A GHOST IN A STRANGE LAND

CHAPTER 12

Kratos was in and out of his room in an instant. There was little enough he needed to retrieve - he wore his armor as a matter of course, and neither his axe nor his spear left his side. It was only the Blades of Chaos that were left in his room most days - only brought out for sparring sessions with Cu Chulainn, and only Cu Chulainn. Mash was still far too green to face the Ghost of Sparta, even with him holding back.

Because that is who he was, who he BECAME when he held them in his hands with the intention to take a life, for all that he tried to leave that title behind.

But now, as with Ragnarök shifting from being a looming threat to an immediate one, the Blades would be needed. Whatever threats lay in wait for them in the past, he would face them fully-armed.

Cu, Medusa, and Mash were all waiting for him in the hallway outside his room, Mash having deposited her teaching materials in her room, as they had come here straight from the archives. Cu was saying something to Medusa, something that she ceased paying any attention to as Kratos exited his room, and she took an involuntary step back, her eyes widening behind her blindfold.

"What…what ARE those?" She slid around to Kratos' back, peering intently at the Blades. "Your axe fairly hums with cold foreign power, but those…." She sniffed. "They smell of…..home. And…..fire….and…." Her brow furrowed.

Cu cackled. "I TOLD you! Man's got a HELL of a nasty trump card in those blades."

Medusa was beginning to form another question when Kratos cut her off. "Later. Our focus now is the Singularity. Their tale can wait for another time."

He spared no more time with conversation, following Mash to the command chamber, Cu and Medusa trailing in his wake.

The room was bustling with activity when they arrived, technicians darting about, most either hunched over their work areas, or huddled around the large metal 'coffins' that would hold their bodies while their spirits would be sent into the past.

Da Vinci waved as they entered, motioning them over to where she stood by Romani, who was seated at what Kratos assumed was the command station - he had vague memories of Romani being in that same seat when he first arrived in Chaldea.

He wondered, idly, if that was where Olga Marie would have been, had the girl survived the fiery city.

If Da Vinci was normally filled with energy, today, it seemed as if her skin could barely contain it. "Wonderfully prompt, as always Kratos. Ready to get this show on the road?"

Kratos grunted. While he had appreciated the time he had been given to acclimate himself to this strange world he had found himself in, the days of inactivity had begun to chafe - his temper only mitigated by the fact that no true move could be made until a Singularity had been properly located.

But now, one had been, and he could begin the first step in the long journey that would, at the end, see him reunited with his world.

(He missed Atreus. He only hoped the boy had not returned to find his father missing, and no one with any idea what had become of the former god of war. Kratos was concerned what measures his son might take to find his father in that situation. Atreus had grown in many ways, but the boy was still capable of very rash actions at times.)

"So, where we headed?" asked Cu.

Romani looked up from his screen, his desk littered with paper cups, some still half filled with liquids long grown cold. "France, 1431 AD - sadly, one of the active periods of the Hundred Years War. But if you're looking to destabilize the course of human history, you're not going to do it in a lull." He sighed. "This is probably going to be emblematic of the kind of hot zones you're going to be dropping into in the other six Singularities."

Kratos wracked his brain, going over the history he had absorbed in the past week. "This was a war fought over a claim to the throne, between the nations of France and England?"

Da Vinci beamed at him. "Bravo, Kratos. Always nice to see one's student was listening. You get a gold star!"

Kratos blinked, fairly certain that the strange woman was not proposing to give him an actual star from the heavens - but from his short acquaintance with the self-proclaimed Universal Genius, he also could not completely put it past her.

Probably wisely, he chose to stay silent.

"Awww, no fun at all!" She huffed at him. "But yes, while that's a simple explanation for what something as complicated a war spanning a century becomes, you've got the essence of it - which is all we really touched on in our lessons."

She frowned. "Going by the date, both Roman and I figure it's a good bet that whatever Lev has done to distort history likely has something to do with Jeanne d'arc. The point where we'll be dropping you into the timeline is only a short period of time after she was burnt at the stake for being a witch."

"Though, don't take that assumption as fact," chimed in Romani. "While Jeanne's undoubtedly the most famous figure from that year in that area, there's all sorts of havoc Lev could have caused in that time period - particularly with a Holy Grail, which he almost HAS to have to have caused a distortion this powerful."

Romani steepled his hands. "So, your marching orders are as follows. First - investigate the time period, and determine what has been changed to cause the distortion, and correct it. Mash at least knows the broad strokes of the war, Kratos, so she'll be able to cover for your unfamiliarity with the history of our world - there really was only so much we could teach you in the time we had."

"Secondly, locate and secure the Holy Grail that was used to cause human history to veer off course. If you can get your hands on it, that should cause the Singularity to collapse, like it did with the Fuyuki Singularity." He sighed. "Though, that's probably going to involve taking it from whomever Lev's chosen to entrust it to….probably no one good, given what he was planning to do to Olga."

Romani's eyes narrowed, growing hard. "And that dovetails nicely into your third objective. Locate Lev Lainur, and bring him back. Alive if possible - a hostage to interrogate would give us much needed intelligence about who's pulling his strings - Lev was boasting about how he was part of a group - 'minds greater than the whole of humanity planned this', he said. So that means we need to know about his allies - if possible."

Da Vinci chimed in. "But that doesn't mean we're expecting you to take Lev alive at all costs - and certainly not if it jeopardizes the mission, or your lives. Use your best judgment - IF you run across Lev, and IF you can manage to restrain him, we've got a cell with his name on it. But if you can't….."

Da Vinci met his gaze, no sign of her usually whimsical nature present. "I don't think anyone in this building will shed a tear if Lev Lainur ends up in an unmarked grave somewhere in France. He chose to throw in his lot with the enemies of Humanity itself, and his hands are dripping with the blood of the people he murdered a week ago. So, if you cross paths with him, take him out of the game if you can. Alive's a bonus, but we'll celebrate just as hard if it's dead. Just balance it against the primary objective of fixing the Singularity. I expect we'll get more than one shot at Lev across the Singularities."

Kratos gave a noise of assent, hardly surprised by the orders. For all that they were putting on a brave face, Kratos had seen more than a few haunted eyes in Chaldea over the past week. Lev's treachery, and the lives he had taken, were a specter hanging over the survivors of Chaldea. They wanted vengeance for their dead in the worst way, but at least had not lost sight of the greater goal.

Romani took over from Da Vinci. "First thing you'll want to do once you arrive is locate a leyline - we didn't bother with it in the Fuyuki Singularity, but securing one will allow us to transport supplies to you - Mash will hopefully be carrying enough for the operation in her shield, but in the event this drags out beyond our expectations, or you run into something unexpected, we'll be able to ship you additional supplies or gear. It'll also stabilize our communications, and allow for you to summon additional Servants if that becomes necessary." He glanced between Medusa and Cu. "It'll also allow you to swap Servants in the field with ones at Chaldea - with our current power reserves, you're going to have to leave someone behind."

