Heranes: Trials Of A Demigoddess (Patreon)

Heranes was a bitter kind of woman, even as far as the Greek heroes went. She was born a demigoddess, and to the queen of the gods herself. She bore her name in her honor, but to be fair, the gods weren't great people themselves. Hera was constantly jealous of Zeus' lechery, her husband known to constantly cheat on Hera and generally causing trouble. She had given birth to Heranes as an attempt to make the king of the gods jealous, but when that failed, she left the demigoddess babe to the world of mortals. She was taken in by farmers, where even as a little girl, her moody nature was overlooked in exchange for her massive strength that helped the farm to thrive. Soon slaughtering cattle with her bare hands, reaping entire fields of wheat, and brawls in the city bar weren't enough for their little girl, and she went off to travel the world while her foster parents were able to live to a ripe old age off of the profits she gave them alone.

Heranes didn't have to go far to figure out where she had come from. The family resemblance was there, and people couldn't help but compare her feats of strength and endurance to that of the amazing demigod turned god, Hercules... and that annoyed the piss out of her. Having a half-brother like Hercules would be enough to stir up envy in anyone, and a jealous and angry goddess' spawn would be no exception. Heranes finally marched to the nearest temple of Hera, kicked down the door, and demanded to know how she could achieve godhood "like my lazy jackass of a brother."

Hera was quick to reply, between the desecration and the presence of her own mighty blood. After much discussion and a little shouting on both of their parts, Hera's divine voice proposed her plan to give Heranes her position on Olympus, and to show up that good for nothing husband of hers and his bastard son.

"What?! Hades no! King Palthas is a crooked ruler and a decrepit old pervert!" Heranes blurted in reply. She had her mother's flowing hair of autumn-red and well-tanned skin, and wore a loose stola (think lady-toga and you’ll be fine) that ended in a skirt just above her knees. For a wandering warrior, she wore no breast plate and carried no shield. The armor broke easier than her flesh did, and it was hard to find one that fit the muscular but feminine (i.e. busty) twenty-something’s figure. It was all cloth stolas and leather sandals for her, though she wore leather bracers on her forearms as a fashion statement more than she did for protection.

"Precisely," Hera explained. "If you can show off a sexist, spoiled shit like him, you'll strike a blow for women and goddesses alike. Literally, I mean. Like, punch him in the face when you're done with them."

"But twelve!? ANY twelve things he asks!? You KNOW what he'll ask me to do!"

"First of all, Hercules did ten. We're two up on him this way. That'll show him..."

"No, he did twelve! I heard the stories! The stag, the boar, the lion..."

"He did ten. Ask anyone. And half of those didn't really count because he had help. Two of those were do-overs. And as far as Palthas, he wouldn't dare ask it of you. These have to be feats, not favors. Besides, at his age, you'd snap him in half before he could finish."

"Wouldn't even have to try," Heranes grumbled. "Have you seen this ass? He wouldn't even know what to do with it."

"I have," Hera responded grimly. "And I'm not sure I like you flaunting it like that. You're my daughter, after all."

"You threw me off a mountain, 'mom.' Big thanks for that, by the way."

"Oh, you survived. Don't be such a baby."

"I was LITERALLY a baby, mom!"

"Look, that's the best I've got, and I'm a goddess AND a queen! What else do you want?"

Heranes grunted and folded her arms across her breasts. "Alright, fine. Twelve and I'm done. But none of those 'do-over' craps. And I'm not getting help. If this doesn't work, then I'm climbing up there and braining all of you with a rock."

Hera sighed slightly. "You sound just like your step-father when you talk like that."

"Then dad sounds like a bitch." The women laughed at the joke before Heranes turned to hike her way to the kingdom of Daran.

For all her sass, Heranes' claims about King Palthas were pretty much on the nose. The half-blind king with his long white beard still grinned as his blurry eyes ran over the fit and feminine figure of the heroine.

"It's a pleasure to see you. I heard much from our prophets of Hera," grinned the ancient king.

"Yea, she can really ramble on, huh?" Heranes said with a roll of her eyes. "Imagine being her daughter. Now come on. You heard the rules right? Twelve trials. You got like a... checklist or something so I can just pump these out in a day?"

Palthas' smiled widened. "Oh, I heard all about it. Twelve feats only possible to the might of a god."

"Or goddess," Heranes cut in quickly. She really wasn't as much of a feminist as people made her out to be, but all she asked was that they at least consider it in the presence of a woman who could throw a house at you. She also just liked being contrary to the old jackass.

"Right. Well, what king am I to refuse the generosity of aid from Hera's own blood, eh? I have a trial all ready and waiting for you, my dear."

"It's Heranes."

"Yes, of course it is," he dismissed. "Your first task will be to clear the bandits from the northern plains."

Heranes snorted. "That's it? She asks for godly feats and you give her bandits? Fine by me."

"Not just any bandits," Palthas corrected. "These territories have been held by their clan for so long that armies have yet to clear them out. Her grasp on the land changes the very course of our trade routes. It is why she is called Deska the Bandit Queen."

"Cute. I'll go bust up your princess then. That should solve it, right?"

"You'll also be taking this." Palthas grabbed a shiny gold pendant from the arm of his throne, tossing it down to her. The buff Greek caught it neatly in one hand, giving it a casual glance. "It was enchanted specially for you. Even these old eyes will be able to see like a hawk through its lens. What better way to report all your successes to your mother?"

Heranes held it by the chain and looked it over again. The shiny blue gemstone in its front seemed to match what he was talking about. She shrugged and whipped the chain around her wrists, yanking it on like a bracelet around her leather gauntlet. King Palthas frowned a little, hoping that she would have put it on her neck and hung the mystic eye in between her impressive breasts. "Fine. Not like I was going to sneak off on you anyway. This should be the most interesting thing I’ve done in months. You can only throw a cow or punch out an entire bar so many times before it gets dull. So yea. Bandits. North. Queen. Got it."

Trial 1: clear the bandits from the lands of Deska the Bandit Queen

It was a long march for most people to reach the lands of the bandit queen, but at a brisk jog, Heranes made it by the afternoon. As she trotted down the road, she stopped by a scruffy man passing by on a horse. "Hey, you!" she called as she padded to a stop. "You know where Deska lives around here?"

"Funny you should ask," he grinned, producing his bow and aiming it at her. Heranes looked nonplussed at him as the bandit kicked a length of rope towards her from the back of his horse. "She'll pay good for a pretty one like you. You're going to see her."

Heranes sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yea. I am." She ducked towards him quickly, getting under his line of sight as she dipped under his horse. He turned to aim at the other side, but she never came out. Heranes lifted up the horse by shouldering it as if the beast and its rider were a sack of potatoes. The horse screamed and kicked, and the archer still couldn't get a shot.

"Which way did you say again?!" Heranes called over the shrieks of the horse. She shook it by the saddle, knocking the man to the ground and stomping a scandal menacingly onto his chest.

"EAST! STRAIGHT EAST!" he blurted before she had the chance to crush him, or worse, drop his horse on him like a stone. "The fort is right there! You can't miss it!"

Heranes smiled warmly back at him, kicking him the rope. "Thanks. I'll give the queen your regards. Now tie it." The man hesitated, but realized his bow had landed a few yards away and his attacker had her horse raised like she might throw it. He hurriedly wrapped it around his wrists as best he could. Heranes tossed him onto his horses back, turned him the other direction, and smacked it on the ass to send it speeding on its way, bouncing the bandit along on its back.

"Well this is promising," Heranes smiled, starting off on her jog once more. Sure enough, there was a looming fortress made of felled trees that were turned into great, spike-tipped logs. It was once a simple bandit camp, but as their power and numbers grew, so did their headquarters. Now it was as King Palthas said; they were practically a kingdom of their own, controlling whatever happened on their turf.

Heranes kicked the doors in and off their hinges in one shot. This was no small feat, since they were about twenty feet tall and had withstood battering rams in the past. They flew in and smashed a handful of the bandits before she even set eyes on them, looking around the large but simple wooden fort. A few fires going for cooking, some unfortunate-looking sorts off on the sides doing laundry or other demeaning work, and lots of startled men and women with swords.

"Hey," Heranes greeted with a slightly crooked but winning smile. "Where's the queen?"

A pair of wild-eyed women with knives rushed at her as the closest to Heranes' position. She sidestepped the first one's blade, kicking the legs out from under her and letting her land in the dirt. She palmed the other’s head, squeezing enough for her to squeal and stop thrashing. She lifted them both up to clunk their heads together, letting them go limp. Finally she grabbed their leather-armored skirts, flipping them over and with a sharp tear of each super strong hand, destroyed the armor and left them both naked in a heap at her feet.

Heranes held open her arms invitingly. "I make my point? Now where's Deska?" A number of the raiders fled on the spot, but most of them simply fell into combat positions. Several went for weapons or cover, while the archers from the high grounds turned around to aim their crossbows inside the fort rather than out. Heranes sighed and grabbed one of the larger pieces of the door, big enough for someone to use as a boat. She dove back and raised it as an improvised shield, letting the bolts bury into the wood instead of herself. The best they could manage was to fill the board with arrows, almost doubling its weight before one of the last ricocheted off the dozens of other shots, poking a hole in the heroine's scandal.

"REALLY?!" she cursed to herself. "I just got... okay, now I'm pissed." Heranes gave a shake of the lump of wood, rattling most of the arrows loose before she flung it like a discus. It smashed into the watchtower next to the archers, pelting them with an explosion of wood chips and debris as they leapt for cover and abandoned their posts, shrieking in fear. Deska's loyalists charged, and mostly women as far as Heranes could tell. It had been part of Deska's recruitment method to gather as many female underlings and bandits as she could. They were given fewer opportunities in this age, and so would be that much more grateful and loyal for the entry into her army of outlaws.

Heranes caught an incoming mace by the handle, kneeing its owner in the groin. The attacking bandit quickly fell to her knees, just for the Greek brute to kick her in the chest and send her flying back into some of her comrades. One more jumped onto Heranes' shoulders from a walkway above, wrapping her arms around her neck. Heranes grunted, but grabbed her by the leg and swung her around, clunking her head against the nearest robber's skull to put them both out. A heavyset bandit, towering at over six feet tall, barged past her fellow raiders, brandishing a heavy steel battleaxe. This at least got Heranes' attention, grabbing one more bandit by the hair and chucking her over the fence almost casually. The giant bandit roared and swung for Heranes, but the demigoddess caught the axe by the flat center of its head, bending enough to curve the weapon to one side at an almost comical angle. The big woman paled a moment, then tried to run for it. Heranes caught her by the back of her pants and yanked up on her underwear, getting a panicked shriek as she lifted the hefty woman off the ground by them.

"Would you stupid bitches get off of her before she kills the bloody lot of you!?" barked a high, angry voice. The raiders stopped their fruitless attack and Heranes looked up at the source. There was a scowling woman with big, bushy red hair (though a more bright and fiery shade than Heranes’ own locks) running down her back. She wore a green, studded loincloth and similarly dyed breastplate, though it served about as much cover as an armored bra and panties from Heranes' point of view. She could respect that, even if it seemed a lot less smart when you were properly mortal. She had a tightly-fastened, brown leather eyepatch, and big freckles over her tiny nose and big bosoms. What looked to be a long scimitar was sheathed on her belt.

The new woman climbed down from some room built into the further reaches of the camp and took a big drink from a large jug of something. She waved the jug at Heranes before she stuck it into a loop in her belt and bothered with the sword, her voice either slurring from the drink or just a part of her exotic accent. "And would ya put Deande down, ya big oaf?"

"She started it," Heranes grumbled before dropping the fat woman by her stretched out panties. "You the bandit queen?"

"Deska," corrected Deska. "In the fort, it's just Deska. Why? What'd I do to ye?"

Heranes' shrugged. "You annoyed some king I owe a bunch of favors to so I can become a goddess."

Deska squinted at her, then looked to her bottle, then back at her. "Really now?"

"Pretty much. I'm skipping a lot of boring parts. Mostly when I was an angsty teen wondering about my 'real mom,' and learned the meaning of... yea, see?" She made a spiraling motion with her fingers. "Boring parts. Point is, I have to break up your whole bandit kingdom thing."

"Well... no."

"No?" Heranes repeated, raising her eyebrow."

"Aye. No."

"Ohhhh, Hades' balls," Heranes groaned, running a hand through her hair as the two started to approach each other. "I really hate it when people tell me no. I do not deal well with rejection, missy."

Deska raised her wide sword and gestured at the partly ruined camp. "So join me. Be an outlaw. Ferget that mess and live like a queen."

Heranes smirked and cracked her neck. "Queens are for people who settle. I'm becoming a goddess."

The heroine threw a punch at Deska, who proved to be the only one so far quick enough to block it. She raised the flat of her blade rather skillfully, stopping the fist short. The impact rang through her blade and it numbed the bandit queen's hands, but she stayed standing, which was more than what most people punched by Heranes (blocked or not) could say.

Deska took a few brisk steps back, whirling her blade as Heranes ducked back away from its tip. "Not bad," Heranes had to admit. "You're basically at a record right now. Good sword swinging, too."

"It's called swordplay," Deska corrected curtly. "Used to be a pirate before I crashed on this great and silly rock and picked up the pieces with the locals."

"Funny story. Don't care," Heranes said with a bright smile. She grabbed for Deska, but she danced back a few paces and swept her sword through the nearest campfire. The ashes kicked up into Heranes' face, getting her to yelp and rub at her eyes. She felt Deska kick her in the stomach, grunting but figuring what was coming next. She threw up a hand and caught the queen by her wrist, throwing her over her shoulder and crashing into a table. Deska groaned as she rolled off the table’s remains, running a hand through her hair as the various bits of food and drink stuck to her mane.

"Caught ye flinchin'," she grinned confidently at the brute of a heroine, even as she rubbed her sore back.

Heranes held up a wide jug by its chord. "Caught your drink."

Deska patted her hip, realizing what she had done. "Ohh, now ya gone and done it."

Deska came at her again, whipping the blade in a great flurry of steel. Heranes backed away, having fought enough people with swords before to know that they hurt. They weren’t as awful on her as they were for normal people, but still tended to be a mess of blood and hurt all the same. It was at least not negligible enough that when Deska's blade ticked against her stola’s shoulder, popping one of her big round breasts out into the air, Heranes didn't even break a sweat. When her back hit the wall of the fortress, Deska's women shouting and cheering her on (and cheering for the free show of demigodly tits), Heranes grabbed the nearest pillar and pushed it into the way of her incoming sword. The blade buried into the wooden pillar instead of her flesh, Heranes giving a proud laugh at her quick thinking and superior strength.

Heranes hadn’t considered all she damage she had done to the structure so far, and the catwalk and a few lesser walls suddenly collapsed on top of her. After a great mess and clattering, she pushed her way back out of the rubble, coughing and dusting herself off. She was only up to her shoulders in the fresh air when Deska poured some of her booze over her head, getting a laugh from the crowd of thieves. "Have some on me, ye big dumb beauty," she snickered before kicking Heranes in the teeth. She grunted, but shoved her way out of the rubble. Deska reclaimed her sword, just for Heranes to swing an entire tree's worth of a log to smack it out of her grip rather than risked losing her hand with it.

Heranes threw the log like a javelin at her, the red headed bandit throwing herself onto her belly to avoid being impaled by it. Heranes grabbed her by an arm, but Deska kicked her thick boot up between her legs. Heranes groaned and fell to her knees, cupping her freshly aching groin. "Why do they ALWAYS go for the pussy?" she cursed.

"Cuz it works," Deska sneered back, crawling over to reach for her sword.

"Yea? Well so does this!" Heranes grabbed Deska by the hair before she reached her weapon, dragging her back over to her. She grabbed the downed bandit by both shoulders and lifted her up, squeezing and then tearing apart at the shoulders of her top. It shred into pieces in her mighty hands, baring Deska's big jiggling breasts and throwing away her loincloth before her gawking followers. For all their public baths and lack of privacy in the camp, no one had ever seen their lady naked before now.

With one more sweep of her arm, Heranes hurled Deska into the air with massive force and a shrill scream of terror as she went. The bandit queen rocketed into the air while Heranes turned to point at the rest of the bandits, one hand still rubbing her aching crotch and one of her tits hanging out of her top. "Rest of you!" she barked. "I'm going to count to thirty, and when I'm done, I'm going to start smashing every head that even LOOKS like it belongs to a bandit! You got me?!"

To punctuate her statement, the distant screaming of Deska, wordless shrieks of no particular meaning but pure terror, came zooming back down at them. The bandits were frozen as they watched to see what would happen with grim fascination, but Heranes turned, grabbed Deska by the neck in midair, and gave her what roughly equated to a chokeslam from miles up in the air. The impact shook the ground, and knocked several more pieces of the fort apart until it was clearly beyond any hopes of repair or use, just a big pile of logs.

"Five!" Heranes shouted, still kneeling with her hand on the KOed queens' neck. "Six!" The bandits took the point and ran for it in any direction they could.

Heranes walked past the guards back into the gates of Daran. King Palthas laughed as she arrived. "What a wonderful display that was!" he cackled in his dry and dirty tone. His smile dropped a bit as he noticed Heranes dragging one huge log behind her, one salvaged from the camp. It dragged wood and dirt over his throne room's floors, and gave off a wholel lot of... cursing? She dropped it with a thud, showing a good fifty bandits tied to it in various degrees of conscious, angry, and bound.

"Hey. How big's your jail?"

"I'm, er... what?"

"Your jail. I got like fifty here for you." She stared at him when he stared blankly back. "You told me to break up the bandits. I caught all I could, and it was your order. I broke em up. Now you take care of them. See what I care you do with them." Heranes paused and pointed back at the log. "Except that one."

Deska's good eye widened. "Wait, me?"

"The bandit queen herself?" King Palthas questioned.

"Yea. She was fun," Heranes said with a shrug. "She's good with a sword, and I'm not. I could stand to use a trick or two with them. I'd still have her in cuffs half the time, but better out there than the chopping block, right?" Heranes smiled warmly despite the predicament she had Deska in. She blinked at her vacantly for a moment, but nodded.

"Is... izzat alright, yer kingness?"

King Palthas frowned and stroked his beard. He had expected to take credit for her fall, but letting the queen go was a risk.

"Or, I mean, you try to keep her in one spot. Show him what you showed me, Des." Deska was held to the tree by several chains around her waist, one with a padlock in the front. Deska touched it and didn't even seem to visibly do anything before she popped it loose and wrapped it around her fist in one quick motion. "So your call, but frankly... I think she'd kill your prison staff to the last guard if you had her around."

King Palthas frowned and thought this over. "She'll be your responsibility then, not mine," he quickly deflected. "And she's to provide no help on your tasks."

"Hells, I'd punch her if she did. Just someone to talk to, drink with, get me place to place. She's a foreigner and still seems to know more about this part of the country than I do."

Palthas waved and grumbled. "Fine. The Queen is yours. Just keep her out of my sight and out of my news." Heranes grinned, taking it as a victory to not only finish her first task, but to annoy the jackass who gave it to her. She walked over to rip the last of the chains off of Deska, waving to the guards. "You got the rest, right? Cool," she dismissed.

Heranes and Deska were quick to work out their relationship while the king came up with her next task in the morning. Deska had most of her gear replaced, and was planned to be in cuffs or some manner of binding, only for Deska to casually show her how easily she got out of them each time. Heranes trusted Deska to fear her enough to not stab her in the back, but didn't count on that kind of attitude to make her always have her back. Heranes took the outlaw to an oracle of Hera, who happened to have just the thing, as the gods would have it. She gave Deska a golden bracelet, which on top of being stylish, would paralyze the former bandit queen whenever Heranes spoke the magic word at so much a whisper. They called it the Bracer of the Monkey Queen.

"Yobitdjtop?" Heranes repeated with a giggle. "Oh wow, that's going to be a blast. Come on! Des! Gimee a reason to test it!" Deska gave a wave of her arm, but the bracelet shone unnaturally. She frowned and decided not to try. "Good dog," Heranes praised, grinning and rubbing the one-eyed warrior on the back of her bushy head.

King Palthas called them back in the morning, with Deska in her new enchanted jewelry.

"I have decided your next trial. You did well on the test of the bandits," Palthas said, glancing at Heranes' new prisoner/pet. "I thought you would be ready for something a bit bigger. In the mountains, there are the three Sisters Geryon. I want you to steal their cattle for me."

Heranes threw up her arms and paced in a small circle. "Holy Hermes' hat... did you just send me against an army and now it's just THREE? You're softballing me, Pal!"

"These are no normal sisters, and no normal cattle. These sisters have lived for centuries, ageless and beautiful forever. Their secret is their cattle; beautiful slave women who produce milk all year round." The old perv grinned and licked his dry lips. "I want those women and their life-giving milk. Imagine the leadership I could provide my kingdom and our gods if I had my youth again."

Heranes rolled her eyes and frowned at Deska. "Yea, and what he'd do with a bunch of big-titted women around and his youth again."

"How do ye do that?" Deska pried with a frown.

"Do what?" Heranes looked confused at the bandit.

"That," she said, gesturing a spiral at her eyes.

"What, rolling? It's easy. It's like this." Heranes rolled them again, but looked to the staring, one-eyed bandit. "Ah. Right.  You uh... you keep practicing. You'll get it eventually." She patted Deska on the shoulder. "Come on, queenie. Road trip time. Bring your hiking boots"

Trial 2: steal the milk maidens of the Sisters Geryon

Heranes had little trouble arriving again. Deska had tried to sneak out when they camped that night, but Heranes was used to watching the stars and didn't sleep as much as normal people did. She could go an entire day without rest if she wanted, which her parents told her made it hell when she was an infant. Heranes pretended to be asleep before muttering "Yobitdjtop" and Deska immediately froze up and fell on her face.

"Point taken, lass."

"Good dog. Gedjassbackup," Heranes chanted quickly, getting the bandit to gasp and crawl dejectedly back to camp to rest for the night. The two finally scaled the mountains, some by path and some by hands. Deska continued to keep her interest as the woman nimbly bound from rock to handhold, claiming it was easier than a ship's rigging. Heranes wasn't as nimble, but punching holes in the rock to make her own handholds seemed to do just as well.

When they reached the peak, Deska was sent ahead for a quick scouting mission (quick as in she had 10 minutes until Heranes said the magic word again). She returned with an apple she didn't have before, munching on it casually.

"It's like the ol' windbag said. Small camp. Cave with a cage in front. Must be where they're keepin' the women." She took another obnoxious bite. "Food and stuff out in the open. Either they don't think anyone knows they're here, or that no one's dumb enough to come pokin' around."

Heranes nodded. "Just the three of them?"

Deska swallowed and held up three fingers. "Identical, 'cept for the hair. Red, white, and gold. One spear, one knife, one bare-handed."

Heranes considered what she'd been told. "Yea, Aestasa, Cadent, and Hiems. Summer, Fall and Winter. Matches the colors and all. Everything's gotta be a gods-damned symbolism thing, doesn't it?" Deska stared at her and spit out some seeds as she finished the apple. "Sorry. Done a lot of this quest stuff. I swear if one of these things asks me a fucking riddle, I'm tearing its head off."

"So?" Deska shrugged, chucking her apple core off the mountain, just to feel a little power over something after her fresh disgrace. "What's the move? Ye want I should take out the lock and let 'em out all quiet-like?"

"Nah, I got this," Heranes insisted. She climbed up the lip of the cliff, hopping off into the campsite. "Yo!" she belted out. Three women sat among the camp, some food and a small fire going. They looked up in surprise, though not as much as Heranes might have expected from her sudden challenge. "Gimme your cattle!" Deska quietly smacked herself in the forehead from her hiding spot.

The women rose, tall and thin, but every bit as beautiful and young as the king had claimed. They had milky white skin, and hairs just how Deska had described, clad in plain silken robes. They looked barely into their twenties, and were a sort of lean and muscular that did nothing to interfere with their looks. Heranes was far stronger and bigger, but damn if she couldn't be a little jealous of their figures. If she had looks like that, maybe then she wouldn't have gone through "Hairy Knees" and "Her Anus" in school before she showed everyone she could break her desk in half over her thigh.

Two of the three beauties drew their weapons; a fishing spear and a knife that one had been using to carve up a fish. They advanced on the intruder, speaking for the first time.

"What did we catch, sisters?" spoke Aestas, the gold-haired sister.

"Something new, I thinks," added Cadent, the redheaded Autumn sister.

"New meat, or new milk?" grinned the white-haired Hiems. "Shall we see?"

Heranes frowned as they moved in their deliberate, fluid motions, speaking up whenever one of the others ended their sentences. "Okay, Deska? I'm started to get a little uncomfortable now."

"Don't you fuckin' bring me into this now!" Deska shouted back angrily over the ledge.

"Fine, I'll call you when I need you," Heranes called back. "By which I mean 'Yobitdjtop." There was a dull thump from over the ledge, and Heranes chuckled to herself before she braced herself against the attackers.

Heranes lunged for the one with the spear, but was quickly starting to see what the king had meant by them being a bigger deal than the army. These women had spent who knows how long living together with nothing but each other and a few slaves. They moved like a single body more than a unit, and each time one moved, so did another. So when Heranes grabbed at Aestas' spear, she pulled back and let Cadent move in with the knife, as if part of some invisible, multi-person joint of an arm. Heranes had to twist and catch the knife hand, falling over backward to hold back the force. Her other hand went to palm Cadent's face, pushing on the red-headed hermit's neck.

"Why's it always the redheads that get me in trouble?" she growled, but she noticed the third sister... seemingly mounting the second. Cadent kept her eyes on Heranes, but moaned as she felt her sister's breasts and groin press against her back. It distracted Heranes enough that her busy hands couldn't do much to stop Hiems from reaching around her sister and groping the demi-god's tits.

"Hey! Definitely not okay, even from sexy hermits!" Heranes shouted. She brought her foot up beneath Cadent and kicked up into her stomach, flinging the two women off of her together.

"No milk," sighed Hiems, a hint of disappointment in her musical tone.

"All dry," chimed Cadent in a similar voice.

"Only meat left," Aestas added, twirling her fishing spear and looking Heranes over.

"Hey, my eyes are up here!" she snapped, feinting a punch at Aestas only to turn and throw an elbow into Cadent's face. The dagger sister squeaked in surprise, but Hiem jumped onto Heranes' back. She wrapped her legs around the warrior's’ waist and put her arms into a full nelson, wrestling Heranes down to the ground and holding the demigodess’ body above her own. She wasn't genuinely stronger than the demi-goddess, by what she could tell, she just had surprising strength and the advantage of leverage. By the time she hit the ground, Aestas had already raised her spear to strike the spot she fell into.

Heranes swung her head back, thumping her skull quickly into Hiem's face. She snarled in surprise, letting go of the burlier woman to let her easily roll aside. The spear jabbed into Hiem's breast instead of Heranes, the skewered sister giving out a high-pitched shriek. Heranes glanced at the injured sister and her shocked-looking sibling, though she didn't see any blood come through the fine white garment. She started to charge at them when Cadent tackled into her side, jamming the knife into her abdomen.

"Ow! You little shit!" Heranes growled, grabbing her attacker by the hair. She turned and banged the triplet's head off the nearest wall of stone, Cadent looking glassy-eyed and giggling briefly before Heranes decided to give her one more thump there for good measure. Her mad cackling went a pitch higher, so Heranes twirled her upside down, trapped the triplet's head in between her thighs, and piledrove her into the rocky ground of their camp.

Cadent twitched, but then fell limply to the ground. Heranes frowned down at the slowly writhing woman, seeming out of the fight but leaking a bit of white from her temple. Heranes sighed again. "Bleeding milk. Yea. Why not?"

Aestas pulled her spear out of Hiems, the two standing to face Heranes again but looking a bit rattled between their sister being taken out of the picture and their own minor injuries. Heranes confirmed her suspicion when she saw the spear wound leaking its own thick, running milk. "You know, I'd ask about just letting me take the girls and go," Heranes panted, touching her side and coming back with her fingers red, rubbing them together with a scowl. "But damn do I hate being stabbed."

Hiems charged for her, but as Heranes braced for the attack, her sister lunged the spear in under Hiem's armpit. Heranes hopped back to avoid Aestas' spear tip, but Hiems ducked under her guard and squeezed the knife wound left by her sister. Heranes gave a pained scream, but its shrill pitch turned to a growl of fury within an instant. A thick bicep clamped around Aestas' head and the heroine dropped to the ground, slamming her face into the stone below.

Hiems bounced before she went limp on the ground, allowing Heranes to let her go and roll over to throw a kick that snapped the fishing spear in the middle of its haft. Aestas looked alarmed at the loss of her weapon, sizing up her foe and the state of her sisters.

"Come on," Heranes grinned, planting her feet. "Let's go three for three. I'm looking for a perfect score here."

Aestas seemed to try to cut her losses, sprinting for the cage door over the cave. Heranes caught her by her bright-colored hair, yanking her back and slamming a fist into the sister's deceptively youthful breast. Aestas bent over from the blow, but Heranes just grabbed a barrel behind her and smashed it over the pikewoman's head. It shattered into a huge splash of water, pouring out over the campsite and knocking the last sister out cold. Heranes dusted off her hands and stepped over some chunks of barrel towards the cage.

"Gedjassbackup!" she called over the cliff. "You're all clear."

Deska climbed over, rubbing the back of her head. "Aye, I thought that was the case. I figured ye'd won when I heard something huge being broken to pieces."

"Smart call." Heranes stepped over and ripped the crude metal bars off the cave in one go. "Hello, ladies. I'm here to rescue you from your freaky and probably incesty captors."

A half dozen pale women came from inside, looking wide-eyed at their savior. All of them had skin and hair as white as winter moons, and delicate features apart from round and massive breasts. They were all topless, and wore dirtied loincloths that seemed commonplace for slave women. They stared and made occasional soft cooing noises, but didn't speak.

Heranes looked back as Deska and indicated towards them with her eyes. "They're shy. I get that a lot. Between the rescue and a body like this, even some dudes don't know what to do with me."

"Err, boss?" Deska urged, drawing her sword as one of the "cattle" bared her teeth and jumped on Heranes' back.

"Oh son of a Cerberus!" Heranes cursed, grabbing at the busty slave. The dairy woman bit into her the muscle between her shoulder and neck, but didn't quite manage to break her godly skin. It still hurt enough to get an angry scream from Heranes. Deska stepped in and thumped the hilt of her heavy sword on the slave's temple, knocking her limp beside her.

"Easy with the sword," Heranes warned as she rubbed the bite marks on her shoulder. "We need them alive for the mission."

Deska raised her scimitar at the advancing cattle. "I can sword fight and not kill someone. I didn't kill ye, if ya remember."

Heranes scoffed. "Not for lack of trying. You didn't kill me because you suck. Just every drop of blood you take from them, I take twice from you. Every head you cut off, I cut off two of yours."

"Sounds tough, but fair," Deska shrugged. The cannibalistic cattle pounced at them Heranes catching two by their big chests and slamming them into the ground. Deska whirled past two of the grabbing milk maids, kicking the legs out from under one as she passed. Deska thrust the huge blade at the farthest one, making her flinch as it buried itself in the stone next to her face. The milk maid opened her eyes just before Deska socked her in the jaw, making her head shoot to one side and bounce off the flat of her blade with a clang before falling to the ground.

Heranes held the two she'd thrown to the ground by the neck, squeezing as they started to choke out. This didn't keep another slavegirl from coming for her, so she stood back up, still gripping the cannibal wet nurses. The milkmaid bit into Heranes' arm, savagely trying to tear out a piece of flesh but barely drawing blood from her tough muscle. Heranes gave a quick ram of her elbow into the attacker's neck, knocking her off before she swung her fellow slave like an elaborate boxing glove. The choking cattle's breasts were bashed against her partner's head, knocking her out just before the two women in her grasp passed out.

"I've heard of foxy boxing, but that was kind of fun," Heranes grinned as she tossed them down to the ground. Deska had the last one by the hair and on her knees, the albino captive snapping her teeth at anything she set her eyes on.

"What ye want me t'do with this one?" she grunted, reining in the ambushing slave by the shaggy white hair.

Heranes stepped up and punched her in the face, dropping the slave limp like a rag doll in Deska's grip. "That so hard?" she asked, tossing out her hands.

"Well you're the one settin' this no-killin' rule on me. They were lookin' downright eager to do the same to us."

"It's part of the job. Besides, they're crazy cave people. Didn't seem like the godly thing to do just cuz they didn't know better."

"Oh, aye," Deska chuckled. "The godly thing to do would be to turn yeself into a spider and fuck a wench, then?"

"Maybe not when I'm a god. Goddess. Whatever," Heranes grumbled, looking about the camp and gathering whatever rope and chain she could find.

"Aye now? Well what'll ye be doing once you're up there on Olympus, eh? What's your big plans from up on high?"

Heranes squeezes two pieces of chain until they were forced to bend around each other into one. "I'm going to punch Hercules in the face, kick Zeus in the dick, and walk out of there giving the double deuce." Heranes held the chain in both hands as she gave Deska the finger with both hands.

Deska pondered her for a moment, then started tying some of the rope together to help. "A temple with a statue of that on the front... that's somethin' I could get behind worshippin'."

"Well, boss, I got you your cattle." Heranes entered the throne room, stooped over with the steel cage of busty women over her back. She slammed it down as they each gave their own startled little squeaking noises.

"Believe me, it was a pleasure just to watch them jiggle all the way back," Deska smiled. "And then you'll be needin' these." She tugged on a length of chain, the three sisters following and bound to it. "Feels good to be on the other end of a chain again."

"Excellent!" the king smiled greedily, eying up the women. "But what do I need the sisters for?"

"Well they're the ones who know how to take care of them, now ain't they?" Deska explained, tugging on the chain. The sisters eyed the king and smiled.

"Six gifts from Hades. At every sunrise, the cattle must be fed human flesh," Aestas chimed in her singsong voice.

"A belly full each every day. Then their milk will keep your age another year," Cadent sang in her agreement.

"But even then, the milk will not grant thee life unless you have tasted the heart of thy own mother," added Hiems.

King Palthas frowned in disappointment. Even if he were so cold-hearted, his mother was long dead. Even then, it would keep him old, not make him young. The sisters smiled widely at him. The milkmaids stirred curiously in their cage. Heranes picked something out of her ear indifferently.

"They're real beauties though, ain't they?" Deska offered. She reached a finger through the bars, one of the cattle leaning in and staring at it before snapping her teeth at it. Deska pulled it back just in time. "Just so long as you mind the teeth."

Palthas grunted and waved a hand dismissively. Cannibals wouldn't even suitable as servants, let alone concubines. "Useless. Do with them what you will."

Heranes folded her arms. "And...? The job was to bring you the cattle, not make you immortal."

"And you have two tasks complete," Palthas conceded. "I'll have another feat for you come the sunrise."

Heranes turned and picked up the cage to leave. Deska followed suit with her chain full of immortal sisters. ""Take your time. I like to sleep to noon when I can."

That night, the two warriors celebrated. Two deeds done without worse than a few scratches and a bit of embarrassment. "And each time I got to get a little spit in that old creep's eye," Heranes boasted, finishing another mug. She dunked it back into a barrel of mead, telling the barmaid to leave the whole of it there for her and her guests. The sisters Geryon sat at the table with her, drinking quietly. Their cage full of cattle was rested outside, confident that no one had the strength or the sheer amount of fingers to spare to take them.

"Such cunning," chuckled Cadent.

"Such mercy," Hiems added.

"Such strength," Aestas praised. "We appreciate you sparing our long-lived lives, my lady Heranes."

"Well first off, I know how hard it is killing an immortal," Heranes excused, cutting herself off with a short burp. "Second, I'm not chopping up people just for immortality when I'm getting that anyway in a couple days. Third, anyone who goes up a mountain where cannibal slavers live probably deserves whatever they get."

