(PS: Please support me on patreon there 135+ chapters there and there also my new GoT: The True Dragon Fanfiction of Game of Thrones
https://patreon.com/BX_XDS)
The thin, pearly glow of twilight was just beginning to seep through the cracks of the weathered wooden shutters when a sudden, thunderous, metallic crash jolted Kassandra violently awake.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! THOOM! Thud! Thud! Thud! CLANG!
Weapons were clashing with brutal, bone-jarring force. It didn't sound like a battle; it sounded like two blacksmiths had decided to murder each other using the tools of their trade.
Kassandra's eyes snapped open—instantly alert. In one fluid motion, she rolled silently off her cot, grabbed the broken Spear of Leonidas, and pushed the door open. A rush of cold morning breeze swept into the room, raising goosebumps on her bare arms. Dew clung heavily to the grass outside, and the clouds were just starting to catch the first vivid hints of pink and fiery orange dawn.
And then she saw them.
In the small clearing behind Markos's house—illuminated starkly by the rising sun—two massive figures were locked in a duel of overwhelming power. It was Alexios and Lukas, sparring. Both were shirtless, their chests heaving, both drenched in sweat that sheeted down their skin, making their already taut muscles shine in the early light. Their breath came out in hot, misty plumes, creating miniature clouds as they circled each other like focused, ruthless predators.
Kassandra blinked once… then sighed deeply, lowering her spear until the tip rested on the dirt.
"Idiots…so early in the morning" she muttered, but the slight, appreciative smile that touched her lips betrayed her annoyance.
She leaned against the rough wooden doorpost, crossing her arms over her chest, and watched quietly.
Alexios moved like a honed weapon—fast, fierce, and relentlessly agile. His Sword of Damokles carved flashing arcs of silver light in the humid air, every strike honed and sharp enough to split bone. His feet shifted over the hard-packed dirt with practiced, lightning ease; the ground barely crunched beneath his boots.
Lukas was his polar opposite: a force of nature, powerful and overwhelming. He held the massive, heavy Hammer of Jason as if it weighed no more than a stick of kindling. Each swinging, crushing strike sent a visible gust of wind whipping through the clearing.
When the hammer met the sword, the impact was terrifying: THOOM!
A palpable shockwave rolled across the yard, rattling loose stones, shaking the porch, and sending a flock of birds scattering in alarm from the nearby olive trees. Sparks erupted from the collision, bursting into the air like brilliant, brief fireflies before dissolving into the mist.
They separated, panting deeply, eyes locked and burning with competitive, challenging fire.
"You're slower than an old goat trying to climb uphill today!" Alexios shouted, his voice tight with exertion, dodging a crushing downward smash with impossible speed.
Lukas snorted, spitting a stream of sweat into the dirt. "My hammer hits harder than your insults!"
He slammed the weapon down, intentionally missing, driving the iron head a hand-span deep into the earth and creating a small, temporary crater. Alexios was forced to leap back barely in time, his boots skidding wildly in the loose dirt.
Despite herself, Kassandra felt a distinct skip in her heart. When did they get this fast? This strong?
They exchanged blow after blow, a punishing, rhythmic assault, each strike pushing their bodies to the absolute limit. Sweat dripped down their muscular backs, flicking off with every movement. The dawn sun climbed slowly, painting the eastern sky a dazzling, confident gold.
Twenty minutes bled into thirty. Then almost an hour.
Finally, with one last explosive collision that sent the sword ringing sharply, they both staggered apart. Alexios dropped heavily to one knee, chest heaving, using his sword to prop himself up like a cane. Lukas bent over, hands resting on his massive thighs, gulping air in huge, desperate draughts like a drowning man.
Their first instinct? Immediately argue.
"I won," Alexios wheezed, weakly pointing his sword toward Lukas.
"You?!" Lukas barked, forcing himself upright. "Your sword tip kissed the dirt when you dodged—that counts as dropping it, you lost, Malaka!"
"It slipped on the gravel!"
"Then maybe hold it tighter, goat-head!"
"Oh, shut up, you hairy—"
Before they could escalate into a full, shouted match, Kassandra clapped her hands sharply, the sudden, crisp sound cutting through the humid air.