"Yeah, on that subject, you should probably take Medusa over me." interjected Cu.

Kratos blinked, honestly surprised. As eager to fight as the man had seemed, Kratos had expected him to push to be the one to accompany them over Medusa. "Explain."

Cu shrugged. "Girl said she wanted to observe you before making a decision about sticking around - well, nothing better to take the measure of a man than fighting side by side with him." He sighed. "And, as much as this pains me to admit it, she's probably a better option for scouting the surrounding area than I am as a Caster. As a Lancer, I could zip from one side of the country to the other before you could say 'Medb's a crazy bitch', but as a Caster - not so much. She's probably faster than I am right now, at least not without me pulling any crazy tricks, and scouting's all about speed. And we're going in pretty blind as is - this would let you get the lay of the land pretty quick."

Honestly, a fairly reasonable argument from the Caster. He glanced at the other Servant.

"I have no objections, M…Kratos," she said, her voice as carefully neutral as ever. "His arguments have merit."

"We decided, then?" asked Da Vinci. At Kratos' grunt, she clapped her hands. "Meravigliosa! Let's get this show on the road then."

Almost gliding across the floor, she led them down into the area where Kratos had first arrived in this time, where the three metal containers that would hold their bodies awaited, their lids raised.

To Kratos' surprise, the coffin was not as confining a fit as he had expected - though he did have to hold his axe, and the Blades, across his chest, to avoid damaging the coffin itself. Da Vinci glanced down at him, going over some final checks before sealing him in. "Ready, Kratos?"

He nodded. "Alright. Good luck out there!" She pressed a button, and with a hiss, the lid of the coffin slid into place, before clicking shut. There was a moment of pitch black, before the light source on his belt flickered into life, bathing the interior of the coffin in a pale, white light.

Kratos concentrated on his breathing, pushing aside the unpleasant feelings of confinement as a metallic voice spoke words of 'unsummoning' and other terms that held little meaning to the Spartan, then began a countdown.

Then, a tunnel of swirling blue, and a feeling of being pulled.

OUTSIDE OF TIME AND SPACE

?

A million, million eyes opened, focused on one point in history. They had been waiting, patiently, for this moment to come.

"OBSERVE. LEARN. ADAPT."

The smell was the first thing that hit Kratos, when he came back to himself.

Decay.

Rot.

As his sight returned to him, the reason for the stench became readily apparent.

The land around him was dying - grass was brown and wilting, and trees were bare of leaves despite the season being early summer, bark sloughing off the trunks in chunks, the wood itself an unhealthy color. As far as Kratos could see, plants were dead or dying, filling the air with the stench of rotting vegetation.

Mash looked to be gagging, as the smell hit her. "What…..what happened here?"

"Was there a blight upon these lands at this time during the war?" he asked.

Mash was breathing carefully, "No…there was the usual sort of damage to the French countryside you'd see with so many people marching, and fighting across it, but….nothing like this." She shook her head. "Not in the history I read."

"Could it have something to do with that?" Medusa's head was tilted upwards, and she gestured, pointing at whatever had caught her interest. Kratos and Mash looked upwards, following the angle of her pointing finger…and found their breaths taken away.

A band of light, the purest white, and massive beyond words was cutting the sky in two.

It was like nothing Kratos had ever seen.

"What….what is that?" Mash's voice was very, very soft.

"I do not know." Not taking his eyes off the unearthly sight, Kratos pulled back his bracer and pressed the button on the communicator Romani had insisted he wear - Kratos had little hope the delicate looking thing would survive the excursion, despite Da Vinci's insistence she had built it to be durable, but he had been unable to fault their argument that he should carry one of the devices in the event he become separated from Mash. "Romani."

The device flickered to life, creating a small projection of the Doctor above his wrist. "Kratos! That was quick! We're reading all three of you in the green, so were there any issues with the Rayshift that we're not picking up?"

He shook his head. "No, we have arrived intact." He glanced as his two allies, both of whom nodded, confirming his words. "But the land we have arrived in does not match the records. There is a blight upon this land that Mash says did not occur. And then there is the sky." As did Medusa a few moments ago, he pointed at the ring of light high above them.

Romani's eyes widened. "What in the world? ACK!"

Romani's head was unceremoniously shoved out of the way, as Da Vinci's head crowded into the image, her eyes narrowed. "Nothing natural, and nothing good, that's for certain." She glanced at something off to her side. "And nothing we can get a solid reading on, if it's as high up as it looks. Is it doing anything?"

"No," said Mash, her own communicator now active. "It's just sort of floating there. Is this something Lev did?"

"He's as good a guess as any," came Romani's voice from outside the image. "And Da Vinci, you have your own screen that's just as good as this one."

"But this way is more fun." She spared Romani a grin. "But Roman's right, if you're looking for a scapegoat for whatever split the sky, Lev's probably the favorite of Occam. If he's got his hands on another Holy Grail - and diamonds to doughnuts he does - anything's possible." Her brow furrowed in thought. "If it's not actively dangerous, we'll just have to table figuring out whatever Magecraft it is for later. Now, you said something about a blight?"

Kratos slowly trailed his arm through the air, letting those observing get a good look at the dying vegetation surrounding them. Honestly, it wasn't all that dissimilar from letting Mimir get an observation of the surroundings that wasn't from the height of Kratos' waist.

Da Vinci sucked in a breath. "No, Mash is right, nothing like that happened during the Hundred Years War." She vanished from the image, allowing Romani's head to reassert itself back to center. From nearby, Kratos could hear the clicking sounds that their 'keyboards' made as they were used to manipulate their computing devices.

"Just like that, you two. Just keep slowly panning the communicators around." For about a minute, Mash and Kratos slowly waved their arms through the air, as Da Vinci and Romani analyzed whatever information was passing to them through the devices. "Roman, I'm sending you some data on a window. Check it for me, would you please?"

Romani's eyes widened. "This data…it can't be right. Look at the leylines - they're all twisted up - where they aren't….shriveled, for lack of a better word." His eyes flicked between the window of information Da Vinci had sent him, and his own data. "I'm not even sure if they'd be viable to connect to, either for summoning or for us to send you supplies. The mana in them doesn't look healthy at all."

Da Vinci's voice came from somewhere to Romani's right. "Twisted leylines with bad mana, and dying plant life. Who wants to bet they're connected?"

Kratos grunted. "We are on our own, then, until the Singularity has been resolved?"

Romani held up a finger, his eyes still darting all across his screen. "Hold a second, I'm tracing back along the paths of the leylines, trying to see if there's a viable one anywhere nearby. I mean, you could probably find one if you went far enough out of France, but that's going in the opposite direction of the problem…."

