Erebus sprinted, moving up and up. Long staircases that seemed to go on for infinite distances stood before him, thankfully Erebus was pretty adamant on this, or else he’d have goofed the whole charade and never left the Guild Hall. The Zombie was selected to visit Hephaestus, an otherworldly Blacksmith capable of wondrous creation. Due to the timing, Erebus was given a few months ahead of his guild-mates to claim this place, which would actually keep him moving across what looked like a path that never ended. This required strain to his body, in order to propel as if he was sprinting endlessly. For that reason Erebus had taken breaks to stitch his skin back together after muscles had ripped and deteriorated. The journey wasn’t simple, along the way Erebus was starting to look more and more Zombie.

In truth, he looked mostly human, Erebus just had a habit of looking dead and pale to the bone— basically all the time. Despite this, here he was, moving at his quickest mark muttering cuss-words every few hours. Patience was the virtue here, it could and would cost him consequences to lose his temper, issues presumably difficult to his task, as you’d guess he’d rather ignore any flawed opportunities. 1,000 Years on this journey would literally drive him insane though. So he’d concocted a plan which would help him meet the Smith God quickly!

Waging Gambles towards the floor protectors, Erebus could shave distances down by defeating foes. Which he gladly took to doing nearly instantly on every visual encounter spotted. By picking the residents of this Staircase off, in line towards the God above, who still hadn’t personally stood to disagree with the Syndicate’s peace treaty and alliance. Of course, Erebus made sure to show mercy on the underlings to this prestigious deity, something new to be seen in his behavior. If it were up to him, they’d all be in the Elysian Fields. Yet even still, he couldn’t afford to piss this guy off. Conquest here meant a promised safe haven. Something the rest of the world might not get to swim in, what with the future heading towards the unknown.

So Erebus, for the first time in his life, really was fighting and sparing lives to get his mission taken care of. To not only make his position stand out here and forever more, but to also impress the locals here for the coming days. Respect was meant for earning. So playing the game, well, that was simply where the Strategist chose to stand out.

This Staircase was ironically named the Thousand Year Staircase, If you tallied the fact that Erebus didn’t sleep into all of that, the time extended would have dwarfed his progression immensely. So it ‘could have been a thousand years’ to a mind that would be lost journeying towards the stars at the top of this mountain. Thankfully, being neither dead or alive, Erebus did not exist within the same 24 hours that night and day shared. He existed outside the laws of human science. The Behemoth Blade-wielding lunatic was purely a spiritual entity. So he would not rest, and so this game was only around six months past due. He assumed it would be somewhere around a year to get home, if he could manage to get there this month.

The psychological damage this time/space predicament provided was what was really sickening. For wvery day Erebus pressed further, he was that much farther from home. But in his heart, yes... Sven Erebus has one. He understands. You see, being a Zombie, Erebus can go longer distances than a regular human, as well as years. His genetic makeup, corrupted by the Abyss, made him quite perfect to move relentlessly thus far.

This mission entailed a long journey but the real question was whether he could convince the inhabitants on his own. After all, Erebus had a reputation, though he wondered if such an infamy would reach the Heaven’s. If it did, that could be an issue. Erebus was decked in what one would consider, casual wear. A black turtle neck, baggy pants, non-slip shoes, and a white overcoat with a questionable resemblance to a hospital smock. Then fastened to his back, The Executioner Sword, an item from his past, defining the deal he sealed with Yumi Hashigami and the Demonic Lord Malum; Erebus later looted it off the corpse of a minor Demon Lord after his bounty... beyond this and some blood stains, Erebus was quite normal in appearance.

His face carried a tired, dying expression, while glasses glinted under the light reflecting from underneath the clouds below. Winding towards the stars.

”Almost? .. Fuck it.. Almost.” The Zombie had to reassure himself that this mission was not as hard as he’d heard from the legends, or if it were. How was he ever going to see a chance of success? No, to get where he was going he’d definitely see issues. Just as he’d assumed, winged creatures could be seen up the echelon, more guards of the Workshop. Furies... or Harpies. Whichever you’d prefer to call the infernal monkey whores. He closed his eyes, holding open his hands. Two swords, and six to his sides were summoned from pockets of Arcane energy... Erebus clearly saw it in his near future, several monsters lie ahead, but he was close enough to kiss the face of success. Erebus felt euphoria restimulate him, perhaps it was the adrenaline? Regardless, it was time to make a grandiose deal to Hephaestus for the mutual control of this area. In the case Sentinel Syndicate would have no where to go. Brewing feuds were about to kick off. And this was one of, if not the most important, venture Erebus would make for the guild.

“Konstantin wouldn’t like it if I failed. I guess that means I have no room to accept denial.” He smirked. Knowing good and well, that after all this time, Erebus could add meaning to his sour shade. If he was perceived bad, that was good. It meant people would know, Erebus was here to balance order and chaos, the Syndicate was just the medium, the magic lie dormant; waiting. Time to advance closer. Swords moved like lightning, snipping the Harpies of 1 wing each, golden blood trickling the face of the fighter. He complained, of course, but for some strange reason. He felt free here. No judgement, just butcher, let them recover, and move onto the next target. It was, in a soft way of looking at it, refreshing to the killer. It made him imagine sparing others, perhaps without decapitating them afterwards. Erebus peeped a smile, dodging claws from his attackers.

Erebus pressed for long periods of time, slaughtering was growing boring. Erebus knew that a better plan had to be found somewhere. He opted to slow down and actually try to reason with the beasts halting his pass. Upon doing so, everything seemed to fall away like hallucinations. As it turned out, the Workshop was within reachable distance, but a special protection caused Invader's to delude themselves and look forever. After speaking to the great and powerful Hephaestus, Erebus made a nod towards the entity, promising the land was his, but the territory would be protected and vice versa used if they needed protecting themselves. The Smith God didn't appear to take this any kind of insulting way and spoke to Erebus for many hours. Opening him up like a therapist, which made the Zombie rethink himself in a lot of areas. There was no fixing his transgressions, but he might someday be able to redeem them. The Zombie walked around the workshop talking to the locals, most of which were unhappy about any sort of "Conquest" in question. But after explaining that no violence was in motive, and that he had grown bored of aggressive takeover, the odd creatures lightened up. Erebus spent the summer with the people there, building relations and the closest thing to trust he'd ever known. When he departed back for the mountains, his personality had softened, he was still twisted, but not so much to the point that he couldn't conversate before he lost his mind.

This new outlook on reality was beneficial both to him and later to the Guild because he had secured the area for Kon, and the alliance for both parties, with their locals on seemingly decent standings after the fact. The success was fruitful, and there was no reason to linger on his path. Erebus returned home to the Syndicate, never forgetting the strange and unnecessary hospitality he came to know.


Topic End.