Both men froze instantly, their heads snapping toward her.
She smirked, her arms remaining crossed. "Well,"
she drawled, her voice holding a dry, unimpressed tone, "that was… surprisingly impressive. Since when did you two fight with such ferocity?" She raised a skeptical brow. "And why didn't I see any of this raw power when dealing with Cyclops' thugs a week ago?"
Alexios and Lukas exchanged a heavy, knowing look—a shared connection that excluded her. Then, they burst into loud, ragged, breathless laughter. Alexios dropped onto his back in the cool dirt, wheezing from the pain and the effort of laughing. Lukas wiped tears of exertion from his eyes, shaking his head.
Kassandra stared at them, completely bewildered. "What," she said flatly, "is so funny?"
Alexios sucked in a huge, noisy breath of air. "They were nothing more than glorified, drunken thugs, Kass. They were utterly nothing compared to Atlas's training regimen."
Kassandra blinked, the unexpected name causing a sudden stillness in her. Atlas? What did Atlas have to do with this display of brutal combat skill?
Before she could form the question, Lukas straightened slowly, his huge face shifting from amusement to a look of solemn, profound seriousness.
"You see," he began quietly, leaning heavily on his hammer's shaft, his voice lower and deeper than usual, "Atlas… he's a beast all on his own. He is the reason we are still alive."
Kassandra felt a strange, cold tingling trace up her spine. Lukas almost never spoke with this level of reverence or weight.
"He trained us since we were small, scared children," he continued, the words measured and heavy. "He taught us how to fight, how to survive the worst, and ultimately… how to win against anything the world throws at us."
Alexios nodded slowly from the ground, confirming every word. "He reclaimed our camp from Chrysis's mercenaries. Built our home. We owe him everything we are."
"And he never, not once, stopped pushing us to be stronger," Lukas said, his voice steady but filled with a complex blend of respect, intense admiration, and a flicker of fear. He planted the hammer on the ground and looked Kassandra straight in the eyes, his own unusually intense.
"There are eight of us considered the strongest, the primary protectors of the camp," he began. "But strength doesn't mean a single thing when you're fighting Atlas."
He listed them, one by one, each name carrying the weight of shared history and deadly proficiency.
"Let's start with Me," Lukas said with a simple, massive shrug. "I specialize in Heavy Weapons." Kassandra smirked; the man looked like he could lift a small house. "Atlas put an axe in my hands when I was ten. Said if I could swing it, I could protect the younger ones." He cracked his knuckles. "He made me practice on old tree stumps until the hammer felt like an extension of my arm. Now… well, I can crack shields like pottery." He managed a proud grin—then winced, clutching his back. "My back hurts though…"
Alexios rolled his eyes from the dirt. "And Alexios?" Lukas nodded toward him. "He was trained with every weapon there is, but he mostly excels at Sword and Spear."
Alexios lifted the Sword of Damokles, letting the rapidly rising sun glint fiercely across its finely honed blade. "Atlas made me spar with him with wooden sticks first," Alexios said, his voice laced with reluctant but deep admiration. "Then spears. Then real blades. He told me: 'If you can wield two weapons at once, you can fight like you have two souls.'"
Kassandra arched a brow. She had felt Alexios's dual ferocity firsthand—it made perfect, unsettling sense.
Lukas's fierce expression softened slightly. "Thea—my sister. Bow and Dagger." He smiled faintly. "She was so small that Atlas had to shorten the bowstring for her himself. But she hit every target. Every single time. Atlas said she had 'the eyes of Artemis.'"
Alexios added, "She shoots faster than I can blink, and she's deadly up close too. Her Dagger works like a viper."
"Nikandros," Lukas said, moving on. "A Spear Master."
Alexios chuckled. "Biggest guy in the camp, second only to Lukas. And somehow, even faster."
"He once broke ten practice spears in one morning," Lukas said proudly. "Atlas made him fight two of us at once just to learn control."
"Did he win?" Kassandra asked, now fully invested.
Alexios shrugged, wiping sweat from his brow. "He survived. Which, with Atlas's methods, is usually the same thing."