"And it costs us time we may not have," said Kratos.

"Yeah." Romani cupped his chin. "You've got about a week's worth of supplies - and you said you could go without food for a good long while if need be, so they can be stretched if it comes to that, and Medusa doesn't need to eat, but Mash does, and you'd eat through at least a portion of that in the time it'd take you to get far enough out of France to find a viable leyline. We'd hoped you'd be able to supplement the rations with anything you could hunt up, since you said you were a skilled hunter, but….."

"I would not trust the flesh of any animal that could survive in this. And the animals that could not would be starved to the point where they would have little meat." Kratos considered. "And even then, their flesh may be fouled and toxic."

A blue head of hair ducked into the frame. "Probably for the best. You can cook and eat just about anything, long as it's got muscle and you cook it enough. Even rotten meat might just give you the liquid shits after, but that….." He gave a low whistle. "Yeah. Do not like the looks of that at all, Kratos. As a fellow hunter, I'm going to second the man here."

"Duly noted, now back up and let me work!" Romani's hand shoved Cu's head aside, the Caster laughing all the way. "So, the good news, there looks to be a viable leyline still left in France. The bad news is that it's centered right underneath Orleans itself. That's going to be a hike of several days, at best, and that's assuming nothing delays you."

"Little chance of that," said Medusa, quietly.

"Rider is correct. We have enemies here, even if they are not aware of us yet." Kratos shook his head. "It would be foolish to assume our path would be unhindered."

"My thoughts exactly," agreed Romani. "I'm going to leave the decision up to you, Kratos, but my suggestion would be to try to find a nearby town, and hope there's still some living people in it. If there are, you might be able to get some idea of what's happened to make the land this way, and that could give you an idea of where to head next." He shrugged. "I know, a fair number of ifs there, but it's the best I've got to go on."

"No, your suggestion has merit." Kratos turned to Medusa. "Rider."

"Shall I find you a town, Kratos?"

"We shall head for Orleans, as it is our only way to establish a reliable connection with Chaldea, and then resupply. Range ahead of us, but do not be seen, if possible. We have an advantage in stealth, if our enemies have not been alerted to our presence yet. I would see us maintain that advantage as long as possible." He frowned, considering. "But I will trust your judgment should you discover a situation that would offer us greater benefits to us to intervene in."

She bowed her head. "As you wish." Then, with a flash, and a scattering of brown grass, she was off, darting ahead of them.

"Fou…."

A forlorn cry made Kratos turn to find Mash's white-furred pet curled in the girl's arms, looking displeased. If the smell was enough to turn Mash's stomach, Kratos could only imagine how much worse it was for the animal. "The creature….Fou. Why is it here?"

Mash flushed, cradling the animal close. "I think he stowed away in my coffin - I didn't intend to bring him along, Mr. Kratos, I promise! He does things like this, but if I had known how bad things would be here, I'd have been more careful." She dipped her head, her voice shrinking. "I'm sorry."

"Do not be sorry. Be better." The response was almost automatic at this point, after three years of training his son. What was not automatic was the realization that had come partways through their journey to the highest peak in the land - those words, on their own, weren't enough. "This journey will be dangerous for us, and we are warriors - some of us more trained than others, but we are capable of defending ourselves. Fou is small, and vulnerable." The creature gave a chirping little bark at that, almost as if he understood Kratos' words, and was offended by them - and for all the Spartan knew, he did, and was.

(Kratos wasn't entirely certain Fou wasn't somehow distantly related to a certain talkative squirrel who lived amongst the branches of the World Tree.)

"And beyond the dangers, you have heard that our food situation may become dire. You value Fou. I would not see you have to bury him." He looked down at the girl, choosing his words carefully. "During Ragnarök, we kept wolves to pull our sled, wolves my son rescued from raiders. One of them, Fenrir, sickened and died. My son…..he took it poorly."

So poorly that he had lost control of his emotions, and shifted into a bear, and attacked his father in an unthinking rage. And, like his son, the reach and breadth of Mash's powers were similarly unknown.

The girl stared up at him, through her hair. "I'll keep him safe, Mr. Kratos, I promise. Here Fou, I know you don't like it, but you're probably going to have to ride in my shield." Fou made a noise of displeasure. "Yes, I know, but it probably doesn't smell as bad in there as it does out here." Patiently, she cajoled the creature into her shield, then hefted the large weapon. "Ready to go, Mr. Kratos."

WIth a grunt, Kratos set off, Mash trailing slightly behind him. They had gone but a small distance, when she broke the silence.

"Mr. Kratos, you said Fenrir was one of your wolves? Do….you mean the Fenrir that bit off Týr's hand, and was foretold to kill Odin?"

Kratos considered for a moment, before answering. He did not see the harm in it. Stories were for the boat - or the road, in this case. "No. Fenrir was merely a wolf, at first…."

"So wait," went Romani's voice. "You're telling me your son put Fenrir's soul - which he didn't know that he had bound into his knife when he did so, into Garm, both stopping this unkillable, realm-tearing giant wolf, and bringing his pet back as well?"

"Yes," said Kratos. They had been walking for maybe an hour, their pace brisk, but slightly off from a full march. So far, Medusa had been quiet - like as not she had not seen anything of note just yet. "It was a clever solution, when I had no answers to a seemingly immortal foe." Kratos smiled, a small, private smile. "I was….am, proud of him."

Da Vinci shook her head (she had quickly figured out some way to project her face onto the communicators, freeing her up from having to jostle Romani aside - though she still got up to do just that occasionally, likely for her own amusement). "The differences in events between your Midgard and ours….I swear, Kratos, I am going to sit you down and have you dictate your version of Ragnarök someday, if only so I can somehow take this story back to the Throne and watch all the Norse Servants there try to make heads or tails of it."

Whatever response Kratos had been about to make was cut off by a voice cutting through his thoughts. 'Kratos - I've found something. You're going to want to see this.'

Kratos held up a hand. "Hold. Rider has found something." He concentrated, feeling the three strings that connected him to the Servants he had allied with, then grasped the one that belonged to Medusa. 'Where, and how far, and are there enemies?'

'No, nothing dangerous, at least, nothing obvious. I'm about 5 minutes north of you at your present pace. I can remain here, or return and lead you here.'

'No, remain and observe, and await our arrival.' Kratos loosed the string, and felt the connection fade. "Follow, but be on your guard. Rider states there is no danger that she can see, but that does not mean there is none."

"Yes sir!" chirped Mash, who fell in behind Kratos as they hastened their pace to where Medusa was waiting.

Despite the pervasive odor of the blighted landscape around them, Kratos noticed the smell just before they broke from the woods and came upon Medusa's location. Sickly sweet, it was a charnel smell, and one that had been familiar to Kratos for a long, long time. Battlefields, massacres, sacked towns and villages - they all reeked with it.

