"Just what happened here?" Talos asked Arnold as soon as they arrived on the Island.
"Battle... with a Demigod..." Yan replied before Arnold got the chance to.
"Oh really? I thought it was a battle between two ant colonies." Talos shook his head before looking at the hell in front of him.
Talos thought that the scene they had made in the wasteland was as bad as it could get. But Arnold proved him wrong, yet again. The island was in far worse condition than the wasteland had ever been. No matter where Talos' eyes went, all he saw was carnage and death. The entire ocean around Cetus was filled with corpses. Even, Yan, who was a master of death felt a bit out of place with all the death around him. One could guess that things have gotten way out of hands, when a Lich starts freaking out after seeing death all around him.
Upon, Arnold's request, the warriors along with his summons were busy collecting the corpses of the Olympians in a heap, while the bodies of warriors were being organised in neat rows. The only thing was, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't find everyone's corpses as most of them have been either tossed in the ocean ot have been eaten by the whale they were standing on. Out of the thirty-five thousand warriors who were missing, they could only manage to find the corpse of about a couple of thousand of them.
While the two of Arnold's summons were shocked after seeing the aftermath of the battle. The warriors who had seen it all happen right in front of them, felt something they had never before: A sense of guilt after winning the battle. They were used to celebrating even the smallest of victories. However, that wasn't the case this time.
Despite this victory was the biggest victory in the history of humanity, no one was happy with the end result of the battle. Even if the humans had won against the Demigod and his army, it didn't felt like a victory to them. The sad thing was, they were right.
There was no victor in this battle. Most of the warriors felt disgusted due to their inability to protect their comrades. And no one could blame them for feeling that way. After all, they had won after sacrificing more than thirty-five thousand people.
These people were just like them who had family and friends that they won't ever get to see again. All because of a demigod who woke up on the wrong side of the bed and decided to rain hell on them.
They felt like they had no right to be happy. For the world, they were heroes, but in their eyes, they were just cowardly basta*ds who survived just because they decided to stick close to Arnold's summons rather than go all out in the battle.
They thought taking out their anger and frustrations on Hercules would have them feel better. But it didn't. Their anger was gone but regret had taken its place. It was clear from their faces how much of a toll this battle had taken on both their body and their soul.
Prior to this fight, they thought of themselves as unrivalled stars. Only now they realised their strength didn't mean sh*t in front of the vast universe. There was always someone better than them. They now realised that all they had was borrowed powers, and nothing more. If it hadn't been for Arnold, all of them were as good as gone. The world was filled with better and worse versions of loss. And for them, this was the worse loss they could ever experience.
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