50 BILLION REASONS FOR REVENGE

FAILED SEDUCTION

The sun climbed high into the center of the sky, baking the dusty grounds of the Iron Raiders’ camp. Five thousand men stood in perfect formation, their armor gleaming and their horses neighing with impatience. They were ready for blood. They were ready for the city. But the man who was supposed to lead them was nowhere to be found.

Toby paced back and forth in front of the ranks, his heavy boots crushing the dry grass. He kept looking toward the grand black tent where Zeus slept.

"Where is he?" Toby roared, turning to his captains. "The scouts say the city gates are weak today! This is the hour! Why isn't Zeus leading the charge?"

"He hasn't come out, my Lord," a soldier replied nervously. "We knocked, but there was no answer."

Inside the tent, Zeus was trapped in a heavy, gray fog. He could hear the muffled sounds of the army outside, but his limbs felt like they were made of lead. Every time he tried to lift his head, the world spun violently. His heart, usually steady as a drum, thundered erratically in his chest.

"Maria..." he whispered, his voice a dry rasp. He tried to sit up, but he collapsed back onto the furs, his muscles refusing to obey.

A soft hand touched his forehead. Zeus squinted, trying to focus his blurred vision. A young woman was leaning over him. It was Agnes, a maiden of the camp known for her beauty and her knowledge of herbs.

"Stay still, Zeus," Agnes whispered, her voice like honey. "You are too weak to move. You cannot go to the war today."

Zeus grabbed her wrist, his grip weak but his eyes burning. "What... what did you do?"

The night before, Agnes had come to Zeus’s tent. She had worn her finest silks and brought a flask of expensive wine. She had watched Zeus from afar for weeks—his strength, his wealth, and the quiet sadness that made him look like a fallen king.

"You don't have to go, Zeus," she had said, leaning close enough for him to smell the jasmine in her hair. "Stay here with me. Toby will win the war, and you can stay safe. You have enough money to buy a hundred cities. Why risk your life for a dead man’s revenge?"

Zeus had moved her hand away coldly. "My life ended when my family died. The only thing left is the debt I owe Gabriel. Leave me, Agnes. I have no room in my heart for you or anyone else."

Rejected and stinging with pride, Agnes had left. But she wasn't just angry; she was terrified. She was convinced that if Zeus went to the city, Gabriel’s archers would find his heart. She couldn't let him die.

She had returned later with a bowl of hearty beef stew. "Eat," she had said softly. "You need strength for tomorrow. I am sorry for my boldness."

Zeus, trusting her as a member of the camp, had eaten. He didn't taste the powdered root of the Sleepy-Lily—a potent herb that didn't kill, but paralyzed the body and clouded the mind for twenty-four hours.

"I did it for you!" Agnes cried now, as Zeus struggled to breathe. "If you go there, you will die! Gabriel has thousands of soldiers! Stay here, and when you wake up tomorrow, the war will be over. We can leave this place. We can start a new life!"

"You... fool," Zeus groaned, his head falling back. "You have stolen... my justice."

Outside, Toby’s patience had snapped. He stormed toward the tent, his face a dark shade of purple. He pushed past the guards and ripped the tent flap open.

He stopped dead. He saw Zeus lying helpless, and he saw Agnes sitting by his side, her hand resting possessively on Zeus’s chest.

Toby felt a hot spike of jealousy pierce his gut. For months, Toby had tried to win Agnes. He had offered her jewels, silk, and the highest position among the camp women. She had rejected him every single time, usually with a cold look of disgust. And here she was, risking everything to "save" a man who didn't even want her.

"Agnes?" Toby’s voice was a low growl. "What is the meaning of this?"

Agnes stood up, facing the giant warlord. "He isn't going, Toby. I’ve given him the Lily-Root. He stays with me."

Toby looked at Zeus—the man he had made a partner, the man he had given 50 billion dollars—and then back at the woman he desired. The jealousy boiled over into pure, unadulterated rage.

"You poisoned him?" Toby screamed. "We are meant to be at the city gates by sundown! The men are waiting! The plan depends on him!"

"I don't care about your plan!" Agnes shouted back. "I won't let you use him as a shield! Find another way to kill your enemies!"

Toby turned his gaze to Zeus. He saw the weakness in the man he once feared. In that moment, Toby didn't see a legendary warrior or a friend. He saw a rival who had taken the heart of the woman he wanted and the loyalty of the men he led.

"You think you’re a god because you cleared a forest?" Toby hissed at the semi-conscious Zeus. "You’re just a lucky servant who stumbled into a fortune. And now you’ve ruined my timing."