The smell of dead men.

Both of them saw it as they emerged from the dying woods, a crossroads - the path little more than a well-worn trail, but apparently traveled well enough to warrant a signpost.

Piled at the bottom of the signpost were soldiers, all of them long dead, their skin ashen white. Flies buzzed around the pile of corpses, the noise of their flight the only sound in the air.

For the second time in the day, Mash had to choke back her gorge, though to her credit, she kept the contents of her stomach from spilling out. Kratos barely batted an eye at the sight - he had seen so, so much worse in his time.

In a shower of golden light, Medusa appeared by their sides. "I believe this qualifies as something worth investigating - or seeing at least. A massacre like this in war isn't uncommon, but then, I noticed that." She pointed upwards to the signpost itself.

Kratos looked up. Arrows with script he could not read - nothing unusual there, as far as signposts went. But hanging from the center pole itself was a crude, wooden sign - clearly a more recent addition. And though Kratos could also not read the writing there, he could tell it was a different script than the writing on the signpost itself.

"The sign….what does it say?" This felt familiar, in lands that were alien to him, asking a companion to read words he could not.

"It's not a language that the Throne saw fit to grant me," said Medusa. "It isn't English or Greek…..nor is it the Midgarian script of your world, Kratos - which the Throne apparently threw in when we contracted."

Mash peered up at the sign. "I think…..that's Romanian, and old Romanian, too." Her eyes narrowed. "At least, that's what the translation spells Da Vinci made are telling me. It says 'Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here.'"

"The Divine Comedy? Points for choosing a fellow Italian's work, but I don't like the metaphor being drawn here." Da Vinci's brows were furrowed. "Oh, and for any displaced deities, The Divine Comedy is a work detailing a man's journey through the afterlife - Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. That little ditty is inscribed before the gates to Hell."

Kratos blinked. "I fail to see the comedic form in that." He grunted. "I do not believe Plato or Aristophanes would, either."

"Gods, your reactions are GOLDMINES, Kratos. I swear…."

A deep, guttural moan cut her off.

There was a moment of dead silence, then Romani's voice cut through. "Please, PLEASE. Tell me that was one of you three."

Kratos snatched his axe from his back. Mash snapped to alert, her shield raised. Medusa's stakes appeared in her hands. The pile of bodies was shifting, dead flesh beginning to jerk unsteadily, as a writhing mass of undead struggled to rise.

Romani sighed tiredly. "Of course it wasn't. Well, after the skeletons in Fuyuki, I guess I should have been expecting zombies before too long. Shutting up now and letting you lot focus on this." The communicator winked out, Romani's image vanishing.

Kratos grasped his axe with both hands, watching as the corpses lurched to their feet, and began shuffling towards them. "Rider. Harry their flanks, prevent them from overwhelming us. Mash and I shall meet them head on." They were many, but seemed slower than the Draugr or Hel-Walkers of Midgard. Still, better to be cautious with an unknown foe.

"Understood." Her legs tensed, then she sprang through the air, flying over the heads of the walking corpses to plant against one of the rotten trees. Her chains flickered into existence, and one of the undead was yanked from the group, hoisted into the air and slammed into a tree, the snapping of bones echoing throughout the clearing.

The greater whole of the horde was almost upon them. "Remain calm, and remember your training. And beware their numbers. Even the greatest warrior can be overcome by a mob."

"Yes sir. Mash Kyrielight, engaging!" With a yell, the girl hefted her massive shield, and struck one of the moaning corpses square across the jaw. The thing's head snapped to the side, and it was pushed back, but it moaned through a broken jaw, and continued coming.

Kratos hefted the Leviathan Axe in his hands, and stepped forward, planting his feet, and struck out at the leading corpse….

…..which was cloven in two with little more effort than he would have needed to cut through a twig.

Kratos blinked, momentarily taken aback. That…..seemed far too easy. Allowing himself a second, he checked, but no, the two halves of the dead man had ceased their movement - it seemed the creature was truly dead, permanently this time. With almost casual ease, he drew up his axe and slapped the next zombie across the head with the flat, easily reducing its head to shattered chunks of skull, the headless corpse dropping like a puppet with cut strings.

And he hadn't even put his full strength into the blow.

These enemies were no threat to him.

Mash was acquitting herself well. The first zombie that had attacked her was down, its body broken and shattered, and she was fending off the next one, though others were beginning to crowd her flanks. Medusa was flashing by above them, springing from tree to tree and either snatching the moaning dead from the horde and shredding them in the air, or simply slamming one of her stakes into their heads as she flew by, effectively thinning the herd.

Best he make sure that Mash was not overwhelmed.

Wading in, much less cautiously, Kratos dug his axe into the side of a zombie that had lurched around to possibly be in Mash's blind side. He pulled his blow just enough to not cleave the corpse fully in two, instead lifting the lifeless, yet animate body and hurling it with full force into the oncoming horde, blasting more than a few off their feet, and nearly exploding the hurled zombie from the sheer force of the collision. The next zombie was met with a simple overhead blow that almost split the thing in two, and suddenly, Mash's flank was far more secure than it had been.

He heard the telltale crackle of ice from his axe that signaled that it had built up its unique power. He raised the axe high, frost weeping from its blade, and snapped off a throw that took a zombie towards the back right in its forehead. It immediately froze solid, chill rushing from the axe into its dead flesh. "RIDER!" barked Kratos.

Medusa was flying through the air, dipping low, aiming to snipe another one of the horde. At Kratos' yell, she somehow changed directions mid-flight, her leg snapping out to kick the frozen corpse as she sped by.

It shattered into so many pieces.

The Leviathan Axe returned to Kratos' hand with a solid thump, and he strode forward, raising one boot to shatter the skull of a zombie that had not yet regained its feet from being knocked over with one of its rotten comrades. One that was almost ambulatory was relieved of its head in short order by a sweep of his axe, then his foot kicked the falling body aside, tangling the few remaining dead as they moaned in hunger.

Descending like a bolt from the heavens, Medusa drove a stake into the heads of two of the prone bodies, their motion ceasing. The last moaning creature was quickly silenced as Mash raised her shield above her head, then drove it into the zombie's skull, putting it to rest.

The entire fight had taken but moments.

"Enemies silent. Standing down." Mash's face was flushed in the way a new soldier's often was after combat - still unused to the rush of blood in one's ears that a life or death struggle brought.

"Acceptable, though you are too focused on the enemy in front of you. Guard your flanks better." For all these shambling corpses offered little danger to them, caution was always warranted in battle.

Medusa was slowly looking around the battlefield, her expression one of confusion. "Rider? What troubles you?"

She blinked, then turned to look at him. "Kratos. Do you notice?" She held up her weapons. "There's no blood."