"Yes, perhaps," Aestas mused.

"But we have had long lives, and never tasted defeat," added Hiems.

"We think it may be best to... retire, as it were," Cadent concluded.

"Getting out of the immortal cannibal business, are ye? Sounds like it would get boring after a while," Deska admitted with another long pull of her own drink. "What about your beasties?"

"Let them run."

"Let them hunt."

"No need for milk. Let them roam their mountains free. They'll know what to do."

Heranes looked out the window at the doe-eyed beauties, staring innocently at everything around them until it came into biting range. They certainly couldn't be worked into human society, and she doubted the underworld would be any better for them, if that was indeed where they were from. Maybe they'd even stop eating people if they were left alone in the wilderness... or maybe they'd get bored and eat each other. Either way, it seemed as just a decision as she could come up with.

"But we have wondered..."

"We sisters Geryon... we owe Heranes our lives."

"We thank her mercy. If ever you should need a favor repaid..."

Heranes seemed to ignore them and lifted the mead barrel. She drank the last from the bottom, getting some cheers from the bar's patrons in the process. "Well," she grunted as she set the empty barrel back down. "I managed to screw that dick Palthas out of an orgy tonight." The red-faced heroine patted one of the sisters firmly on the bottom (her blurry vision had lost track of which one). "I might as well rub his nose in it with one of my own, eh? I really should get used to banging immortals anyway."

"We had meant council..."

"Or aid upon the battlefield..."

"...but it's been so long since the touch of one who's not a sister. So where did you say you were sleeping?"

Deska threw up her hands in surrender. "Nope. Too rich for my blood. You enjoy your psychic sister foursome. I'm going to go drink everyone here under a table who's NOT an immortal."

In the early noon time, Heranes shooed out the sisters to return their former prisoners, saying they'd return to the kingdom later. Deska was waiting for her by the palace, the guards especially alert around the technical war-criminal. The former pirate waved to her. "How's your headache?" Deska smiled.

"What headache?"

"Ye drank most of a barrel of mead."

"Yea. I was celebrating." Heranes cracked her neck a bit. "I slept kind of funny, I guess, but that's because it was on top of three hot immortal bitches."

Deska sighed. "I'm startin' to hate this godly might shite."

"Yea, it's awesome. So what do you think King Shriveldick's got for us today? Helping old ladies across the street, or chasing an especially big spider out of his bathroom?"

Deska snickered as she walked up the steps to the throne room with her. "P'raps we're fetching a wee girl's lost kitten that's run away."

"I want a lioness."

Deska raised her eyebrow and popped a flask out from her freckled cleavage, taking a sip. "Well, I was close..."

"Like, any lion?" Heranes asked with a raised eyebrow. "Because the colesium's practically giving them away."

"Not just any lion. The pet lioness of Queen Onua," King Palthas specified.

"Now, you say 'queen," Heranes added warily. "Are we talking actual royalty, or copycat royalty like Deska here?"

"Hey!"

"Oh level with me, Des. It was pretty tacky."

"Wasn't my idea in the first place..."

The king cleared his dusty throat. "The lioness is a sacred figure of the Mebuti tribe, an ancient race of nomads in the dark southern continent. Their tribe is known for its warrior women, and Queen Onua is their highest and most powerful queen. You will bring me her sacred lioness, the one she calls Nestei."

"Why do you want a lion? Rather, why do you want THAT lion?" Heranes pressed.

"Not that it's important, but it's a political maneuver. Make yourselves look strong while others look weak."

"Well lucky you, Pal," Heranes said, flexing as she pointed at him. "Because that's kind of my specialty. Now let's start walking, Des."

"Walking where?"

"Walking where now, your highness?"

"The planes of Africa. The Mebuti do not stay in one place for long, but I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Heranes gestured towards the king. "See? Africa. We walk to Africa."

Deska pondered something a moment as she took another drink. "Africa's over an ocean, boss. Last I checked."

"Really? Huh. Well, then we walk to a boat."

Trial 3: obtain the sacred lioness of Queen Onua

The trip was a total of three days by boat. King Palthas' trade ship was prepared for over a week in either direction, but that was before Heranes offered to row. It wasn't their first idea on a 50-man trade ship, but she helped them make this record time. Soon she got bored and decided to eat, and sat back on the deck beside Deska. The bandit queen was enjoying her rum and a fresh pear.

"I'll give this to ya," Deska praised Heranes, sliding her a basket of fruit. "Ya couldn't normally eat these once yer this far out to sea. It all goes bad too quickly."

The sweating Heranes grunted and took the apple out, taking a bit bite.

"Well what's got ye in such a fit?" Deska pried, waggling her arm at her. "I'm the one with the cursed jewelry ye stuck on me."

"It was that or they stabbed you on the spot," Heranes grumbled.

"Only cuz ye told 'em I'd escape again! But come on. What's eatin' ye?"

"Just bored," she sighed, leaning back on the edge of the ship. "Boats are too big and slow. Then there's wind and weather and stupid stuff like that. I'd just run or jump the way there, but I'd just keep sinking."

"Ain't ye mum some great big goddess up there? Have her ask Poseidon for a bit of favor and we'll be there in no time."

"No help," Heranes grunted. "If a god proves I'm worthy of being a god, what good is that?"

"A free ride. What's wrong with that?"

"Never mind. Gods are dumb and fickle anyway. They change their minds and forget things all the time." Heranes chucked half of her apple over the edge of the boat and grabbed an orange instead.

Deska eyed her up, then pushed herself up by her sheathed scimitar. The Irish bandit stepped up to the nearest sailor and shoved him. "Oi! You! Give us yer sword."

"What? Why?" asked the confused sailor.

"Cuz the great bloody hero says so. Give it here!" She pulled it from his belt and shook her head. "Fuckin' Greeks, cannae speak a word'a common Latin wicha." She shoved the sheathed longsword out at Heranes. "Here."

"What for?" Heranes asked, eying it warily.

"Ye said you were bored, and ya said ye couldn't fence. I can show ye."

Heranes snorted, but smiled. "I don't need a sword."

"It mighta stopped ye from gettin' stabbed last time."

Heranes frowned. "You don't know that," she grumbled defensively.

"Can't hurt to find out. My girls sure didn't feel like comin' at ye with fists and rocks, and neither did those three old harpies."

Heranes groaned, but sat up. So whenever she wasn't sleeping, rowing, or eating, she was studying with the bandit queen on how to handle a sword.

The rest of the trip went fairly smoothly. They arrived at the shores of Africa, where Heranes was quick to leap off the boat and take off running. Deska had to quickly obtain a horse just to catch up with her ("I'll pay it back! Honest! Talk to that captain fellah!"). Heranes was a passable tracker, but for such a hot open space, the savannah seemed to have a lot of life out there. By their first afternoon there, Heranes had outrun and broken the neck of an gazelle. Deska put together a quick campfire to cook it while they rested and considered their course.

"So any idea where we are, Des?" Heranes asked, poking at the roasting meat with the sword she'd kept (the Greek sailor didn't have the guts to ask her for it back).

"South," Deska confirmed.

"Just 'South?"

"You ran in a straight line all day. Not sure what you expect me to say."

"I dunno. Are we close?"

"We got footprints, but they're so jumbled together, old and new. Could be the queen, could be random hunters." She produced a wooden pipe and lit some tobacco in it as she looked up at the glaring Heranes. "What? I was a bloody Irish pirate. Why would I know about the African inlands?"

There was a rustling in the high grass nearby. Deska quickly took up her large sword and Heranes stood up, lifting up the log she was sitting on like a club. Several strong, dark-skinned huntresses emerged wearing simple clothes, even more primitive than the women's. Whether it was out of fashion, practicality, or resources, Heranes quietly noted that she thought it looked decent on them. Especially with warrior bodies like that.

The trio of women looked them over warily, then at the fire. "What?" Heranes asked, tossing down the log. "It's deer."

"Gazelle," Deska corrected.

"It's Africa deer," Heranes corrected again. She looked at it and picked up a shank of the beast and offered it out to them. "You ladies want some?"

One of the women stepped forward and pointed an axe of stone and wood at the stola-clad Greek, speaking in a language she didn't understand. Heranes looked down at the axe casually, staying still as she looked to Deska.

"Deska, you speak a lick of their language? Because I don't like how she's saying it."

"Wee bits and pieces, from traders," Deska nodded. "Somethin' about hunting on their lands."

"Good enough for me." Heranes swung the severed gazelle leg to bash the woman across the face, making her spin almost completely around from the meaty blow. Heranes braced a sandaled foot on the side of her head and took her sword from the ground, not bothering to take it out of the sheathe. The Greek used it to start paddling the dark-skinned woman's ass loud enough for her comrades to flinch and step back. The local warrior shrieked for mercy, kicking and clawing at the dusty ground.

After a while of this, Heranes paused and gestured the sheathed weapon towards Deska. "Hey, if you speak their language... can you tell them we come in peace? And where to find Queen whatzit... Onua?"

Deska started speaking with their attackers, which kept Heranes amused even if she wasn't following the conversation. It was just amusing to hear Deska wild Irish-Greek accent trying to manage the Africans' native language. Deska eventually urged her to release their warrior from under her foot, stomp out the fire, and pack up their meat. The Mebuti customs were apparently rather uptight about letting others hunt in their territory, even if it was constantly changing with their nomadic lifestyle. The outsiders hunting there was against their policy, but by Heranes technically hunting it FOR them to then serve to their guests, it was all back on the level.

So that's how they ended up sitting among the Mebuti. Only one male, an older sort, seemed to be among them, and he was kept well away from the two newcomers. Otherwise, they were treated with surprising hospitality. Deska traded a bit of their supplies to return the favor of their small feast. It consisted almost entirely of meat, but neither woman complained. They were far too distracted by the lions walking around the place.

Heranes gathered that the tribe lived alongside a pack of lions of various ages and genders. The women pet and fed the lions, and would take and cook prey that they brought in. Even their children ran around playing with the cubs. Heranes found it pretty odd, but a better option than eating each other. "Lucky I didn't hunt for lion then," Heranes muttered to Deska. "Figure out which of them is Nestei?"

The locals seemed to eye her at the mention of the name. "Ease off the sacred thing, aright?" Deska urged back. "I ask about the lions, and they use a lot of words I don't know. It must mean they're a big deal out here."

"Well, yea. That's kind of why we want it. The king wants it because he's a tool who wants everything great and fancy. He'd ask me to steal Zeus' thunder if he didn't have to keep it within mortal limits." Heranes stood up, getting everyone's attention (particularly the warrior she had spanked earlier). "Hey! Queen Onua! Nestei! Where are they!?" she demanded.

Deska stayed laying back with her dish of zebra, shrugging at the other warriors to indicate she didn't understand her and wasn't with her.

One woman did step forward; a tall and broad woman with intensely dark skin; the kind Heranes would expect to protect a queen rather than be one. Taller than Heranes by a few inches, and broader but not as thickly built. She wore a white fur robe over a leopard-skin top and loincloth. She had what appeared to be a sword at her hip, but a closer look showed Heranes that it was in fact a giant fang with a bit of old leather wrapped its base around as a handle. Her hair was done into numerous elaborate braids and dreads, and one of the larger lionesses stepped dutifully into place beside her.

"Why do you ask about my Nestei, visitor?" she asked in a calm, low voice.

Heranes gestured a hand at the woman in delight. "Hey, you speak our language! Great. You must be the queen."

"I am Onua, the lost queen of the wandering tribes of the Southern lands."

Heranes stared at her for a moment. "So yes? Okay. Well I'm Heranes, no titles yet, but you might have heard about how much ass I kicked. As far as why... honestly, it's because I was told to. Old guy said it was politics." Onua gave her a puzzled look. "It's a word that means king and queen stuff. Look, I just can't leave without that lion."

Onua scowled grimly back at the smiling heroine. "Nestei is the follower of the queen of my people. She has been by my side since I earned her by trial of combat. She will not part from my side, no more than I would give her up." Heranes just smiled wider, getting a puzzled look from the stern woman. "What is it?"

"Sorry, but you said trial by combat..."

Heranes tossed aside her belt, pulling off her stola with it. The naked demi-goddess was a sight to see in the warm night’s moonlight. Divine blood had given her the ever-soft curves of a woman merged with the large and taut muscles of a hero. Dark red hairs marked the opening between her strong legs, and her crimson curls bounced just past her broad shoulders. "Deska, you're staring," Heranes pointed out with a smirk. "Either buy something or stop window-shopping."

Deska blinked and shook her head. "Sorry. Vision of the heavens and all that."

"Yea, yea, you've got a nice rack too," Heranes said dismissively. She looked across the arena towards her opponent. The queen was similarly nude, a wild and pitch-black bush growing from the base of her abs to her nether lips. Even her pubic hair had a few small braids tied into it. Nestei waited patiently off to one side of the battlefield as one of the Mebuti people tossed forward a torch.

The queen of the Mebuti was not one chosen by bloodlines or executive decisions, and certainly not by vote. A queen could only be decided by combat in what Deska translated as "the mouth of fire." They used one of their old hunting pits nearby, normally covered up to trap wild game. A huge log was rolled out over it, about a foot wide and thirty feet across the pit itself. There were some sharpened sticks acting as spikes for the prey that fell inside, but for this ritual, the base of the pit was covered in dry grass that was then lit aflame. Heranes wasn't sure how long the spikes would last against the blazing fire, but then again, pointy sticks were easy enough to replace, even out here.

As the fire began to lap at the log, Queen Onua stepped out onto the thick wood. One of her people handed her the bladed fang she'd had before, the only item on her person whatsoever. Deska tossed Heranes her cutlass as she stepped out onto the log herself. Heranes had to shift her weight a bit, and clearly more so than her opponent had to bother with the balancing act.

"So... you are fireproof, ain't ye?" Deska pried.

"You know, I'm not sure," Heranes admitted. "I never actually set myself on fire. Could be fun to find out, though."

"Yea, fun's the word," Deska grumbled, taking a big step back before her bushy hair started to sizzle.

"I will burn the blasphemy from your soul, outsider," Onua called to her, swiping her blade neatly through the air.

"Gods can't blaspheme, you dumbass bitch," Heranes smirked back, whipping her sword so that the sheathe flew off into the dirt outside the arena. Weapons, fire, and a battlefield she wasn't used to... this one might actually be a challenge.

Heranes quickly noted Onua's footwork. It wasn't like Deska's when she'd given her the crash course in swordplay, since her soles and ankles tilted to curve with the log, almost grasping it from either side between steps. The queen struck out with her fang, Heranes deflecting it away with a quick backhand swing of her sword. She parried another strike before she swung it heavily at the African royalty, but she bounded nimbly back, eyes on Heranes as if there was no flaming pit of spikes below her.

"Ugh, it's like watchin' a butcher," Deska groaned. "Light strokes, ye great fencin' ox! Let the blade do the work!"

"Shut up, Des!" Heranes called back, having to pause her attack to brace her legs on the narrow platform. "Maybe if you knew what you were doing you'd still have an eye!"

"I told you, that was from an infection!"

"I think you have enough distractions, lion thief." Onua lunged in with a sudden jab of her blade. Heranes tilted to one side, barely avoiding taking a fang through the heart. The rules weren't especially clear on how you won, but dying was good enough an excuse. Heranes twisted and slammed her blade hard enough against Onua’s to rattle her hand and knock her off balance at last, but the warrior queen spun with the blow and returned facing forward in a fluid gesture. She slashed the fang for Heranes' face, but the heroine caught the crude weapon by grasping its flat sides in between her fingers.

"Ha!" Heranes delivered a punch to the queen's abs, one that rattled even the burly native. She refused to let go of the blade, and kicked into the side of Heranes' knee. It only staggered her a bit, but that was all it took in their precarious position. Heranes clumsily released the blade and had to drop to the log, straddling it as she grabbed on for balance. Onua swept her reclaimed blade, knocking the cutlass out of Heranes' loose grasp. She briefly watched it fall and be swallowed by the fire.

"Well shit," Heranes sighed. She pushed back on the log with both hands, sliding a few inches back. It narrowly avoided Onua from taking the tip of her nose with her makeshift machete, which buried into the dense wood instead. Heranes smiled a bit, between dodging the blow and the pleasant little tickle of sliding her privates over the hard, smooth wood. Onua momentarily abandoned her fang sword to step forward and gracefully kick Heranes in the breast. She went toppling over the side, completely leaving the log as the crowd of women gasped or cheered.

Heranes twisted as she fell and slammed her hand into the side of the long. Her powerful fingers punched right into the bark, immediately forming a crude handhold for herself. The flames still warmed and stung at her legs, confirming their suspicions that she probably was not completely immune to fire. She hung by one arm, bulging with effort to support her own weight before she slammed her other hand into the log as well, starting to climb back up.

However, Onua had reclaimed her giant fang and swung it at Heranes' fingers. She yelped and pulled the hand back out, letting the blade hit wood instead of flesh. She dipped down another inch from her recoiling gesture, and hissing through her grit teeth as the flames were starting to burn at her soles. Onua raised her weapon again to finish her, but instead of climbing, Heranes grunted and pulled down on the log.

The log’s position was too firmly rooted beyond the pit itself to fall into the fire, but it could roll. Her impressive might tumbled the log towards one side, and Onua gasped as she seemed to run in place just to stay on top. Heranes simply rode the momentum she'd created with her freakish feat of strength, landing back on top. Onua was surprised enough that she could charge like a bull, slamming into the queen. She flew back, bounced off the log on her back, and started to fall into the fiery pit.

Heranes smirked with confidence, but she saw Onua grab and pull at the strip of leather around the handle of her blade. She threw it to one side of the log just as she fell, and caught the other end as she reached the bottom of the log. With impressive grace, she wrapped the tips together and swung back around like a makeshift swing, whirling back onto the log as well. Her grip on the blade showed some red running down her palms, showing its sharpness even beneath the handle.

"For an outsider, you impress me," Onua grinned widely. "But you are not worthy of a lioness."

"You realize how dumb that sounds out of context, don't you?" Heranes grunted back, raising her fists since she was still missing a sword.

"Perhaps your temper is not the best after being so close to being roasted alive."

"Nah," Heranes smirked, dusting off her naked legs casually. "I was meaning to shave them anyway." She threw a few punches at the African warrior, but she dodged or blocked them as they came. She swept her blade across the air between them, Heranes wincing as it sliced a thin line across one of her breasts. The blood trickled down and ran around her hard nipple, but it wasn't enough to distract her from her opponent. Onua shouted and swung her fang down overhead, but Heranes leapt back so that the blade sank into the log instead. Heranes went to all fours and twisted the log, hopping so that the log rolled over without her. With the sword still stuck in the bark, it was now left on its bottom and well out of Onua's reach.

Onua still charged at her, and while Heranes caught her wrist as she rose to her knee, Onua nimbly dodged past her around the narrow log. She yanked on the strap of leather she had used to hold her fang, pulling it back against Heranes' throat and starting to choke her with it.

"Sit... still! It's like I'm fighting a fucking squirrel," Heranes grunted, pulling at the strap. Even with her strength, the angle was incredibly hard to resist.

"Get your head in the game, lass, or she'll put yer arse in the fire!" Deska shouted at her angrily. "Focus already!"

As Onua leaned into her choke, Heranes felt the pressure of the queen's abs and the tickle of her wild bush against her back. Considering her slip along the log and Deska's demands for focus, she formed a new strategy. Onua had far too much balance and control to take her off the log by any simple means. She'd have to try for the long con.

Heranes turned her arm back and started to stuff two of her fingers up between Onua's legs. The queen gasped and froze, the grip on her choke instantly loosening. Rather than attack, Heranes simply added a third digit and started to thrust them inside. The heat apparently did nothing to dry up the queen, as Heranes stroked her fingers inside her damp folds.

"Not much action up there on the throne, now is there?" Heranes smirked. She decided to shut her mouth, but only in the sense that she turned her head and started to suck on Onua's breast. Her lips and tongue played with her firm, dark nipple while her thumb sought and pressed down on her clitoris.

The onlooking women muttered in surprise as Onua finally tore herself away from the heroine, her breathing heavier than it was a moment ago. "What are you doing?" she demanded, pointing accusingly at Heranes.

The Greek grinned back at her. "Just having some fun. No need to take it so seriously, after all." Onua frowned and rubbed her crotch, but she moved back in on Heranes. She threw a kick at the rising goddess' side, but she caught her by the ankle. While Onua was ready for her to try to throw her off the side, Heranes pulled her closer and mashed her breasts into hers. Onus looked shocked as Heranes kissed her full on the mouth, and used her free hand to reach down and finger her forcefully opened legs. The onlookers started to whistle and cheer, Onua squirming to escape the embrace.

When Onua finally managed to pull free, Heranes gave her a quick shove. The queen kept her footing as she staggered back, but clearly with less natural grace to it than she had earlier. She lashed out with the leather strap like a whip, but Heranes raised her arm to block it. The strip wrapped around her thick forearm, and Heranes pulled on it. Onua moved with the pull to elbow Heranes in the face, but the Greek kept her footing and reached for the queen's leg. Onua raised her leg over her grabbing arm, only for Heranes to pull her arm straight upward. The strap still around her wrist was pulled tightly up into Onua's crotch, getting a high gasp out of the warrior queen. She fell to her knees to keep either leg from falling off the edge, and Heranes stepped around behind her.

"Getting a little hot in here, isn't it?" Heranes grinned, starting to pull back and forth on the strap. Onua wailed and moaned on her knees as it rubbed over her tender crotch, the African warrior shaking her head wildly. "Stop! Stop, don't!" she pleaded in a husky, desperate voice coated with lust.

"I'm not hearing a surrender," Heranes chimed brightly, giving a sharp twitch of her wrist. Onua gave a shrill cry as the sound of the leather whipping against her pussy sounded across the savannah. She shook her head again, biting her lip and grabbing onto the log just to stay on. Heranes braced her foot against the queen's toned ass, balancing herself off of it and the tightly pulled tether. Heranes ran her toes down her bottom and finally inserted them into the African's womanhood, pumping her big toe firmly against her clitoris.

Onua screamed like she had been stabbed, but the penetration had been of another sort. She spasmed violently, and only stayed on the log and out of the fire due to her tensing grip on the platform. Even with the intense heat rising around them, Heranes could feel the hot cum squirting out of the queen's loins and onto her foot, splashing quietly over the log. Onua's legs shivered before they finally kicked back at Heranes.

The demigoddess stepped back casually, leaning on her bare thighs readily. "Nice and refreshed?" she offered cheerily. "I know nothing quite gets me up in the morning quite like a bit of slit-flicking."

Onua growled angrily and rose to her feet, her legs clearly still a little shaky. "Outsider... mezta froo!"

"Pretty much means whore!" Deska called over the pits, the grin back on her face.

"Kinda figured!" Heranes called back as Onua charged for her again. Her balance and pace was off, so Heranes easily blocked or dodged whatever came at her. Onua grabbed for Heranes' hair, but she caught Onua by the shoulder and shoved back and down. Onua's feet stumbled to recover, but they hit one last pitfall she hadn't foreseen. Onua's countless sessions practicing on the log had never factored in the slick puddle of cum she had left behind.

Onua's heel slipped on the sexual mess and she screamed, falling out of control off of the log. The flames crackled around her, and she felt herself hit one of the pit spikes. It left a gash in her side, but didn't stick as the burnt stick snapped and let her drop. She cringed as people shouted above her, feeling the ashes and flames alike scorch the skin of her soles. The smell of smoke and burning hair hit her quickly and seemed to suck the air from her lungs. She cursed quietly before she started to whisper praises for her ancestors and the great lioness above, only to be interrupted by a huge crashing noise. She looked up to see the log had been kicked off of its position, and was being held down to her by Heranes as easily as a twig. Onua didn't second-guess the gesture and hurried up the log.

Onua was soon laid out on a fur, letting her cough the smoke out of her lungs. The big bloody wound in her side would heal as well as the burns, but it was clear they would become terrible scars on her before long. Heranes pulled her clothes back on, and while she tugged on her sandals, the big lioness padded over to her and rubbed its head against her arm. Nestei was hers now.

"Do not worry," Onua wheezed as she was settled enough to speak. "Scars are marks of honor to the Mabuti."

"Who said I was worried?" Heranes dismissed, petting the lioness' head. "Hey, if I'm keeping this, what's this thing eat, anyway?"

"Whatever she pleases," Onus said with a raspy chuckle. "She will always take care of herself. She is a gift from the... OUR gods."

"Sounds fitting. Who's a good kitty?!" Heranes ruffled the fur under its chin, the lioness tilting its head up to accept the petting before biting down on her hand. It was like a normal housecat, give or take 300 pounds. "Yes, you ARE a good kitty!" Heranes laughed, prying Nestei's jaws back open with her other hand.

"So what's this mean for you?" Deska asked as she sat beside the wounded queen. Deska picked up one of the gourds beside their medicine woman, sniffed its contents, then shrugged and took a drink.

"I am dishonored. I cannot lead my tribe when I am without my lioness. I will be given time to heal, and then be banished to the wilderness to live or die alone." Onus sighed this out almost wistfully, either weary from the pain or perhaps just accepting of her fate with her honorable nature.

Heranes took a bucket of water from a helpful tribeswoman and splashed it into her face, starting to wipe off the last of the soot and ash from her skin. "So... what made Nestei so special anyway?" she pried.

Onua spoke up again, turning her head towards the Greek heroine. "She was not born to this tribe. Many of the lions were born here, but Nestei was a ranoo. A masterless beast. She came to the tribe of her own accord from the outside, and was seen as a sign given by our gods."

Heranes considered this a moment, then gestured at Deska. "Hey, Des."

"Would ye please stop callin' me that?"

"No. Can you get me a sandwich or something?"

"Why?"

"I'm gonna be a minute, that's why. So shake a leg already." Deska sighed and went off, coming back with a crude plate of leftover meat. "Thanks." Heranes picked a few slices up with her bare hands before she ran off into the savannah, with Nestei faithfully sprinting after her.

Deska watched her go quizzically before pointing after her. "Did... did she just ditch me? Did that fuckin' tart just up and leave me here? I swear on me bastard of a da', if I get left in another bloody foreign country, I'm gonna turn her arse..."

Deska only had to ramble for a minute or two before the pounding footsteps were heard coming back. Heranes slid to a stop at the edge of the camp, with three lions slung over her shoulders (one male, two female). She tossed them onto the ground in front of Onua, only for them to snarl and stand back up, apparently VERY much still alive.

Heranes suddenly bitchslapped the male across the face. "HEY!" she shouted louder than it could roar, stunning the creature into silence. "You shut your hole!" It did. Heranes pointed down at the burned queen at her feet. "You see her? You work for her now. This tribe? That's your tribe. And if any of you so much as think about eating them or turning on them..."

Heranes suddenly turned and kneed one of the lioness' in the jaw, knocking it out cold on the ground. The remaining lions stared at the demigoddess, and while she glared at the two unshaken, Onua could swear that she saw Nestei smiling in her own subtle body language. The two lions sat down quietly after a moment and lowered their heads in shame.

"Damn straight!" Heranes sniffed and turned to Onua. "Hey, I think you're a queen again."

Onua smiled slowly. "Excuse me, outsider?"

"A goddess just brought you wild lions. They're your problem now, because I only need the one. That makes you chief again, right? Or queen. Whatever. Technicalities, right?"

Onua laughed harder than she thought was possible at the moment, and the pain in her side made her almost regret it. She spoke something quickly to her tribeswomen, who laughed at whatever she said. They seemed to walk off with a casual air about them that had Heranes feeling like she had succeeded at finding a loophole. One soot-stained woman approached Heranes, handing her the freshly-repaired fang that Onua had been wielding in their fight.

Heranes picked it up by the fresh leather, weighing it in her grasp. "Really?" she asked, raising her eyebrows towards Onua.

"I cost you a sword in that fight, after all," the queen replied with a nod. "It is the least I can do."

"Well thanks. I like it. Just my style; big and brutal. I just didn't think I'd leave this with a queen's only sword and a holy lion."

Onua snorted a bit, and when Heranes looked at her, she spoke in her native tongue again. An elder woman approached her and handed the queen another fang sabre that looked just like it. "The beast had more than one tooth," she explained.

"Wow. Okay, yea, that makes sense. Well still, your highness... fuck you for stabbing me." Heranes gave her the finger and nodded to Deska. "Come on. Boat leaves in a few hours."

"As much as I appreciate your... 'directness,' Lady Heranes, your catch is pissing on the royal rug."

Heranes laughed as she turned to watch Nestei do her business. "Yea she'll do that. Holy lions are a pretty entitled bunch, I hear. So that's three, yea?"

King Palthas nodded as he leaned back in his throne. "So, how did Queen Onua take it?"

"Pretty good, for a woman who lost her lion and almost caught on fire." King Palthas smiled at the response. "But I replaced it. The lion, I mean. Not her skin or anything, cuz that would be gross."

Palthas frowned again at this. He had been expecting Onua to be dethroned by this dishonor. She had been very resistant to trading with his kingdom, and he had counted on putting someone new in power to make things easier on him. He grunted and waved a hand. "Very well. Put it in the coliseum."

"Oh great, she'll love that!" Heranes actually smiled, hugging the beast around the neck. "She's a fighter. We wrestled half the way back home. Almost got me once or twice."

"Yes, well you can visit it as much as you like, while she lasts," King Palthas dismissed. "In the meantime, I have another quest for you."

"Good. You're starting to get to the good ones." Heranes scratched at her cleavage. "Last one actually slashed me in the boob."

"Well for your next task, you'll be bringing the princess Eiko back to the kingdom of Tartes. She is due for a wedding with my youngest brother."

"Runaway bride, huh? Talk her out of her cold feet and drag her into the halls? Sounds easy enough."

"For most. But Lady Eiko is a princess from a far off and reclusive kingdom. Her people are strong and quick. We have sent men on horseback to catch them, and even they have been outrun."

"And why are they running?" Heranes pried, but the king shrugged.

"They couldn't catch her to ask, and I didn't wonder myself. Just bring her back to the ceremony, no matter how far you have to chase her."

"Okay, whatever," Heranes yawned before she knelt down and cupped Nestei by the cheeks. "You be a good girl now, you hear?" she cooed in baby talk. "Don't let those nasty guards push you around, and you eat lots and lots of criminals in the arena, okay?"

Nestei chewed lazily on her hand. "That's a good girl! Deska! Get her packed up and let's go!"

"I don't care how many times you ask, I am not goin' near that fucker..."

Trial 4: reclaim Princess Eiko and return her to her wedding

Deska was on horseback again just to keep pace with Heranes. She was riding side-saddle in her armored skirt while the demigoddess jogged beside her, the new fang of a sword on her hip.

"You know, I could have just put a saddle on Nestei," she teased at the bandit. "She looked pretty quick."

"Nae, I'll be stayin' on the one that won't eat me, thanks." They had passed the kingdom of Tartes, and were on the trail of their royal quarry.

"If you say so. So, what's your plan for this?"

"You dinnae have a plan?" Deska asked with a furrowing of her brow.

"I do. I just want to know how you'd do it."

"Bows probably best," Deska mused. "Bows and surprise. If she's that fast, then best not to give her the idea to run in the first place."

"Yea, maybe." Heranes nodded up towards the treeline further up the valley. "They kept losing track of her here, so she's probably still around there."

"So we stealth it?" Deska asked.

"Nah, it would take forever to find her that way. Let's just go faster."

"Faster than horseback?"

Heranes started to pump her legs harder, and started to leave Deska in her dust. It took some actual effort from her to keep up this speed, so she couldn't keep it up forever, but a short hunt seemed doable.

Heranes wasn't exactly blessed with godly senses to go with her strength and speed, but given long enough, she'd knocked over enough trees and hurdled over startled elk before she found the small improvised campsite. The three figures were already on their feet by the time Heranes' eyes found them. Two were clearly foreign, clad in tight-fitting silk robes that she wouldn't have recognized as being called kimonos. They wore socks with ornate sandals, and both had long, straight black hair and eyes narrower than anyone she'd met before.

The third was both stranger and more familiar to Heranes, very clearly a centaur. The woman had the lower body of a large black horse, forming her four legs. Her upper body was that of a blonde, human woman, entirely nude except for the quiver and bow slung around her back. The centaurs were well known in their parts of Greece as barbarians, drunks, thieves, and raiders.

Heranes also knew that they made the absolute best wine, and threw the best parties.

Heranes recognized the young woman in the green kimono as fitting the description she'd gotten for Princess Eiko. She touched down and ran for her, but the centaur was quick to start firing off arrows at her. Heranes ducked to let a pair of them bury into a tree behind her, and grabbed for the princess. The taller Asian stepped into her path, striking out with her palms and feet. She certainly didn't hit any harder than Heranes, and probably didn't weigh half as much as she did, but it still send her body reeling. The palm connected just right with her breast, sending her teetering to one side. The kick swept her leg out, and Heranes was quick to throw her hand out to catch herself. The bodyguard kicked into her wrist expectantly, sending her toppling into the dirt.

But even all of this wasn't enough to stop the demigoddess. She rolled as her shoulder hit the ground and grabbed for the princess, but Eiko gave a sweep of her hand at the air between them. A number of smoke bombs hit the ground, leaving Heranes to very suddenly learn what a smoke bomb was. She coughed and stopped in her tracks, mortal enough to have to breathe as the women were off like a shot. "Oh that is BULLSHIT!" Heranes coughed, starting off after them. She might have caught them in a full sprint, but the centaur bounded ahead while she was still winded from the smoke. Even without her, the two robed women leapt into the trees, seeming to vanish into the shadows and bound from branch to branch as quickly as Heranes could sprint.

Heranes gave up the chase and threw up her hands. "Are you two seriously experts at running away!?" The mysterious women very well may have been, because they didn't bother to answer as they vanished into the woods.

When Deska caught up with her, Heranes filled her in. "So," the bandit observed. "Ye didn't listen to a single word of my advice?"

"Well that's not the problem now."

"It kind of is," Deska hissed, pouring out some water into a bowl for her horse. "When you ambush somebody, the idea is you only do it once. Then they're scared of it happening again, and there is no more surprise."

"I could burn the woods down," Heranes offered helpfully.

"Fire works too slow. They'd be aware and gone before we knew what end they were coming out of. B'sides, Tartes probably needs this forest to, ye know, live."

Heranes grunted and laid back on the ground, looking up at the treetops. "This isn't my usual wheelhouse. I've been able to challenge everything and face it head on. I can outrace them, but they're set to do nothing but run."

Deska picked up one of the empty black pellets they'd left on the ground. "Well, think about it. They've got a martial artist; that one tha gave ye all the fancy slaps and kicks. She ain't strong, but fast and a devil in a fight thanks ta their ol' fightin' styles. The centaurs got them covered for long distance, so she can both run and shoot, and their senses can pick up on anything nearby. An' by what you're sayin', the princess is some kind of escape artist. Smoke pellets ain't normally good for much else."

Heranes swung a hand at her. "See? You're the outlaw here. I had a bounty on me for general property damage for a while, but they realized it became a chicken or the egg thing when I threw whoever came after me through a wall." Heranes stared at Deska for a moment, rubbing her chin. "How big are those boobs, anyway?"

"I'd be surprised if I hadn't heard that plenty o' times. Why?"

"They're big, is all. Look nice and squeezable."

"You're right. They're big. That answer the question?"

"Like, more than a handful?"

"Depends on the hands," Deska sighed, tossing away the empty smoke pellet. "Why?"

"Just because my mom said I could use help as long as I did the deed... and because centaurs are greedy bitches."

Deska and Heranes sat in silence a moment before the bandit tried to run for it. "Yobitdjtop!" The bandit crashed back to the ground with a grunt.

