess hall.
The moment he was gone, Lerna let out a dramatic gasp and collapsed onto the table.
"Holy shit... I thought he was gonna strangle me."
"Don't say stuff like that," Io said, still tense. In reality, his whole body was drenched in sweat from the encounter.
That man's presence was just too much.
Antaeus, however, simply stared at the door Hades had walked through.
Could he become someone like that?
And what did he mean by eat plenty?
<+>
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