Toby turned to his personal servants who had followed him into the tent. "Lock him up! Tie him to the center pole of this tent! When we return from the city, I will decide if I should hang him for cowardice or just take back my billions!"

The servants looked at each other. They looked at Zeus. Even though he was sweating and unable to lift his arms, his eyes were still the eyes of the man who had cleared 500 hectares of solid forest alone. They remembered the sound of his axe and the way he looked when he spoke of justice.

"My Lord..." one servant stammered, backing away. "We... we cannot."

"What did you say?" Toby roared.

"He is Zeus," the servant whispered, his voice trembling. "Even sick, he is... he is not a man to be touched. If he wakes up and we have bound him... he will kill us all."

"He can’t even move his legs!" Toby yelled, kicking a stool across the tent. "Grab him! That is an order!"

The servants stayed frozen. They feared Toby’s anger, but they feared Zeus’s spirit more. There was a legend growing around Zeus—that he was protected by the ghosts of his family.

Toby realized he was losing control. He looked at Agnes, who was now shielding Zeus with her own body.

"Fine!" Toby spat, his voice shaking with fury. "Keep your broken servant. I will lead the army myself. I will take the city, I will kill Gabriel, and when I return, I will show this camp what happens to those who fail me."

Toby marched out of the tent. "Mount up!" he bellowed to the army. "Zeus is a coward! He hides in his tent while real men bleed! We move now!"

A murmur ran through the ranks. The men respected Toby, but they worshipped Zeus. The energy of the army shifted. The confidence that had been there that morning evaporated. They began to move, but the spirit of the march was gone.

Inside the tent, the silence was heavy. Agnes sat back down by Zeus, wiping his brow with a cool cloth.

"They are gone, Zeus," she whispered. "It’s just us now. You’re safe."

Zeus’s fingers twitched. His mind was fighting the poison with every ounce of his will. He didn't want safety. He didn't want Agnes. He wanted the cold feel of Gabriel’s throat beneath his hands.

I have to get up, he told himself, the words echoing in the darkness of his mind. I have to... get up...

It took hours. The sun began to set, casting long, orange shadows across the floor of the tent. Agnes had fallen asleep in a chair nearby, exhausted by her own nerves.

Slowly, the fog in Zeus’s brain began to lift. The Lily-Root was strong, but Zeus’s body was hardened by decades of manual labor and the sheer intensity of his clearing the 500 hectares. His metabolism was like a furnace, burning through the toxin faster than any normal man’s could.

He felt a spark of feeling in his toes. Then his knees. He gripped the edge of his bed, his knuckles turning white. With a groan of pure agony, he rolled off the furs and onto the rugs.

"Agnes..." he growled.

The girl jumped awake. "Zeus! You shouldn't be moving! You’ll hurt yourself!"

Zeus ignored her. He crawled toward his armor, which stood on a wooden rack in the corner. Each movement felt like his bones were being ground into glass.

"You stayed behind because you were afraid!" Agnes cried, tears streaming down her face. "Why can't you just stay?"

Zeus managed to pull himself up using the armor rack. He looked at her, his eyes clear and terrifying.

"I have never been afraid of death, Agnes. I am only afraid of living in a world where a monster like Gabriel still breathes."

He reached for his sword—a heavy, master-crafted blade he had bought with his own hard-earned money. He strapped it to his waist, his hands shaking but steadying with every second.

"Toby has the army," Zeus said, his voice returning to its deep, commanding tone. "But he doesn't have the plan. He will walk into a trap. Gabriel is a coward, but he is a snake. He will have the walls lined with boiling oil and fire."

Zeus grabbed a flask of water and drank it all in one go. He felt his strength returning in a sudden, violent rush.

"Where is my horse?"

"Toby took the best ones," Agnes sobbed. "He left you nothing."

Zeus walked to the tent flap. He looked out at the nearly empty camp. Only a few guards and servants remained. He saw his black stallion, the one he had trained himself, tied near the stables. Toby hadn't taken it, fearing the horse would throw him.

Zeus walked toward the horse. The servants who had refused to lock him up fell to their knees as he passed.

"Commander!" one cried. "Lord Toby said you were a coward!"

Zeus mounted the stallion in one fluid motion. He looked down at the servant. "Toby is a warlord. I am a father who has lost everything. There is a difference."

He looked back at Agnes, who stood at the tent entrance, looking small and broken.

"Do not ever poison a man’s destiny again, Agnes. You didn't save my life. You just made the path to my revenge a little bloodier."

With a kick of his heels, Zeus and the stallion bolted out of the camp. He wasn't leading an army of five thousand anymore. He was alone. But as he rode toward the city, the wind at his back, he felt the presence of Maria, Leo, and Sara.

He didn't need an army. He was the storm.