"Ooh, ya right dirty bitch!" Deska ranted at her. "Ye let me up right now and I'll have ye feelin' me temper!"

"No time," Heranes dismissed. She picked up the thief and tossed her over a brawny shoulder, patting Deska on the ass. "I've got some stops to make before we do the plan. Now come on."

The redheaded beauty laid back against a tree trunk, lounging wearily. She heard the hoofbeats approaching and picked up her breathing. The first time it had just been a deer, but she had cursed at it until it ran away. This time, though, the same blonde centaur stepped into view. Her tail flicked curiously as she approached the helpless-looking woman.

"What are you doing out here?" pried the horsewoman, trotting closer with her big heavy hooves.

"Oh, just runnin' from my husband," Deska said in as clear a voice as she could. She hadn't been seen by their target, of course, but she felt like the accent would just raise more questions. "The man's such a loudmouthed coward. Believe you me, he just doesn't know what to do with a woman."

The centaur's hooves clopped in place as she pondered the redhead. She finally removed her bow and smiled at her. "Well, I am Glade. I was only hunting in these lands, and didn't expect to catch such a beauty."

Deska giggled and dipped her head. It was about all she could move with the Monkey Queen's artifact trapping her in place. It was enough to wobble her freckled bosom for the creature, and thankfully not enough to move her stylized hair from covering up her missing eye. Fortunately, Glade's eyes weren't focused on her face.

"Are you alright?" the centaur pried, looking her over.

"Oh, aye. I think I just sprained my ankle running through these woods. I could use a strong set of hands to help me with this poor li'l body of mine."

Glade licked her lips and bent her forelegs, effectively kneeling down to the lounging bandit's level. "Well I'm plenty strong," grinned the demi-human, proving her point as she wrapped her hands around Deska's breasts and squeezed.

The former bandit queen would have given her a smack or at least a mild stabbing, but the bracelet's effects were still in full force. Instead, she cooed and arched her back what little she could, pushing her tits deeper into the grabby centaur's hands.

"Ohh, that ye do," she purred, her eyes darting to look for Heranes to burst out of hiding. Either she was waiting for her moment, or she was just enjoying this. The more she thought about it, the more the latter seemed most likely. "Don't suppose ye'd by willin' to help out a poor, lonesome housewife, would ye? I've heard all sorts of tales about the centaurs..."

"All true. The good ones, at least," Glade corrected, scooping up one of Deska's breasts and popping it out of her top. The horsewoman's mouth went to the hard nipples, sucking noisily on it. Deska bit her lip to fight back a curse, forced to sit still and suffer through the centaur's molestations. Her hand pulled and pinched at her other nipple, her hooves quietly shifting behind her as she pulled the top off of the moaning bait.

Glade's drool had run down her stomach by the time Heranes dropped from the tree and landed on the centaur's back. Glade yelped and her upper body jerked back upright, but her hooved clambered to get herself steady. Heranes grabbed and threw the centaur's quiver well out of reach when the blonde started bucking.

"Get off me, you... you heavy whatever you are! Who are you!?" Glade jerked and tried to look straight behind her, but Heranes stayed out of reach. She had to grab the handful of Glade's meager breasts as the nearest thing she could think to hold onto.

"Deska! Gedjassbackup!"

Deska gladly sprang into action as soon as she could move. Payback was a motivator, but also getting out of reach of those giant, stomping hooves. She grabbed the discarded bow and swung it luck a club, bashing into the back of the the centaur's knees. It cracked in two on impact, but the four-legged huntress fell to the ground where Heranes palmed and pinned her head down.

"Nice one, Des. You've got a thing for kneecaps."

"Lemee at 'er," Deska growled, producing a short knife from under her skirt.

"Dionysus' hangover, girl. You had a knife down there? What were you going to do if Glade here wanted to go all the way?"

"You were gonna let her!?"

"Pfff. Nah. I just had to make sure she was invested. Nice backstory, by the way. Very intriguing with the husband story." Glade was squirming with her hooves digging against the ground, but Heranes just lifted her upside down over her head, horse body and all.

"Oh gods!" Glade yelped. "Look, don't kill me! Horse bones are a lot more fragile than they look!"

"Then what were you doing with the running girls?" Heranes demanded, giving her a shake.

"I was just hired on!" she yelped. "The kid had a sob story and I couldn't say no to that!"

"Pretty dumb for a mercenary to have sympathy," Deska snorted dismissively.

"Des, sweetie... your tits are ALL over the place right now," Heranes commented dryly. "Now what's the princess' deal?"

"Forced marriage! Her country's being threatened if she doesn't marry the king! He's got their country by the tail if she doesn't!"

"Des, rope her." The redhead came over and fastened a length of rope between her hind legs and another around her wrists. Not enough to stop her from walking around, but nothing close to letting her run or shoot. Heranes finally set her down as Deska wrapped the rope around a nearby tree for good measure. "I think that's enough for us to get the last two. Without the arrows, I can clean up on them. You got an eye on her?"

Des folded her arms under her chest. "Oh aye, definitely." Heranes took off into the woods while Glade trotted in place, looking as Deska awkwardly.

"You uh..." the blonde centaur muttered. "You've still got your jugs out."

Deska grabbed her captive by the hair and pulled down. The mercenary centaur yelped and dropped back to the knees of her forelegs. Deska lifted up her skirt and stuffed her face into her wet pussy. "Time to finish your job, ye little wench," she growled, groping at her own heavy breast with the other hand.

Heranes managed to find the princess and her other guardian after another hour or so of searching. She found them in a fresh camp, with the taller woman looking around cautiously. They spoke in low voices and another language, but their mention of Glade had her figure they were wondering where she had wandered off to. Heranes sucked in a deep breath, then gave off a battle cry as she leapt the last twenty yards into the camp.

Heranes went for the princess again, but her guard stepped in the way and threw a high kick at her head. Heranes caught the foot and lifted her by it, but the woman used her iron grip as leverage to whirl and kick her in the temple. It got Heranes to flinch as the guard dropped and took her legs out from under her with a leg sweep. Heranes landed flat on her back with a grunt as the woman pounced on top of her, pressing her thumbs into the muscles at the base of the demigoddess' neck. A quick jolt of pain went through Heranes' body before she found herself unable to move from the chest down.

"Don't struggle, monster" the martial artist said in a thick accent, staring darkly at Heranes. "I don't know what you're capable of, but my style gives me mastery over the human body."

Heranes winced a bit, but managed a cocky grin. It was something of a specialty of hers, at this point. "Well that's good," she grunted and jerked her head. "Because SHE'S not a human."

The kimono-clad guard looked puzzled for a moment before Nestei came barreling into her from the trees. Heranes rose up and shook out her arms as the woman rolled with the lioness. The princess' eyes widened as she approached, and performed another flourish. As soon as her hands flung the smoke bombs, Heranes' hands lashed out and snatched them out of the air, catching them in her mighty fists.

"I might be stupid, but I'm only stupid once to the same trick," Heranes scolded.

"Princess, run!" shouted her bodyguard. The warrior woman grabbed some short, thin sword from inside her kimono, but Nestei growled and bit at her so fast that she had to simply raise the sheathed weapon just to block the incoming jaws. The princess clearly panicked and leapt up into the branches of the trees, intent on vanishing once again.

Heranes charged in the same direction and slammed a straight kick into the tree's base, shaking it a moment before it began to crack and fall over.

Heranes charged in the same direction and slammed a straight kick into the tree's base, shaking it a moment before it began to crack and fall over. Princess Eiko yelped and bounded off, clambering to grab a branch on the next tree. Heranes grabbed a stone the size of a ham and chucked it at her, hitting like a bullet and snapping the limb off the tree. The princess wailed as she started to fall, but Heranes jumped under her and caught her just above the ground by the collar of her robe.

"Let me go!" she snapped, thrashing and kicking at the abducting heroine. She drew a short sword from inside her robe, but a swipe of Heranes' fang blade sent it flying from her hands.

"Feisty for a royal sort," Heranes noted, casually soaking up her kicks and blows to her chest. She checked back on Nestei, who took a kick to the jaw and was forced to let the bodyguard slip free. "Oh for the... here. Sit tight." Heranes grabbed the sash around the princess' waist, setting her down on the ground and pulling hard. The princess went whirling a few yards away, staggering as she realized her kimono fell right off of her without the wrapping. She gasped and clung to the robe, all that was left to cover her nudity.

With an approving nod, Heranes turned back to the charging martial artist. Heranes stomped her feet into the ground to brace herself, and when the woman thrust out with her fingertips at some bunch of nerves in her arm, Heranes swept in with her free hand. She grabbed and bent back the fingertips, getting a pained yowl from the foreign fighter. The bodyguard still thrust out with her other hand, delivering a swift strike to Heranes' throat. The demigoddess gagged, but she still grabbed the offending hand by the wrist. With both of them in her grip, Heranes pulled on her attacker's arms and headbutted her.

The princess' guardian was visibly staggered. Her lean build was made for dodging and striking, but not for taking a hit that hard. Heranes grabbed her by the belt and lifted her off her feet before slamming her back down to the earth. The impact tore at her belt, letting the warrior woman go bouncing out of her robes and landing limply (and entirely nude) against a tree.

Heranes looked back to see the princess trying to scamper away, but she was making terrible progress with her hands busy, trying to hold up her kimono so that she didn't trip over it. There was a small mess of tools and weapons strewn about behind her, certainly other means of ditching her if she had to try again.

"Nestei, watch the big one. No eating yet." The beast growled lowly. "Yes, you DO listen to me, so shut it."

Heranes easily caught up to the princess and picked her up by the hair. The young Asian woman yelped and thrashed as the robe fell off of her, baring her pale form. "Sneaky little thing, aren't you?" Heranes mused.

"Let me go! I don't want to go back!" she cried.

"I mean, I don't really care," Heranes shrugged. "You've got a wedding to go to."

"I don't want to marry him," Eiko whimpered. "This hurts. Can't you just tie me up?"

"Considered you had fucking fifty ways to break out of things on you, I think I'll just keep my hands on you, if you don't mind."

"I do mind!"

"Friggin' language barriers... that was rhetorical." She hefted Princess Eiko over her shoulder, nodding back as Nestei. The lioness started dragging her bodyguard along behind her. "Look, I heard about it from your pet centaur. So you're marrying a jerk to keep the peace. That's what royalty does. I'm sure there's a nice old crone or something you can find to curse him for it or something."

"You don't understand," moaned the princess. "I am Eiko, the only princess of my clan of ninja. We had hoped to stall for negotiations with my promise of a wedding."

"Well, you made your bed," Heranes shrugged, bouncing the scrawny girl with the bounce of her broad shoulders. "Now you've got to eat it too. Or something..."

"The king is a brute," Eiko huffed. "He forces this marriage with threats to my people."

"Yea? What kind of threats?"

"My clan could defend itself from any army on land, but he holds a great navy. He threatens to attack from the sea, and our boats are only one for each of his ten."

"So just marry an asshole. Save your people. It's pretty much what princesses are for."

"But... I love another."

"Ah." Heranes nodded knowingly. "One of those. What's he like?"

"Um... she is named Hina."

"Ahhhh. One of THOSE."

"And your lion is dragging her very roughly."

"Ahhhhhhhh. Okay. So you wanted to marry your bodyguard and tried to elope at the last minute?"

"If we had more time to prepare, we might be able to fend off Tartes' ships. But at this rate, we would be powerless against his navy."

Heranes thought this over for a bit as she walked back towards her and Deska's meeting point. "You know... I'm not real keen to carry you all the way back there. You squirm a lot and it's weird feeling those little boobs of yours on my back." Eiko blushed at this, but she continued. "Would you be willing to walk back if we cut a deal?"

"What sort of a...?" Eiko started, but then froze as they reached Deska and Glade. "No. Not that kind of a deal..."

Deska was still groping her breast, the centaur on her knees and lapping noisily at the moaning bandit's pussy. Heranes sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Need five minutes there, Des?"

"Make it ten, and I'm done."

Heranes walked back into Tartes with the princess' hands locked up behind her back in iron cuffs. They were directed to the temple, which was decorated lavishly for the wedding. Guests from all over the kingdom were already gathering, and the king was in his robes at the head of the great hall. King Derta was clearly the younger brother to Palthas by a few years at least, but a far rounder and thinly bearded man. He smiled as Heranes presented the Asian princess to him in her chains.

"There you are, my exotic little gem!" he beamed, stepping forward with arms open to embrace her. Heranes stopped him short, putting a hand to his chubby chest.

"First things first? You got your bride, you got your wedding. My job done here?"

Derta gave the chains a testing tug and then nodded. "Yes, I'm sure we can handle things from here. The priests are ready, the people are gathering, the guards are on high alert," he confirmed, emphasizing the last with a glance at Eiko. She stuck her tongue out at him as she recalled fleeing and taking out a dozen of them herself the last time.

Derta smiled once again. "Well if you'd been more cooperative, we wouldn't need these new bracelets of yours. But you will see! I am a generous husband! Why, I haven't even dispatched my ships yet after all this trouble."

Heranes shrugged and walked out of the hall. "Whatever. She's your problem now." She grabbed a leg off a boar at the feast table, biting off a chunk as she left.

The ceremony went along as planned, for the most part. The bride was a bit on edge, but she went through the long winded speeches and vague indications that the gods might have approved of this coupling somehow. As they reached the real meat of the ceremony, King Derta said his share of the "I do"s. They started to ask Eiko when a slow creaking noise sounded, as if one of the temple's wooden beams was being blown around by a strong wind. Everyone paused to look around, but Eiko looked knowingly out the window.

"You were saying?" she prompted the old priest. He nodded and went on.

"Yes, right. Where was I? Ah, yes. Do you accept King Derta of Tartes to be your true king and husband in the eyes of the gods?"

Eiko grinned proudly. "I do not!" She leapt into the air and swept her chained together hands in front of her. She gave a quick flourish with the lockpick up the sleeve of her kimono and the locked irons were useless. The king grabbed for her, but she slid nimbly back down the steps. Two guards went for her, but she swept the legs out from under one. She drew and threw a star-shaped blade with enough force to pin the second's cloak to the ground.

"Princess!" growled Derta from the front of the hall. "I have had enough of this! Come back right now, or I am ordering the navy to set sail for your island!"

Eiko looked back, meeting his eyes for a moment before she laughed. She threw down a handful of smoke bombs, and she was gone.

She met the rest of the group back at the docks. Her own ship was ready, with Hina already waiting on its deck. They hugged and kissed passionately a moment while the sounds of confusion came from deeper in the city. All of the soldiers and sailors had been called to the temple for the wedding, leaving the boats unattended. There was now a rickety handful left, most of them sunk, broken, or missing.

Heranes had hurled a few into the ocean, but then realized it was easier to just punch a lot of holes in the bottom and let them sink. Nestei was allowed to run through another and turn it into a toy, clawing apart the sails, eating rations and chewing apart the steering wheel. Deska started a few strategic fires and cut some important-looking ropes, while Hina punched apart some vital mechanisms. Glade was able to simply trot inside and shoot or mule kick enough chunks of the boat apart to leave it due for weeks of repairs.

Eiko hugged Heranes tightly. "Thank you, hero. My people will be sure to use the time you've given us to prepare for any attack by sea."

Heranes smiled and patted her on the back. "Ah, you know what they say. One country's war crime is another country's hero. Now scram before you waste the time we got you."

Hina reached into her robe and produces a pouch of gold coins, holding it out to Glade. The centaur shook her head. "I didn't do you much good in the end. Besides, it was nice to help for once."

Eiko bowed low to her. "Thank you all the same, Glade. If you ever wish to visit, you are welcome on the island of the ninja."

Glade thought for a second. "How big an island? Lot of running space?"

"Many fields and forests," Eiko nodded.

"How's the booze?"

"Strong."

"The women?"

"Strong," Eiko laughed. "But also beautiful."

"Heck, that's all I needed." Glade trotted onto the boat with a grin before they pulled up their ramp and set sail, waving goodbye to both their kidnappers and rescuers.

"Ye really are just a big softy," Deska smirked, nudging Heranes in the ribs.

"Am not," Heranes grinned, scratching her lioness behind her ears. "I'm just a really bitter bitch. Now come on! Scene of the crime and all."

"And then she escaped. Totally by her own power," Heranes reported.

"Unaided?" King Palthas pried, rolling his enchanted seeing gem in his hand.

"Obviously," Heranes said with a straight face.

"Good. My brother's an ass."

Heranes actually chuckled. "Runs in the family, huh?" Palthas just scoffed.

"Speaking of royals, I have another asking for a task to be done."

"See, I like this," Heranes grinned. "No more 'wait for a day' crap. Just piling them up."

"You've been requested to do battle with Helen of Troy."

There was a heavy silence over the room. "So... should I know who that is?"

Deska smacked herself in the forehead. "For the... do ye not know anything?"

"I know she's from Troy!" Heranes spoke up in her defense.

"She's the damn queen of the Spartans. 'Face that launched a thousand ships' and all that. A bloody queen if there ever was one!"

"And the wife of King Menelaus," Palthas added. "She had sent out a request for a worthy opponent, and I sent her husband word that you could provide. Face her in titboxing and win, and you'll have completed your task."

"Pff, no big deal... wait, beat her in what?"

Palthas grinned and folded his hands. "Titboxing. A sport of her own creation, apparently. You're familiar with boxing, aren't you?"

"Sort of."

"Well it's that. But without hands."

"Ah... so big titted queen. Got it."

"And a daughter of Zeus."

Heranes' looked of puzzled amusement dropped instantly. Palthas' eyebrows raised curiously at her response. "Is there a problem?"

"Nope," Heranes responded promptly. "Des. Get the horse. We're goin' to Troy. Now!"

Trial 5: defeat Helen of Troy in "titboxing"

With Nestei returned to the grand arena, the two set sail again. Deska and Heranes sat by the edge of the boat, eating their dinner quietly. Deska drank her rum with her dinner, along with the rations of rum she'd managed to gamble off the other sailors.

"Ye doin' alright? Been quiet," she noted.

"I'm fine." Heranes bit her piece of fish in half, chewing a while before she spit some bones skillfully over the edge of the ship.

"Ye don't much care for other demigods, eh?" Deska offered. "Part of the competition?"

"Well I sure as shit don't like Zeus," Heranes growled, taking another angry bite of cheese.

"Got yer mother's temper? I got me da's. That or he was such a shite of a father he passed it on without thinkin' about it." She took another quick swig.

"Zeus is just the worst," Heranes snapped. "He's a lech and a dumbass, and he makes all these shitty monsters by sticking his dick where it doesn't belong!" Deska didn't reply, but slid her mug over to Heranes. The demigoddess took a big gulp. "It's a piece of shit like him that goes around making all these fucked up things, causing more problems than he fixes and leaving them out there to fuck things up even worse!"

Deska frowned as she looked up at the evening sky. "Do ye mean fucked up things like you?" she chanced.

Heranes raised a hand as if to punch her in the arm, but let it drop again. "They didn't even think about me," she muttered. "I wasn't even a person to her, and definitely not to him. My real parents were strangers who were nicer to me than they even considered."

Deska picked at some of her bread. "So... do ye need a shoulder to cry on or somethin'? I guess I could do somethin' like that..."

"No," Heranes huffed, though she visibly calmed down. "I don't cry. Crying's for pussies."

"Damn right," Deska grunted, pushing herself back to her feet. She slipped past the dining sailors, and Heranes watched her quietly step inside the captain's quarters and return with a bottle of something stronger than what the sailors were allowed. "Here's to shite parents and showin' em we're better'n them, eh?" She held the thick brown bottle out to her unofficial handler.

Heranes snorted and took it from her, pulling the seal off with her teeth. "Here's to your funny way of talking," she grinned. Heranes clapping a hand into Deska's empty palm and giving it a firm squeeze before she took another drink.

Troy was a bigger place than most. It seemed like it was full of big manly men, which Heranes snickered at to no end. They were led to the palace, where King Menelaus graciously greeted them. He was a tall and solidly built man, and already Heranes could respect that more than most of the kings she met. It meant he didn't spend all day on his throne getting too fat, scrawny or old.

He led them right to Helen in her private chambers. These "chambers" were basically a whole wing of the palace, with several baths, changing rooms, bedrooms, gyms, and finally, a private arena of sorts. It was an odd setup from Heranes' experience, but she'd seen some fighters messing with the idea of such a wrestling ring. It was lined with smooth ropes on either side, forming a box by linking them to solid wooden pillars around shoulder height. The grunting could be heard well before they arrived, finding two women facing off in the middle of the well-kept ring. It didn't take long to determine which was Helen.

A slender brunette girl had her hands tied behind her back, the same as her opponent. A big jiggling chest was thrust out in front of her, being pushed and battered around by that of her blonde opponent. The blonde's chest was even bigger than the first girl's, wide enough to have their round edges poke out past the insides of her armpits. Heranes had seen ripe watermelons grow smaller than that. Her perfectly smooth, pale but healthy skin ran from head to toe, covered only by a tight-fitting pair of silky shorts around her wide hips. She wasn't nearly as muscular as her husband, or even Heranes, but she had a healthy sort of weight to her. Everything about her showed excess without going over any unspoken edge; full lips, big and clever-looking eyes, wide hips, big breasts, generous curves, and a thick bounty of straight, golden hair falling down over her shoulders.

Said shoulders worked overtime, flexing and shaking to swing or shove her massive breasts into the brunette's relentlessly. The thicker, bustier woman kept knocking her back, and the smaller opponent was soon forced to rest her back against the ropes. She winced painfully, trying to escape before Helen rushed towards her, crashing her breasts into her opponent's. The brunette woman get a split second of a moan before she coughed the air from her lungs, crushed by the queen's huge and wobbling bosom.

Helen pulled back, her breasts bouncing in a gleeful dance at the slightest movement. Her excited nipples protruded from her chest, long, thick and firm like half of a man's thumb. She rammed her chest into her brunette victim a few more times, softening her up before Helen looped a leg over the bottom rope and started to grind her breast into the smaller woman's chest. The brunette screamed as her hard nipple was drilled and pressed in by Helen's thicker tips, bringing her to tears as her bound hands desperately grabbed at the ropes behind her.

Helen finally relented, stepping back as a servant girl rang a simple bronze bell. The servant slid into the ring, Helen breathing heavily but smiling as the sweat ran down her skin. The victim slumped against the ropes, her chest heavily bruised and powerless to do anything but wait for the servant to move on to her after the queen was tended to.

"That's Helen of Troy?" Heranes asked, as if it needed confirmation. The king nodded proudly. "Face that launched a thousand ships?"

"That's what they call her," Deska shrugged.

Heranes snorted and smiled slightly. "No wonder. I’d want to run away from a face like that too.”

The servant finished toweling off Helen and draped a robe over her shoulders. While the aide went to help the beaten girl, Helen herself climbed out between the ropes, smiling her big perfect smile at their guests.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," she chimed merrily, as if she were having the best day ever and topped it off with a pleasant jog. "Had to finish up that round. Can you believe she was the best they had in all of Balta? We do have to take what we can get to stay in shape, though."

"Yea, we all gotta pick on some smallfry sometimes," Heranes said quickly with a bright smile of her own before offering a hand. "Name's Heranes!"

Helen gladly took the handshake, if a bit less passionately than Heranes did. "Yes! I've been hearing about you lately. Beating armies, catching the uncatchable. Things like that. Quite a grip you've got there."

"Yea, well, you know," Heranes said, playing it off like it was nothing. "Grew up on a farm. You know how much a workout you get there."

"Well you are the daughter of Hera, aren't you?" Helen pressed.

"In a sense," Heranes shrugged. "So this titboxing thing. You invented it?"

"Oh, I just started popularizing it, really," Helen insisted. “It was an old, barbarian sport in some forgotten civilization swallowed up by Greece. Some of the scholars brought it to my attention and I've just been undefeated ever since."

"I can see why," Deska muttered, not quite able to look the queen in the eyes when her massive chest was hanging halfway out of her open robe, as if her breasts refused to be contained and pushed at the fabric to force their way out.

"But let's not rush into that!" Helen insisted. "I'm fresh off a match, you're fresh off your trip. We can talk over dinner and freshen up for the match tomorrow."

"Yea, sure," Heranes agreed lazily. To be fair, she did want to wait for the fight. Not for nerves at all, but she really wanted Helen at her best so she could shove it in her face that much harder.

Over the next day, Helen was admittedly a wonderful hostess. Menelaus was either not as in-control as he appeared, or he was simply taking the back seat for Helen's excitement about the event. She was quite giddy that perhaps another demigod would be enough for her to find a real match. She went over the rules with them in great detail; apparently the barbarians who came up with the game were quite the sticklers.

It went in rounds of 3 minutes, with a half minute break after each one. Hands were bound at the beginning of each match, and refreshed in each round if necessary. No hands or kicking of any sort was allowed apart from moving around the ring. A fighter lost only if they surrendered, passed out, or otherwise indicated their defeat. Each side was allowed to have a second in their corner, but only to help them in between rounds.

Heranes lounged in the bath, already scrubbed down and just soaking at this point. The big private tub was carved into the marble, and left exclusively to Helen's guests. "So you're going to be my second, right?"

Deska shifted on the other side of the tub, which was still big enough for her to stretch out her legs without bumping into Heranes. Her pale, freckled breasts floated on the surface. "I had been thinkin' you were goin' to pick the lion over me," she chuckled. "But aye, I'll be in yer corner."

"So we're thinking endurance, right? Try to outlast her?"

"Mebbe. Woman looks a bit of a beast herself. If ye got the strength of the gods, then she got the looks."

"Thanks for the compliment, Des," Heranes said with a roll of her eyes.

"I mean it. I heard stories before, but me and my girls were smart enough to stay away from you demigod types. I had no idea what your kind could do." Deska raised a finger from out of the water. "But we don't have that problem, do we? We saw her practicing, right?"

"Yea, she was bumping boobs with another girl. Tells us a lot, doesn't it?" Heranes said sarcastically. She carefully rubbed under her breast, making sure she'd gotten rid of any sweat or dirt. She looked back up at Deska and her single eye staring back. "It tells us something, doesn't it?"

"Definitely aggressive," Deska noted. "Cocky. Big and heavy, so lots of weight to push around."

"I get it. She's stacked. Come on, though. I'm no slouch in the boobs department. I'm an Eta cup at least myself. I just need some practice."

Deska took some of the oil from the bowls left out for them, trying to tame some of her hair before she noticed how Heranes was looking at her. "Ohhh, no. Don't ye go lookin' at me like no punching bag, missy."

"Des, look. You've got bigger tits than me. There. I said it. And you're the closest thing I'll get to a test run before I go up against her."

"So rest up instead of wastin’ yer time on me." Deska folded her arms stubbornly under her big freckled chest.

"I'll use the monkey bracelet," threatened Heranes.

"Oh ye will not. I'm no good to ye laying still, and I'm a right stubborn bitch when I want to be. I'd rather spend a day layin' around than gettin' my arse kicked by the likes of you again." Heranes grunted and went back to washing. "I told ye, I don't mess with the demigods when I can help it. Just use strategy for once if yer afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Heranes huffed.

"Really? Cuz ya sound like it."

"Well I'm not, okay?!" Heranes snapped back.

"That why yer beggin' me for help and lookin' for a way out of this whole trial?"

"Hey! Who said I was looking for a way out?!"

"Then get yerself washed, get your arse to bed like a big girl, and go break that great royal cow in half tomorrow mornin'!"

"Fine, just don't have to be a bitch about it!" Heranes splashed some last water over her face and sat up, storming out of the bath and down the hall, still wet and naked. Deska overheard a passing handmaiden give a startled squeak at the sight.

Deska chuckled quietly to herself, picking up the bottle of wine the servants had left for them. "Telling the fuckin' Bandit Queen that she can't motivate one brute to get into a fight," she muttered, taking a pull straight from the bottle. "I led a whole damn army of idiots half as strong as this one altogether. An' they was twice as craven and four times as drunk..."

All as planned, the pair met up with the king and queen for a light breakfast before the match got started. They climbed into the ring, Heranes in the just the skirt of her stola and Helen in fresh shorts like the ones from the night before. Menelaus was seated near his wife's corner, but it seemed she was going with a random servant instead of an actual second. Deska was still in Heranes' corner, though Heranes was hoping it wouldn't last long enough for it to need rounds at all. A servant woman rubbed each of them in oil from the waist up as they sized each other up once more before the match.

"Good luck, Heranes my dear! I hope you're ready for this," Helen chimed from her corner, letting her servant tie her hands behind her back.

"Oh, you'll have much bigger things to hope for than that," Heranes boasted back as she let the woman who had oiled her see to her hands. The servants finally stepped out of the ring, drying off their oily hands and ringing the bell. Heranes and Helen both came out at a brisk pace, both women jiggling as they tried to stay light on their feet. While Helen kept her eyes locked on Heranes', the heroine found it hard to look at the woman's face when such easier points of interest were available.

Heranes struck first, thrusting forward with her pecs and shoulders. Her firm breasts crashed into Helen's bigger and softer set in a head-on collision. Helen's breasts spread out to either side and wobbled from the impact. The queen herself gave a short intake of breath in surprise, but Heranes frowned at how small her reaction was. She was used to people that she hit flying through walls, or at least stopping breathing for a second.

Helen's tits hadn't stopped jiggling before she pivoted sharply, whipping one of her hefty breasts into Heranes' like a fleshy flail. Heranes winced as it clubbed into the very edge of her perky bosom, stinging the taut muscle behind her breast. She was still off balance when Helen swiftly pumped her shoulders left and right, making her breasts pelt into Heranes' like a pair of boxing gloves.

The heroine retreated as her big firm chest finished wobbling while Helen's were still in motion. If Heranes' chest was like a pair fleshy boulders, then Helen's was acting more like a pair of large pools of water; always in motion but seemingly unhurt by any real impact.

Intent on disproving that, Heranes planted her feet and rushed at Helen tits first. Helen stepped back and pivoted out of her way, letting Heranes' chest hit nothing but air. The redheaded demigod turned and leaned into the ropes at the edge of the ring, catching herself and trying to regroup when Helen lunged in again, her bigger tits crashing down on top of Heranes and crushing her back against the ropes.

Heranes gave a quick shout of pain as her boobs were squashed under the fleshy bulldozer of Helen's chest.

"That's the way, love!" Menelaus encouraged, applauding the well-timed counter attack on the challenging demigoddess. "Don't give her an inch!"

"Come on, yer holiness!" Deska shouted from Heranes' corner, far more aggressively. "Back on yer feet. Ye plannin' on losin' this early?!"

Helen wiggled her shoulders back and forth to grind her breasts over Heranes'. The heroine bolstered herself, planting her bare feet on the mats and flexing hard enough to shove back into Helen. The curvier queen staggered back and Heranes came out swinging, using her height advantage to slap both of her breasts on top of Helen's like a pair of dropping hammer blows. Helen gave a much sharper hiss than before, which got a proud grin from Heranes. Helen suddenly shifted her footing, bracing her legs behind Heranes' and driving her breasts into a sudden uppercut. Heranes gasped as Helen's heavy breasts practically defied gravity to slap her soft flesh and hard nipples into the heroine's tender underboob. Heranes' strong arms caused an audible rip as her hands tore some of the ropes around her wrists, instinctively trying to protect her chest.

Helen took advantage of her natural confusion, bracing her leg behind Heranes' and pushing tits to tit with one hard ram. Heranes fell onto her ass, with Helen moving quickly after her by dropping to her knees. Heranes kept herself sitting upright by resting her bound hands on the mats, but Helen swung her shoulders to bash her in the face, going back and forth  with her pendulous breasts. Heranes' head jerked with the blows, unable to defend herself as the oily boobs pummeled her until her ears were ringing. Fortunately, one of those rings was the bell, and Helen lifted herself back off with a grunt. She gave a relieved little sigh before she went off to her corner. Heranes pulled her arms apart, snapping the ropes off with ease and pushing herself back up.

Helen was already in the corner with her servant applying fresh oil to her chest. Heranes leaned into hers, catching her breath when Deska climbed up onto the ring apron.

"Don't even start," huffed Heranes, but Deska dumped some water on a rag and wiped off her brow.

"Actually, don't think you're doin' half bad. We're learnin' it's damn awful to fall down in this, so watch your footing more than anything else. You're not as quick as she is, but you're a lot sturdier." Deska casually massaged her fingers around the edge of Heranes' breasts until they pressed into one of the tender spots that Helen had hammered her. Heranes gave a quick curse, but Deska rubbed at the pinched muscle and the ache faded a bit as her chest jiggled and loosened up a bit. The bell rang once more and Deska started to wrap up Heranes' wrists again. "Now let her come to you and show her what a goddess' tits can do, aye?"

"Yea," Heranes growled, flexing her chest with enough godly might to make her pecs bounce on their own. Helen smiled appreciatively at the trick and stepped back out into the match. Heranes braced herself for Helen's initial attacks, leaning away from her blows while keeping her feet planted. Heranes leaned back in where Helen retreated to wind up another attack, catching her chest at its most vulnerable. Helen cringed from the counter attacks, pulling back her shoulders and trying to slap her swinging breasts into the sides of Heranes'. The heroine hopped back, letting Helen's heavy jugs not only miss her, but slap into each other when the attack whiffed completely.

"Too slow, cow," Heranes laughed, giving Helen another quick jab while she was trying to keep her jiggling chest under control. Helen stumbled back another step, just for Heranes to use her height again and bash one of her boobs into Helen's face. Helen went staggering back, looking clearly shocked by the head shot as the oil from Heranes' body shone on her cheek.

"Try launching ships with a black eye," Heranes laughed as Helen was still reeling from the hit. She gave a short ram with both of her breasts, briefly flattening Helen's chest with the force before she was sent toppling back into a neutral corner. Helen tried to regroup and brace herself with her bound hands, but she was irrefutably cornered. Heranes rushed her like a bull, but instead of crushing the queen, Helen threw herself to one side and let Heranes crash into the ringpost.

Heranes was used to plowing through walls, but hitting her bare tits on the the hard corner still got a pained shout from her. She turned around unsteadily, just for Helen to unleash a barrage of tit attacks that slammed her chest again and again. "Finally, someone who can take a hit," Helen praised with a manic smile on her face. Heranes grunted loudly as the huge, oily jugs went wild on her, bouncing her breasts around forcefully before Helen swung a bit higher, cracking Heranes across the cheek with her rack. The heroine rolled across the ropes clumsily, ending up landing on one knee rather than risk falling over again.

Helen wasn't content with that, as she shoved her tits into Heranes' face, pinning her back against the ropes. The heroine's muffled shouts and curses were buried under the huge and heaving breasts of her opponent, Helen leaning in and shaking her chest to ease her tit flesh into her nose and mouth like a lethal motorboating. Heranes squirmed and shoved, even with her particularly durable lungs, but she was stuck tight in the breast smother. She wasn't going out cold any time soon, but it was still humiliating and crippling in terms of presenting any offense. Heranes bit into the tender flesh, getting a yelp as Helen recoiled and glared back at her right as the bell rang.

Heranes went back to her corner, though at least both girls were short of breath this time. "Better?" she pried as she leaned into the corner.

"Lots," Deska confirmed and started checking her over, applying a bit more oil while she was at it. "Might've had her if you'd kept yer head on straight near the end there."

"Bitch better not give me a target like that then..."

"Yea, remember when that was OUR strategy? Baiting HER in? She's gonna be more careful now, so push her back hard. And watch where you're hitting her with these things." Deska pressed her fingers right below Heranes' areolas, getting a tender hiss from the demigoddess. "Ye're startin' to bruise the merchandize."

"Wow," Heranes huffed, smiling a bit. "I can't remember the last time I actually bruised. Nice."

"Not if ye plan on winnin'. Get 'er where she's tender and keep pushin'."

