The Beast Of Both Worlds: A Drunk Mythology 18 Typhon Warning

Gigantic was a norm for every branch of mythology; size often denoted power, from backdrop cities and commissioned labyrinths to the very mountains that get thrown a lot during altercations. But even among G.o.ds and t.i.tans, Typhon was a standing ovation. You don't get t.i.tles like "Father of All Monsters" and "Bane of the G.o.ds" by being coy—you also don't become G.o.d of darkness and destruction as far as Egypt.

As the party cut around the earth that bound their quarry, Team Underworld noted how emaciated and underwhelming the beast got over the millennia, quipping that even if it was to wake, they would hardly break sweat restraining it. Some even started getting more physical with their taunts, which caught on until the labor had turned into some misfit excursion. At least the morale got its much needed payout, because this branded display of arrogance would cost them dearly.

Even with just an arm free, the monster was able to grab one of the dallying giants, outwrestling and breaking its neck with but a twitch of its fingers. It then ate the dead creature raw, immediately regaining some of its ma.s.s. The rest of the deposit that bound it crumbled next, as its serpentine legs came hissing through with the force of a hurricane.

When the snake heads started spewing fire, it felled wave after wave of the alliance's creatures. There became no discrimination between nymphs and centaurs, which all burned away like papyrus. The underworld now brimmed with fire and torment that rivaled even the Tartarus facilities.

Before the flames could do irreparable damage, Poseidon raised his trident, summoning a watery bulwark loaned from the nearby Styx. Its G.o.ddess attended the battle with such horror, it showed through her transparent form. "I knew this was a terrible idea," she wailed, feeling the fires ravage her extension. "Our war might end prematurely after all."

"Just hold the line, Styx—we'll handle the rest," Poseidon snapped at her.

"Easier said than done, but I'll do you one better." The G.o.ddess clasped her hands, sending the tail of her river rus.h.i.+ng through Typhon. The fires momentarily died as the serpents started to drown, but just as it did Styx's wall, the intense heat they produced was starting to outdo even the immortal water.

Then Typhon began to raise his other arm, revealing a scythe that towered past him.

"Do not let him swing that blade!" Hades commanded out of character, sending creatures and divinities on their offensive. Over a thousand pair of arms worked to pin down the arm, but even then Typhon was able to brandish it weakly.

The tip of the weapon barely made contact, and yet the creatures that touched it disintegrated, along with sizeable portion of the district. The Underworld shook in violent protestation. Again the ceiling threatened to collapse, even more so than when Zeus was laying waste. Seeing such abject effects, the trio of Aecus, Minos, and Rhadamanthus joined in on the contest, distracting Typhon enough for the rest to land their hits.

With the presented opening, Poseidon hurled his trident towards the monster's other arm, pinning it to the ground. Hades himself summoned countless dark blades to secure it. Ares followed suit, battering the face with his s.h.i.+eld, and then Demeter who locked it in a chokehold.

Take note that this was a Typhon who skipped all his meals over the years; a Typhon who was probably still groggy from missing his eight o'clock appointment. The way he shook these powers loose was no easy deed but he seemed furious enough to pull it off. No matter how many pinp.r.i.c.k blades Hades summoned and how many punches Ares threw, the monster just wouldn't go down for the count.

So Thanatos did what he did best, swinging his scythe all mightily at the more dangerous arm of the beast. And for the first time in his reaping career, he found the one thing he couldn't cut fully. His blade got blocked midway through, as though the bone was made out of something more obdurate. He tried over and over to the same effect, frustrating him further. On his last try, he would have the brotherly support he neither expected nor asked to come.

When the scythe got completely stuck in the marrow, Ginrius leapt after it, his hammer raised over his head with both hands. It was a test run for the Atlas belt's efficiency, and as Hades mentioned before, their scheduled match with Zeus. Thinking just this, he gave the blow all he's got—and all there ever will be. He struck so hard, the haft of his hammer snapped in half, and death scythe finally cut through the limb, severing it.
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The G.o.dsmith then discarded his impaired weapon to pick up Cronus'. He yelled for Ares and Demeter to get out of the way, and then pivoted to hack through Typhon's neck. He was surprised at how easy it was this time, attesting to the power of the weapon he now wielded. Typhon fell dead instantly, and since it was the Underworld, its soul parted from his body to negotiate with the landlord.

Instead of banis.h.i.+ng the essence to Tartarus, Hades stored it in a jar, which he then presented to its slayer. "Time to put your skills to work again," he told Ginrius with a glance to his father's scythe.

Ginrius knew what he meant, though he questioned the idea a tad bit. The Cronus scythe proved to be an undeniable force, to which even death's arm paled in comparison. Was it really a good idea to augment it with another monstrous power? He knew he could do it, but the question leaned more towards its necessity. This was enough caliber to cleave the world in half, and he knew there would be plenty of that action in the battles to come.

"Do not hesitate, young Ginrius," supplied Poseidon as he rejoined the crew. "Do not forget who we're dealing with. Zeus in his current peak would make Typhon cry out for Gaea—you're a fool if you think he could be beaten with anything less."

"But this power could end the world if left unchecked…" Ginrius' argument trailed off with his resolve. He knew the elder G.o.ds were right and it terrified him.

Poseidon soon left with his brother, aiming to a.s.sess the damage their ranks suffered. But not without sharing more of his candid wisdom, "You have doomed the world when you chose the woman—it's too late to worry about it now."

This cemented his desire to figure out a workaround. It was his job to create items of miracle; maybe he'd be able to form a suit of armor around the world or something, protect it from harm, if not mitigate the promised collateral damage. But before he reached that point, he knew the ordered steel would be a necessary evil.