Kratos' eyes widened as he looked about the battlefield, and the bodies strewn about it. The Servant was right. He had cleaved once-men in two, struck heads from bodies, and even shattered skulls outright, and none of these things had bled, not a drop. Nor were any of their weapons touched with even a streak of crimson.

"I can't smell any blood at all, not from any of these things. The only blood I can smell is faint….and dried…and it's coming from that warning, hung about the signpost."

Mash paled. "They wrote that in someone's blood?"

Kratos gave a low growl. "So it appears." He nudged one of the more intact bodies with his boot, and when it did not move again, he knelt to pick up something that had fallen from its hands. Most of the dead had attacked them with little more than their bare hands, but a handful had held weapons, for all the good it had done them to be armed. Some others had staggered forward holding more mundane items, helmets, pouches, and the like - likely whatever they had been holding when they had died.

Like this one, who had been holding a small bit of papers, bound together.

Two heads of purple hair peered at the object. "Do you think those might be orders?" asked Mash.

"Or a journal. Soldiers in my time often kept one." That so many Spartans could read and write was proof that Sparta was the most enlightened of the Greek city-states. "I kept one, during my travels with my son, both before and during Ragnarök."

He handed it to Mash. "Can you read it? This may shed light on the state of these lands."

She flipped through the pages, and nodded. "Yes. It's in French, which isn't surprising because…well, France. It looks like you were right about soldiers keeping journals."

"Skip to the end," said Medusa, who was peering over Mash's shoulder. "Whatever happened had to be recent, otherwise the plants would be much more dead and rotten than they are." Her face twisted in a grimace. "Not that you could tell from the stench."

Mash's tongue peeked out from between her lips as she flipped through the journal. "Let's see…'30, May, the year of our Lord 1431 - It is over. Jeanne was burnt as a witch today. All hope for France is lost.'"

Her finger traced under the words as she read. "The next entry is about five days later. 'Ruin has come to our lands. Jeanne did not stay dead, she did not go to Heaven. Three days after she burnt, she returned, but as one touched by God no longer. Men say her hair is bleached white, her armor blackened by the fire. And she did not come back alone. She brought with her armies of wyrms, and monsters in human flesh that answer her beck and call. The Dauphin, who she raised to the throne. Bishop Pierre Cauchon, who condemned her to the stake. And thousands of men, women, and children, English and French alike. All have been slain at her hands, or at the hands of the beasts of hell she commands. She is the Maid of Orleans no longer, but a witch, a dragon witch.'"

She flipped a page. "This one's from a couple of days ago. 'The land dies. Is this a curse from God on the land for what we did to Jeanne? Or is this her curse, as a witch, for failing to save her from the stake? We cannot stay at the fort any longer. Food dwindles. Our water is bad. Our leaders wait for what? A salvation that is not coming to this doomed land. I have spoken with those I trust, and we will attempt to flee, to leave France. It is a hard thing, to choose to desert, but our families, if they live. We must save them, taking them from this dying land.'"

Mash looked up from the pages. "There's nothing after that."

"Well, this Dragon Witch certainly sounds like the distortion in history we were looking for," chimed in Romani.

Kratos made a noise of assent. "Yes. From what I have been told, the Abrahamic God was as stingy with resurrections as the gods I have known - reserving it for his son, and those his son found worthy, and not his chosen. These 'Saints'."

Heracles had wrestled Death himself to return a friend's wife to the lands of the living. Orpheus had descended to the Underworld and reduced Hades and Persephone to tears to bring his love back to him, only to lose her at the last moment, by looking back when he had been commanded not to. And Kratos himself had fought his way out of Tartarus more than once. To hear that a god, or, more correctly, that god's son had just…..brought people back to life with a touch had been almost incomprehensible to Kratos, given how the gods of his land had made such a blessing be earned through a trial that only the most worthy could manage.

"So, I'm guessing that means we're still headed straight to Orleans, then?" asked Romani.

Kratos thought for a moment. "This fort the soldier spoke of. Do we know where it might be?"

"Best guess would probably be…..Vaucouleurs, though to call that a fort would be very, very generous." Da Vinci projected a map onto the screen. "If you're where we think you are, and the Singularity isn't screwing with our instruments, you should be only an hour or two away from it. You wouldn't have to detour too much from your path to give it a looksee, if you're still planning on a straight march to Orleans."

"I am considering it. There is no guarantee that the words written here are true. Information from a living source is always better, when it can be obtained, and that source can be trusted." He began walking, Mash and Medusa falling in behind him. "And if it would not take us too far from our chosen path, then it may be worth the lost time, if we stand to gain in knowledge of our foes."

"Then shall I?"

Kratos nodded at Medusa. "Go."

Da Vinci's estimation of their position was correct, it was only an hour before Medusa reported seeing what appeared to be a man-made structure on the horizon. As he drew up on it, he could see why Da Vinci had been hesitant to call it a fort.

It was little more than a town, or a village. True, there was what appeared to be a strong wall encircling the commune, albeit one that appeared to have weathered some damage, but the most impressive structure within those walls was not a fort, but a stone building whose peak was topped by a cross - likely this was a temple to the Abrahamic God.

Kratos could see movement atop the walls, though it was too far for him to make out details.

"Those are men - not the walking dead we just dealt with," said Medusa, having noticed both Kratos and Mash squinting at the walls. "While I was waiting on you two to catch up, I went into Spirit Form and took a closer look - I didn't feel any Servants within the walls, so there shouldn't have been anyone who could see me while I was in Spirit Form."

Kratos grunted, indicating she should continue.

"Little else to see. Going by their armor, they seem to be of a sort with the pile of corpses we found earlier." She frowned. "Truthfully, they seem to be in only slightly better shape than the zombies. They seem to be dead on their feet - listless and scared. And probably hungry, as well, if what that journal said was true." She glanced at Kratos. "Do we still approach?"

"Yes. Remain hidden. Should they prove hostile, or allied with our enemies, we will have a chance to catch them off balance."

Medusa nodded, then vanished in a shower of golden light. A moment later, Kratos and Mash left the cover of the trees, heading towards the gates of the wall that surrounded the town.

'Scared' seemed to be more prevalent in the men patrolling the walls than 'listless', their approach was quickly noticed, kicking up a flurry of activity along the walls. Within moments, they could hear the temple bell ringing, and the number of soldiers along the walls doubled. In particular, the activity centered around the gatehouse, and the black powder devices Da Vinci had called 'cannons' - every one that could be brought to bear was being leveled at them.

Still, they were allowed much closer to the gate than Kratos would have permitted, were he in charge of the defenses, before they were challenged. "Halt where you stand! Who…..who goes there?" The voice that called down to them was trying to project a measure of authority, but it was undermined by the quaver in the man's voice.