The bell sounded again and the women got right back into it for Round Three. Heranes went in with hard strikes, bashing into wherever Helen’s heavyweight tits seemed the softest at the moment. Helen got in more of her own busty blows, taking her hits but at the benefit of forcing Heranes to back into the ropes again. She tried to shove Heranes to trap her there, but the heroine pivoted to one side. Helen's big breasts flopped over the top rope, and Heranes was quick to capitalize. She shoved her breasts over Helen's shoulders, starting to bounce up and down. The queen screamed out in pain as the ropes dug into her breasts, rubbing the fabric roughly into the deep crevices under her chest.

When Heranes pulled back, Helen was sticky with sweat and oil alike. She groaned and struggled to get her heavy breasts off the ropes as her thick legs staggered underneath her wide hips. Heranes hopped up for another overhead smash to Helen's tits, but the queen pulled back just in time. While Heranes bent over from the failed hammer blow, Helen twisted and bashed one of her meaty tits right into Heranes' face. The huge bust left Heranes briefly seeing stars as she leaned against the ropes.

"Ughhh, fuck me," Heranes cursed.

"Don't mind if I do!"

"Wait, what? OOOAAHHHH!"

Helen thrust her chest into her fellow demigoddess, her hard nipples spiking right into Heranes' at top speed. The heroine gave a shrill scream as her tits were lanced by her foe's, the big thick nipples actually starting to invert her own.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! She's titfucking me!" Heranes shouted in outraged disbelief, eyes wide with shock and pain. Helen twisted his upper body to drill her nipples into hers, starting to power Heranes' tips back into her aching areola.

Heranes grit her teeth tensing her pecs tightly. It proved just enough to keep her nipples from fully entering her breast; straining, but not as painful and not as much a sign of defeat. Helen looked shocked as Heranes puffed in short, heavy breaths. "Bigger isn't better, bitch," Heranes growled, twisting suddenly. Helen gave a startled cry as Heranes spun her around, putting the queen's back on the ropes as the challenger gave a few precise charges of her own. Her nipples rammed into Helen's, the thick hard nips forced to yield to the sheer power and firmness of Heranes' breasts, molding them around like clay as the challenging demigoddess’ denser tits left large, crater-like impacts with her breast blows.

Heranes took a large step back, leaving Helen breathly leaning on the ropes. Tears were starting to slide down her cheeks as she fumbled with the ropes to stay standing, but Heranes charged her full force.

"Wait, be care-" Deska started, but then just looked pleasantly surprised. "Oh... nevermind."

Heranes slammed into Helen with enough force behind her godly body to not only take her off her feet, but snap the entire ring's ropes in half. One of the turnbuckles was completely uprooted as Helen flew over backward, falling to the gym floor outside the ring. It was like she had been hit by a cannon, minus the additional gore usually involved. She cringed and squirmed from the pain in her back, ass and tits. She couldn't even get to her knees, only just managing to pull herself up to a sitting position and emitting a pathetic whine.

"You're going to need a pair of little body bags rather than a bra," Heranes grinned at her, standing at the edge of the ring. Helen stared up at her in fear, shaking her head as she saw her muscular legs brace readily.

"No... no, don't! Please! Stop!" she yelped, but Heranes jumped off the ring and swung one of her breasts across her face, dropping Helen to the floor like a rag doll. Heranes quickly straddled her, sitting on her stomach and leaning over Helen's big, bruised and beaten jugs. Heranes squashed her toned breasts into the teary-eyed Helen's face, the queen flailing with her legs. She shouted and wailed beneath the heroine's chest, but any calls for surrender were smothered out by her impressive chest. Helen's eyes finally rolled back as she blacked out beneath her, the bell finally ringing to end the match.

"Booyah, bitch!" Heranes boasted, standing back up and ripping her hands free from the ropes herself, flexing her thick arms and grinning down at the witless Helen. "That's how you titbox, ya slutty cow! How's it feel being Heranes' slut now?!"

Menelaus cleared his throat quietly nearby, and Heranes stopped her rant to step back. "Oh yea. I mean, uh, 'your highness." She grinned as politely as she could.

"So it went well, I see," King Palthas mused, idly rolling his seeing gem in his fingers.

"Yea. Somehow, I thought you might like that one." Heranes was fully dressed and back in his throne room. Her chest had mostly recovered by now, and Helen had woken up before they left. She'd been all laughs and hugs, delighted to know that not only could someone keep pace with her, but there was someone even better than she was at her beloved sport.

"Well, you're nearly halfway through your trials, then. I think you'll be pleased with this next one.”

“I wouldn’t say I was disappointed by the last one… but why do you think that?”

“It concerns your mother."

Heranes frowned. "You don't know my mother," she said with certainty.

"I meant Hera."

"Oh yea." Heranes visibly relaxed. "Right. Go on."

"One of her most sacred temples in Roila has been desecrated; its halls filled with mud. The few guards who ventured inside report it to be the work of a witch."

Heranes raised an eyebrow. "Mud, you say..."

King Palthas smiled brightly. "Yes. Did you have a problem with that?"

"No. And I imagine you don't either."

"Certainly not. Make sure that seeing stone is on nice and tight now."

Trial 6: drive the swamp witch Gorus from the temple of Hera

Heranes and Deska made it to the city of Roila. It was a fairly wealthy trade city along the most traveled roads, and far enough from any real disasters that they had the opulence to spare on great temples to the gods. It wasn't hard to figure out which one was Hera's; even if you didn't recognize the golden statues of her motherly beauty, what appeared to be tons of wet mud was flooding out of every door and window of the place.

"Witches be crazy," Heranes chuckled, shaking her head and gesturing at the temple. "They don't halfass anything. I can almost respect that."

"Ye almost respect her pissin' in the eye of yer birthin' mum?" Deska smirked at her.

"Oh, I can totally respect that. Witches are just better than the Olympians because they don't get all righteous about it when they're being a jerk. Openly selfish and petty."

"So that's where you get it from," Deska teased. Heranes pushed her in the shoulder hard enough to fling Deska into a wall before she approached a few guards standing watch outside the reach of the mudflows.

"Hey, man!" Heranes shouted for their attention. "What's going on?"

A young and clearly in over his head guard turned to face her. "Oh! Uh, witches, miss. We've got one loose in the temple."

"Yea?" Heranes asked, raising her eyebrows in lazily feigned surprise. "Buncha strong guys like you can't get her out of there yourselves?"

He shook his head as his ill-fitting helmet bounced around. "No, miss. Even when we got past all the mud, she's a slippery one. Dragged a few of our men under and flung the rest out."

"Under the mud?" Heranes pressed.

"Yea, she just vanished under it all and then grabbed them by the legs. Yanked em into the mess of it all." The boy of a guard shuddered. "That's what they told me, anyway. The ones she spat out, that is."

Heranes looked the temple over a bit before she kicked off her sandals, handing them off to the guard. "Got it. Hold these. They'll just slow me down."

"Wait, you're going in there, miss? That's... that's crazy!"

"It's a lot more than you guys are doing. And it's not miss. My name's Heranes, and you'll be smart to remember it." Heranes gave a short sprint to the edge of the mud and leapt towards the temple, hurdling over a short march's worth of the mess and landing in the middle of the stairway. Her feet made a great splash upon landing, and even chipped some of the marble, but she stayed standing and started to wade her way into the temple itself.

Inside, the temple was big enough to fit a hundred or so people in its seats. The stone building was big and sturdy, with fine statues of Hera about the large room. Even the sacrificial altar was well kept for something that had cows and sheep dragged onto it on a good day. Apart from a few small patches of gold or marble, the walls and everything in between were covered in the same mud as the outside. It looked as if someone had set up some elaborate mud bomb and set it off in the middle of the chamber to roughly coat everything in a wave of the mess.

The witch was in plain sight, wearing an old dress with numerous holes and crude stitching. Things all turned towards the unexpected from there, as far as Heranes knew of witches. She looked young and thin, for one; the same age or possibly even slightly younger than Heranes herself. She had short, pitch-black hair and pearly skin smooth enough to make Heranes awkwardly aware of every callous on her hands and knot in her hair. Fortunately for her, the demigoddess quickly filtered discomfort into anger. The witch actually seemed untouched by the mess, the mud only visible at her toes and heels where she stepped.

The mysterious woman smiled as she sat on the tall chair normally reserved for the high priestess, resting a chin on her delicate fist and crossing her long, pale legs. "So they've gotten desperate enough to send a demigod after me," she said with a grin.

"Demigoddess, thanks," Heranes corrected crossly. "And believe me, they're paying me good for this."

The witch smiled and leaned back, ignoring how her rear burrowed into the mud beneath her. "Really, now? Are you sure I can't match that offer? I've come to quite like it here."

"Godhood," Heranes grinned. "Don't think you can outbid that."

"I see. And how do you plan on removing me?"

Heranes paced and shrugged. "I thought about that a little. I have my doubts that you're a big enough deal to curse a demigoddess, and mud's just mud, no matter how much you pile it on. I drank a lake once on a dare and I can hold my breath for 10 minutes, so that's not gonna stop me. I figure they won't burn this place or collapse it because they're afraid the gods will be shitty." She looked up meaningfully at the ceiling. "Like they are... and smite them for it. So I was thinking the old fashioned way."

"Old fashioned, you say? And what, young lady, do you think is older than Gorus the swamp witch?" She stood up and started to walk forward, the mud on either side of her writhing and rolling as if part of a stormy sea rather than thick and idle mud.

"Throwing stuff!" Heranes blurted quickly as she simultaneously flung a nearby bench singlehandedly at her. Gorus was visibly startled as she flung herself to one side, letting the wide seat smash into the one she had just been sitting in.

"Why you oafish little..." Gorus growled, but Heranes was already reaching for another bench. Gorus gave a quick and complex gesture with her fingers. The nearby mud rolled into a wave as it flung itself towards Heranes as if it had a mind of its own and that mind had a particular grudge against her. Heranes just smirked and stomped the ground in front of her, splattering the mud wave to pieces. The wet mess splashed over her, but she casually wiped a bit from her face. It was negligible compared to the rest that stuck to her legs, arms and hair, but she ignored the simple mess.

"Told ya. All of the mud on earth isn't enough to take me down." Heranes barreled down the aisle towards the witch, grabbing her by the arm and twisting it behind her back. The thin young woman put up more resistance than Heranes would have expected by looking at her, but she still bent and cringed at her hold.

Gorus made another of her elaborate gestures before Heranes could catch her other arm, and the mud rippled again. Shapes resembling shapely women rose like living sculptures, surrounded the two of them. Their heads turned to aim their vaguely carved features at Heranes and reached out with their messy hands.

"Okay, so you've got a theme," Heranes granted her with a grin. She pivoted as one of the mud women grabbed at her clumsily, punching it hard enough that its head splattering into a puddle on the far wall. It fell back into a heap of clay, but two more grabbed onto Heranes. She threw a kick into one's middle, blowing away its lower half while the rest still held onto her. Heranes let go of Gorus to grab the other by the head, flinging the animated mess into a wall and letting it join the rest of the stains. Gorus eagerly pulled away from Heranes' grip and dove into the mud, seeming to vanish into the ground as if it were the surface of the ocean.

The half-golem crawled up to Heranes' shoulder, one sticky hand grabbing and squeezing one of her breasts. Heranes growled in frustration and grabbed it by the neck, throwing it into another advancing clay figure. The smaller one stuck inside the other with a splat, making them both pause before Heranes charged into them, trampling them back into the mud of the pool.

"That all you got?" Heranes trash talked as she walked up to the last of the sluggishly advancing mud women. She reached out to pop its head in her palm, but Gorus rose from the mud behind her. Before Heranes could turn, Gorus grabbed her around the waist and suplexed the demigoddess into the mud. Heranes grunted as she landed with a messy splash, sticking the clothes to her skin as she kicked to roll away from the ambushing witch. She wasn't able to push herself back up to her feet before the remaining golem kicked her in the ribs. The mud woman forced a grunt from Heranes' lungs with a concerningly solid strike.

"You're in my world now, little child," boasted the youthful-looking witch. "I was untouchable in the swamps. Now that I've desecrated a sacred temple with my enchanted mud, I'm unstoppable." Gorus summoned several more mud women around the winded Heranes, who started to stomp and pound on her from all sides while she was still stunned. Heranes raised an arm to try to guard herself, but the blows were too many. Her other hand grabbed one of the creations by the leg and tried to swing it into the others, but the limb just tore off in her grasp. "You're fighting for a worthless cause," Gorus purred.

As a muddy fist splatted against Heranes' cheek, the downed demigoddess glared between the golems at the swamp witch. "That's funny... because I'm fighting because I feel like it." Heranes suddenly rose and uppercut one of the golems into a stain on the ceiling. She straight kicked another in the chest hard enough to blow it to pieces. Two more jumped onto her shoulders, trying to weigh her down, but Heranes grabbed them by the neck and piledrove them head first into the ground, splattering them to their original mud up to the waist.

She saw Gorus looking wary as the demigoddess started to rise again, Heranes charged her before she could try to dive again. The witch still hopped back and quickly whispered something, slipping into the mud that lined the walls. Heranes chased and punched into the wall where she'd vanished, cracking the stone and knocking loose some of the mud, but there was no sign that the witch had felt it at all.

"I might not be bright," Heranes growled, turning to face the last two of the muddy women shambling after her. "But I think I've got you figured out."

Some laughter rang out, echoing around the room to keep Heranes from pinpointing any real source. Heranes ignored it and moved towards the golems. "You're strong, but not as strong as me, so you hide with your magic." Heranes dodged around one of the puppets' punches and stepped quickly past it. She stomped the ground behind it, rattling the two constructs but doing more damage to the floor than the mud women as she left a deep crack in the stone.

"You also put mud all over because it's the source of your power or something. I didn't get the exactly, except you like the mud a lot." One of the golems pounced at her, but Heranes dug her fingers into the mud that formed its waist. It grabbed at her, but only smeared more mud over her face and breasts before she shoved it harmlessly to one side. The other grabbed Heranes by the shoulder to turn her around for a punch in the face, but Heranes spun around even quicker than it had planned and yanked its arms off.

"You also don't fight your own damn battles," Heranes said with even more distaste. She threw the arms aside and punched the crack she'd stomped into the ground a few times, burrowing it deeper. The runny mud started to pour down the crevice, starting to drain out of the room. "That's why you're sending your little toys after me and keep hiding until they're gone. So as long as I keep one around, I can just sap this place dry."

Heranes was starting to work up a sweat, and was glad there was nothing reflective left uncovered in the room. Her hair stuck to her forehead with the mix of sweat and mud, and her clothes didn't fare much better with its various stains and rips on its surface. Bits of her skin itched from where the mud was drying or running down the lines of her leg muscles. She had taken a few lumps, but this was reminding her way too much of the fight with the runaway bride and her ninja clan. Not that she was looking to end it quickly, but she knew the trick to that fight had been to remove all the tricks her target had available.

"Stop ruining my mud, you brutish bitch!" Gorus hissed as she rose up from the mud behind the heroine. Heranes grinned as her ploy paid off, whirling around and throw a punch at her. The quick turn made her swing clumsy, allowing Gorus to duck under it and grab for her face. Heranes jerked back from her hands, but the witch's surprisingly sharp nails raked a pair of lines down her cheek.

Heranes grabbed the offending arm and squeezed hard enough for Gorus to cry out in pain, making her an easy target as Heranes started to throw punches into her face. The witch was seeing stars when the last in-tact golem grabbed and held back Heranes' attacking arm.

"Gettin' real tired of your shit, muddy," Heranes growled, shoving it back with her other hand. Gorus pulled away again and ran to leap into the mud again. Heranes whistled sharply to get her to turn, just as she grabbed the golem by one of its muddy breasts. She pulled it off in one firm tug, holding it like a dodgeball and hurling it straight at Gorus's head. The tit of clay hit the witch dead on, and Gorus made a startled choking noise when it splattered all over her breasts and face. The mud had always been swept off her when she vanished inside it, but it didn't seem to work the same when when it was flung at her at high speeds. With the mud in her mouth and nose, she couldn't cast her spells either.

"Here's mud in your... uh... I forget how it goes!!" Heranes shouted, charging the briefly blinded witch and performing a running drop kick right to her chest. The impact flung Gorus straight through the wall, more of her mud draining from the huge hole she left behind. She saw the witch landed several blocks away, far off in a lane between a noble's house and the library. Heranes pulled herself up and leapt out the new window in Hera's hall, landing with a dense thud a few paces away from Gorus.

"No mud pies to play with now, squirt," Heranes gloated. It wasn't hard to see how much she'd taken out of the witch with the dirty move. Gorus was curled up on the stone road, coughing and shivering. What was odd was that she was rapidly aging, shriveling and wrinkling until she was an old crone, much more fitting to the witches that Heranes had heard of.

"You've done it," Gorus groaned in a voice that came out echoed by a noise like creaking floorboards. "My precious mud... it was all that was keeping me young..."

Heranes frowned down at her. "Great. More magic youth stuff. Sensing a theme at this point."

The witch chuckled grimly. "Perhaps when you feel the grips of old age, you will know why so many seek to reclaim their youth."

"Not gonna happen," Heranes said, grabbing one of the bony arms and lifting Gorus to her feet. "Gods don't age and gods don't die."

"All the better for them to laugh while we do," mused the thin hag. "Only they are powerful enough to elude it. It was the temple's blessing on my mud that was able to keep me as young as I was."

"Yea, but you were the swamp witch. That mud not good enough?" Heranes pried, hearing footsteps hurrying in their direction from the distance.

"It maintains me. Keeps me a mother instead of a maiden. My full youth just tempted me so..."

A small pack of guards turned the corner and found the muddy, battered Heranes holding the crone. "Is that...?"

"Grandma, really!" Heranes scolded loudly. Everyone but her paused as Heranes hugged Gorus tightly to her brawny body, patting her on the back more firmly than she had to. "Geez, I looked all over for you. I thought I'd left you with Deska! Sorry, guys. She kind of wanders in her old age."

She let go of Gorus long enough that she could stare blankly at the heroine. "That's your... nevermind. What happened to the witch?!" demanded one of the guards.

"Smashed her to pieces. Goddess powers, you know? Her devil magic was nothin' compared to a punch straight from Hera." Heranes thumped her fist into her palm in example. "If you comb through the mud there's probably still some ashes in there, if you want, but she's definitely gone."

"Oh... well good. Did you need any...?" one of the puzzled guards offered.

"Oh nah. I'll get a bath and get my pet thief and grandma be back on my way."

"Very well. If you need us to show you where the bath is..."

Heranes cut him off with a loud laugh. "Son, I am about as straight as a hydra spine. You are barking up the wrongest tree."

The guards left and Heranes gave the smirk towards the still staring Gorus. "What... why did you do that?"

"Cuz you didn't really kill anybody, right?" Gorus shook her head. "Didn't think so. You just wanted to be young and hot like me. I can get that. Plus I saw how you teleported through your mud, and figured you just threw those guards that vanished out into the swamp or a rain puddle or something. No offense, but mud didn't strike me as a real lethal sort of weapon." Heranes rubbed the bruise on her jaw. "Not at first, anyway. Besides, I think it's super hilarious that you fucked up my mom's temple."

"You do?" Gorus asked, confused but visibly calming down.

"Minotaur tits, yes! It's worse than if I threw a house party in there! And shit, do you see that hole I made?" She looked back at the gap big enough that she'd comfortably leapt out of it. "That's gonna take them WEEKS to fix, and man, fuck those Olympian asshats, right?"

Gorus gave a raspy chuckle. "I see... then you'll let me go?"

"Let you go? Heck, if you want a ride, I can punt you back into your swamp from here. I'm pretty good at it, really..."

The crone went a bit pale. "I can manage the walk," she muttered.

"Suit yourself. But I'll tell you what... you need holy mud to get that young?" Gorus just nodded dejectedly. "Once I become a god, I'll tell them to build some dinky temple in your swamp that you can use. It won't be much, but it'll be damn muddy, I can promise you that. Consider it payback for pranking my mom."

Gorus stared at her and grinned gratefully. "That is... yes. Thank you! I await your success!" The witch looked positively overwhelmed, then noticed the fang blade still hanging by Heranes' hip that she hadn't bothered to use the entire fight. Chopping mud in half had never struck her as a great idea. "Here!"

Gorus wiped some of the mud from Heranes' face, drawing a quick rune along the flat of the fang's side and muttering some nonsense. The mud vanished in a flash. "The strength of the earth," she explained. "It may bend, but never break or dull."

Heranes lifted and inspected her weapon curiously. She swung it casually to one side, letting the blade clang off the stone wall and come back without a scratch.

"Couldn't take my word for it, eh?" Gorus grinned with her crooked teeth.

"You WERE trying to kill me like, 2 minutes ago."

"And you called me your crazy grandmother," Gorus added.

"Yea, but in a good way. Thanks, but I'd start hobbling if I were you. Long way to that swamp by the looks of it."

Heranes parted ways with the witch, and caught up with Deska back by the temple, where servants and guards were already shoveling out the mud. "Went alright?"

"Unbreakable sword and a witch that owes me a solid," Heranes smirked. "Made out like a bandit."

"Ah, to be rich as a bandit again," Deska sighed. "But good to hear."

"Yeah, think about it... beat the bandit queen, stole the milk maids, stole the lioness, brought the princess to her wedding, beat Helen, and drove out the witch. Boom. Halfway done in about a week. Longer than I would have liked, but not bad, huh?"

“Think he’s got anything worse ready for ya?” Deska asked as they left the city borders.

"More annoying, maybe, but not worse. Nothing that's gonna be torture or anything."

"We've decided on torture," King Palthas declared.

"Are you kidding? What, are you listening to us or something?!" The king tapped on his seeing stone, and Heranes looked at her own. "Oh yea... huh."

"We've been having border disputes with the Persian armies around some of our territories. Normally this would escalate to some minor war or another, but we decided to save on the manpower. Our scholars say that there was a style of foreign warfare where each side sent their strongest single soldier to do battle instead of an entire army, so we decided to do something in that vain."

"You haven't gotten to the torture yet," Heranes noted grimly.

"Ah yes, that. Well what we offered was that the Persians would get you for a full day. We will drop you off on their borders, and you are to endure every torture, punishment, and humiliation they give you. Any use of truly lethal force voids the agreement and they are to withdraw immediately if they do. If you do not succumb to them within that day, you pass the trial and they will leave our borders as per our agreement."

Heranes folded her arms and tapped her sandaled foot. "This counts as two."

"Excuse me?"

"So your order is for me to go find this guy who's going to give me more orders for a day? I call bullshit."

"The labor is to withstand their punishment for a day. Whether they do one thing or go easy on you, it's one deed for one day," the king insisted.

Heranes gave a long and begrudging sigh. "Alriiiight, fine. Deska, you can chill out here."

The bandit gave her a startled look. "Wait, what? No way. I'm comin' with."

"They're going to be whipping and stabbing me for a day. Even if you wanted to see that, it's going to be a while and I won't need you for it."

"Actually, you might want to bring her along," King Palthas corrected. "In a best case, you may want someone to lead a carriage for you to rest on. At worst, someone should bring your corpse back to the temple of your mother."

The king smiled at them lightly. Heranes groaned and waved Deska to come along. "See the captain on the way out. He'll tell you where to meet them."

Trial 7: endure a day of torture at the hands of the Persian army

Heranes and Deska arrived at the meeting place, an open valley where about two dozen tents were pitched and a small army was camped out and waiting. Although the area was full of armed men and women, they weren't doing anything all that suspicious. Just cooking and cleaning weapons and clothes, mostly. Heranes had never really been in any army, so she supposed that might be what army men did anyway.

"Hey! Demigoddess here. They told me you guys wanted to do this torture thing."

A man sat at the edge of their camp with a crossbow in his lap, eying her skeptically. "Who's she?" he grumbled, nodding towards Deska.

"Politician," Heranes excused. "Official timekeeper, too." The redhead reached into her cleavage and produced a small but wide hourglass.

The Persian soldier eyed up the device warily. "Why should we trust that?" He jerked his head up towards the sun, perched just above the trees. "When the sun next touches the trees, then you can go."

Heranes gave him a weary look before she walked to the edge of the woods, uprooted a tree, and hurled it like a javelin as it passed by the sun. She walked back dusting off her hands as the man stared. "Fine... have it your way. Go see Roshan the torturess in the far tent."

Heranes dismissed Deska as she went where she was told, making sure that the bandit queen turned the timer over before she started walking. She trusted the redhead enough at this point to not only stay with her, but to be tougher and quicker than anyone else in the camp to keep them from meddling with it. She imagined that the army could have pulled the same kind of bullshit she did if she'd let them by cutting down the trees over night to add to her time limit. Fortunately, Heranes had been finding loopholes and sassing people for a long time. Doing it for a whole day was just a challenge rather than a trial.

Roshan was a woman of wiry muscle and a bit taller than Heranes. She had skin the color of milky coffee, and dark hair shaved close to her skull apart from what was pulled back into a ponytail. She wore high boots and a low, corset-like breastplate, pushing up her hips and rounding out her cleavage towards a wicked grin. Around her were just about every torture device that Heranes had heard of, and a few more at that.

"So," Roshan purred, readily gripping a nearby whip from a rack of painful-looking tools. "You really had the courage to show-"

"Tryyyyyyyyyyyyyy-hard!" Heranes groaned loudly. Roshan's menacing smile immediately dropped. Heranes shrugged and visibly relaxed her posture. "What? I thought it was going to be a demon or something, but here you're just a chick in a corset. I mean really! Corset and a whip? That's your style? The ABSOLUTE cheesiest dominatrix look? I'm more horny than I am scared. Was that a part of the plan? The costume being as much torture as the beating and stuff?"

Roshan was at a loss as she stared at the demigoddess. She had handled defiance and spiteful anger, but straight out of the gate sarcasm about her clothes was new. Heranes gestured towards her. "Sorry, you were doing a speech thing. Go ahead."

Roshan's face went a bit red as her scowl came back, though far more bitter than before. "You're not in charge here! I am! Now strip down! For the next twenty-four hours, you're no longer a human being."

"Never was, really," Heranes shrugged, starting to tug off her stola. "You really don't need the whip to get me to do this, you know." She gave Roshan a flirty glance as she lowered it from her shoulder, but the torturess frowned back at her. Heranes smiled back and finished disrobing, holding out her strong arms and twirling on one of her feet.

"So what now? Want me to flex a little? Bend over and give a little shake?" Heranes teased.

"Get on your knees, pig!"

"Wow, yes, MA'AM! I didn't know you Persians liked to party. King Stickuptheass had you guys pegged all wrong." Heranes went to her knees and looked thoughtful for a moment. "You weren't thinking of actual pegging were you, because I experimented...?"

There was a sharp crack as Roshan lashed her whip across Heranes' bare breast.

"AHH! Midas' golden nuts!" Heranes hissed sharply. "That was REALLY loud! Warn me next time so I can cover my ears first!" Roshan growled and gave her a few more strikes of her whip, Heranes wincing once in a while, but nothing more than that. Only some of her strikes even left long red blemishes on the demigoddess, and even those faded away so quickly that it was as if she had simply pressed her finger against her skin. "Ahh, that's the spot. That itch wouldn't go away. Thanks so much," she panted, smiling back at her captor.

"What is wrong with you?" Roshan snapped angrily.

"Bitch, I wrestle lions," Heranes replied with a smug grin. "I once choked out an elephant. I've been banned from like, TEN coliseums and brothels for fighting and fucking, and not in the places you might think. I get super bored sometimes. You think no one's tried to whip my godly ass before?"

Roshan drew back her whip and struck again, this time its tip expertly wrapping around Heranes' neck. The torturer braced the sole of her boot against Heranes' breast and pulled it tighter around her throat. At first Heranes stared at her speechless, but she also didn't make any choking noises. Roshan looked concerned as she pulled the whip a bit tighter but Heranes rolled her eyes. Roshan's arm and leg started to ache in this position, and Heranes smiled up at her silently as she had to change her grip.

Roshan finally let out a sigh as she dropped her boot, letting the whip go slack as she shook out her weary arm. "You guys have demigods where you come from?" Heranes asked skeptically. "I used to hold my breath for ten minutes at a time, just because I could. I was pretty sure mortal hands would get tired before that long, so good to have that confirmed for me."

Roshan gave her a hateful look while Heranes stared back at her blankly. "I mean, you're trying really hard. That's the important part, right? Isn't that what they teach you in torture school?"

"Get up here!" The Persian officer grabbed her by the shoulder, forcing her back to her feet. She went to a post sticking up near the middle of the tent, a thick log with a number of metal hooks on the top. Heranes put up no resistance as she bound her wrists and then slung them over the hook overhead to keep Heranes' hands out of the way but stretching everything out a bit more. She was mostly just glad to show off a little.

What followed in the next several hours was an escalating tour through the world of pain as Roshan delved into what it took to hurt Heranes. It turned out to be basically be a waste of her time and a test of her patience as her methods failed over and over again. The rack's chains snapped while trying to stretch her apart, her cane broke in half against the demigodess' back, and she seemed to enjoy the waterboarding a bit (she commented on how between Helen's baths, the fight in the mud, and now this, she was washing her hair much more than usual). Heranes was breathing a bit heavier, but even the marks and scratches from her lash were starting to heal across her muscular flesh.

Roshan was starting to work up a sweat even worse than Heranes herself. She sneered as the muscular Greek. "You think that you're unstoppable, monster? You think you're some sort of perfect goddess?"

Heranes shrugged as best she could with her bound wrists. "I've had some of my women call me that. Usually a lot louder and with a lot more profanity, though.”

"Well I think it's time I introduced you to a real monster. Jotad!" Roshan gave loud, sharp whistle, and a lumbering figure entered the tent a few moments later. His head was near the peak of the tent, and his body was clad in a mismatched assembly of Persian armor that was clearly more than one suit strung together around his burly frame. His low-hanging brow and hairy knuckles that just avoided dragging on the earth did not suggest good breeding.

"You must be Jotad. I've heard so much about you," Heranes smiled wearily, and the towering goon grinned back with crooked teeth.

"Descended from giants, this one," Roshan boasted. "He was one of my finest successes in practicing my art. Now, we haven't exactly perfected the method yet, so while he serves us, he still has those monster instincts of his. Sometimes we need to... let him loose. Do you follow?"

Heranes glanced up at Jotad's eyes. The man-giant's beady eyes leered over her and a hand went to rest on his belt. She felt sorry for the big lug, and sighed.

"I mean sure... you can try. But you ever been with a demigoddess, bud?" The hulking man hesitated, as if going through a very long list in his head, and then shook his head no. "I'm told it's quite an experience. I used to swing both ways, you know, before I started leaning towards the same team." She met the puzzled gaze of the brute under his furrowed brow. "Gay, I'm saying. I'm basically gay."

The oaf nodded in realization while Roshan frowned and folded her arms impatiently.

"So I fooled around with boys my age before I learned what an orgasm is. Think about that, if you've ever seen one of those," Heranes grinned. "What if I have every muscle in my lower body go off while you're down there? The girl whose parents bought her a metal saddle because I once broke a horse in half from squeezing too hard."

The brute thought again, Heranes quietly thankful that he was trying to piece this together. Whenever he thought, it felt like another 5 minutes went off her time limit. He raised an eyebrow at Roshan. She sighed and handed him a clearly phallic-looking wooden rod, about two feet long and a few inches thick. As much a sex toy as a torture device or weapon, Roshan had given up on the very idea of using it given the way things were progressing.

The thug looked at the smirking demigoddess, took careful aim, and tentatively slid it against her womanhood. Heranes quickly clenched and twisted her thigh muscles, and there was a snap that got her tormentors to jump. Their captive opened her legs and the top half of the thick wooden tool fell to the ground, torn off from the rest of it. There was a moment of silence.

"Nope," mumbled the baritone brute. "Nope. I quit." With that, Jotad walked out of the tent and never came back.

Roshan looked after him with the now familiar look of deflated, seething anger. "Damn," Heranes muttered. "Hope he wasn't your trump card or anything."

So it was back to the torturous drawing board. Roshan worked into the night trying to find some means of punishing the demigoddess that she wouldn't just ignore or enjoy.

Roshan was somewhat famous for trying to leave her "pets" unscathed, breaking them with simple pains and threats and mental torment, but it was clear that wasn't an option for this one. She eventually brought in a bowl of hot coals in one corner of the tent, dipping iron brands and rods into the heat with delicate-looking but thick gloves.

"I doubt even you will withstand this. Hot irons will be placed under your... what? Oh come on!" Roshan jabbed her hot poker roughly into Heranes' abs.

The demigoddess grunted and opened her eyes with a yawn. "Sorry, it got so warm in here..."

"It doesn't mean you fall asleep!"

"It does when you keep me awake for so long! What's it now, like twenty hours?"

"Maybe..." Roshan muttered, looking at the darkness outside.

"You really should have paced yourself. Take a nap in the middle so you're refreshed and my senses are still sharp. Then again, I'm no torturess." Roshan seemed to ignore her and slumped back into a chair. "You must be tired. You look tired," Heranes noted in a helpful tone. "I mean, I've been up this long and I'm feeling sleepy. Not only aren't you a demigod, but I sort of snuck in a catnap when you had me on that bed of nails."

"You... you weren't supposed to sleep on that! How is that possible!?" Roshan blurted.

"Then you shouldn't have called it a bed!" Heranes defended. "Look, you did great. Really. But we can't be that far off from the end of all this. I know you don't have anyone smart or fast enough to get my girl out there. How about I scream a few times, we both catch a few hours sleep, and I leave you guys alone when I go home, one step closer to being a goddess?"

Roshan groaned and rubbed her hand over her face. "What is wrong with you?" complained the corseted torturer. "I've had soldiers cry like babies before I even got this far. I followed all the steps..."

"Well there's your problem," Heranes cut in. Roshan gave her a puzzled look. "You have fucking steps? In torture? Like you have a manual or something? That's just lazy."

"It's a refined practice passed down for generations of Persian military!" Roshan defended, but she sounded uncertain.

"Yea, but it's boring. You're taking the kick out of your torture right away if I'm looking around going 'yep, I know that one and that one and that one.' I get that your options are a little limited when you know I can't really drown, but think on your feet, woman. Think of it like... bad torture is like good sex."

Roshan lifted her head up from her hands at Heranes with a suspicious look. "Perhaps I'm doing a better job than I thought, because that sounds absolutely crazy."

"Okay, I kinda pulled that out of my ass, but hear me out. I think I'm onto something. There's not really a good way to describe it to someone if you've never had it, and it's really all about surprise. You give them what they want, not what they expect. You never want someone going 'Oh, it's this again.' Get creative, girl!"

Roshan looked back at Heranes with quiet confusion at her strange pep talk. "So... like what?"

Heranes shrugged. "I've never been spanked upside down before."

Roshan shook her head. "Even if you didn't pass out, the blood flow would be all wrong. It would make it more numb than painful."

"There, see? You know what you're doing," Heranes encouraged. "So fuck formulas, girl. Go nuts! I don't think any of us wants me to go back to the king and go 'You know. The usual.' If he thinks you Persian are wusses who can't take out ONE Greek, who do you think he's going to come gunning for next when he runs out of land?"

Roshan pondered this for a moment. "Why are you doing this?"

"Boredom, Ro," Heranes admitted. "I didn't decide to become a goddess and then do a dozen impossible tasks because I was too busy. Now come on. Surprise me. Scare me! Don't read me a textbook about torture! Crank it up to 11, babe, cuz you might never torture a demigoddess again!"