"Eryx," Lukas continued, dropping his voice a degree. "Knives. Speed. Silence."
Kassandra raised her brows. "Silence?"
Alexios nodded seriously. "Atlas threw him into the dense wild with only a dull blade and said, 'Come back with three boars and don't make a sound.' He returned with five, and we never heard him leave or return."
Lukas shivered slightly. "He doesn't talk much. But you'll never, ever hear him coming for you."
"Phaedra," Lukas said next. "Twin Daggers."
Kassandra tilted her head. "Daggers? That sounds—"
"Terrifying," Alexios interrupted, sitting up now. "She moves like smoke across the ground. Doesn't speak unless she needs to cut you down. Atlas says she has 'the talent of the wind'."
Lukas nodded. "And she brings back rumors from every port. Secrets too. Somehow."
"Kyra," Lukas continued. "Cunning. Quick. Good at trade and wields Twin Daggers."
Kassandra blinked. "Trade?"
Alexios grinned, the mischief returning to his eyes. "She cons merchants who con others and are twice her age without them even noticing. Atlas taught her to negotiate before he taught her to fight."
Lukas added, "One time she traded a piece of a broken shield for two goats and a large bag of grapes. Atlas just laughed and said, 'Use everything as a weapon.'"
Finally, Lukas's tone grew deeply, almost respectful. "Then there's Leonidas."
Alexios nodded, his expression solemn. "Named after our grandfather, the king. Fierce. Brave. Atlas said he fights like someone with destiny biting at his heels."
Kassandra felt a strange, deep echo in her chest hearing that name and that profound description. Leonidas… destiny… It resonated with a primal power.
"Already respected by the younger ones," Lukas said. "He will be a leader one day. He knows how to rally others."
When Lukas finished listing the eight, the air felt heavier, thicker with meaning and unspoken history.
Alexios smirked again, trying to reclaim the moment. "We're the strong ones."
But the humor died quickly in his throat. Lukas let out a short, frustrated, self-deprecating laugh.
"But even with the eight of us combined…" he said slowly, shaking his head, his gaze distant.
"…we still can't beat Atlas."
Kassandra's heart skipped a beat, the shock hitting her hard. Eight trained, specialized warriors. Raised by hardship. Trained meticulously by Atlas himself. And yet—he surpassed all of them? What kind of monster was he?
She masked her profound shock instantly with a mocking, challenging smirk.
"So," she said teasingly, pushing off the doorpost and walking toward them, "you two are simply losers who complain too much about your aches and pains."
Alexios and Lukas glared, instantly, profoundly offended—a beautiful distraction from their exhaustion.
"Don't worry," she added, her voice smug and utterly confident. "For your pathetic sakes, I will defeat Atlas myself, and then you can call me the true master."
Alexios froze, the exhaustion leaving his face. Then—that familiar, dangerous smile spread across his features. A smile that promised complete, glorious chaos.
"You know…" he said in the most innocent, butter-wouldn't-melt-in-his-mouth tone possible. "That's a GREAT idea, Kassandra. You should challenge him right now! It would make for a great story."
Lukas blinked, and the realization of Alexios's scheme hit him. He knew that look—Alexios wasn't agreeing with Kassandra's confidence; he was setting up a spectacular, embarrassing disaster for her. Lukas wisely kept silent, taking a subtle, self-preserving step back.
Kassandra rolled her eyes and pointed toward the well behind the house. "Enough talking about your imaginary skills. Clean up and get ready. We've got Markos's remaining bandits and some other debts to settle before we can finally leave this island."
Alexios immediately saluted like a fool, though his eyes were still twinkling with wicked mischief. Lukas cracked his back with a loud, pained groan, already limping dramatically toward the well to splash cold water on his aching muscles.
The sun climbed golden and strong into the sky. A new day of training, travel, and unavoidable conflict had begun. And somewhere beyond the vineyard, on the deck of the Adrestia... Atlas was already awake—and Kassandra's challenge, unknowingly, was moving directly toward him.
(PS: Please support me on patreon there 135+ chapters there and there also my new GoT: The True Dragon Fanfiction of Game of Thrones
https://patreon.com/BX_XDS)