"Travelers, new to these lands," bellowed Kratos.

"L…lies!" came a different voice. "You're more of the Dragon Witch's monsters! Just look at how they're dressed! Who carries a shield that big, or wears skins like some savage, but one of her demons! They're here to kill us all!"

'Confirmation of this Dragon Witch talk, at least.' came Medusa's voice in his head. 'I'm up on the walls. They're nervous, but not reaching for their weapons just yet. Well, except for the one who just called into question your manner of dress.'

"Rene….." it was the first voice now, the one that had challenged them as they drew near the walls. "Use that head of yours for something other than a place to set your helmet. Every man on these walls has seen her demons tear through our comrades. At what point did ANY of them bother to heed any of us when we begged them to stop? If those two really WERE her demons, would they really have listened when I ordered them to halt, or would they already be on the ramparts, tearing us apart?"

"...it could be a trick. Get us to let our guards down before they slaughter us. Feast on our despair when they betray us. They say demons like the taste of a soul in despair better than any other soul….." The voice was speaking faster and faster. "Turn the cannons on them, now, before it's too late!"

The first voice gave a long-suffering sigh. "Rene, I think you've been manning the walls long enough for today. Marceau, can you take Rene and see that he gets some food and some rest."

As Rene was escorted off, still loudly exhorting them to blast Kratos and Mash into oblivion, the first voice resumed speaking with them. "Travelers, you say? What in God's name possessed you to wander this far into France? Why didn't you turn back the second you saw what was happening to the trees?"

It was Mash who answered him. "We're from an organization called Chaldea. We heard that something had happened to France, and we came to help."

"Help?" Harsh, bitter laughter echoed down on them the ramparts - and not just the man they were speaking with, but it sounded like the whole contingent guarding the walls was joining in. "Little girl, there's no helping France. This land is doomed. All we can do is choose where our bodies will rot."

Kratos frowned. "You would give up, and just wait for Death to take you, while you still draw breath?"

"Yes, yes we would. Because it's what we all deserve." A head peeked out from the walls, peering down on them. Kratos took him for an officer of some kind, for his helmet was moderately more ornate than those that had been worn by the dead who had once been his comrades. "We let those English bastards burn the Maid. Didn't even try to rescue her, and by doing that, we betrayed God. And so he punishes us, by bringing Jeanne back as a witch, by blighting the land, to show the nations of the world how France has sinned, and will be destroyed for it."

The temple bell began ringing again, more frantically this time.

The man looked to the skies, a look of almost….acceptance coming over his face. "And there it is. Our judgment comes on leathery wings."

Kratos and Mash spun, craning their necks to see what had caught the man's eye. At first, they both thought it was a stormcloud, black, and massive - but it was moving, far too quickly, and against the wind.

It was no cloud, but a mass of winged, scaly bodies, approaching them at great speed.

"Are those…..wyverns?" asked Mash.

The communicator on her wrist chimed to life, Romani's pale face appearing. "Scanning….and confirmed." He swallowed. "Guys…..that's A LOT of wyverns. Twenty…..no, twenty-five, at least. Maybe more, if there's stragglers from the main group."

Kratos gave a low growl. "I have fought Wyverns before, though not in these numbers." The wyverns the Aesir and Einherjar used as mounts were dangerous beasts, not his match on their own, but with so many…. "And these appear more kin to dragons than the ones I am familiar with."

"They are! They're lesser dragons - not as big, and not as smart - they're little more than animals, for all they're Phantasmals. But to see so many….." He glanced at the Spartan. "Kratos, please tell me you have a plan."

Kratos thought quickly - they had but moments before the swarm would be upon them. "Mash, can you leap to the walls?"

"I….I think so? I've never jumped that high, but…..I think I can…"

Not the most confident of answers, but he would have to hope her belief was not misplaced. "Go. Aid the soldiers in holding off the beasts. Any creature that is attacking them is one that is not attacking us. Rider."

Medusa materialized next to him. "Yes?"

"If given the height, can you bring some of them down to the earth?" She nodded, and at that, he snapped his shield open. "Then on my mark. I shall draw as much of their attention as I can, while you tear them from the sky."

Mash was already running to the walls, her legs rapidly chewing up the distance between. Kratos tensed, the beasts were almost upon them.

"NOW!" he yelled, and Medusa sprang into the air, planting both feet onto his shield. With a grunt of effort, he threw her forward, the woman's body streaking through the sky like a bow shot from an arrow. A bellow of pain told him that she had at least drawn blood, and faintly, he heard the clatter of her chains as she entered combat.

Booming explosions began to sound from the walls as the soldiers manning it opened up with their cannons.

With a deep breath, Kratos reached behind him, and felt the metal of the Blades of Chaos warm at his touch, as the primordial fires within stirred to life.

Then the swarm descended.

The first wyvern that came at him saw only a man, prey - ground bound and slow, and it shrieked as it raised its claws in preparation for a dive that would leave the meat bleeding on the ground in ragged chunks. Then suddenly, pain, pain in its wings, and it was being pulled from the sky by strength it could not fight, and then it was crashing to the ground, bones shattering at the impact.

Dazed, bleeding, broken, it looked up in time to see that man that it had thought easy prey raise a blade, and strike its head from its neck.

Kratos yanked the Blades back into his hands as a number of the beasts detached from the greater swarm and headed straight for him. He lashed the Blades from his hands, sweeping before him, but the beasts were quick, and the Blades only gashed them. Continuing his spin, he pulled the Blades above him, and then snapped them down, cleaving into a wyvern that had thought to take him in the back. The beast howled in pain as it tumbled from the sky, one of its wings shredded and useless.

He tugged the Blades back to him, then was forced to fall to the ground, as two wyverns soared through the space where his body had been, their claws shrieking as they sliced through the air - then rolled to the side, as a third wyvern fell from the sky, attempting to pin him to the ground.

Kratos flicked the Blades out as he dodged, gouging a shallow cut into the wyvern's leg, unable to get much power into the throw as he rolled, and pushed himself to his feet. Quick as lightning, he closed the distance before the beast was able to regain the skies, shoulder lowered as he crashed into it.

He was prevented from finishing the downed wyvern off as two more descended upon him, this time from opposite directions. He sent the Blades at the closer, hoping to pull it from the sky as he had the first, but the creature dove as soon as he moved, and Kratos rolled forward, the claws of the second narrowly missing his flesh.

They were hunting as would wolves, harrying at him, drawing his attacks. These things were a bit smarter than the mere beasts Romani had described them as.

In the sky, Medusa drove her stakes into the thin membranes of a scaled monster, tore them upwards, then planted her feet and leapt into the air before the beast began tumbling to the earth. Her leap took her straight at another wyvern, who raised its claws and shrieked a challenge. She collided with it head-on, stabbing her stakes into the raised claws, keeping them from her body. Without losing an ounce of momentum, she used the stakes planted into the wyvern's claws to flip forward, her legs encircling its neck. With a spin, and a twist, she snapped its neck, then sprang away again, before it realized it was dead.