Roshan sized her up, but Heranes was sort of pleased to see that she wasn't gauging if she was lying. She was actually looking over the naked demigoddess for weak spots. To be honest, she wasn't bluffing the torturess. Roshan seemed committed to breaking her spirit rather than actually killing her, probably as a point of pride. She wasn't worried about dying so much as she was curious what could actually hurt her. Besides, she only had a few hours at most. That, or Heranes had completely lost track of time between the torture, boredom, and her nap...

Roshan went to the tent flap to speak quickly with one of the men before going back to the hot irons.

"Still with the poker thing? I told you to get OOOOHOHO! Yea, okay! I'm listening!" The brand still wasn't enough to do worse than sting and smoke at Heranes' flesh, but the pain and the heat all felt a bit more intense when it was inside her pussy.

Heranes' toes curled and muscles tensed as she wriggled from her hook on the post. "Okay, stop it! That tickles!" She grinned as she twitched on the spot. She squeezed her thighs together, but Roshan held it in place and then pulled it to one side. The hot iron bent against Heranes' steely thigh, curling it enough that Roshan could let go and the poker stayed buried inside her.

"Ohhh, you bitch," Heranes hissed through a teeth-gritting grin. The soldier she'd spoken to returned with a metal pot of some kind, dripping wet by the looks of it. Roshan dismissed him and fished out a lump of ice the size of a small apple, turning back to Heranes and running it over her chest. Her chest muscles tightened and her nipples grew hard, visibly struggling to control her breathing as the cold on her upper body conflicted with the heat that would have scorched a lesser woman rising up through her groin. The ice was rapidly melting against her warm body, the melted water trickling down her abs and sizzling into steam when it ended at the scalding intrusion.

"Now we're talking," Heranes huffed, her eyes fluttering a bit. "Now I know why those pain sluts are into this."

Roshan grinned and took the poker back out with minimal care. Heranes' privates were unharmed, if a bit red and swollen. She took a few deep breaths to simultaneously savor and recover from the various sensations that had gone through her, her body not knowing what to do with itself. Roshan took a fresh poker from her coals and a lump of ice from her bucket, returning to her victim. Heranes met her eyes, but with an excited grin rather than a dismissive glance or defiance glare.

This time, Roshan inserted both the poker and the ice into Heranes' groin side by side. She gave a high pitched squeal as the sizzling noise and the mixed sensations struck even closer together than last time, making her twitch and shiver.

"Is that too much for you, goddess?" Roshan grinned impishly. "Ready to surrender?"

"Nope," Heranes squeaked out. "No, surrender's not the word for what I wanna do right now. That's... that's a new one." Her captor let the ice sizzle out before she went back to her tools, gathering a few thick metal clasps. "Don't you dare," the heroine almost giggled. "Don't you make me love this!"

"Then stop me." Roshan smiled as she snapped the clamps onto her victim's hard nipples. Heranes took in a sharp breath with the application of each one, shaking her head and shutting her eyes.

"Wouldn't dare, Ro," Heranes moaned. Roshan ignored her and stuck her next poker through the center of a thick lump of her ice, melting through with a bit of persistence until it resembled a marshmallow on a stick. She quickly stuck the hot iron inside Heranes before it could cool down or melt through the ice. Heranes gave a loud cry as the hot tip pressed against her clitoris while the cold rolled around the rest of inner walls.

"I can make it easy on you," Roshan smirked. "Just say the word 'surrender' and it's over."

"Mmmm, no way. No no noooo OHHH YESSS!" Heranes screamed, shivered and orgasmed as the poker gave just the right twist, squirting her juices onto the torture device until they turned into musky steam. It created a loud hissing as she doused the heat of the rod and melted the ice with her juices. Heranes breathed heavily with the stiff smile of her afterglow stuck on her face. Roshan sighed and pulled the cooled poker back out, her captive finally relaxing after a few moments. "Oh man, have I needed that. Trials do not give you a lot of time to find a good woman."

"Well at least I can tell them I made you scream," Roshan muttered, tossing the poker aside.

"Seriously, though. Wow. You know your shit. What are they paying you?"

Roshan sat back in her seat and looked at Heranes quizzically. "Excuse me?"

"The army," Heranes pressed as she started to come down from her sexual high. "What do you make?"

Roshan shrugged. "Well, as a high ranking soldier, I am given my regular rations of salt and a place for my elderly mother and father to stay..."

"That's all? A house and some seasonings?" Heranes scoffed.

Roshan frowned again. "You've clearly never been a soldier. The seasoning is valuable trade, but... what are you suggesting?"

"Just that I've been to a few brothels. I talk to the girls there, and some of them do your kind of thing. They're sort of like specialty items, so they don't work as much as the rest, but they still make for good pay. Most that I know have a house or even a small manor to their name, and that's assuming they don't manage to get a politician who's kind of a freak."

Roshan was quiet for a moment. Heranes gave a sharp tug of her wrists, snapping the chains between them. "Real talk? I'd look into changing careers." Roshan was still silent. "They'd probably let you keep your pet giant too, if you hired him on as a bouncer."

That got the torturess tapping her foot in thought. "I'll talk to my general tomorrow," the Persian finally sighed. "For now, how about we both just get some rest?"

"Works for me," Heranes grunted, rolling her shoulders but not bothering to get dressed. She sat on the ground and curled her knees up to her chest to doze off, though not before shaking a bit of ice water out from her nethers.

"I've seen your naked arse lately more than I'd care to." Heranes opened her eyes to look up at Deska, her arms folded and shaking out the last of an hourglass. "Ye're free to go."

Heranes stood up, stretching her legs and cracking her back. "Great. Massage session's over with anyway." She gave a single wave at the still-napping Roshan, threw on her clothes and left the tent.

There was the majority of the troops out there waiting, weapons raised and waiting. Jotad the giant even had a boulder ready to throw. Deska rested a hand on her scimitar. Heranes rolled her eyes at the various arrows and spears. "Really guys? Really? Honestly, I'm just disappointed."

"You aren't leaving this camp," some sort of important-looking Persian in fancier armor declared.

Heranes just folded her arms. "You know the Greeks are free to attack you if you do anything to me at this point, right?"

"And if we don't, the Greeks will attack us at a time of their choosing. Only then, they'll have an unstoppable demigod with them."

"By then I'll be long gone," Heranes shrugged. "Just about every king I've met is a jackass or a perv. I don't owe them shit."

"Not worth risking." The officer raised a hand, ready to signal his men.

Heranes just groaned. "Des, get ready to add to our body count."

A sharp crack of a whip interrupted them, and every head turned towards the tent. Roshan was there, a bit disheveled from her long night but still in her full torturess gear. "What exactly is going on here!?" she barked.

"We were about to execute these intruders," the man in charge explained, though apprehension was already on his voice.

"They were invited, as you may recall," Roshan added firmly, striding out towards the troops at a brisk pace. "And I DO recall agreeing to the negotiations myself. We were to let her leave unharmed, and I do not intend to let you make a liar out of me."

The captain hesitated, but pointed his own sword in Roshan's direction. "That's traitor talk, torturess."

"It's resignation," Roshan corrected. She took some small emblem off of her belt that Heranes hadn't noticed with all the cleavage to distract her. "I'm tired of inflicting pain and suffering on men and women for your political games. I'm moving on to inflicting pain and suffering on men and women for money and my own sadistic pleasure, dammit!"

Deska gave Heranes a sideways glance. The heroine shrugged back. "What? It's an improvement, right?"

A few of the puzzled soldiers aimed their weapons half-heartedly at Roshan as she stood by the two would-be prisoners. "I'm setting the line here," the torturess explained. "All of you who would follow a leader who cannot keep his word and fears to fight a single fair battle, stay there. Those of you who imagine that they can win against a goddess, stay there too. All of you who don't fear what a woman who earned the title of 'the torturess' from the emperor himself will do to you once you've tried and failed to attack her, stay right there. The rest of you, pack up and head home or follow me for a quiet life in Rome."

The troops mostly hesitated, but she whistled and Jotad obediently went over to stand by her. Several of the troops lost their hopes with their demi-giant leaving their side, most of them going to pack up their camps while one or two stood over by Roshan. More and more of their numbers dwindled until a half dozen stayed where they were with uneasy looks on their faces.

"Now these odds, I like," Heranes smiled as she cracked her knuckles. Deska drew out her scimitar while Roshan raised her whip and Jotad his boulder. "I've been chained up for most of a day, so I could stand to loosen up a bit."

Heranes tossed the seven battered troops into the cart, all chained together. A quick trip back to the city had them tossed in the dungeon while Heranes put in a good word for Roshan and Jotad at the Pink Kitten Inn (and of course sampled their wares once more for old times' sake).

"I've noticed fresh prisoners," King Palthas observed as she reported back to him at last. "So you not only succeeded, but they broke the treaty."

"Nah, check the amulet," Heranes said, tapping her bracelet. "They never really laid a hand on us. Lot of threatening, but it was really just us punching them a lot."

Palthas grunted in disappointment, but didn't bother to linger. "Well since you're looking no worse for wear, I already have your next task."

"Hit me, big shot. I'm all stretched out from that last bit of massage therapy."

"We've received news that the island kingdom of Rhodes experienced an earthquake roughly two days ago."

"So what? You need me to do some rescue work?"

"Well, the earthquake is still going."

"Say again?"

"The people have long-since evacuated, but nearly the entire island has been ravaged by the earthquake for days. We can only assume this is the work of something unnatural. We want you to stop it."

"Okay, so... what's causing it?"

"We haven't been able to confirm, but after consulting our highest scholars and philosophers, we think that it's a disturbance from Atlas, the titan bound to carry the world on his back. Bellows of pain and rage can be heard from the depths of the earth along with the quake."

Heranes looked up thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, I got this. 'Stop the earthquake.' That's all, right?"

Palthas smiled and held out his hands. "Yes, that's 'all' of it. Hope it's not too simple for you."

"Nah, it's fine. See you in a few."

"Yes, well enjoy the trip. It's a long one from what I heard."

Deska and Heranes left the throne room before the former pirate spoke up. "What do ye think he meant by that?"

"I think he means he's an asshole," Heranes explained. "He thinks he knows what I'm going to do."

"And what would that be?"

"He thinks I'm going to travel to the edge of the earth and fight with Atlas to make him stop. Hercules did something a lot like that."

"Really?"

"Yep. He held up the world himself for a while."

"Fuckin' 'ades... could you do that?"

"Totally."

"So what are you REALLY going to do?"

"Save myself about a week of travel time." Heranes cracked her knuckles readily. "Why go to the source when I could just beat the shit out of an earthquake."

Trial 8: bring an end to Atlas' earthquake in Rhodes

The voyage to Rhodes was shorter than most of Heranes' journeys, less than a day thanks to her rowing. As they drew near, there were a number of vessels floating out in the waters. The crew signaled back and forth before reporting that they were refugees from Rhodes, trying to wait out this latest bit of wrath.

As they finally drew close to the island itself, the waves were noticeably more intense. The tide would toss the ship around, cutting their rate in half even with the wind at their backs. To make any real progress, Heranes had to pick up the anchor and hurl it as far as she could towards the island. After letting it sink, she pulled the ship in using it like a grappling hook, just to hurl the next anchor, reel in the first, and repeat herself.

The rumbling was faint around the shores, but Heranes could feel it through her scandals as soon as she set foot on the island. Deska touched down and winced as she had to regain her footing before she took so much as a step. "Ye might be best doin' this one on yer own," Deska excused. "No way am I gettin' a horse on this kinda ground without her goin' bloody mad. It's not like I can stab a force of nature anyway."

"Well that's because you're a lightweight," Heranes said dismissively. She was looking over the shores suspiciously. "Where do you think it's coming from? Like, the center of it all?"

Deska took a few careful steps this way and that, gauging the level of the rumbling in each direction. "Somethin' that'a way, I figure," she offered in an educated guess. "Just follow the shakin'."

"Great. You stay with the ship then. Keep them close but afloat. You'll know when I'm done." With that, Heranes charged ahead and leapt over a low hill, vanishing behind it as she rushed to the center of the island. There were a few small villages and farms that were variously toppled or collapsed, or some outright rubble. Heranes slowed to check each one, but apart from a body or two, the citizens seemed to have fled the disaster safely enough.

In their central city, the constant and irregular shaking starting to mildly annoy her. It would have numbed or simply bowled over a weaker mortal, but she was making a point to keep both feet on the ground as much as she could when she wasn't moving. There were towers and houses that had crumbled down, and the city walls were a fractured mess of stone piled up in at all heights. What convinced her this was the center was the upthrust plates and slabs of stone, as if they were waves of earth that had crashed into each other on the spot and spilled out over the surface.

Heranes hopped over a lower part of the ruined walls, touching down inside. She cupped her hands around her mouth and bellowed into the air.

"HEY! ATLAS! KNOCK IT OFF!" The ships off the shore were able to hear the booming voice, and she felt the rumbling stop for a moment. "Ha! Easier than I thought. I guess it really was him after all." She smiled and started to turn back when a pillar of earth as wide as her torso jutted up from the ground, smashing into her chin and sending her stumbling back.

"Oh, now you done fucked up." The demigoddess wiped the back of her hand across her face, double-checked it for blood, then punched the miniature pillar of rock into rubble. Another one shot up at her, but she sidestepped and stomped down on it, crushing it back into the earth and leaving a small crater where she had stepped. "You feel that, you giant bastard!?" she shouted, but another rumble rocked the ground. The shift threw a boulder at her that smashed to pieces against her chest, knocking her back a few paces.

"That's it. Don't go thinking you can hide from me just by hiding under a rock. I'll kick your ass straight through the entire planet!"

Heranes leapt back, avoiding several stone spikes reaching up from beneath her. She caught the edge of a rooftop and swung to land on top of its rickety tiles. The walls of the building rocked as the earthquake shook it particularly hard. Heranes dropped to one knee and held on, but noted its frustration with a bit of pride. She wasn't positive that punching the earth itself would work against Atlas, but it felt like a good lazy way to skip the trip off the edge of the world. If she had landed on the roof and the quake was chasing her, it meant it was not only from a specific source, but that it could feel where she was. So if it was aware of her and angry, she generally felt like that meant she was doing something right.

When the building didn't seem to fall fast enough, the earthquake delivered a particular shockwave to throw the remains of a marble statue at her. Heranes jumped high over it and slammed back down on the ground as heavily as she could, stamping another, even larger dent into the dirt. The ground shook like a thrashing beast, finally bucking hard enough to topple Heranes over onto her ass.

Heranes felt the rumble beneath her hips and crab-walked backwards on all fours. Several small slabs of stone jutted up from the ground, narrowly missing her legs and body. Heranes rose up again and threw a kick that shattered the numerous little extensions of Atlas, but a violent quake suddenly tilted a huge slab of the street she was standing on as it dipped underground. Heranes lost her balance as the chunk of ground was tipped like a flimsy raft, tipping her towards the open tunnel leading into the dark depths of the earth.

Heranes rammed her fang sword into the chunk of earth, using it as a makeshift handhold to keep herself up. Her arm bulged as she fought against gravity and her own weight, but she swung over to the nearest edge of solid ground. The demigoddess grabbed the nearest pillar, tearing it off its base and jamming it down into the gaping hole. The ground shook as she stabbed the earth itself with the pillar like a harpoon into a gigantic whale. "Not so fun when someone penetrates you, is it, fucker!?" Heranes shouted, pulling the jagger pillar back and stabbing a few more times into the depths until she struck earth with each strike. More angry rumblings felt like further rewards for her attacks until a chunk of stone shot up like a piston in between her legs.

Heranes gave a soft choking noise and fell to her side clutching her crotch. "Agh... you ass!" she hissed as she curled into a ball. "Fucking shit pisser… just when you thought you'd been fucked by everything..."

Several more long rocks and slabs of earth started to rise and slide over Heranes, starting to bury her underneath them. She kicked away a few chunks, but there was a lot more of the ground than there was of her. She shoved back the wall of an old house and shattered a small boulder with her fist, and the rumbling all around her felt more like a steady, baritone laugh than the furious roars she'd heard so far.

"Not my fault if a girl can't fight the entire planet," Heranes growled. She pulled herself a few inches out of its grasp, tearing the fabric of her stola and scraping her skin on some sharp rocks. "So it's a good thing I'm not just some regular girl!" Despite all her talk, the earth finally swallowed her up, burying her in rubble, dirt and stone. The land was quiet for a moment before Heranes exploded back out to the surface. Her clothes were torn in countless places and covered in dirt, and a practical hailstorm of rock and debris fell down over where she had emerged, but she still stood.

Heranes shook the dirt out of her hair. ""That was my favorite stola, you gravely fuck," she growled. The ground beneath her tipped again, but she leapt onto level ground and grabbed the chunk of earth, flinging it out across the island in a quick, arcing throw. A house tipped over in her direction, but she charged into it and plowed through the walls, coming out on the other side. The impact was the last straw for what remained of her clothes, since her godhood only went as far as her flesh, but she at least she could fight on without the worry of all that dirt catching in her cleavage.

Finally, a mound of earth started to move, bigger than the rest she'd seen that day. Practically a small hill, it rose from the ground and formed a huge fist that uncurled itself into a gigantic, crudely-shaped hand. "Bringing out the big guns, huh?" Heranes smirked, trying to dust off her tits but really just smearing the dirt over it. "Well same here, mountain dick!"

The giant hand lunged for her, stretching out of the ground. She leapt over its grasp and landed on the back of the hand, grabbing its middle finger and ripping backward on it until it popped off with a hearty crunching sound. The earth below them shook more fiercely than ever as she threw aside the oversized digit. "Don't give me the finger if you want to get that finger back, bitch!" Heranes shouted, the mad, half-naked demigoddess burying her fingers into the stone of the hand and throwing her weight against it. The strange arm twisted with her, bent around into an awkward angle that got more pained twitches and shakes from the ground.

"You give? Get your ass back home and stop the quake if you give, At-Ass!" Heranes leaned back firmly, bending the stoney arm as the best she could manage to put the planet in a submission hold. As the rumbling and shouting was dying down, she was finally able to hear the voice.

"Help! Is someone there!? Help!"

"Ah, fuck me," Heranes sighed. She had to settle for ripping a chunk of the arm off and hurling it away. The arm thrashed in pain while Heranes ran towards the sound of the voice, tracing it back to the remains of one of the fallen stone houses. She shouldered the biggest piece of a wall she could find and shoved up on it. There was a sort of crude shelter made of the collapsed rubble, trapping the hungry, filthy-looking couple hiding inside what was essnetially an improvised cave.

The man and woman stared at the nude half-god as she lifted most of their house. "Hey," she said casually, even if she was starting to sweat and breathe more heavily. "You guys ready to go?"

The man nodded, but he could only rise unsteadily before trying to help up the woman. They looked malnourished, but not bad for what appeared to be two people surviving being trapped in an earthquake for two days.

Heranes glanced over her shoulder at the rocky hand starting to slither after them, tearing up the earth in its path. "Yea, okay, not fast enough," she pressed urgently. "How far do you think you'd be okay with me throwing you?"

The uncomfortably skinny couple stared at her, speechless. "Yeah, fair point. Okay, hang on, but just watch the hands." She grabbed them both in one arm and slung them over her shoulder, still holding up the piece of wall with her other hand. When Atlas' earthy hand seemed about to grab her, she spun around and swung the piece of wall like an enormous club. It shattered to pieces against the giant's hand, but it knocked it off-course enough for Heranes to leap up onto another roof. Her eyes scoured her surroundings before settling on her next move, rolling her shoulders a bit to ready herself and get the attention of the couple.

"Alright, if I understand mortals properly..." she warned. "Then you two are gonna want to hold your breath right about now." Doing this one too often tended to get her light headed, so she imagined pure humans wouldn't be great with it. She palmed the top of a broken pillar, yanking it out as easily as if she were uprooting a carrot.

As she prepared to jump, the hand lunged again. Heranes reacted quickly and turned her body to place herself in between the mountain of a fist and the couple. She was swept off her feet and the house demolished beneath her, but she held onto the pillar. She dug her fingers into the giant hand, scaling back on top of it by slipping through the gap she'd made with removing the middle finger. "Even higher than the house. Good," she grunted, ignoring the pain in her breast as she jumped as high as she could.

Science being what it was at the time, there wasn't much a better way to explain that Heranes broke into dangerously high altitudes with her jump. Even with the pillar and the couple (who had passed out) on her shoulders, she passed through a few clouds on her way up before she slowed to a stop. She took careful aim and gripped the pillar tightly before she rocketed back down, ramming it through what would be the wrist of the titanic arm. The earth shook at an all time high, enough that a few of the less sturdy peninsulas of the island slipped loose from its hold. The shaking wasn't so much from the rage and pain of Atlas as it was the sheer impact of Heranes, her mighty body and improvised weapon hitting like a meteor with such force that they said it struck the back of Atlas himself.

The arm twitched a few times, but the rumbling stopped. Heranes caught her breath as she leaned on the pillar, twisting it just slightly in the titan's arm. "So... ready to back off yet, or do I take off some more fingers?"

The ground gave a tiny tremble before the arm sank back into the earth. It was a bit jarring to suddenly have the ground standing still, but Heranes tapped her foot appreciatively against it. "Well," she grunted with tired little smile. "I just got cunt-punted by the earth itself, so that was fucked up. Time to call it a day."

Heranes came back over the hills towards the ship, naked and dirty with the pair of survivors over her shoulder. They were still out cold, but she could feel their breathing against her bare shoulders. She waved to the crew as she handed the two off to the nearest sailor.

"Get them some food and pass em off to the survivors," Heranes said a bit breathlessly. "If they die after all the shit I went through, I'm gonna be super pissed." She walked past them to grab one of the water barrels, punching a hole in it to spill water over herself. She washed away most of the dirt and pebbles before she opened her mouth to gulp down the last few splashes' worth. She wiped off her face and yanked a tarp off of a box of cargo to wrap around herself in a simplistic dress. By the time she looked up, Deska was waiting and watching her incredulously.

"Did I seriously just hear ye wrestle an earthquake?"

"There was some boxing involved too," Heranes said with a shit-eating grin on her face.

"And was that ye shit-talking an earthquake?"

Heranes just broke into laughter. "I had some good ones in there, huh?"

Deska shook her head and sat down on the deck, just outside the puddle of muddy water that Heranes had left after her impromptu shower. "Just where do ye get off talkin' so much shite to the bloody ground ye walk on?"

Heranes held out a finger. "First, I get off in private, thank you. Like a civilized person." She raised another. "And two, talking shit is fun." She plopped her wet ass down next to Deska, splashing her with some of the bathwater. "It helps you forget how fuckin' terrified you are."

Heranes skipped rowing on the ride back so that she was cleaned up and rested by the time she reached King Palthas. Scouts confirmed that the earthquakes had died down and the people of Rhodes had started to move back in. Heranes would have propped up a few of the walls and houses on the way back, but she passed on it for the sake of some extra sleep and getting the disaster victims out of there.

"I can hardly believe it," Palthas chuckled.

"Then maybe you shouldn't have given it to me, wise guy," Heranes frowned at him. "I took a small mountain to the twat for that one."

"I saw! It was most amusing," Palthas grinned.

Heranes sneered and gave some sarcastic laughter. "Good. Whatever. Shit sucked. What now?"

"Now," Palthas began, leaning back into his throne. "You'll be obtaining the belt of Queen Hippolyta."

Deska raised her eyebrows, but Heranes muttered ponderously. "Queen Hippolyta? Where have I heard that name before...?"

"She is the queen of Amazonia, the kingdom of warrior women. The belt of-"

"Nah, that's not it..." Heranes cut back in. Palthas looked puzzled as she paced a minute before she snapped her fingers. "Nope! That's it! I once slept with a dancing girl who called herself Queen Hippolyta. Now I'm starting to think she might have not been a real queen..."

"Ah, if I had only I'd had that pendant on you farther back..."

"Yea, you're so taking this thing back once I become a goddess, by the way."

"Yes, yes, of course. But back to your trial. Hippolyta is a daughter of Ares, and famously proud, strong and temperamental. She holds a sacred golden belt that represents her place as queen."

"So I'm stealing the queen's belt? That's all?"

"Well, the queen of a clan of xenophobic warrior women. But more importantly, the champion's belt cannot be removed by normal means. It has been enchanted to only come off when challenged, and can only be held by the victor of the match."

Heranes suddenly burst out laughing. "Wait, hold on. You're telling me that their whole culture revolves around a championship belt? That's fucking hilarious!" King Palthas let her finish before she swept a hand through her hair and gave one last drawn out noise of amusement. "But seriously, yea. I got this. Get the belt off the queen and bring it back to you. Then you'll be a pretty princess all of your own."

King Palthas frowned at the jab. She was getting confident. These were her last four trials, and overall she had not only done them with relative ease, but most of them she'd spent sending underhanded jests and humiliation his way. He just hoped the last would be enough to put her in her place before she escaped his servitude.

Trial 9: Obtain the royal belt of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons

The island kingdom of Amazonia wasn't so far away as much as it was difficult to get to. The rocky shores and high mountains made sure that there were limited entrances to the main island, and that those ways in were closely watched. Even just getting to the island, Heranes had to punch out a sea serpent that apparently had a glass jaw. Deska still grumbled about how she could have done that.

The fickle weather of the strangely tropical island was a threat of its own, and a freak storm had hurled their ship towards the rocks. Heranes had to hang off the side of the boat and kick off one of the Amazonian mountains just to push it away from being dashed on the rocks. Deska made no such comment about being able to do that.

They finally reached the only way into Amazonia's port; an open inlet of the sea that lead to the barely visible settlements and jungles that the locals called "the open arms of Amazonia." With their territorial and xenophobic nature, sailors had come to call it "the open legs of Hippolyta" or something similarly crude.

"And you guys wonder why they don't like us," Heranes scolded the joking sailor, even if she was still snickering at the line. "So we just float in and say hello, then?"

Deska shrugged. "Folks don't often come back from Amazonia. An' they don't take kindly to young lads like these."

"So we send a messenger?" the heroine offered.

"Might work. One fellah ain't goin' to cause much trouble, an' I figure they'd know that."

One of the men took down a message on a scroll and went to shore in one of the rowboats (there was no shortage of volunteers who wanted to go on shore leave on the island of beautiful warrior women). About twenty minutes later, the boat came back. He didn't even have to land for them to see his body was so full of arrows that he was still standing, the arrowheads buried right through him and into the boat itself.

"So NOT friendly," Heranes sighed, handing back the spyglass to the captain. "I could swim to shore, or jump it if we got a little closer."

"An' if they're still feelin' pissy? Ye think ye can stop that many arrows and still keep swimmin' yer way in AND get the belt?"

"The belt that only a challenger can take... yea, I get your point. Maybe if I go alone, they'll be friendlier since I'm a lady." Deska snorted at this outrageous claim. "Oh, shut up. I mean that I'm a WOMAN. I've got all the right pieces to be... Yobitdjtop."

Deska gave a harsh grunt as the Monkey Queen’s bracelet kicked in and she fell flat on the deck, or as flat as her full chest would let her. "Agh! What was that for, ye bloody harpy?!" Deska twitched in place, about as much as she could do while under the curse's effect. "I trusted in ye and ya go ahead and turn this fuckin' thing back on me!? Well ye can fuck yer arse with a hydra tooth for all I-" Deska's thrashing was enough that her head turned to one side, seeing the arrow embedded in the ship right behind where she had been standing.

"Gedjassbackup," Heranes said quickly, breaking the curse again. "I think our problem's solve for us. They sent messengers of their own."

"A real message of peace, aye?"

Heranes brought her arm up to catch the arrow flying for her breast out of midair. "Alright, they tried to shoot me in the boob. Fun's over." She snapped it in half in her hand and threw the pieces into the water.

The amazons suddenly leapt from the surrounding cliffs; women of various shapes and sizes, but at a glance, a lot of tan skin, dark hair, toned builds and big chests. It reminded her of a few drinking nights, if she didn't prefer blondes so much. Also, a lot more bows and swords involved than she was used to seeing in the bedroom. Some were aimed at Heranes herself, but they seemed intent on covering everyone there. They wore lightweight armor, mostly leathers with touches of brass or gold on them, and their chests puffing up over their breastplates as they were bound inside. The stories said that amazons were known to cut off one breast to allow themselves to use a bow without it getting in the way, but these ones had apparently missed the memo.

"So this is my royal escort, right?" Heranes smiled at the squad of amazons staring her down. "I just wanted to see the queen, wrestle around a little..." She winked at one of the golden-haired beauties. "And maybe with you, if you're not doing anything later."

"You are not welcome here," one amazon insisted. She stepped forward, and Heranes was surprised to see her wearing what appeared to be a mask. Not a simple eye mask or a helmet, but a near full face mask. She remembered seeing some wrestler in the arena wearing them before; this one was bright emerald green, and covered everything from the base of her nose up to the very back of her head, which ended in a tight ponytail.

Heranes held out her arms. "Hey, I know the ship is a bit of a sausage fest, but I'm the only one who needs to go to shore."

"Not them. You." Heranes looked around at the crew before pointing to herself in confusion. "Queen Hippolyta will not see you, daughter of Hera."

"What?! What did I do!? I never even knew about this damn place!"

"The queen will not see you," the masked amazon repeated more firmly. "If you insist again, we are to fill you with arrows and take what we can before we sink your ship full of forbidden men."

Heranes slouched a bit with a sigh. "You are breakin' my balls here, masky. But I get ya..." She suddenly turned and punched the nearest amazon dead in the chest, sending the swordswoman flying over the edge of the deck and splashing down twenty yards out towards the sea. The amazons were surprised by this as much as the Greek sailors, so Heranes had time to dive aside before they fired their arrows. Several of the sailors went down in the first volley, but Heranes dodged the spray of arrows and Deska parried two around of the air with a wave of her scimitar. The rest of the Greeks drew their blades and charged.

Heranes rushed into the fray, ducking under another arrow and grabbing the shooter by the ankle. Heranes rose and flung her out into the water like a stone, letting her skip across the surface of the sea once before she splashed down. She had to note that Deska really looked in her element now. She barked a few commands at the sailors, drowning out their actual captain in sheer ferocity and the colorful language involved. She swept her blade in a wide arc, the surprisingly heavy scimitar swatting back the longswords and spears of the amazons. She used the same leverage of her heavy swing to kick one of the archers down, just to release one hand from her hilt and fling a dagger from her pocket that sank into another's thigh, putting her out of the fight for now. She rose and went back into her fierce and heavy handed swings, locking blades with one of the stronger members of their boarding party before she succinctly wrapped up the tense moment with a headbutt right between the eyes.

Heranes drew her fang of a sword and swiped at an advancing local. She had to guess that the old witch's runes still worked, as it snapped the blade of the amazon's weapon right above its handle. Heranes gave a quick laugh before she punched the woman right into her breastplate. The armor exploded to pieces as the naked amazon fell to the deck, topless and out cold. Another leapt onto Heranes' back, but she caught the attacker's wrist that shoved a dagger towards her heart. Heranes just charged backward, the force of her back smashing through the railing of the ship and sending the woman falling into the water when she lost her grip.

"I can see why you did this!" Heranes called over to Deska. "This boat-fighting stuff is fun!" She grabbed one of the amazons by the shoulder before she could drive a knife into one of the sailors, spinning her around and slugging her in the gut to drop the tanned and toned beauty to the deck. Two of the amazons broke back from the action enough to aim their bows again, but Heranes reached over each of their shoulders and squeezed the bows, snapping them in half as she clenched her fist.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot here, ladies!" she chuckled as she flexed her arms and caught them in a double headlock. The amazons gagged while they could, but only before Heranes forced their faces into either side of her breasts to accelerate the chokehold. "I send a little message and you come back and tell me to fuck off. Now, I'm trying to ascend to godhood, and that's no easy task, I tell you what. "So if a handful of bitches and hoes with arrows and bows are in my way, I am NOT gonna be stopped that easy!"

The women went limp in her arms shortly after her little rant. A number of the sailors had gone down, but they'd injured several of the amazons with them between their experience and Deska's command and action herself. A quick scan of the ship had Heranes pleased to see that all of the amazons seemed alive, as best she could tell. The amazons hadn't come in full force, she imagined, and they hadn't fully known what to expect from Heranes being on the ship. A few more swipes and punches had the last of them knocked out, wounded, or at least cornered.

The blonde amazon that Heranes had winked at was backed against the helm of the ship, with one of the rougher sailors raising his cutlass to finish her off. Heranes appeared behind him and gave him a quick thump on the head to knock him out. "Okay guys, new rule!" she called out. "Spare the girls. Ladies, if you're willing to hear me out, I'm willing to let you all walk away from this just fine."

"Amazons never surrender. To yield in a battle to the death is worse than to die." The masked woman glared across the boat at Heranes, Deska's scimitar ready at her throat.

"Who ever said this was a fight to the death? Look, I'm not here to kill anybody. I've got a quest for a belt or something. I'm sure we can work something out. Her dad's a god, my mom's a god, we both love wrasslin'. Why can't we talk?" The women hesitated as they weighed the situation. "Look, worse case, I start shit with your queen and we do this all over again, except that I'm in the middle of your country with what? Fifty times as many of you? Look, we'll even pick up the ones I threw in the drink. Just cuz I'm that good a gal."

The masked amazon thought for a moment before she nodded. "Very well. Lower your arms, sisters. Rodei, signal to the archers not to fire as we approach." Heranes waved to the sailors to let them be, and the amazons relaxed a bit. Some scaled up the rigging and leapt back onto the cliffs with the ease of a pack of wild monkeys, while others stayed and tended their injuries or fished their sisters out with ropes and nets.

Deska sheathed her scimitar and looked warily at Heranes. "You sure about this, lass?"

Heranes shrugged. "Not really. But it's easier than trying to siege the damn place. Besides, how much cooler is my story going to be when I tell everyone I went to that island that nobody goes to? Heranes' Adventures In Hot Lady Island, they'll call it!" She gestured in the air as if it was to indicate a sign hanging over a theater.

As she started to go lend a hand, she was stopped short. She thought her stola was caught on the helm, but she checked to find the blonde amazon gently holding onto the skirt of her clothes. Heranes got her first good look at her, and she confirmed her suspicions that the amazon was downright gorgeous. It had to be something in the water, because she was toned, busty, good-looking, and leggy all at once. Her hair was long and straight like strands a bale of wheat off her old farm, but just a bit of a mess here and there. She was on her knees, still back against the ship's wheel and staring up at Heranes with big brown eyes and pouty lips. She said something in a quick flurry of tonguey words that Heranes didn't quite understand.

"Sorry, what?"

"May I stand?" the blonde said, as if she was repeating herself. Heranes gave her a puzzled look and gestured to rise again, which the blonde quickly did. Heranes moved her confused look to Deska, who shrugged. The blonde spoke again in her flowing language to the masked woman, who seemed to be in charge of their little squad.

"Later," the masked leader replied before ignoring the blonde and going back to work tending to the others.

Things were a tense, but they went a bit more smoothly this time. The ship was allowed to dock, but the men were not permitted on the island itself. Heranes was led alone to their fairly modest marble palace, considering that Heranes had been to her fair share of them over time. Most of the women who had attacked her now walked in front of her to lead her through the plain stone roads. Things looked a bit more exotic here, but it wasn't too far off from Greece that Heranes could notice. Just... full of women. She wasn't one to complain, but the blonde kept following along behind her. She even tried slowing down, and the warrior woman slowed as well.

"Are you okay, blondie?" Heranes pried as she glanced over her shoulder.

"I am fine, thank you," she replied calmly. "But I am named Clymene by my mothers."

"Okay. So why are you following me like that?" The amazon said that sudden string of words again. "Hey, mask! What's she saying!?" Heranes shouted ahead of her, starting a passing woman into dropping a basket of fish. She responded with such speed that it never hit the ground and she never broke stride. Apparently even the amazons' fisherwomen and housewives were badasses...

