For four days and four nights, Nox did not sleep. He was in his workshop, his forge of the void. He was building.
He had the blueprints from Hephaestus's forge. He had the knowledge consumed from a hundred different warriors and mages. He was not just building weapons; he was building an army of constructs.
He forged soldiers of black iron and void energy, their forms sleek and predatory. He forged massive, hulking war-golems of stone and shadow. They were not mindless puppets; they were extensions of his own will, linked directly to his core.
On the fifth day, Elisa burst into his workshop. "Nox! We have a problem! The human soldiers… they're deserting."
That got his attention. He looked up, his purple-glowing eyes narrowing. "What?"
"Hera's words, the fear of fighting a real god… it's too much for them. Dozens of them have slipped away in the night."