On the walls, Mash desperately pushed back against a pair of claws, as a snapping maw of teeth tried to snake around her shield. Yelling in exertion, she heaved, her Servant's strength winning out against the wyvern's weight, and she took a step forward, then another, then was running, smashing the creature's body against one of the watchtowers before it could escape. It crumpled to the ground as she pulled back, and before she could think to finish it off, soldiers were rushing in, plunging spears and pikes into its body. It roared weakly, then went still.

A cheer went up around her, as the soldiers celebrated, but Mash's eyes were already searching for the next place she needed to be. ('Until a battle is over, you must remain focused. Do not celebrate at minor victories - raise your voice only when the battle is won.') Kratos' words from one of her training sessions echoed in her head, and she took off - she could see where a wyvern had downed a soldier, the man desperately attempting to avoid the creature's jagged teeth.

Kratos trailed the Blades along the ground, then flicked his wrists, cracking a wave into the chains, the Blades leaping upwards, slashing into a wyvern's belly. This beast, as had many others, had reacted in time to avoid a mortal wound, but the Blades ignited and set the wyvern on fire as Kratos jerked the Blades free of its gut. The beast howled in pain, but Kratos paid it no mind, he sent each Blade out separately, sweeping them though the air at the two winged monsters that were trying to take him in the sides.

One was too close for the Blades to catch, but was tangled in the chains, the attached Blade whirling around its body, wrapping around its body, and improbably - if one was unaware of the bloodthirst imbued into the Blades of Chaos - allowing the daggerlike point to pierce into the wyvern's neck. It fell from the sky.

The other was at the perfect range to meet a Blade head-on, but with a sudden burst of speed, it gained height, the Blade streaking underneath its body. Kratos dodged, but was a hair too slow, as vicious talons carved lines into his right shoulder. Growling, Kratos pulled with his left arm, and used the body of the dead wyvern to knock the other from the sky. Kratos grasped the chains, and pulled, yanking himself forward, his body leaving the space just as another wyvern attempted to bite him, its jaws snapping shut on air, instead of flesh.

Kratos collided with the two tangled wyverns, one dead, one living, though that one quickly joined its fellow in death as Kratos rammed the Blade in his right hand into its skull. Seizing the other Blade, he ripped it free, the chains around the dead wyvern's body loosening. With only seconds before the mass of bodies would hit the ground, he tossed the Blades skyward, sinking them into the body of a wyvern above him.

Legs tensing, he leapt, swinging through the air, using the wyvern's body as an anchor point, until he crashed into yet another beast. With a savage jerk, he pulled the wyvern he had been using as an anchor for his Blades from the sky, and then, as the Blades returned to his hands, decapitated the wyvern he was tangled with, then leapt from its dying body.

He crashed to the ground, rolling to absorb the shock from the fall. He looked to the sky, searching for where the next attack would come from. It would not be from the sky.

A pained hiss, and a wash of fire rolled over him. One of the wyverns he had injured, but not finished had managed to crawl close enough to belch fire on the Spartan.

Roaring, Kratos charged the wyvern, his shield snapping open and blocking the stream of flames, the wave of fire parting before him. His shield, and charging body, plowed into the scaled monster, but stubbornly, it stayed up. It gulped, and Kratos could tell it was preparing to engulf him in flames again.

Like a striking snake, Kratos' hands flew out, seizing the wyvern's jaws as its mouth began to open. Hissing, the beast wrenched its head, fighting him. A jet of flame shot out from its throat, licking across Kratos' flesh. With a snarl of effort, Kratos clenched his fists, feeling the bones of the wyvern's jaw shattering under his hands. The beast gave a shriek of pain, then a gurgling whine as Kratos forced the jaws open beyond what they were meant to by nature.

There was a loud snap, and the fight went out of the wyvern.

'Kratos, Roman says…wait, you're on FIRE!' Mash's panicked voice sounded in his head.

'It will pass! Speak!'

'Sir! Roman says they've picked up another group of wyverns heading towards us! A bigger one!'

Another group? They had whittled the current flock down, but reinforcements now - and a swarm larger than the group they had been fighting could threaten to overwhelm them with sheer numbers. Grimly, he raised the Blades as another handful of the beasts descended from the sky.

Medusa jammed a stake into a wyvern's throat, then twisted it, hearing the beast gurgle as its neck filled with blood. She flicked her head around, seeking her next target, then frowned. The creatures were wising up - they had pulled away, and were either flocking to the walls, or preparing to swarm Kratos. She had no victims in range to spring to.

She braced herself, as the wyvern she was clinging to plummeted to earth.

On the walls, Mash heaved a breath into her lungs. She had run herself ragged, dashing from skirmish to skirmish as she had tried to fend off as many wyverns as she could, but she couldn't be everywhere. Men had died as the creatures had picked them from the walls, or had been ripped into by diving beasts. She heaved a breath, and hoisted her shield back up - then froze, as she saw the man who had parlayed with them walk out of the gatehouse, slowly, arms spread.

He had a look of near-tranquility on his face as he crossed the walls. He didn't struggle, didn't scream as a scaled monstrosity dove from the sky and seized him in its claws and bore him aloft, where a swarm descended and tore him to shreds.

Kratos sent the Blades sweeping through the sky, but the creatures were keeping their distance. Somehow, they knew more of their kind was coming, and were content to wait until their numbers were replenished. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a wyvern rocketing to the ground. As it neared the earth, a blob of purple and black detached from it.

'Kratos! Catch me!'

Running as fast as he could, feet nearly leaving craters in the ground, Kratos raced to where Medusa's body would impact the ground.

He made it in time. Medusa crashed into him, and he awkwardly caught her, his body cushioning her fall. They tumbled together as the momentum of Medusa's flying form knocked Kratos from his feet. After a moment, their bodies skidded to a halt.

Medusa sprang to her feet as Kratos picked himself up off the ground. She glanced at him, then took a longer look at him. "You appear to be singed, Kratos."

"Minor discomfort," he huffed. "Are you injured?"

"Nicks and scratches. I was moving too fast for them to do more than that." She grimaced. "Until they pulled back, and stopped giving me targets to stay in the air."

"Romani has spotted another group, larger than this one, moving in this direction. They hold back, awaiting reinforcements." He growled. "I will be speaking to Romani about these creatures being little more than beasts."

"I think I can see them." She swept her hidden eyes across the sky. "We've probably killed a little more than half of the first group - another, larger group….." Her gaze fell on Kratos. "What are your orders?"