"Ask the queen," dismissed the masked woman, waving to blow off the question. "It is her duty anyway."

Several guards stepped aside and opened the tall metal doors in a brief but impressive show of strength. Not that Heranes couldn't have done it herself, but nice to see anyway. "Queen Hippolyta," announced one of her guards. "We bring you Heranes, daughter of Hera, the queen of the gods."

"Only by blood," Heranes added curtly. "My real mom's a farmer."

The throne room was about what she expected. It wasn't especially big, but it was still fancy and very shiney. Banners and tapestries were here and there, but more than anything, there were weapons and armor all over the walls. Paintings of women in combat hung, some of them in armor and some of them in... well, nothing at all. Heranes let her eyes linger on those and whistle quietly. Swords, axes, spears, shields of both polished gold and old, dented brass, skulls of everything from snakes to men. It wasn't a boast of wealth or intimidating political power like most throne rooms; it was a museum of bloodshed and war meant to remind everybody about why you didn't fuck with the amazons. What stood out to her was, once again, the masks. There were more brightly colored masks mounted on the walls, some carefully hung and others roughly nailed into place with big iron spikes. Some had visuals of animals sewn into them, while others fire or lightning, or  plain, single colors.

It started to come together about the masks as she set eyes on Hippolyta. The queen had smooth brown skin, even a bit deeper than most of the local amazons had that indicated some foreign blood in her. She was muscular, but with just a hint of softness that suggested a motherly and regal side, all resulting in a big and out-thrust bosom. She was topped by lot of curly black hair running over her shoulders, and sharp green eyes, all of which looked out from behind a pink and gold luchadora mask in the same style as Heranes' attacker. She wore a mix of the warriors' armor and a stola, which Heranes decided was some kind of a reinforced dress. Not enough to stop an arrow, but tougher than a random piece of cloth, so it was probably more of a formality than anything. Her strong legs crossed and showed off some high, dark red boots.

The masked queen leaned on one fist impatiently as she stared at Heranes. She looked up above her throne, and draped over one of its corners was a shiny gold belt.

"Say your business, guest," Hippolyta finally ordered sharply. "Before you go from guest to intruder."

Heranes nodded and put her hands on her hips. "Right. Well I'm here for a trial. I'm supposed to return to the king with your belt there. I don't suppose you're willing to just give that up the easy way, are you?"

The queen frowned down at her. "I was a subject to Hercules' trials once, you know?"

"Yea, I heard," Heranes nodded. "Also heard that it got ugly."

"I had offered to give my girdle to him freely."

Heranes failed to stifle a snicker. "You wore a girdle?"

"Yes, a gift from my father. The god of war. But after I had offered it, Hercules snapped by neck and slaughtered his way out through my warriors. It took my father ages to bargain me back out of Hades' clutches into the land of the living."

"So you're still sore about it..." Heranes guessed with a slight wince.

Hippolyta's frown deepened. "And then they named a species of fat river horse after me."

"Ouch."

"And I later learned it was Hera planting seeds of doubt among my people that caused Hercules' betrayal."

"Wow. Huh." Heranes scratched the back of her head awkwardly. "I can see where the whole 'met with an arrow' thing came from. Does it help that I sort of hate Hera too?"

"A bit," Hippolyta conceded with a wry smile. "But you are no amazon. I am honor-bond as our queen to accept every challenge my people present to me, but you... I could care less about your success. Even if I held combat with you, it would not make you worthy of my title as queen."

"But I don't WANT to be queen!" Heranes insisted. "Queens are for girls who got lazy. I want to be a GODDESS!"

"The belt only accepts official challenges. I am sorry, but you must tell your master that there is no trial for you here."

Heranes groaned and ran a hand over her face. "That piece of... if he knew about this, I'm gonna wring his neck til his balls..."

The blonde said that word again. Heranes raised her hand like she might hit her, but instead just pointed. "And that!! What in Cerberus' three assholes is that!? Nobody is telling me what... what... what's that word again, sweety?" She repeated herself. "Thanks, sugar tits. What THAT means!"

Hippolyta's eyes actually widened beneath her wrestling mask. She locked eyes with Clymene, who stared back quietly. Hippolyta sighed as she continued the staring contest until she smiled. "Well... it means you are in luck, Lady Heranes."

"Just Heranes," Heranes corrected. "Lady Heranes is just my club name."

"Olutvoltatsoranda is an ancient amazonian tradition. I understand that you spared this one of my soldiers' lives." The blonde blushed, and a few of the others wrang seawater out of their hair.

"I spared most of 'em, technically. But yea. One of my guys was going to finish off Clementine."

"Clymene."

"Clymy, shh. Grown ups are talking." Heranes was actually surprised when the blonde actually shut her mouth when she sassed her that hard.

"The true meaning of the words are lost in our ancient history, but it is an oath of a gifted life. Clymene has sworn loyalty to you as a wife." Heranes turned sharply back at Clymene, who blushed harder. "She feels you have saved her life, and so you own it. You must have fought with both honor and strength to win her over so quickly."

Heranes smirked a bit and shrugged her broad shoulders. "Well, I don't wanna brag, but yea. I kinda honored the shit out of that fight."

"And by accepting her offer, you would be made an honorary amazon."

Heranes looked between her apparent wife and Hippolyta in dawning realization. "So... I can fight you? I can get the belt?"

"Should you wed Clymene, I would have no choice." Hippolyta was actually smiling, despite what seemed like begrudging words.

"I mean... yea. Sure. I wasn't planning to marry anything else soon. But just how big are amazons on open marriages?"

"Anything you wish, my wife," Clymene said with a bow. Her head was still lowered when Heranes grabbed her by the chin and forced her head back up.

"Come on, knock that off," Heranes sighed. "Enough with the servant crap. I get enough of that back at the taverns. Let's just tie the knot already. ...good answer on the sleeping around, though."

Amazon weddings themselves were apparently quick and easy affairs. Heranes sent word for the crew to sit tight and for Deska to arrange trade for them to get something to eat. The wedding itself was set up by the next morning, and it was up and running within an hour of Heranes waking up. Some amazons touched her up with makeup that made the Greek squirm, but she liked what they did with the warpaint that helped accent her strong features and the curves of her muscles.

They were marched out in front of an army of amazons side by side, and by the head count of muscular, angry women, Heranes felt pretty good that she'd gone with the diplomacy plan. Clymene was beside her, clad in what Heranes kept calling "a half-dress." It looked like she wore a full-body dress and nothing underneath, but then took a big knife straight down about a dozen different spots, baring a lot of skin and generally defeating the purpose of what dresses were for, as far as she was concerned. It was apparently meant to show vulnerability and comfort with the lover, by what she picked up later.

The queen herself said a few words, a mix of Greek and whatever language the amazonians spoke amongst themselves... and that was it! Apparently six sentences qualified as a marriage on this island. It took her longer to eat breakfast than it did to get married. "We believe in separation of the gods and marriage," one of their warriors explained to her later. A big cheer went up from the amazons, and a few of them fired flaming arrows into the air. The fact that they got a smack in the head seemed to indicate this was them being cheeky in some way.

Clymene turned to her with a smile, and Heranes had to admit that somebody at her own height was a comforting sight. The blonde kissed her quickly on the lips, just for Heranes to grab her by the hips and dip Clymene back as she came back for seconds. This got a big laugh from the onlooking amazons, and even the masked queen had to smile.

And then Heranes learned why the wedding was so short: the afterparty was enormous. The Greeks she lived with were big for any reason to break out the wine, but a bunch of competitive warrior women went just plain nuts with it. A few passing congratulations came their way, but for the most part they seemed to forget why the party was happening in the first place. The queen herself even stopped by to share a drink with Heranes. After a lot of bragging and upping the ante, this turned into Heranes splitting an entire barrel over her knee and handing half of it to Hippolyta. She took it like a massive mug and drank with her.

"It's an ancient amazon custom that the bride share a drink with the queen, after all," Hippolyta chuckled. "As well as that the bride pay for all the drinks afterward."

"Is it now?"

"No, I'm just fucking with you!" Hippolyta laughed. "Damn foreigners, thinking we make up a custom for everything... now shut up and drink, sister, because tomorrow the wine I have shall be your blood."

"Not on your life, Hippy," Heranes snickered back with another big pull of wine, slapping her other arm around Clymene's shoulders and squeezing the giggling blonde to her. "I didn't come here planning on getting married, but I sure didn't come here planning to lose either."

"Then here's to being surprised, my foe and sister true!"

It took a while for the party to settle down, and Heranes was delighted to find that an army of hearty warriors could eat and drink like champs. She had company until the moon came out, finishing the last one drunk enough to arm wrestle her before Heranes excused herself back to her bedroom. She scooped up her new wife and returned before setting her back down.

"You have honored me this wonderful day, my bride," Clymene beamed up at her, lowering her head modestly.

"Hey!" Heranes snapped, actually looking angry for a moment. She took Clymene by the hair and lifted her head back up to face her. "None of that shit!" Clymene stared at her wide-eyed. "I'm not marrying a slave and I'm not marrying a weakling. You say what you want, okay?"

"Oh. Yes, alright..."

"I'm serious. I saw you take a dude's head off when shit got crazy back there. Are you trying to tell me you're the wallflower of the amazons?"

"No, not exact..."

"So hit me!"

"What? Heranes, I think you are drunk."

"Damn straight I am! Now hit me."

"I couldn't possib-"

"You could shoot me with an arrow instead, if you want. I can take it." Heranes thumped a fist on her breast, and smirked as Clymene's eyes went up and down to follow the jiggling.

"I don't want to hurt you, Heranes, my wife..."

"OH! So now you can hurt me? You think you're tougher than me now?" She ruffled her puzzled bride's hair with her palm. "Mouthy little pet I've got here, isn't she? That what it takes to get you amazons to put your tiny dicks away and grow some tits? All talk and no act-"

Clymene suddenly snapped and punched her across the face. Heranes staggered two steps to one side, though admittedly one was from all the drinking, but she laughed as she rubbed her cheek. "THERE we go! Damn, I haven't gotten to go drill sergeant on somebody in a long time. I like you, kid. You've got guts, looks, muscles, but no big mouth on you. Trust me, that's harder to pull off the more you get of each."

Heranes sat back in the bed, pulling Clymene into her lap. "Don't you lose that, you hear? If I'm being stupid, you hit me. Cuz trust me, sometimes it's the only way I'll listen. If I'd wanted a slave, we got those back in Greece. So if you're gonna be my wife like you say, you've got a lot to live up to. You get me?"

The amazon giggled merrily, having drank plenty herself. She clung to Heranes' neck and kissed the demigoddess, the two holding each other and falling back into the bed. They kissed passionately before Heranes rolled Clymene onto her back, mounting her and starting to pull at her clothes. The skimpy attire resisted even less than usual, and it made the Greek feel like she was opening a present.

"Easy, my life-keeper," Clymene urged softly, even as she batted those big eyes up at her lover. "You have your fight tomorrow. You'll need your strength."

"Trust me. Nothing gets me more fired up before a fight." Heranes grinned and slid her tongue through Clymene's lips, pulling out the busty blonde's breasts and running her strong hands over them. They were slightly bigger than her own, but Heranes felt a bit of egotistical pride in her effortless catch. The leaner muscles of her body made intricate patterns for Heranes' fingers to follow, and her pecs made her full chest stay high and perky. Heranes moved lower as she treated the rounded breasts to some kissing and suckling of their own, enjoying Clymene's loud and appreciative moans and cries.

Heranes explored Clymene like a new toy with her mouth and hands before lifting up the amazon's thighs and burying her face in between. Clymene's cries reached a new peak as her strong legs and abs flexed, pushing her womanhood into Heranes' face in time with her hungry licks. Her toned thighs soon ran with tiny rivers of Heranes' saliva mixed with her overflowing feminine juices. Heranes ran her strong tongue slowly over Clymene's clitoris in long, teasing strokes before she unburied it enough to press her lips around it.

Heranes' generous and demigodly lovemaking soon had her drunken bride screaming as she released the built up sexual pressure. Clymene arched her back and pressed her hips firmly into Heranes' mouth, letting her bride drink from her open folds before settling back into the bed.

Heranes withdrew her face from her with a smile on her damp lips. "You like?" she pried, clearly proud of her handiwork.

"Oh, by Aphrodite's clitoris," Clymene panted, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily before she though to take and kiss Heranes' hand. "Definitely! Wonderful! Amazing! ...give me more!"

Heranes actually raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Well, I don't really know a lot who can take more than one round from me. I mean, there’s a reason I usually rented out my harlots a half-dozen at a time... Not that I'm complaining! But if you're sure..."

Clymene smiled and nodded rapidly, getting a wider smile from Heranes. "Absolutely. More, please. Show me more, my goddess of love."

Heranes' smile turned into a grin as she showed her teeth hungrily. "Ohhhh, baby you know just how to turn me on. C'mere, you!"

The next morning Clymene explained the basics of the rules to amazonian wrestling over breakfast. It wasn't that different from what Heranes was used to, except that royal challenges were not done in the nude here. Pinning the woman for 5 seconds, knockout, or submission were the only ways to win, and there were no weapons apart from what you could improvise in the arena. It was a weird hybrid of the traditional Greek style and the same sort of ring that she'd had her boxing match in. Clymene went over how the ropes and the mats were padded with a layer of rubber that would give them a greater bounce than she was used to.

"Layer of what?" Heranes asked with a puzzled expression as she stuffed most of a slice of bread into her mouth in one go. Clymene reached into a nearby basked and produced a bright blue leotard. She stretched it out between her hands as far as it could go before it snapped back back into shape. Heranes had a laugh as she picked it up and toyed with the brightly-colored garment.

"Rubber. It grows here in Amazonia, and we can weave it into some of our fabrics. It is like a natural bowstring," Clymene tried to explain, but Heranes seemed childishly amused by the leotard. The blonde amazon giggled at the sight. "I'm glad you like it so. You'll be wearing it to the fight."

"Say what now?"

"It is the tradition of the challenges. The fighters must be clad in the sacred garb of our most ancient warriors."

Heranes looked skeptically at the stretchy one piece. "Is that why the queen's' got... that?" The Greek gestured around her face to indicate her ornate mask.

"The masks are signs of only our greatest warriors and honored amazons. Ancient amazonian wrestlers who defended our land in generations wore such masks, and were said to be able to fend off armies with nothing but their bare hands."

"And with spandex and crazy holiday masks," Heranes muttered, still eying it warily. It stretched a lot, but would it be able to fit around her...? "I don't have to wear the mask though, do I?" Clymene just shook her head. "Alright, good. I just got my hair how I like it; not really washed, but not too scummy."

"Would you like me to wash it for you?" Clymene offered. Heranes gave her a glance, but she smiled brightly rather than bowing or cowering. "To repay the many new experiences you showed me last night." She gave Heranes a sweet kiss on the nose.

Heranes gave a pleased low groan before she scoop Clymene up in her arms, gettin a pleasantly surprised yelp from the blonde. "I cannot remember the last time I was bathed by somebody. Alright. Let's you and me get wet together!"

One quickie later, Heranes walked the streets of Amazonia, wearing the outfit beneath her normal stola. There were painted posters nailed up all over the place that must have been put up during the wedding or just this morning. It was written in their native language, but Heranes got the impression. Quick and stylizing paintings of herself and the queen in a wrestling ring with bright lights and gouts of fire around them. Drawings of Ares and Hera loomed behind them, apparently playing up their demigodhood as part of the promotion. Heranes saw the mass of amazons waiting to buy their tickets, and noticed that the arena itself was even bigger than the palace, and even more deep inland. Their battleground must have been even more sacred than their royalty.

Colored torches shone bright from the higher stands, and heavy drums, horns and strings worked up the crowd with loud music. Even after the day of the wedding, the amazons were already drinking and eager to see the fight. Centuries later, some of the more mad historians, manly mythology majors, and philosophical luchadors would later theorize that amazon culture may have actually been the ancient root of professional wrestling.

"I got it from here," Heranes assured. Clymene nodded and stepped back from the entrance to the actual arena, veiled from the audience by some thick curtains that only barely stifled their roaring cheers and eager chatter.

"Of course. Any amazon entering the arena who is not in the duel is incredibly dishonorable. Our ancestors called it 'cheap heat."

"You amazons are weird as shit and I love it," Heranes muttered, giving one last look over herself. She decided to leave on her bracers, but she decided she didn't want to risk choking at this rate. She pulled off King Palthas' pendant and tossed it to Clymene. "Keep that handy for me, kid." She patted the amazon on the cheek, got one more kiss for luck... then a slightly more tongue-filled kissed for really good luck before she stepped out through the curtains.

Maybe they were fans of the party, or just that into fighting, but the amazons immediately erupted into cheers as soon as they saw Heranes. There was a long runway down to the brightly lit ring of red, elastic ropes and a bold blue mats. Their orchestra picked up as Heranes entered the arena, the built redhead flashing the newfound fans a winning smile. She raised and flexed her biceps for them, and when they cheered for that, she flexed even tighter until they bulged even higher and tighter from her arms. She reached the low steps leading up to the ring when she took a deep breath, undoing her belt and lifting her usual stola off over her head.

Considering that half the coliseums she went to still held their wrestling in the nude, Heranes knew that she didn't really have a reason to be embarrassed. Deska had even grumbled about seeing the heroine shamelessly nude more times than she'd liked. The spandex felt different, though. For one, it stretched plenty, but it had a hard time fitting around Heranes' sheer bulk. It only got a few inches over her nipples, and it clung to her like a second skin before vanishing snugly between her thighs. Her red hair stood out boldly against the sky blue leotard that cupped her breasts and caressed her abs. Heranes felt like if they'd wanted her nude that they'd have the decency to not confuse her senses with clothes while they did it.

The cheers grew a bit louder to see her in their traditional (and very revealing) attire, which let Heranes smile hard enough to get over the blush. She gave another wave before she pushed down the rubbery ropes and climbed over them, giving them a few curious shakes as she got a feel for the ring.

Heranes had thought her reception was pretty outlandish until Queen Hippolyta emerged. She was in a similar sort of attire as the heroine. She had a long purple cape over her shoulders, and her gold and pink mask shone in the light of the sun and the colorful flames. The curvy queen's black curls were tied back into an almost pom-pom shape that seemed to sprout out of the back of her mask. She had a leotard of her own, but it was a far better fit on the slimmer queen. Its electric purple fabric ended with a silver lining around her inner thighs and the low neckline. While Heranes' outfit showed off her chest by being stretched too thin, Hippolyta's was cut into a deep V down from her shoulders that didn't stop until her upper belly. Her big red boots marched down the runway and up the steps and leapt nimbly over the ropes.

Several bursts of sparks accompanied her entrance as small pots of colored gunpowder were lit up, and the crowd screamed and cheered and threw the occasional scarf or chainmail bikini towards their queen before she finally entered the ring. "It's good to be the queen, huh?" Heranes called to her when the crowd was down to a dull roar.

Hippolyta laughed heartily and nodded as she undid her cape and tossed it into her corner. "We are a private but loving people. All things are to be done with passion in Amazonia. I am glad to see that you share that same kind of spirit, Sister Heranes."

"Work hard, play hard, huh?"

"Very much. Just do not go easy on me because I am now your queen."

"Oh, don't worry about me. I've been getting pretty good at beating up queens lately."

"Then think of me not as a queen, but as the daughter of Ares," Hippolyta smirked back at the newest amazon. "Because it is not the part of me that is queen that will make you bow to me tonight." The crowd's cheers picked up once again for the early trash talk.

"Just don't you forget who's princess of the gods here. And which of us could flip this whole ring upside down and crush you if I weren't so damn polite."

Hippolyta grinned back with an expression of mad delight and spat out a quick stream of Amazonian, something that got another burst of cheers.

"Oh, I understand that them's fightin' words," Heranes smirked back and rushed to start the brawl between the two demigods. Heranes launched two punches for Hippolyta's head, which the queen deftly dodged around. Hippolyta's footwork pranced in such a way that brought her back out of reach and still snapped a kick into Heranes' side. The redhead shrugged off the blow, though noting that there was a lot more strength behind the blow than she had expected. Heranes ignored it it to grab Hippolyta by the throat, lifting the amazon queen off her feet with a quick burst of strength. Before Heranes could spike her back down, Hippolyta lifted her legs and wrapped them around Heranes' burly arm. The masked wrestler leaned back sharply enough to throw Heranes off balance and falling to the mats with her opponent.

Hippolyta stayed wrapped around the arm with all four of her limbs, bending it in the opposite of its expected direction that nature intended. Heranes gave a quick growl through her gritted teeth, but she sat up and flexed her arm tighter. It not only pulled her arm back into more comfortable position, but lifted the amazon queen off the mats by a few feet before slamming her back down. Hippolyta bounced off the mats roughly and took it as a cue to release Heranes' arm to roll to safety, bracing herself on all fours.

"Ain't bad," Heranes complemented, rolling the recently freed shoulder. "I almost had trouble lifting your fat, throne-warmer of an ass."

The taunt got a quick cheer from the crowd and a hearty laugh out of Hippolyta. "Then you had best hurry along your quest to godhood, little girl. Age comes to us all before long." Heranes had heard about the ridiculous lifespans of even demigods, so it made her wonder a bit about just how old Hippolyta was supposed to be.

While she did that, Hippolyta charged towards her from her sprinting position. Heranes grabbed for her with both broad hands, but Hippolyta jumped over her reach at the last moment. "Then again, so does experience," Hippolyta boasted just before her wrestling boots were dropkicked into Heranes' face. The burly redhead was sent staggering back by the hard and surprising blow, bringing a hand to her sore nose. Heranes' back hit the ropes, grabbing onto them rather than risking bouncing drunkenly back into Hippolyta's grasp.

Hippolyta saved her the trouble by coming to her, taking Heranes by the arm and using it to whip her her across the ring. Heranes' feet scrambled to stay beneath her, forced to run along with the momentum until she hit the ropes on the opposite side. She was barely able to right herself as she rebounded again, but Hippolyta was already in motion and dove into a clothesline that put Heranes flat on her back. The redhead landed with a bang that rang in her ears before she could hear the crowd roaring in approval for the dynamic move that had put her down.

She got her wits about her just in time to realized that Hippolyta had mounted her while she was stunned, leaning over the heroine's chest and hooking an arm under her leg to pull her into a pin. The crowd barked out a "One!" to indicate the start of the countdown, but Heranes forced her way into rolling over. It brought her shoulders up to break any sort of official pin, but more importantly it let the heroine raise her other leg and wrap them both around Hippolyta's masked head.

"Gotcha now, you little grasshopper," Heranes grinned, rubbing her chest where the clothesline had connected with her barely-covered breasts. The redhead flexed her thighs, and Hippolyta's arching of her back and grabbing at Heranes' legs showed the kind of pressure being put onto her neck. "Now how's about you give up before I pop you like a cork?"

Heranes poured on the pressure into her head scissors, but Hippolyta still struggled and thrashed rather than giving up. Heranes knew that this kind of effort usually had men screaming for their lives, but the amazons were clearly a tougher breed and Hippolyta was supposedly a demigod herself. There wasn't any holding back in this one.

Hippolyta proved this point herself as she rolled her lower body at just the right angle to slam a knee into Heranes' temple. The redhead gave a startled cry and clutched the side of her head as the queen rolled to her feet. Heranes was still on her knee, holding her throbbing temple. It had been a while since someone had actually hurt her like that, so she was down long enough for Hippolyta to take a quick step and snap a few kicks into Heranes' side while she was still down. The roaring crowd was making Heranes' head pound, but she managed to flash back to a moment when she was watching Helen titboxing in her spar when they'd first met. ...it also made Heranes briefly wonder why so many demigods were given H names, but that was probably just the dizziness talking.

Heranes brought up an arm to block the next incoming kick, crawling on her knees away from the queen. "Warriors are more than raw strength, Sister Heranes," Hippolyta said like some sort of breathless, scolding teacher as she came after her. "They are skill and experience. Your goddess' blood will only take you so far, and you rely on it like an old woman with her cane."

Heranes just ignored her and grabbed onto the ropes, trying to pull herself up weakly. Hippolyta kicked into the back of her knee, bringing her back to her knees and leaning helplessly over the middle rope. "True warriors have technique and control, and RUTH-"

Hippolyta raised her leg for a high kick to the back of Heranes' head, just as she had hoped. Heranes saw the incoming boot from the corner of her eye through her mane of hair, and rolled aside from the incoming blow. Hippolyta cut off in the middle of her sentence as her foot went straight between the top and middle rope, forcing her to straddle the center one as her foot flew out of control past her foe.

"And know how to use her surroundings," Heranes chided with a grin. She pulled on the elastic cord and let it snap back into place, getting a high-pitched shout from Hippolyta. The crowd broke into another cheer as the whipping sensation of the rope hitting between her legs made the queen recoil from the ropes and collapse on the mats. The masked wrestler cupped her womanhood and curled up into a fetal position as Heranes grabbed her by the hair and the back of her suit, lifting her up by the two makeshift handles.

"I never said I was a warrior," Heranes grunted, sweat sticking some of her abundant red locks to her forehead. "I've just fucked up a lot of people." She lifted the queen up over her head before she slammed her back across her knee. Hippolyta gave another high-pitched cry as she bounced off the powerful thigh, rolling onto the mats and clutching her spine. Heranes could see she was in a similar headspace, not used to her subjects being powerful enough to hurt her this intensely.

"But here's a real pro tip from the outside world," Heranes went on as she grabbed Hippolyta by her thick and powerful-looking legs. She squeezed her thighs and lifted the queen up by them and carried her over to the ropes. "They always try to go for the pussy!"

With a satisfied grunt, Heranes slammed the masked woman across the top ropes of the ring, her legs spread out so that it dug painfully deep into her groin. The skin-tight suit did little to hide the fact as the spandex clung to the outline of her crotch. Hippolyta's mouth hung open from the shock of the impact, just for Heranes to grab the ropes right behind her and begin to push them down and pull them up. The queen let out a startled, almost vibrating shout as the rope was bounced deeper and harder inside of her, rocking like a wild stallion between her legs (if an incredibly thin one).

Heranes finally released the ropes to wobble to a stop, the crowd all cheers and laughs and applause for her. It felt good to hear that the amazons were more interested in a good fight than they were who ended up as their queen. Hippolyta held onto the ropes with both hands, a look of overwhelmed agony on her face beyond and behind the mask.

Heranes flexed a thick arm for the crowd before she went to the nearest corner, taking hold of the metal pole between the ropes. "Well, go big or go home, I say. Batter up!" The Greek heroine wrapped her hands around the tall pole and started to pull, intending to uproot it and swing it like a massive steel club at Hippolyta's head. Being knocked clean out of the arena probably counted as a forfeit of some kind.

But Heranes grunted and pulled on it a bit harder on the second try. It was still a no go as the pole didn't move an inch. "That's funny..." She muttered. "I was throwing around whole pillars just the other day. This should be nothing."

"None have been foolish enough to try." Heranes turned to find that Hippolyta had not gotten off the rope yet, but she had risen to balance on it with her hands gripping the rope just past her boots. On top of giving the crowd a great view of her feminine hips and chest, it let her springboard off the elastic band. The lucha queen's legs snapped around Heranes' neck in midair, but rather than choking her out like Heranes had tried, Hippolyta spun past her and whipped her legs to throw Heranes away as she landed. This flung Heranes away from her and slammed her head precisely into the metal of the ring post.

The dense clang came from her skull meeting the pole, stumbling back holding her head. A mix of surprise, sympathy and delight came from the crowd after the impressive move. "The sacred arena of Ares is indestructible," Hippolyta explained through the ringing in Heranes' head. "A bold but foolish maneuver."

Heranes had just gotten her bearings when Hippolyta's hand vanished between her legs (just not in the fun way), the other bracing against the heroine's shoulder and scooping her off her feet just to spike her back down on her face. One advantage of her godly tits, at least, was it wasn't a direct impact with her natural airbags.

Heranes landed hard and groaned as she rubbed her breasts, the spandex naturally doing nothing to really protect her them from the fall. "Okay... someone lifting ME up. That's a change of pace," she grunted, starting to push herself back up. She saw Hippolyta leaning into the ropes, reacting just fast enough to raise her arms. The knee still caught her in the face, but her hands ate some of the impact before it brought her back to the mats.

Heranes still heard the thumping of Hippolyta's boots on the mats, meaning she was still on the move. She forced herself to muster the strength to get back to her hands and knees, even if her own mane of hair was in her way. It hid the fact that she was mentally back in reality, but it also blocked any view of what the wrestling queen was up to.

"So guess!" she told herself, because that felt better than waiting to find out how Hippolyta planned to kick her ass. She lowered her head and blitzed her way towards the masked wrestler's general direction. Heranes hit her like a speeding truck, gracelessly but effectively smashing Hippolyta straight to the mats with a shoulder to the chest. Her bull rush had her going too quick to stop, so she took a page from Hippolyta's book and kept going until she hit the ropes. The heroine's solid weight had her slingshot right back as she let herself fall into an elbow drop on Hippolyta's stomach. The wrestling queen flopped and grunted as the wind was knocked out of her, rolling over while holding her stomach.

Heranes wiped some sweat from her brow, giving a weary smile. "I'm not letting you get away this time," she warned, grabbing Hippolyta by the hair and forcing the battered queen to rise to her staggering feet. Hippolyta was bent over and holding her stomach, shapely ass out in front of the crowd with the tight spandex riding up her thighs. Heranes just grabbed the top and bottom of her costume, using the elastic as leverage to lift the amazon over her head and pull down on her neck and thigh. The result bent Hippolyta's back across Heranes' strong shoulders, drawing a scream from the queen as if she were being pulled apart by a torture rack. Her curvy body was stretched out and her chest thrust up towards the sky, both women's tight costumes clinging even tighter with all the sweat and strain on their bodies.

"Give up yet?!" Heranes shouted over her shoulder at the amazon, but the queen only shouted in pain and protest. The crowd was a mess of random shouts and chants of both fighters' names, urging them to keep a grip on the hold or to break out of it respectively. Heranes could feel the queens every grunt and squirm, and she just tightened her grip whenever she started to get too mobile for her liking. Hippolyta was either faster or better trained for moving around like that, so holding her down and outlasting her felt like something she could do.

Hippolyta finally tried something she hadn't counted on. Heranes' fingers dug deep into the queen's muscles and wrapped around her spandex, but Hippolyta pulled sharply away from her opponent. The sudden motion and Heranes' strong grip tore off two huge chunks of her costume, letting the queen land on the mats in what was essentially a pair of boots and a mask with a few useless shreds of purple hanging on around her arms and sides, covering even less of her body than her original cape had.

When Heranes' hands came back in front of her with nothing but two handfuls of spandex, she knew she had fucked up. Still worn out from her beating and the extended submission hold, Heranes spun around to find Hippolyta already throwing herself at her in midair. Her body splashed into Heranes, taking the demigoddess off her feet and to the mats. Hippolyta rolled with her landing to arrive at her corner, and just as Heranes scrambled back to her feet, she suddenly saw nothing but a wall of purple. Hippolyta had grabbed her cape from her corner and thrown it into her face, so while Heranes was blinded pulling it from her eyes. Hippolyta dropped to the mats and launched both of her boots upward into a brutal double kick straight into Heranes' privates.

“AGHHH!" Heranes gave a frustrated howl of pain. Her eyes watered and her hands went to cover her womanhood. "Right in the Achilles vagina!”

"I appreciate the tip, sister," the naked Hippolyta panted, rising back up while Heranes slowly slid to her knees. She snapped a kick into Heranes' cheek, rattling the defenseless heroine with the impact but she still stayed more or less upright. The crowd was practically explosive as Hippolyta delivered another half dozen kicks to Heranes' head, unable to bring her down but clearly rattling the redhead as her sweaty hair whipped along after her. When Heranes' expression looked suitably witless, Hippolyta grabbed the shoulders of the dazed heroine and and pulled down, ripping it down the middle to expose the busty and muscular Greek. The overworked elastic almost seemed glad to relax from the pressure of containing her bulky body.

"It only seems fair for ruining my royal attire," Hippolyta explained with a smirk. She took Heranes by her bare shoulders and pulled her forward, jumping at the same time to ram her knees into both of the redhead's impressive breasts. Heranes grunted and landed on her back, barely able to start rubbing her aching chest when Hippolyta hopped into the air and drover her knees down on top of them again.

Heranes gave another pained cry and curled up cradling her chest. She couldn't remember hurting this bad, and all the kicks had her tasting blood. That couldn't be a good sign. She numbly felt Hippolyta force her over onto her back, laid out flat as she patted one of Heranes' breasts like a mocking bit of assurance. "You fought well, outsider. I will see that you receive a beating worthy of a queen."

Hippolyta turned away and climbed the nearest corner's ropes, and Heranes' numbed body and aching muscles wouldn't listen to her brain telling them what a bad idea it was to sit still like this. "Little further," she told herself. "Just one more good hit on her and I can end it. She was ready to give up a second ago. I know it..." But she was a demigoddess like her. It was going to be a close fight regardless, and that was half the reason she's accepted it in the first place. It was a challenge.

"Then again, there was that asshole..." Heranes thought to herself as Hippolyta steadied her footing, her legs spread out temptingly around her dark bush. "Hercules beat her by himself and then fought a whole army, that asshole."

That did it. As Hippolyta's legs coiled and jump off the ropes, Heranes gave an almost feral snarl and forced herself back to one knee and out of the spot she'd been laying. The amazonian queen was already in mid air, unable to stop her crash course for the mats... but Heranes stopped it for her. She rose up and catch Hippolyta by the face (or her mask, technically), palming her head with her fingers squeezing the edges of her head.

"Hey, Hippy," Heranes grinned at her wildly. "Got your nose." Hippolyta landed a quick and desperate kick to her side, but Heranes lifted the other nude wrestler by the skull and spiked her hard enough into the mats that Heranes had a brief flashback to her fight with the earthquake. Hippolyta bounced off the mats like a rag doll, Heranes half expecting her to fall into pieces from how she went  about flopping. When the ring stopped shaking, the royal amazon was motionless. Heranes didn't so much pin her as she let herself collapse on top of the lucha queen, but the crowd counted out the five seconds before ringing another brass bell.

The crowd filled with screams and whistles, and Heranes didn't have the energy to care that they none of them were in outrage or fury at their queen's loss. One of the handmaidens (damn, even their handmaidens and towel girls were all tall and ripped) slid under the ropes to raise Heranes' hand in victory before handing her the gleaming royal championship belt.

Heranes took a while to catch her breath, but she smiled at the cheering fans. A few flowers, armored bras, pairs of panties and scrolls with crude maps to their homes were tossed at the ring around her feet. Her ego overcoming her fatigue, the naked and victorious Heranes waved back to the crowd. "Please, ladies. I have a wife. A VERY open-minded wife. So keep 'em coming."

The adrenaline-high heroine dipped down and lifted the handmaiden on one shoulder, flexing the bicep to bounce her on it. "Who's queen of this ring!?" she bellowed, and the crowd chanted her name as she took the belt in hand, wrapping it around her waist (just above her red bush) for a quick laugh as it was the only thing she was wearing.

Heranes made it backstage before she slumped into the patiently waiting Clymene's arms. "How'd I do?" Heranes asked in a voice that came out weaker and squeakier than she was used to.

"You were a thrashing boar pretending that she had any skill," giggled the blonde amazon as she helped hold up the beefy demigoddess. "You gained glory as much as you made an ass of yourself."

"Working on that honesty thing," Heranes smirked. "That's good. But yea... glory and ass. That's kind of a pattern I've got going on. Say, have you got any beds around here? I kinda feel like I shoulda passed out twenty minutes ago, and my brain damage is being really obnoxious about it."

"I have something better. Come, my champion."