"Fall back to the walls. With them at our backs, we can limit the directions they can attack, and we will gain options for mobility." He began moving, keeping one eye on the massed wyverns, hesitant to fully turn his back on the bloodthirsty creatures. "Should any of the soldiers live, we will also be within the curtain of their fire - it will offer us limited protection, but against these numbers, we will grasp what advantages we can."

Quickly, they retreated to the walls, then turned to face the oncoming wave.

The sky seemed filled with scales and leather.

'So many….' Mash's voice quavered.

A cannon roared, but the shot was premature, and it crashed to the dirt long before reaching the swarm.

"Here they come…." muttered Medusa. Kratos' hands tightened around the Blades of Chaos, fire flickering over the metal. He braced himself.

'Servant signature detected!'

Amidst the cloud of monsters blackening the sky, it was as if the sun, hidden behind the clouds, suddenly burst forth.

Fearlessly, she strode up to the fort, flag held high. Hair like spun gold caught the sunlight, almost glowing as the rays touched it.

"Load grapeshot!"

She didn't yell, but somehow, her voice easily sounded across the battlefield.

The few survivors still manning the walls, already holding on by a thread, were not reassured by this woman's sudden appearance. "It's the Witch! She's here to watch us die!"

If the woman - and the soldiers seemed to be convinced she was the Dragon Witch who was ravaging this land - heard their cries, she gave no sign. "Load. Grapeshot!" she cried, a note of undeniable authority entering her voice. "Cannonballs are too slow! As many as they are, grapeshot can swat them from the skies!" She raised her flag high, the banner fluttering wildly in the wind being kicked up by the wyvern's wings. "This land will NOT die so long as I have breath left in my body to fight for it! Stand with me. Fight for this land, for your families, for your lives! The Lord has NOT abandoned France!"

She drove the flag into the ground, and bowed her head. "Luminosité Eternelle!"

Light burst forth from the flag, washing over the battlefield. The monsters in the sky shrieked as the light touched them, the purity of it blinding them.

Kratos had been wary of this new arrival, his body whipcord tense as the light washed over them. But when the light dimmed, he felt no ill effects on his body. After a moment, he felt his flesh begin to knit - the gashes on his shoulder mending, and his scorched flesh losing its blackened and charred tone.

Medusa also appeared to be on the mend, her numerous nicks and cuts having vanished. "She is an ally, then?"

"So it appears." Kratos scowled. "Be wary. Her appearance differs from the account we recovered, but the soldiers believe her to be the Dragon Witch." He gave a low growl. "It is a problem for after these creatures are scattered."

Above them, a cannon boomed - this time, instead of a large, singular ball, a cloud of heated shrapnel tore through the air, and ripped into the still blinded wyverns, sending several of them crashing to the dirt. As the echoes of the cannon's cry died out, a voice could be heard from the walls.

"Pick up your weapons and fight! Fight for your lives!" Mash's voice boomed down from the walls. "We can win this! Man the cannons, I'll keep the wyverns off you!"

The corners of Medusa's mouth turned up in a smirk. "The little mouse is acting like a lion. Is this your doing, I wonder?"

Kratos did not dignify that with a response. "Climb the walls and assist in the defense of the cannons."

"As you wish." Her laughter trailed after her as she flew up the walls.

The wyverns had nearly recovered from the blinding light. Before they could fully rally, Kratos formed Draupnir in his hands and sent a volley of spectral spears into the sky. The range was such that some fell short, and some of his targets had recovered enough to dart out of the way, but some hit their mark, further reducing the number of their enemies.

Across the battlefield, their would-be ally was stalking across the grounds, approaching those wyverns who had fallen from the sky, but still lived. As she reached each one, she would bow her head briefly, then, heedless of their snapping jaws, quickly and mercifully end their suffering with a single stab of her flag.

More cannons were adding their voices to the first, and while the wyverns were smart enough to spread out, they were still taking a toll.

The first wyvern to reach Kratos was a maddened, feral thing, bleeding from a handful of wounds, easily dispatched with a sweep of the Blades. The next fell just as easily, as Kratos sent the Blades out to meet it in mid-dive, driving them into its body and ripping it from the sky, whipping its body into the walls.

The tide was turning.

It was in trickles at first, as fear overcame their bloodlust, wyverns began turning tail and fleeing, those still whole enough to fly away. Before long, it was a rout, and the only wyverns left on the battlefield were those too crippled to flee - and they did not last long past the battle's end.

In the middle of the battlefield, the corpses of wyverns surrounding them, Kratos got his first good look at the Servant who had appeared suddenly to grant them her aid.

She wore plated armor of silver, with blue accents. A cape of the same blue, decorated with the same silver crosses that had capped the peak of the temple in the town wrapped around her shoulders, hanging down to her legs. A thin sword was sheathed at her side, and an odd silver headpiece, more akin to a tiara or a crown than any sort of helmet rested on her head. Her flag was held loosely in her hands, as she calmly beheld Kratos.

To Kratos' eyes, she glowed with a similar light as those chosen by the gods of Greece - such as the Oracle of Athens, though the light seemed almost dimmer, more subdued when compared to those he had known in his first lifetime.

She performed a formal, courtly bow. "Hello, mysterious god. I believe we should talk."

AUTHORS NOTES: And we're off.

Periodic reminder that Kratos is a theater nerd - or at least enough of one to quibble with Mimir about the proper form of theater when Mimir complains about the 'Tragedy of the Theben King' consisting entirely of people receiving bad news and reacting to such. Kratos defends that as more clear, and the proper form of theater as determined by the Greeks.

Orleans starter-level zombies vs the God of War? Yeah, they were going to get shredded. Midgard has much higher quality dead to fight. And while the Nasuverse wyverns don't match up to the Migard ones mano a mano (since a Migardian Wyvern is a boss fight, or a powerful regular enemy at least, while FGO wyverns are mooks you smack around on the way to the last wave), they make up for their lack of quality with QUANTITY, which, as Josef Stalin said, is a quality all its own. And they're rather tougher than the walking dead. But when I said Kratos would be challenged, it wasn't going to be by basic-ass zombies.

Largely something of a setup chapter for Orleans, getting boots on the ground and establishing the framework of the Singularity - and in some ways still very much chained to the dread Stations of the Canon, at least for the beginning. The fireworks begin next chapter.

I am something of a lapsed Christian, so I don't recall God doing much of the resurrecting, mostly that was Jesus. Feel free to correct me.

Madre de dios, it's frakkin' COLD in my neck of the woods. Had an absolutely shit day yesterday, so decided to distract myself with writing. That the Buffalo/Pittsburgh game was postponed due to Bills Stadium looking like it's going through Fimbulwinter didn't hurt, as well. So banged this out a day earlier than I planned. Original plans were to have this chapter out on Friday, but didn't come to pass.

Seriously, anyone in the cold wave that's hitting the States, stay warm.