"Aghhhh!"

"Was that a good scream or a bad scream?"

"Little of both. Keep going."

Heranes was still nude, but washed up and laying on her stomach. Clymene was rubbing over her abundant back muscles, digging her fingers into the soft flesh until she reached the firm layer beneath. She digged her fingers into a bowl of warm oils now and then before spreading them over her wife and rubbing them in again.

"What'd I say about seein' you nekkid again?" slurred a familiar voice.

"Oh, hey, Des. How'd you get them to let you in on this thing?" Heranes tilted her head to look in Deska's direction, but Clymene pressed a thumb between her shoulder blades. Heranes winced and made a quick squeaking noise. "Okay, no more twitching. Yes, dear."

"I bought a bloody ticket, that's how" the bandit snorted. "You think I'm going to let ye have all that wine last night and then miss you fuckin' up a queen while everyone gets drunk a second time? Ye're right mad."

"Fair enough," Heranes sighed. Deska stepped in front of her and offered Heranes a mug of something that smelled half as strong as she was. The demigoddess took a big swig and smacked her lips. "Thanks. Needed that."

"Oh, it's nothin' compared to how much ye made me tonight. Twas a nice fakeout at th'end thar. Couldn'ta rigged it better meself."

"Des, how drunk are you right now, because your accent is hurting me more than the knees to the tits."

"Ridiculously!" Des blurted merrily. "I've got a fortune to drink away!"

"That reminds me. Roll over, my champion."

"I can get used to hearing that," Heranes smiled, rolling onto her back and wincing as Clymene applied the warm oil to her bruised chest.

Deska took another swig of her own drink as she read the room. "Been busy here, have ye?"

Heranes stretched out lazily, letting her back crack while Clymene moved down to her abs. "Very. Learned about amazon culture, and walked away with a new wife and a new belt. Technically, I guess I'm queen too, but y'know... fuck that."

"How is it that the wife is the surprising part of that sentence?" Deska grunted, shaking her head. "Didn't see ye as the marryin' type."

"Well, when marrying a cute blonde amazon who can kill a man without breaking a sweat gets me closer to being a goddess, I'm willing to consider it. Mmmm, and she has those magic fingers..."

"It's just oils and herbs," Clymene giggled and blushed, but Heranes took one of her oily hands in her and kissed the fingertips.

"And hands that feel like they could crush a coconut. You see this, Des? I could be knee-deep in fangirls, but here I am with the pick of the litter."

Deska shrugged and looked out the doorway where a pair of passing guards peeked in and giggled, waving to the demigoddess. "Well if ye don't want 'em, I could always pick up the slack for ye. I've had enough shots to sleep with some strangers tonight."

"Help yourself. Island full of hot chicks, Des. It's a buffet. Long as you're gay, anyway."

The Irish bandit nodded and lifted the golden and leather belt in her hand. "So you're actually keepin' the belt?" she pressed.

"Yea, I have to, right?" Heranes shrugged as she closed her eyes and let Clymene work her magic. "Part of the quest and all."

"No it's not."

"Scuse me?" Heranes opened up one eye to look at the bandit.

"Were ye not payin' attention to 'em, ye great red harlot?" There was a sudden thud as a large knife was suddenly buried in the wall beside Deska's cheek.

"Whoa! Easy there, sugar! That's just Deska being Deska. We're cool."

Deska just stared wide-eyed as Clymene's icy glare and raised hand slowly lowered, Heranes sitting up and pulling the blonde into her lap. "Go ahead, Des. What are you saying?"

"This is it?" King Palthas frowned at the strip of simple brown leather in his hands.

"Sure is."

"Not as... extravagant as I expected."

"Don't know what to tell you. Check the back. She signed it and everything." Palthas did so. "You wanted a royal belt of the queen. Doesn't get much more royal than a belt picked fresh off Hippolyta herself."

Palthas frowned back at her. "I had asked for the belt that entitled rule over the amazons."

"You totally didn't."

"The belt of the queen..."

"As won in honorable combat. You're looking at it, bro. Ask your sailors. Ask Deska. They all saw it. And no. Nothing in your trial said anything about making you queen of the amazons, because I remember. The level of bullshit was up here." She gestured around her breast. "THAT level of bullshit was up here." She gestured up around her forehead. She lifted up the blue gemstone hanging around her neck and thrust it out at him. "You watch everything I do? Go back and watch yourself prove you're an ass. I did my part of the deal. Me? I'm going to go take a leak."

The king sifted the belt over in his hands before he picked up his own scrying gem and ran his thumb over it in a quiet trance. He was still at it when Heranes came back, but eventually he grunted. "Fine. Impressive a feat all the same," he said begrudgingly. He tossed the belt back at Heranes, who caught it out of the air. "You couldn't have taken one of her garter belts or something more intimate if you were going to play on my words?"

Heranes laughed as she stuffed the belt under her own for the time being. "No way. The look on your face was too perfect. Let me know the next time you need someone's ass whooped, Paly boy."

Heranes walked off, stretching her arms over her head. Deska and Clymene followed quietly until they were outside the palace. "Should you have mentioned that Hippolyta granted this belt the blessing of Ares' resilience?"

"What, and make 'em feel like it was worthwhile?" Deska snorted, popping out her pipe and lighting it up. "Ye're outta yer gourd.

Clymene stared at Deska thoughtfully before she looked up at Heranes. "Your other wife is very strange," she observed, getting Heranes to almost fall over laughing.

"I have never been so proud to call myself ye prisoner," Deska grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose and walking off. She was left to go off on her own devices for the night. Deska decided to just enjoy herself rather than wonder how much of it was just an act of trust and how much of it was an excuse to let Heranes have her first night on the town with her new wife.

King Palthas sent for them again in the morning. Heranes seemed to be in a good mood, introducing Clymene to her pet sacred lioness and the marvels of life beyond her isolated island (namely, all you can eat pancakes at Minos' Steakhouse).

"You will be obtaining one of the golden apples of the Hesperides," King Palthas explained.

"Great. You're just running out of ideas now. Didn't Hercules do this one?"

"I consulted my advisors and oracles. The high priest of Zeus provided me with this one."

"Explains why it's dumb and repetitive, then," Heranes grumbled.

"Yes, well I do know how you wish to outdo your step brother, so you will be doing it without throwing a single strike towards the Hesperides."

"So how do I get the fruits?" Heranes frowned. Declaring that "No punching allowed" was a shitty rule as far as she was concerned.

"There are other means of politics besides war. Diplomacy, bribery... seduction." Palthas let the last word linger like a voyeur in the air  as he shared a crooked grin.

Heranes sighed. "I'll figure something out. Just answer me this: who is Hesperides?"

Palthas gave her a condescending smile. "Why, child," he chuckled. "The Hesperides are a people, not a person or a god."

"Okay, then. Who are THEY?"

Palthas actually paused and his smile vanished. "We... don't know."

Heranes snorted at him. "Seriously!? You know about gods and titans and monsters, and this you don't know about? Some super secret club of apple farmers?"

King Palthas shook his head. "They are the keepers of Hera's garden, and the trees grown from a gift from her wedding. But... no one has been clear on where the Hesperides came from, or what it is they do. Some say they are human, some goddesses, and some say they are fairies. The only thing we know for sure is they have some involvement with Nyx."

Heranes thought again. "So... I'm sort of in the know with the gods. My mom's kind of a big deal, after all. But who is Nyx? She's not a part of the pantheon, and I never read about her in any monster manual."

"No, she is not. We are not even sure if she is a goddess or something greater still, but she is some personification of the night. They say she was there at the dawn of creation, and many times, her presence has Zeus stayed his temper out of fear of her wrath."

"Reallllly? Sounds like my kind of lady if she can get Zeus by the balls like that. Even his wife can't pull that all the time."

"Well I expect your little honor guard to do the same. They are not to fight unless they themselves are threatened. No fighting your battles for you"

"Hades' haircut, Pal. I'd kick their asses myself if they tried it." Heranes patted Clymene on the shoulder. "But with love, sweetie." Clymene smiled and smacked her on the arm as they got their directions and headed off.

Trial 10: return with a golden apple of the Hesperides without landing a single blow.

The Garden of the Hesperides wasn't terribly hard to find; it was a large and lush forest, full of flowers and bushes until it almost passed for a giant hedge maze. It was a garden attributed to Hera, so it had to be a beauty worthy of Olympus. Everyone knew where it was, but no one was brave and foolish enough to go into the mystical and cherished forest of the gods.

The trio stepped onto the purely green grass, looking around for any sign of danger, help, or the golden apple tree. "If life on Amazonia has taught me anything," Clymene muttered. "It's that the beautiful is often dangerous."

"Then what's Deska's excuse?" Heranes asked dryly before breaking into a snicker.

"Don't tempt me, ye cow," Deska grumbled. "I blame ya for this, blondie. She kept most of her insults to herself before ye showed up."

Clymene had been offered more mundane clothes like Heranes' stola or even armor. She declined and kept her standard amazon leather breastplate and leg covers, cloth skirt and scandals, and parts of her hair woven into small but intricate braids that kept it close to her head for the business at hand. Considering Heranes' big mane of red, she was impressed once again by the amazon for how quickly she could tie her long hair into the practical little fashion statement. Her sword was at her hip, a bow and quiver across her back.

Heranes marched on with her companions for a while before she motioned for them to halt. They were walking between a huge rose bush and a line of trees that didn't belong in the same ecosystem, with little more than the sound of distant birds until now. They listened again, and their ears picked up a clear but distant giggle coming from the woods.

Clymene drew her bow steadily, but Heranes waved it away. The demigoddess led them through the trees, casually snatching off a few cherries for herself along the way. Deska and Clymene gave her a baffled look as she ate. "What? This is basically my mom's house. It's cool," Heranes excused.

They soon found the source of the noise as they reached a small waterfall, the laughter ringing out from the waters below. Peering out from the trees, they saw a pair of women bathing and splashing together peacefully. They both had hair the color of midnight to a point where it shone, and skin so bone-white that it reminded Heranes of something between the moon itself and the Geron sisters from her earlier quest.

"I guess they're Hesperides," Heranes muttered back to them.

"Or they could be sirens," Clymene warned.

"Or dryads," Deska added.

"Or nymphs," the amazon corrected again.

"Or sylphs."

"Or succubi."

"Or..."

"You know what?!" Heranes cut in with a sharp whisper. "I get it! Kind of a lot of monsters that show up as naked women in the wilderness. Kind of an easy trap to set. But we know the Hesperides live here, and we have no idea where to go. Let's give it a shot, okay?"

Clymene frowned and drew her bow again.

"I'm going to assume they don't have that saying on Amazonia... but not a bad idea. Stay there in case these things start sprouting heads or something."

The Greek heroine adjusted her belt and tugged down on the cloth above her cleavage before stepping out towards the waterfall with a smile on her face. "Hey there, ladies!" The pair of women looked up with less surprise and more curiosity. "Just passing through. Daughter of the owner. I was wondering if you two knew where to find some golden apples."

The wide-eyed women smiled and climbed out of the water so gracefully that they practically slithered. "Why would you want those?" one of the girls giggled sweetly. "I would have thought a big strong hero would prefer melons to apples." She cupped her chest suggestively, and Heranes had to grin. Dirty jokes and big tits made for her kind of hostess.

"It's 'heroine.' But any other day of the week, I'd love to," Heranes assured the flirty fae. "Maybe I can stop by later, but I need the apples first. You chicks are the Hesperides, right?"

The other strange woman nodded, slightly thinner than her sister. Their identical hair, skin and deep, dark blue eyes was making it a bit hard to tell the difference between them by any other means than direct comparison. "We are the keepers of Hera's grove, and her humble servants. We couldn't possibly give up the secrets of her realm." The wet and naked women batted their long dark lashes coyly as they shuffled their feet awkwardly.

"I know that look," Heranes said with a smirk. "You can let me through if I gave a little something, couldn't you?"

"Perhaps if you stayed to play with us for a little while," the thicker guardian chimed, smiling widely as she pressed her body into Heranes'.

"Just until we're satisfied..." added the slimmer sister. Heranes grinned and cupped the ass of the closest of the two, lifting her off her feet so that she could use the demigoddess' hand as a seat.

"Just til then? Then this won't take long at all, ladies," Heranes chuckled, pulling the uplifted fae into a firm kiss.

"This is so obviously a trap," Deska grumbled from her seat in the woods. "They're not suckin' out her soul or nothin' but you watch. Fae are ta be respected, but they ain't ta be trusted." She looked up at Clymene, who watched the scene go on with a blush across her cheeks. "And ye don't mind her sleepin' her way across Greece like that?"

Clymene didn't take her eyes off the sight of her lover at work, but she shrugged. "We amazons have many partners, but only one wife. Who am I to complain if my wife is happy?"

Deska furrowed her brow. "Because ye're yeself! Does this make ye happy?!" she hissed, motioning towards Heranes as she mounted a strange woman. Clymene looked out at the impromptu threesome for a moment before she leaned back against a tree and slid a hand between her legs, quietly masturbating to the sight.

"Well, at least you like it. I forgot why everyone goes for amazons," Deska sighed. “Kinky bloody nymphos.”

Heranes kept her lips locked with the Hesperide, cupping her ass in her powerful hands. The slender woman moaned into the heroine's mouth, and as her more voluptuous sister ground against the redhead, Heranes freed up a hand to pull her in and move her mouth to her instead. Heranes had spent far too much of her money at the brothels, so she was experienced in handling a few women at once. She divided her attention between them, a hand dedicated to each of their naked bodies. When Heranes started to turn back to focus on the thin fae, the curvier one took her cheek and tried to hold her there. Heranes gave a tug on the back of her hair like a leash mutely tell her to wait her turn, which got a deep moan out of her. Heranes showed off her control and turn in focus by wrapping her mouth around the slim sister's breast, sucking wetly. She moaned and arched her back, and then did the same only further as the hand Heranes used to hold her up let its strongs fingers glide under her and explore her nethers.

Heranes eventually set down the thinner Hesperide by the pool, laid out on her back and her knees spread wide in waiting for her heroine. Heranes first saw to the bustier partner, pulling her down to her knees with her. The redhead hungrily took as much of the fae's jiggling breast into her mouth as she could, moaning in satisfaction as her teeth and tongue brushed over her nipples.

"Such a mighty hero," moaned the curvier of the two. "So powerful... so passionate..."

"Me please," pleaded the smaller sister. "I need your love so desperately, my guest!"

"Love wasn't part of the deal, but..." Heranes smirked, but she unbuckled her stola and stripped herself of her clothes, though both of the women hurried to help her. They moaned and cooed appreciatively at the sight of the busty and muscular figure. Their hands ran over Heranes' firm but soft figure, captivated as they squeezed the softness until they hit the solid muscle. Heranes often made a show of letting women feel her muscles, just to lift them off their feet by them. She had even made a deal with some of the brothels that she was allowed to sleep with as many of their girls as she could carry, to their giggling delight. Now those were trials she could get behind...

Heranes slid her fingers into the kneeling Hesperide's crotch, still nibbling at her breasts while her eyes rolled down to the one laying in the grass. She lifted one of her legs, rolling the slimmer fae sister onto her side and pressing her own warm womanhood right against hers. Heranes grinned (which bit lightly on the other's nipple) as the lusty girl wailed at the slightest touch of the crotches together. She started to grind her hips, rolling her pelvis up and down to rub against the lower sister's privates. She bit her lip and twitched slightly at Heranes' talent for tribadism, but she laid back submissively and continued to join in her sister's little choir of moans.

"There's a good girl. Haven't had a woman like me before, now have you?" Heranes boasted, finally parting her mouth from the appetizingly busty Hesperide. She rested a hand on the reclining fae's hip for leverage as she increased the pressure and force behind her thrusts, enough to rock the fae's body back and forth on the grass as she squeaked softly with her shock going through her clitoris.

"Oh, but what of me, my hero?" begged the other, getting Heranes to turn back and pulled her wet fingers from between her juicy thighs. Heranes took her by the hips as well, lifting her off the ground entirely and burying her face into her crotch. The thicker fae wrapped her legs around Heranes' head, moaning and humping as the redhead buried her lips and tongue into her privates. Her mouth held her labial lips apart while her tongue ran up and down in firm, long licks over her inner walls. Heranes would later recall that it tasted like the juice from an autumn fruit, like a kind of sweet cider. It just made her mouth attack it that much more hungrily.

The moans of her grateful lovers surrounded her, and Heranes was finding herself no longer so opposed to the pacifist route set for this adventure. If all the Hesperides were like this, she wouldn't have to raise a single fist. She'd simply have them all like a sexual buffet, then return victorious for one more celebratory evening with her open-minded wife.

She felt the near-identical partners' clitorises grow against her various delicates. Heranes' lips wrapped around and gently suckled on the bigger girl's bud while she adjusted her hips, driving the tip of her own stiffening clit along the slimmer fae's. Her strong hips proved more effective as she felt it before anything else. The skinny sister's loins tightened against hers a moment before she let out a gasp that turned into a noisy cry. She felt the warm juices leaking out of the smaller lover while her body shook violently. Heranes ran her hands over the orgasming partner's body while the sister mounted on her face seemed to stare on with her big dark eyes. She leaned over until her heavy breasts rested on Heranes' head, urging her to flick her tongue more rapidly over her damp folds. Another sudden shake and a desperate wail cued the next burst of her pussy's grateful juices, this time hitting Heranes' lips. She slurped and drank them up, noting the flavor was exceptionally strong. Not just like a cider, but a strong wine of which she was sure to greedily suck up every last drop.

Heranes lowered the one fae from her neck when she was done with her orgasm, then dismounted the other. "Now, as fun as that was," she grinned, wiping off her mouth and licking her fingers. "I think we had a bargain. Or was that less than satisfactory?"

The two guardians shook their heads with shocked, dopey grins on their faces. "Very good. Very very good," one panted. "You'll find the golden apples deeper in the forest. That way, perhaps a half mile."

"Great!" Heranes smiled, fetching her stola and sliding it back on. "Maybe I'll catch you on the way back for a repeat performance." She winked at the girls and went back to her crew. Clymene was smiling and blushing, and quickly took Heranes by the arm. She smelled of sex, and Heranes was far from opposed to that.

Deska yawned and took another swig of her jug before sitting up and cracking her back. "So? Had enough fun wastin' the daylight?"

Heranes smirked back at her. "Actually, my little booty call just got us the directions we need. That way, half a mile. Hardly a walk around the block for the likes of us." She patted Clymene on the ass, making her jump in surprise. "Come on. We can be back by dark if we hurry."

Hurried or not, they didn't reach the tree in a half mile. They even went on for the full mile just in case, but it was more of the same; fruit trees, nuts, pine trees, palm trees. Everything but golden apple trees.

"Those lying little sluts," Heranes cursed, turning and kicking one of the trees. She reached out to catch the coconut that fell before it could hit her head. She cracked it open with her bare hands and handing the halves off to Deska and Clymene, too angry to eat. They drank up the milk while she ranted. "I give them a fucking of a lifetime and they screw me over? I should make sure they never fuck again and tear out their-"

"They weren't wrong..." The women all looked up, seeing another dark-haired, dark-eyed, pale-skinned woman peering out at them from behind a tree. This one was at least wearing some sheer silks, though few and positively see-through on her slender frame. Heranes scowled at her and started to stomp towards her, but Deska grabbed her by the arm. Deska didn't stop her, but she did manage to be dragged behind.

"You! What in Athena's giant scarred ass is this?!" Heranes snapped accusingly.

"Calm your tits there, yer holiness," Deska urged. "She ain't done nothin'. It's a different one." Heranes took a deep breath and looked her over, seeing a few minor differences in her shape and size. She was shorter than either of the previous Hesperides, and had a small birthmark on her pale neck.

"My sisters did not lie, truly," the Hesperide went on. "The garden is meant to keep out intruders. Only we know the true direction to anything within its walls."

"So why didn't we find it?" Deska pressed. "Where's tha' apple compass when we need it?"

"The garden moves. When no one is looking, the locations will change. One could be lost forever in here without proper knowledge of where to go."

The warriors traded wary glances. "And you know where it is?" Clymene asked. The fairy woman nodded. "Then you will take us there."

The guardian hopped back skittishly and shook her head. "Oh no, no! I couldn't! We would be killed to dare enter such a sacred place! We risk much just by telling you where to go."

Deska grumbled, but Heranes patted her on the shoulder. "Look, we're deeper into the woods. That means we're closer. Hop, skip and a jump away from the tree. So... if I do you a favor, you do us a favor. Right, missy?"

"Well..." The pale girl smiled and leaned back on the tree. "What was it you were thinking of for a-" Heranes pressed her body into her, kissing her full on the mouth.

Deska raised her eyebrows and spun around her on heel. "That's it. This is the grossest adventure I've been on. I'll be behind somethin', drinkin' loudly 'til ye need me."

Deska put herself behind a rock and drank while Clymene stayed to watch again. Heranes made something of a meal of this one, so to speak; she gently rubbed down the Hesperide's groin for many minutes before mounting her face to crotch, each left to hungrily kiss and drink the other's womanhoods into orgasm. Clymene thought of it as if showing off for her wife, but she drank rather intensely from the fae's leaking pussy as if it were a baby’s bottle.

A few mewled directions and they were on their way again. Hurrying to keep from losing the location again, they made their right at the first cherry tree and went down the hill by the lemon trees... to find nothing new.

"Gods, does she think lemons are gold apples?" Deska groaned, running a hand through her curls.

Heranes shook her head. "This is getting... you know what? Let's just save the time." She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled sharply. "Hey! I know you're out there! We need another hespy out here!"

And so things went. Heranes would take aside a Hesperide or two, have more passionate, noisy sex, and then come back with fresh directions. To her credit, Heranes seemed quite invigorated from all the "exercise," quick to run off in the next direction as soon as they were done. Clymene had quietly gotten bored of it at this point, letting Heranes just enjoy herself while the amazon went to eat or rest. Deska just wanted no part of it to begin with, but she started to talk with Clymene to pass the time when they got to the sixth set of instructions. At least it would keep her mind off their being stuck on a wild poon chase.

"So what do ya see in her, anyway?" Deska asked, offering her jug of alcohol to Clymene. She had prepared for this trip to be long enough to pack several bottles. The amazon took it and drank deep before passing it back. Deska quietly raised her eyebrows to see the blonde barely flinch at her stronger stuff.

"I see a lot of woman," Clymene smiled, looking up through the thick treetops. "To an amazon, beauty is to be treated in equal parts to strength of arm. A strong warrior should find a similarly strong wife. On the other hand, the weaker of us are to seek as strong a wife as possible, so that they may be protected and still better themselves by aspiring to be worthy of their partner."

"So which did you want out of her?" Deska asked, quickly swigging from her returned drink.

"A little of both. When you two were so easily fighting off my squad, I felt a great tremble in my heart like I never have before. I thought that my ancestors were speaking through me, and that one way or another, my destiny would change forever that day. I feel that only great things will come from staying beside a woman such as Heranes."

"That, or gettin' yeself killed," Deska snorted.

"No finer way to die," Clymene said, still wearing her soft smile.

Heranes finally returned, giving a deep and content sigh. "Alright, ladies. Good news." The two sat up and readied their gear for another sprint. "I got some directions, but I think we should double check to be sure. Triangulate with two, maybe three of the bitches. Can't fail that way."

Her companions' expressions dropped. "Again!? Ye just...!" Deska ran her hands through her hair in frustration, gritting her teeth. "Listen, ye witless, half-arsed..." Deska paused long enough to look at Clymene. She looked a bit red in the face and not too happy herself, so she nodded in approval to let Deska keep going. "...overgrown ape of a woman. This ain't ye vacation. We've got places to go."

"Well, yea," Heranes shrugged, still smiling. "And I can fuck our way there. It's win win."

"Listen, ye're not thinkin' straight. You've got women on the mind, and if ye keep screwin' these girls, ye're gunna end up screwin' yeself right outta the trial."

"Des, despite being impressed by your wordplay," Heranes said levelly, pointing at the bandit queen. "You're not in charge of this quest shit. I am. And I'm getting us there."

"How?" Deska demanded, throwing up her arms. "How do you know that? Where's the damn golden apples then, lass?"

"The golden what now?"

The woods went quiet as the women stared blankly at each other. "Roight." Deska cracked her knuckles and stepped up to Heranes. "S'been a long time comin' anyway. I'll hold her down." Clymene nodded and scowled in Heranes' direction as she drew her knife.

"Oh, the fuck you will," Heranes snorted back. "Yobit-"

Deska interrupted the demigoddess with a flourish of one hand, smoothly thrusting her flask towards her. Her strong alcohol splashed out into her face, nothing blinding but enough to get Heranes to choke on the stuff, spitting out the strong-tasting liquid instead of her magic words. Deska drew her scimitar, but Heranes did the same with her fang sword. The blades rang out loudly as they connected, but the heavy sword flew out of Deska's hands. She ducked under another swing by the heroine, but Heranes used her free hand to grab her by the neck. Heranes lifted the bandit off her feet, but Deska jabbed out with two fingers to poke her in the eyes.

Heranes gave a sharp cry and dropped her ally. “Arghh! You’re dead, you cockblocking little shit!” Deska landed on all fours and threw herself into Heranes' legs. It hurt her shoulder to hit hard enough to take Heranes off her feet, but it worked. The husky redhead's back hit the grass, still ranting madly at Deska. “Get off! You’re not getting in between me and those perfect sluts!”

Heranes tried to sit back up, but Clymene suddenly stepped up and swung her bow, cracking it across the demigoddess' jaw. Heranes fell flat again, Deska sitting on her legs in an attempt to keep her down. Heranes got one free and kicked at the bandit's back, getting a few pained cries out of her but Deska stayed put.

"Do something! Quick!" Deska shouted in a cracking voice, just before she was blocked out from Heranes' sight and hearing. It was hard to follow when Clymene sat on her face and clamped her thighs around her head.

"Calm yourself, my wife. This isn't you," the amazon ordered. Her damp, warm crotch pressed into Heranes' face, grinding softly against her. The demigoddess' kicks slowed to a halt as her face breathed in and nuzzled against the familiar pussy. Heranes' breathing grew heavier, her breasts rising and falling steadily against Clymene's round backside.

"That's better," Clymene cooed, meeting Heranes' eyes as they gazed up from between the blonde's own powerful thighs. She stroked the crazed demigoddess' red mane before pulling aside the simple cloth undergarment, pressing the trimmed blonde bush and her warm, wet genitals into Heranes' face. The redhead heroine groaned and held Clymene's thighs, pulling her closer to her face. Clymene gave a soft gasp, but gestured for Deska to stay where she was. The bandit winced and turned her head away, but continued to hold down the moaning Heranes. Clymene reached behind her to hold onto the heaving breasts of her lover, grinding against her with her own soft, husky breathing.

"That's it, my love. You know me. You care for me, when no one thought you would. You are my strong and beautiful wife, and you (uhnnn) please me like no other." Clymene cooed her sweet nothings to Heranes, who seemed to calm from her thrashing but redirected that energy into lapping at her amazon bride's crotch like a hungry dog. The blonde couldn't last long like that, and soon she tensed and squirted over her lover's face in a shivering orgasm, her powerful thighs squeezing over Heranes' head as she made almost painful-sounding cries to the woods.

There was a moment of quiet. Then came the sensations and sounds of Heranes softly kissing Clymene's crotch. Heranes twitched suddenly and sputtered, letting out a few muffled protests. Clymene slid back slightly, ready to facesit Heranes again if she got out of line.

"Those little bitches! I'll kill 'em!" she snapped.

"You're not killing anyone, remember? No fighting," Clymene urged.

"I know, just... gods be fucked. Addictive cum. What kind of fucked up monsters would have that?!" Clymene sighed and slid off of her.

"Well if it worked, it ain't THAT fucked up," Deska muttered, carefully climbing off as well and rubbing her aching back. "Then again, ye're just about the nastiest lass I've ever set eyes on."

Heranes laughed and rubbed some sweat and love juices off her face. "Fair. I'm good though... I'm clean."

"Twas true love that saved you," Clymene smiled proudly, her chest puffing up a bit.

"Sure. True love's sex. That's what did it," Heranes chuckled. "I just can't stay mad at a pair of tits and ass like that." She stroked Clymene's cheek a moment before she sighed. "Sorry about that. Golden apples. Eyes on the prize, girls. I won't take any more dilly dallying out of you two. Now, we march. I've got one more good idea left in me."

When the next fae woman came into view, Heranes marched right up to her.

"Well hello, brave heroine! You've done well to come so deep into our gar-AHHHHHH!"

Heranse grabbed the Hesperide by the ankle, turning her completely upside down and dangling her over the ground. "Looking for the golden apples. Where?" she demanded.

"I-I-I don't know what you... put me down!"

Heranes gave a shake of her arm, bobbing the fairy woman's head so that it almost hit the ground before lifting her back up. "Nope. Done playing. Tell me where the gold stuff is, or I drive you so deep into the ground that they'll think your ass is a lawn ornament."

"Just over that hill! You can't miss it!" the keeper blurted. Heranes flipped her back upright, patting her on the head and moving on wordlessly.

"Of course, ye couldn't have hurt 'er if ya wanted to," Deska added when they were out of earshot. "Else there would be no point in finding th' apples in the first place."

"Well yea, but she doesn't have to know that. Going aggro on somebody doesn't count as hitting them."

"Well, any thoughts about how ye were going to sweet talk yer way past the dragon?" Heranes gave her a puzzled look. "Hera's hundred-headed fuckin' monster that guards the tree? ...ye dinnae know about the dragon, did you?"

"I mean, it's kind of a minor part of the story, isn't it?" Heranes muttered.

"Oh for the... it was Hera's way of makin' sure the help didn't steal anythin'. Ye know? Exactly what you're tryin' ta do right now!"

"Damn... I always forget that part."

"Well, how did Hercules do it?" Cylmene pried.

Heranes snorted in distaste. "He pussed out and made Atlas do it for him. But considering I ripped off that guy's finger, I don't think he'll be onboard for that again. Wait a sec... how long has this garden been here, anyway?"

"It was a wedding gift for Zeus and Hera, so... trillions of years? Somethin' like that."

"And the Hespers can't get close to it?" Deska shrugged, and Heranes smiled. "I think this is going to be a lot easier than people think."

Heranes made rather quick work of the monster. When the keepers of the garden can't get within reach of the tree, the monster was far from friendly and never left sight of it. That did not make for good feeding habits, and the thing looked skin and bones when Clymene scouted it from high in the trees.

All Heranes had to do was hunt down and cook a deer before hurling it out into the creature's line of sight (which was pretty massive for how many heads it had). The dragon was all but tripping over itself to have its first meal in centuries, the heads fighting over themselves just to have some meat that wasn't just a snooping divine gardener. The heads were too busy fighting over which of them would eat it to give a shit about the tree that didn't go anywhere for hundreds of years, letting Heranes duck in and out in a few simple seconds.

Heranes returned to her wife and friendly prisoner with a pair of gleaming gold apples in one hand as she pumped her fist. "Fuck yea! Hercules a confirmed pussy! Now let's get back out of here before my addiction to bitches come back." The demigoddess pinched Clymene's ass. "Woops. Too late." The amazon squeaked and jumped before she punched Heranes in the arm hard enough to sting.

King Palthas was handed the golden apple by his aide. He looked it over and tapped a fingernail on it, getting a satisfying plinking noise from the metallic outside.

"Everything check out?" Heranes called up to him. He nodded and set it on a table near his throne as a shiney little setpiece. "Excellent work, I must say."

"Well, it got me laid, so felt like fair payback. So what's the good word?"

"Well I've consulted with Zeus' prophets..."

"Ooh boy, here it comes..."

"And he is sending you into Hades."

"YES! Called it!" Heranes turned and held out a hand. The guard that had escorted her into the room handed over the few coins he'd bet her. When Palthas raised an eyebrow she explained. "I told him that Zeus was going to repeat his boring ass. So what? Am I getting Cerberus again, like Hercules did?"

"Not quite. Hades has agreed to grant you safe passage through the underworld, where you will be boxing with his champion."

"So I'm punching a ghost? I guess that's a good setup to the big finale of my story."

"He did not mention who it was. Just that you will meet with Hades and he will tell you whom you'll be facing."

Heranes cracked her neck and nodded. "Got it. You two can stay put."

"Wait, what?" Clymene turned.

"Not complainin', but what are ye talkin' about, lass?"

"Going to the land of the dead? You guys feel like going in there when you're not even a little immortal?" The two went quiet. "That's what I thought. I've got stamina out the ass and I could punch a hole to the surface if I felt like it. You guys are a huge risk down there."

Clymene nodded. "I'm sorry I am not strong enough. But do not go alone. Take the belt of Hippolyta. If nothing else, it will make a bargaining chip if things grow dire."

Deska sighed and patted herself down before she handed off a small flask. "Somethin' to remember me by if it gets lonesome down there."

"What, in Hades? I hear it's like a regular tropical island down there. Just with more skeletons than sexy natives." She grabbed both of the girls in a bearhug and squeezed them tight. Deska grunted but patted her on the back while Clymene kissed her wife on the cheek.

"I just wouldn't drink that while you were down there," King Palthas added dryly.

"Why not?" Heranes asked, turning curiously.

"Drink. And eat. Nothing," Palthas emphasized sternly. "If you listen to anything I say, listen to that, Lady Heranes. You're an offensive brute of a woman, but you're far more entertaining to me alive and well."

"Yea, you're a real bleeding heart," Heranes sighed. "Seeya back in the land of the living in no time. Promise."

Trial 11: defeat the champion of Hades in a boxing match

Two left. It was enough to get Zeus off his giant golden throne for reasons other than a booty call. Two trials left and Heranes would be permitted to become a goddess. It wasn't unheard of, really. There had been a handful who had ascended to such a position in the past, even besides his son. This one... well, it felt like a real smack in the face for his wife to try and outdo him like this so openly. Zeus, like most Greek men at the time, had some pretty strong opinions about women, and they were not about empowerment and the right to vote. So he left Olympus to go seek out some help on the matter.

"We need something bigger," Zeus pressed, pacing nervously in Hades' chambers. The shadow-clad figure of his brother still seemed indifferent on the matter. "A titan wasn't enough. Forces of nature won't stop her. I need you to intervene."

"Are you kidding me?" Hades chortled. "Brother, I am the god of the underworld. No mortal could dream to beat me, and that was part of the rules we all agreed on. No one cheats death, and death does not cheat them."

Zeus frowned, but nodded. "Then challenge her to your best. The finest mortal that has entered your realm."

Hades sighed. "You do know that Cerberus just hasn't been the same since your boy took him outside in your last little bet. But I'll see what I can do." Anything to get his elder brother out of his hair, really. Zeus vanished back to his mountain throne as Hades weighed his options and considered his monsters.

"Something wrong, my love?" asked a sweet voice out in his hall.

"Oh right," Hades thought. "Her..."

Heranes found that there were two ways to get to the underworld. One was to die, the other was a cave that led deep into the earth. She decided to try the cave. It was easier to get back that way, if nothing else.

She wasn't far into the tunnel when she heard growling and the scratching of claws on stone. Of course, everyone knew about Cerberus. He was practically a celebrity among the monsters. A huge, black, three-headed dog, its collar made of giant, dead snakes. It was a real sight to see, towering over even someone as big as Heranes. Its three huge, fanged heads devoured something from three bowls. Each was labeled "Lefty," "Righty," or "Middley," and whatever was inside the bowls left behind a lot of bone fragments.

The dog saw her and shuffled back, looking more fearful than territorial at the sight of another demigod. Heranes had liked dogs, so it pulled her heart strings a bit. But Palthas had given her a sealed letter, still chilly from the underworld, with the password. Heranes opened it and skimmed over the words carefully. She cleared her throat and chimed to the beast "Who's a good boys?!"

Cerberus' six ears perked up and turned to her, wagging a tail that left cracks in the wall where it struck. "Who's a good boys!?" she repeated in baby talk, patting her hands on her thick thighs. The three-headed monster bounded over to her with thundering paws as she grabbed it by a muzzle, scratching between one set of ears before getting the other with another hand. "Yeaa, there you go, big guy!" Its third head barked as she moved to pet it as well. The second one whined to have the hand leave its scalp. Heranes sighed and kicked off a scandal, using her foot to pet it while the other two got the hands.

"Look, guys. You're adorable and all. My mom had a pomeranian that wasn't half the dog you were. It technically wasn't even a third the dog you were! But I got business with your boss. Promise I'll stop by when I come back, okay?"

The monster whined but lowered their heads. She gave them each a quick kiss on the head before heading further down the tunnel.

Heranes noted that the world of Hades wasn't as bad as everyone said. Mostly it was just bleak and cold. There were some demon-looking sorts around, but they were just loitering among the passing dead more than anything. It made Heranes chuckle to imagine that Hades had once tormented the dead, but then decided he was far too short-handed when he realized just how many dead people there were. Now the spirits looked either bored or just plain unresponsive. The cryptic pointing of the demons proved more helpful than the wandering, staring spirits.

Heranes climbed over a lot of cold stone and boney dust before anyone of interest caught her eye. She slid down a short slope before spotting what appeared to be another human being. The woman seemed more defined than the others that she'd seen so far. She was neither a flickering shadow nor a pale specter; she essentially looked like a human being. There were thin black lines seemingly painted around her eyes and down her lip, but it wasn't clear if that was part of her underworldly appearance or just her makeup. She had sharp, pointed features and straight, shiny black hair that ended perfectly level with her chin. She wore a high-cut sort of skirt with slits that ran up to the very edges of her hips, showing off plenty of her round, caramel-colored hips and thighs, and a low top did the same with her hefty breasts. In some parts, she had a look of truly classical beauty. Heranes thought it made her look like a skank.

"What in the... well, in the here are you doing here?" the strangely lively woman replied as she braced a hand on her hip in a standoffish posture.

"Not a lot. Going for a stroll. Seeing about finding the champion of the underworld." Heranes rubbed her hands over her chilly arms. All Hercules had done was drag Cerberus out of the underworld. She had been down here for hours, and she had a hunch that it was only Clymene reminding her to bring the magic belt that kept her lasting this long. She normally hated the cold, but her body just kept making more heat. She was surprised to find that she even getting numb yet.

"Ah, then look no further." The busty woman held out her arms in an expectant fashion. "I am Cleopatra, the queen of Egypt who embraced death and remained beautiful even in my demise. As you can see."

Heranes looked her over and shrugged. "Alright. That's cool."

Cleopatra hesitated. "Well, surely you've heard of me before."

"Not really. I'm Greek, not Egyptian."

Cleopatra scowled. "Wait, Greek? But that's pretty much just Rome, right? I dated a Roman for once."

"Sorta. One conquered the other’s asses at some point. I'm not great at history, though. More of a myth gal myself."

"But I was known worldwide! Wars were fought over my beauty!"

"So you won some kind of a Egypt's Top Model show or something? Look, I'm kind of busy. I've got a deity to become, and I'm only mostly sure I can get back out of here. And you can SEE what this cold is doing to my nips!" She held up her hands long enough for Cleopatra to see the tips of her hard nipples poking at the fabric of her stola.

Cleo folded her arms under her bulging chest. "You get used to it. Imagine my surprise. I expected Anubis to bring my spirit to have my heart weighed against a feather. Instead I have a shadowy man tell me 'No, you just go here."

"Bet on the wrong horse, huh? Doesn't look so bad, though. At least they let you keep your emo makeup."

"Excuse me!?" Cleopatra brought her hands back to her hips and marched up to the redhead. "I was the definition of beauty! Young men threw themselves to crocodiles when they realized they would not earn my love! Some of the most powerful men in the world kissed my feet... nay, my PERFECT TITS to earn so much as a glance or a kind word from me. Wars were fought over this ass!"

Heranes met her eyes as Cleo came close enough that their breasts pressed together. "Congratulations," Heranes sighed. "You were history's biggest skank. Your mom's mummy must be super proud."

Cleopatra's ghost smacked her across the face, leaving Heranes more surprised that she felt it than genuinely hurt. But it did still smart, and she was not in a good mood either. She backhanded Cleo to the ground, where the queen of the Nile kicked for the Greek's crotch. The heroine expected as much and caught the leg by the ankle, swinging Cleo around to smash through a random stalactite. The Egyptian queen groaned and hung limply in Heranes' grip.

"There. Looking to be a little more civil so I can-?"

Cleopatra suddenly grabbed her by the leg and bit into Heranes' calf. The Greek shouted and let go as they both fell to the cold stone of the ground. Cleopatra crawled on top of her, the women's full chests meeting once again as she pulled the mass of red hair in front of her.

"You mouthy little whore!" Cleopatra snarled, banging Heranes' head against the ground. She was cut off when Heranes grabbed and squeezed one of her breasts, crushing the soft flesh between strong fingers getting a shrill cry from the queen.

"Better than being the biggest whore in history!" Heranes snapped back. She screamed as Cleopatra brought her long nails to Heranes' face and scratched at over her skin. The redheaded heroine turned her head and winced to protect her eyes from the raving Egyptian, finally driving a cross into Cleo's chin that sent her rolling off. Heranes ran a hand over her face, feeling the sting of the red lines left by Cleo's nails. She looked over to see the queen dizzily righting herself, her jaw bent at an unusually sharp angle to one side.

Heranes smirked at the sight of the bigmouth's broken jaw, but then frowned to see her rise up and the jawbone righting itself with a few noisy crunches. "You aren't leaving here alive," Cleo snarled.

"Well neither are you. I can promise that," Heranes snorted dismissively. Of course. She was long dead, so how were normal punches going to keep her down?

Both women charged and grabbed their opponent by the hair. Heranes forced Cleopatra's back into a slab of stone, cracking it under the force of her charge. The dead queen ignored it and snaked one hand under Heranes' stola, jamming her nails into her breast and pinching them at her nipples.

"OWW! SHIT! I warned you about the nips, you sandy cunt!" Heranes screamed, quickly kneeing Cleopatra in the crotch and hurling her to the ground by her hair. She drove a few punches like piledrivers into Cleopatra's face, distorting her features wildly before they healed back into place a few seconds later.

"Oh, shit! Guys! Catfight!" called one of the shadowy demons, various spirits and ghastly figures appearing a safe distance away to watch without interrupting. Cleo went on thrashing and clawing at Heranes before she threw a kick into Heranes' ribs. It stung the demigoddess, but Cleo's leg fell back limply. Her spoiled and catty body was no match for Heranes' outlandish durability and solid abs.

Heranes managed to throw Cleo on her side, ending up with her thick arm wrapped around the Egyptian's neck. As her leg popped back into its proper place, Cleo bit down on Heranes' muscular forearm. The Greek shouted in pain again as Cleo turned to face her, but she caught the queen by her top and pulled. It tore the clothes from her body, baring her supposedly war-inducing tits to the spectators.

One of the succubi nudged a cheering incubi enviously. "What? I'm married, not dead. No offense, Isaac," he added to the nearby specter.

"That was my ONE top down here!" Cleopatra shrieked as Heranes took the garment's ends in both hands. Cleo tackled onto Heranes, and when she failed to push her back she clawed down her thigh and between her legs. Heranes gave her own shrill cry as her womanhood was scratched and pinched, but she succeeded in getting the top around Cleo's neck and pulling it like a collar on... well, on a rabid bitch.

"You can't choke the dead, you fat sow!" Cleo hissed at her.

"Yea, see?" Heranes panted as she stepped backward, dragged Cleopatra with her. "When you say shit like that, I find it hard to think you're supposed to be the sexiest person alive. So let's just... put a pin on that conversation, huh?"

Heranes swung Cleopatra over her shoulder, whipping her body overhead and bringing her down to skewer the queen on top of a sharp stalagmite. Cleo gave a squeak of pain, but it hardly slowed her as she reached out to try and claw at Heranes. The demigoddess just stepped back a pace, leaving her well out of reach and Cleo with a huge stone spike poking through her. No blood or guts since she was dead, but still didn't look pleasant.

"What's going on over here?" came a grim, deep, but loud voice. The various onlookers visibly tensed while Heranes sighed, hooked a thumb on her belt, and turned to face Hades. The towering god appeared to be literally cloaked in shadows, making it hard to read any distinct features besides a pale humanoid.

"Your champion wanted to start some shit." Heranes jerked a thumb back at the skewered and cursing Cleopatra. "You mind if I did a little pre-gaming on her?"

Hades made a noise equivalent to a frown. "That is not my champion."

"She called herself champion of the underworld," Heranes corrected before glaring back at Cleopatra.

"Others call me that!" Cleo insisted

"Nobody calls you that," Hades corrected plainly. "My apologies. I didn't expect you to arrive so quickly."

Heranes sniffed indignantly. "Yea, I'm a real gogetter." She tugged on the top of her stola to show the reddening scratch marks on her upper breast. "Happen to have anything for these?"

"I do. Come with me." Hades turned in a curious gesture that seemed to be either a fine trick of his cloak or had nothing to do with a owning a spine.

"Great. God magic?"

"You wish," Hades said in a low chuckle and led her to his wife. "Herbs and bandages. Death does not do much for healing." Heranes followed him away from the scene, the rest of the souls and monsters wandering off. It was the most exciting thing to happen in the underworld for a long time now, so just all of the dead showed up to watch. They'd be talking about it for ages to come, but no one would remember clearly enough to recall one extra figure among them. Before anyone could recognize her, she sprang up to the shadows of the rocky ceiling, climbing quickly between the stalactites.

In short, Hades was once a decent but lonesome guy. People respected him, and he tended to play by the rules, but people with "of death" in their titles didn't get the ladies. There was a bit of kidnapping and some hospitality and some semantics about what exactly qualified as food before Persephone agreed to be the bride of Hades and live with him half of the year round. Heranes was told that it was why they had Winter, but the demigoddess always felt leery of that one. She imagined that there was snow before there were gods.

But all things considered, Persephone was a very happy woman. She lived like a queen (of the underworld) and got to hear a lot of interesting stories (about how people had died). And here she was, meeting more interesting people as she smiled and helped wrap up Heranes' wounds. Some herbs and creams had helped with the stinging and swelling, so apart from a bit of stiffness, she was feeling much better.

"Get a lot of plants down here in Hades, do you?" Heranes pried.

"Gifts from my mother," Persephone corrected. "Goddess of the harvest. She always makes sure I have enough." She seemed young, but it was hard to pinpoint her age beyond that. Somewhere in her twenties was the best Heranes could guess, but things always got weird with gods, especially with the god of death around. She was pretty and petite, so probably the least chesty queen or goddess Heranes had met. She had chin-length, sandy-blonde hair and a black robe of her own, but it was clearly just silks and not liquid shadow. You could tell by the way she'd sewn some bright pink trim onto the edges. She walked around barefoot and seemed to be smiling whenever something didn't distract her. Heranes could see what drew the god to marry her, and while marriage wasn't exactly something to keep her away from unsatisfied housewives, Persephone seemed plenty happy here, and it was probably best to not bother the god of death's little spot of joy.

Heranes rolled her shoulder, finding it just about fully functional. "So do you know who I'm up against? I'm supposed to meet Hades' champ, but then Cleo had to be a bitch about it..."

"Oh, that's me."

"What, really?!" Heranes grinned. "They finally upgraded me to fighting a goddess? No more demi for me!"

"Ohhh, no. I'm no goddess," Persephone insisted. "I'm just a mortal."

"But you and him..."

"God and mortal."

"But you said mother..."

Persephone chuckled patiently like she got it all the time. "Word gets around. I only married into godhood. I stay this young because... well, age and death."

"Huh," Heranes mused. "Not even half god, huh?"

Persephone shook her head, and giggled rather than chuckled. "Not a drop. No magic, no super strength, nothing like that. There's talk about Zeus being my father, but that's mostly just when mom's drunk. I went through her dresser when I was a teen and found the adoption papers."

"So why did Hades pick you to fight?" Heranes pried, sitting up and pulling her stola back on.

Persephone shrugged. "Maybe he thought the underworld would drain you of your strength faster. I mean, he's a sweet guy. You just had to get past all the towers of skulls and gaping black abysses all over the place. I don't mind them, really, I actually think it's all kind of stylish, in a gothy kind of way. I'm sure he has his reasons."

Heranes quietly gauged her. Either Persephone was getting in way over her head or she was also the queen of poker faces. "Well, you two seem cute and all, but hope he knows what's he doing."

Persephone nodded and wiped off her hands one a cloth. "Just go a little easy on me. Mortal, after all."

Heranes was given a set of gloves and the ring setup for them in a private chamber. Apart from being a lot of black and deep, dark blues, it was essentially the same as the one in Amazonia. A few torches gave off plenty of light, somehow without any fire involved. Heranes was given a set of bright red boxing gloves, but was allowed to wear her usual clothes. It was a small favor, but she appreciated it after her last experiences in the ring.

"Are you familiar with boxing then, Lady Heranes?" Persephone offered. She was in a short skirt and a loose silky top, with mint green gloves that combined into what simply shouted "amateur" to Heranes.

"Yea, basically," she smirked. "I'm just glad this is the kind with the gloves." Persephone looked at her quizzically. "Long story. Ask Helen of Troy some time. ...when she dies, I guess."

"Oh, I will," Persephone said with a nod.

"Damn," Heranes thought. "She is really good at making me not want to punch her."

Hades was looming near ringside (or maybe he was just standing rather than looming; it's hard to tell with a shadow man like that). "We'll be using kickboxing rules. Kicking and legs will be allowed, with an uninterrupted either ten seconds spent on the mats meaning defeat. Interference with a downed opponent will interrupt the count."

"Fine by me." Heranes nodded, raising her gloved fists. "Let's dance."

"It's not dancing, Lady Heranes. It's boxing."

"OH MY GODS! Stop being so fucking adorable and fight me!"

"You may begin," Hades said a bit louder without really raising his tone of voice.

Heranes came out, not bothering much with maneuvering just yet. She wanted to see what it was that was supposed to make Persephone the strongest thing that Hades had at his disposal. She kept her guard loose, but Persephone's fist shot quickly between her gloves. It thumped against her nose, getting a soft grunt from Heranes. She took a step back to regroup, but Persephone moved quickly to match her pacing and position. Her footwork clung to Heranes' and kept up her offensive position, thumping two more blows into Heranes' chest and then a big swing to the side of her head. Heranes had to duck and put up her guard to stop that one, letting it bounce off of her thick arms.

"Oh no," Heranes thought as she piece it together. "Don't tell me Hades just likes seeing his wife get beat up! She's an absolute jobber!" She seemed to have perfect form and a lot of practice, but the punches had barely registered to the demigoddess. She sidestepped another body blow from the queen of the underworld, throwing a straight into Persephone's chest. She brought up her arm to try to deflect it, but she flew back halfway across the ring until she caught herself on the ropes, coughing and rubbing her chest. Heranes had knocked the wind out of her with one casual shot!

"Impressive," Hades' voice mused grimly. Or maybe he couldn't muse in any other way...

"You're not bad yourself," Heranes complimented a bit half-heartedly. "You've got more technique than most of the gladiators I've taken on."

"I have a lot of time to practice down here." Persephone smiled a bit weakly as she rubbed her chest, the bruise already visible on her pale cleavage. Still, she took up her expert fighting stance. "Hades brings me all the scrolls I wish, and there's lots of dead fighters to train with."

"Yea, that's not ominous at all," Heranes sighed. "Just uh... keep that guard up."

"Keep up your own." Persephone smiled pleasantly and darted back in for another attack. Heranes blocked a few more head shots before Persephone kicked her in the side of her knee. Heranes' joint briefly gave out and dropped to the mats. A hard right caught Heranes full on the cheek, and as Heranes' glove went up to protect it, a kick caught her from the other side. Heranes was knocked to the mats, but more off balance than actually hurt. Heranes growled as Hades' voice boomed out a "1... 2..."

That was all it took for Heranes to get back to her feet. "Sneaky little..." The demigoddess growled under her breath, throwing a sudden uppercut into Persephone's stomach as she rose. The underworld denizen grunted and was lifted off her feet by the blow, doubling over and clutching her stomach. Heranes threw another, but Persephone tilted herself away at the last minute. She grabbed Heranes' extended arm and whirled behind her, pulling the arm back behind her shoulder in a quick and tight submission hold.

"Submissions do not count as a victory," Hades added calmly. "But they can be effective nonetheless."

"Don't count on it," she growled, flexing her arm and pulling it forward. The firm but simple gesture flung Persephone over her shoulder, and Persephone bounced off the mats with a grunt that made Heranes herself wince. Persephone pushed herself up on one elbow, but before she could properly rise, Heranes followed and pressed a foot on her chest. Persephone went right back on the mat, staring up at her as the demigoddess held back enough to keep from crushing her. It was becoming painfully obvious how easy it would have been.

"Come on. Joke's over. Just stay down," Heranes warned sternly. "You're not-"

Persephone suddenly twisted and kicked into the back of the leg that wasn't pinning her down. Heranes stumbled forward right as the underworld queen slipped out from under her opponent's feet. She rose while Heranes fell and an echoing thud rang out as her glove caught redhead right in the face.

Heranes saw stars for a moment as she staggered back, her turn to grab onto the ropes to steady herself. She sniffed awkwardly and saw blood on her clothes, making her rub an arm across her face and come back with a red streak.

"Sassy little bitch," Heranes muttered, unsure whether she was just angry, or angry but impressed. "Alright, now I'm..."

Persephone had darted in to engage her again, slamming Heranes in the side of the head with another blow. Heranes' head whipped from the hit, but she raised her arm to stop the other dead in its tracks.

"...pissed." Heranes brought back her other arm and hammered it into Persephone's chest. Her breasts squashed into her chest before bouncing back, her body flung across the entire ring, Her top tore open from the force of the impact, and as her back hit the ropes, she landed hard enough to bounce back like an oversized slingshot. Heranes just hit her with another punch to the head before her feet even hit the ground, sending her rocketing into one of the corners of the ring. Persephone coughed as she reeled in the corner, now sporting a huge black eye and a matching bruise growing between her tits.

"I know I said I'd go easy on you, but you're asking for it," Heranes grunted, cracking her neck on one side as she moved in. Persephone looked like she was struggling to stay up at all, let alone mount any sort of offense. Heranes slugged Persephone in the stomach, lifting her off her feet for a moment as Hades just watched in silence.

Heranes backed up again and took a deep breath as she sized up her squirming opponent. She braced herself for a finishing blow when a slender figure dropped from the ceiling, landing hard enough between the two combatants that it shook the ring.

"I'm here for the challenge!" it declared in a clipped Eastern accent.

Heranes was not one for profiling, but at a glance, the girl looked quite a bit like a monkey. She was certainly human, or at least mostly, but it was hard to avoid the resemblance. It wasn't the face, really, but more an issue with lean muscles and the hair. It was kind of puffy around her cheeks and button nose, and it had this kind of dark brown coloring that made her think of monkeys. Also, it was all over her tail.

The girl had a youthful look about her, and a lean build that further leant itself to the monkey idea. She was dressed in an exotic sort of red fabric, forming a sort of short dress that ended just halfway to her knees and opened in the center like a vest that exposed the insides of her ripe, round breasts. She wore sandals and a few plates of armor along one arm and her shoulder, but they looked light enough to be practically decorative. She was about a head shorter than Heranes, and even then she stooped and slouched a lot to make herself look even tinier.

When you got over the whole monkey theme, the eye went to her staff. It was some kind of iron with little gold rings along the edges, and shone to indicate extensive polishing. The monkey girl gave it a little twirl before she held it upright next to her. Heranes had to assume the beaming girl didn't mean to poke a hole straight through the mats with this action, and that she was just running with it when the heavy staff did so anyway.

"Wait, what? Challenge?" Heranes asked with a baffled look on her face. "I'm doing a trial."

"Excellent! I love trials!"

"That's not... bitch, no. We're boxing."

"That's ridiculous. I don't see any boxes." The newcomer leaned on the pole and scratched her leg with her other foot, Heranes noting an usual amount of control over her toes.

"I'm not even going to justify that with a response. This is mine. Me vs the champion of Hades. So fuck off, you little troll."

"Oho, a champion! Then you must be strong as well! Very good!" The monkey girl twirled her staff overhead and swung it for Persephone. Heranes grabbed the back end of the staff, if a bit clumsily with her boxing gloves on. She stopped it a few inches from connecting with Persephone's head, but she could feel a heavy shift in the air around her. A strong breeze tussled Heranes' hair from the speed of the blow, and it felt like the stick was more like a stone pillar than a thin chunk of metal.

The fuzzy-haired girl looked over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows at Heranes. "Oh, so you managed to stop Ruyi Bang! No small feat!" The intruder pulled the staff from Heranes' gloved grip and rested it on her shoulder. At least she was ignoring Persephone for now. "I don't think I've run into someone quite as strong as you before."

"Awesome," Heranes said with a frown. "I don't think I've ever met anyone as obnoxious as you. Who in the cyclops' nut are you, and what are you doing here besides ruining my day?"

The girl tugged on the collar of her vest, making her slightly smaller breasts bounce perkily. "I'm surprised you don't recognize me. I am Wunu Wangkong, hero of the East. And you have already met my magic staff, Ruyi Bang."

Heranes started to speak a few times, just to find another problem with that and stop herself. "Okay, so first off... no. Never heard of your big bullshit name. Me? Heranes. Short and simple, little bit of an accent. Second, it’s heroine, not hero. Third, nobody names their staffs. That's stupid. I've got a magic sword, but I just call it my sword, cuz I'm not a tool. And last of all, your name is Wang, and that's hilarious."

"It is not!" Wunu objected. "My name means 'great monkey princess of the world!"

"Oh it does not! It means Wunu Dick-Monkey and you know it!"

"It does so! My father was Sun Wukong, the monkey king, and he gave me my name!"

Heranes hesitated before pointing at Wunu warily. "Your father, the king of monkeys, named you 'princess?"

Wunu frowned, but didn't argue. "My father was a great warrior. He was not very clever."

"Yea, well it runs in the family. Look, I'd love to go into how your fucked up beastiality family tree went, but I'm busy. So scram. I have to finish this."

"Never!!!" Wunu barked, raising her staff and aiming its tip at Heranes. "Wunu never backs down from a challenge."

"NOBODY fucking challenged you! The hell is your deal?!" Heranes snapped, stepping towards her. Wunu moved with surprising speed as the demigoddess reached out to palm the smaller girl by the head. Wunu whirled past her hand, swinging the staff to hit Heranes in the abdomen. She grunted and doubled over, surprised at how much it hurt compared to Persephone's recent punches. Wunu whipped it back upward to smack her across the jaw, making Heranes stagger back a step.

"Haha! Too slow, fat Heranes!" the Chinese demi-legend taunted. "I have fought mountains faster than that."

"And I fought an earthquake," Heranes growled, suddenly kicking Wunu in the stomach. She went tumbling like a bowling ball and slammed into a corner, shaking her head quickly and recovering.

"Amazing! Finally, a worthy opponent!" Wunu started to rise, but shadows grew around her and lashed around her limbs, holding her down. She squirmed and kicked, but any dark appendages she broke were instantly replaced.

"I'm sorry," Hades mused grimly. "But we were in the middle of something. And I'm curious how you got in here?"

Wunu grunted and struggled before she squared her jaw. "I jumped."

"Into Hades?"

"Of course."

"You're underground, you little pest."

"Yes, but if I leap far enough, then-"

"Stopped caring." Hades' shadows started to wrap around her and drag her inside. "If you wish to be in the land of the dead, you may stay there."

"Hey! Stop that! I'm Wunu Wangkong, and no prison can hold me!" she defied boldly. "My father warred with the heavens!"

"You're not in heaven," Hades stated plainly just before the shadows swallowed her up and Wunu vanished from sight. He sighed and turned back to the fighters. "Were you ready to proceed?"

"Yes," muttered Persephone, raising her gloves again and facing Heranes. The demigoddess eyes her warily, her nerves still grated from the monkey princess and looking for something to let it out on. She stepped up to the bride of Hades' slowly. Persephone threw a hook at her, but Heranes lazily blocked it and sent a glove into her head.

...as lightly as possible. She nudged Persephone over, who landed on the mats with a cute little squeak. Heranes folded her arms and looked down at the bruised and panting underworlder, meeting her eyes. Persephone gave her a weary smile before she closed her eyes and let herself drift off. Hades didn't bother with the count as a gong rang out to signal Heranes' win.

"Excellent. Especially with the interference," Hades noted, stepping up to the ring. The laces on Heranes' gloves undid themselves as she shook them off, and a shadow grew around Persephone that lifted her over the ropes and carried her off.

"She going to be okay?" Heranes asked, feeling out of breath as she knelt down and rested an arm on a knee.

"Definitely. Trust me. I'd know."

"Well then, smart guy," Heranes pried as she thumbed some more blood from her nose. "Why'd you pick her? What made her so tough? Don't you have tons of dead warriors down here?"

"Of course. And how many of them do you think you would beat in a duel?"

Heranes gave a loud laugh. "All of em."

"Precisely. Zeus may not have considered it, but I wanted to test your empathy. She was not my most dangerous asset, but she was skilled enough to try you without allowing you to go all out."

Heranes scratched her head as she climbed out of the ring and stood by Hades. "Huh. That's... oddly nice of you? Why would you do that?"

"If you are to become a goddess, we do not need another thoughtless brute. And unlike Zeus and his kind on the mountaintop, I live here among the people. I care for my wife and see that she's taken care of, and do the best that I can for her; I leave her untouched by my powers, and see that she remains healthy and alive, even in the land of the dead. She brings such cheer and..."

"Life?"

"Yes, that's the word. She brings life to the place. A bit of color, like her mother would have."

"So let me guess," Heranes chuckled. "The dog bowls for 'Middley' and them up front?"

Hades laughed loudly. "Oh yes. We had such a fight over that one. Congratulations, though. I can send for Cerberus to see you back out."

"I’ve got one more question before you do," Heranes interrupted. "That was all to test if I could hold back. So what if I didn't? I'd have failed the trial?"

"Oh my, no. I'd just have killed you on the spot for murdering my wife."

"Oh. Sooooo when’s that puppy coming my way?"

Heranes returned to Daran, not even through the front gates when she was a lion pounced on her. "Aghh!" Heranes yelped as she was pinned down. "No! Nestei! Get off, your fat ass off me! I don’t care if you smell dog on me!" Heranes laughed and ruffled the affectionately licking lioness' head before shoving her off. Deska and Clymene came out to meet her, the amazon tackling and hugging her wife just like the lioness.

Deska stuck with a polite nod and a little toast of the mug in her hand. "Bout time ye showed yer sorry arse around here."

Heranes smiled and kissed her wife before lifting her up over her shoulder and giving her treasure of an ass a quick swat. "Great to see you too, Dessy. How'd you girls know I was coming?"

"Hades sent us a messenger," Clymene explained, kicking her feet excitedly. "He said you were coming."

"Talkin' corpse and everythin'," Deska said with a shake of her head. "Gave me a good reason to drink for once."

"Well if you need a reason, tag along!" Heranes threw an arm over her shoulder and pulled her towards the gates. "I'm one trial away from becoming a bonafide goddess. I'm about to get drunk with my besties before I get drunk with Dionysus, and party with my lion before I rock out with Minerva. Shit's going to be bitchin', you two wait and see."

Clymene's smile weakened a bit behind Heranes' head, but the demigoddess saw her kicking legs droop. "And I'm getting my wife and friends the VIP treatment. No way I'm forgetting a bunch of sexy idiots like you."

Heranes partied through the night. King Palthas had his last trial in mind, so he rested easy in his royal bedchambers. He imagined she'd accomplish it anyway, he was content with how things had gone so far. Hera was simply delighted, talking up her daughter to the rest of the gods. They were entertained to no end by her impressive feats and sexual exploits, and Hera was pleased when they asked "Oh, like Hercules?", since it let her reply with "Yes, but even better!"

Zeus was the stick in the mud of the whole thing. Even Hercules was listening to her tales with rapt attention (and doing a lot of inappropriate touching, but that was just sort of cool up on Olympus). Zeus was as petty and temperamental as the rest of the gods, and so he stepped aside from the lavish party to set his followers into action.

"Ah, Heranes!" Palthas welcomed as she marched into his throne room. "How did you sleep after your little visit to Hades?"

"Drunkly!" Heranes laughed. "Thanks for askin'!"

"Splendid!" The crooked king lounged back into his throne and steepled his fingers. "Then you can sleep it off on your last journey with me. You'll be venturing off to the Mountains of Gaia. There sleeps Phoebe, one of the ancient titans."

"Heh. Phoebe. That's a cute name."

"The only cute thing about her, I'm afraid. As one of the smaller of the titans, she only escapes the wrath of the gods by staying hidden away in her mountain lair where none dare tread."

"So I've got to kill the titan? That's it?"

"Oh of course not! That's a task worthy of a god. You, dear Heranes, must steal the bra of the titan." Heranes opened her mouth when the king suddenly thrust a finger at her. "YOU must steal the bra of Phoebe the titan and bring it back to me. Is my phrasing clear enough on this one?"

Heranes laughed and shook her head. "Damn. I was having fun messing with you, Pally boy. Fine. No tricks this time. You'll get a giant's bra to do whatever creepy stuff you want."

"Yes, well stay safe. No point in you failing before I get to see the biggest breasts on earth."

"I know, right?" Heranes had to grin. Creep or not, at least he was shooting straight with her this time. He still wasn't anything she'd consider a friend, but she could shoot the shit with him. "What kinda cup size is that? Himalayas?" She raised her finger and gave a spiraling motion as she turned back to her comrades. "Pack it up, ladies. Next stop, Gaia Mountains. Last stop before Olympus!"

Trial 12- claim the bra of Phoebe the Titan

The three set up a cart, letting Heranes rest up for the fight and letting Clymene and Deska put their feet up a bit. They weren't far from the city when Heranes gestured to Deska. "Hey, Des. C'mere."

The bandit checked a map to ensure they were on course and left the horses to their own devices as she turned to face her. "What is it this time?" she asked, armed folded over her freckled chest.

"Gedzefughout."

"What are you-?" Deska didn't have time to finish her question or her sneer when there came a dense clang. She looked down to see that her gold bracer had fallen off her wrist and into the cart. Heranes smirked picked it up as Deska stared at her.

"What?" Heranes grinned at the stunned bandit. "I'm a merciful goddess. If you want a job as one of my handmaidens, you're free to stay, but..." She gestured at the bare arm. "You're free. I trust you. You want to go be a bandit queen again? I won't stop ya, but you're pretty good at this hero stuff."

Deska snorted and shook her head, but she bore a wide smile. "Shut up, ye big softy," she muttered, turning back to the horses. "Ye're 'bout to bring a tear to me eye."

"Which eye?" Heranes added with a poke to her ribs. Deska smacked her hand away with a snicker.

"ONE more job, ye ken? I getcha yer bra and I'm out. No more bracelet, no more gettin' shot by amazons and kicked in the ribs by demigoddesses."

"Look, I said I'm sorry about that. I was hopped up on fairy jizz."

"Oh, aye! We've all been there!" Deska snorted, cracking the reigns as they laughed and enjoyed the ride.

The tall mountain range was visible in the distance, but as they grew closer, there were other shapes lower to the ground. Clymene gestured for them to stop and hurried ahead, climbing a hill and frowning at the sight. "Heranes, you should see this..."

That was bad news. Clymene almost never used her real name. It was "my love" and "my goddess" and once "you crazy fuck machine." Heranes came up, and Deska followed in the horse and cart, even if she wasn't invited. Between them and the mountains, they saw the army Zeus had gathered to defend the titan and his pride.

Hydras, gorgons, minotaurs, cyclops, fawns, griffins, snakes the size of rivers, horses with huge fanged mouths, giant bears, men who were either walking dead or cursed enough to wish they had were already passed. There were hundreds standing between her and her quest.

The women were quiet a moment before Heranes turned and kicked a random boulder. It split into pieces at the wrath of her tantrum, and Heranes grabbing one of the chunks and hurled it into the horizon. She stomped and cursed and paced around while Deska quietly leaned on her the pommel of her saddle. The bandit pulled out a flask and took a drink as she looked over the sea of a makeshift army. She tried to count the heads before she realized that many of them had more than one, and it was a poor means of keeping track.

Clymene looked painfully at her lover's outrage that had her cursing every god she could think of or make up. She let her be, but drew her bow and arrow, looking at the army. She didn't count the heads, but she did pick out which would make the best targets. There was no better way to die than beside a demigod and her wife.

"That asshole!" Heranes shouted, turning back to talk to her comrades at last. "He did this! Who else but Zeus!? Can't let himself get outdone, huh!? Who else would have fucked an army of bastards around the world just for this kind of occasion, huh!? FUCK!!!"

Deska shrugged before she sat back up, cracking her back and sticking out her big chest. "Musta been. Ain't nobody else who can make those monsters, eh? So what are we going to do about it?"

Clymene raised her bow readily and looked to Heranes for a cue, but Deska raised a hand at her. Clymene met her good eye and the bandit shook her head, getting her to lower her bow in confusion to see what she was planning.

Heranes sighed and leaned her head against a nearby tree. It was enough to tip it over slightly. "I dunno... I need to think. I'm just... bad at thinking."

"Well, look at em," Deska said, gesturing with her flask. "They're not that big, really. You could take down a whole boatload of them."

"Yea, but not that many. If they were regular soldiers, sure. If they were one on one, of course."

"So they've only got you beat in numbers," Deska muttered before taking another drink.

"I mean, obviously. They're not as tough as me. That would take..." Heranes paused in mid sentence and slowly turned to Deska. The bandit glanced at her casually from the corner of her eyes. Clymene's eyes widened as she realized where this was going.

"I have to do it alone," Heranes mused. "I can't have help... but my task is just getting the bra!" Deska's knowing smile grew wider, but she still didn't speak. "Come on! Back to town!" Heranes said excitedly, already sprinting back to the nearest village. "We're gonna need a lot of scrolls, some messengers, and a shitload of favors to cash in."

Zeus' army stayed where it was for several days. The king of the gods was pleased to find that Hera's daughter didn't approach them again, and his mishmash of monsters and men stood guard over the way to Phoebe's mountains to see that no one traveled across it. A few of them ate each other, but his otherwise forgotten abominations certainly weren't there to do anything important. Even with their minor losses, the army still far outnumbered Heranes when she returned.

To Zeus' hundreds, Heranes only had closer to fifty. The Greek still looked over the army of Zeus' various bastards and smirked with arrogance. Every challenge she had been on, she had encountered someone or something dangerous enough to be a threat to her. A few ships and some letters sent, and she had some of the strongest people in the world behind her.

"Right!" Deska yelled to the mismatched troops as she mounted her horse. "You all know the rules! Goddess girl here gets to the mountains no matter what! 'Sides that..." She pulled out her scimitar and a large jug. "Each body's worth a point. Lowest score buys drinks. So LET'S GO!"

The lurching dead and lumbering giants were slow and puzzled by the swift charge of Heranes and her army, but the centaurs loyal to the god-king galloped forward. The Persians that Heranes had threatened and a handful of Amazonian guards made up the bulk of the force, at least in numbers, but they held closer to the rear. A few Persian and Amazonian bolts flew over Heranes' head, bringing down a few random enemies in her path.

The defending centaurs only got a few shots off before two of them went down at once, identical arrows buried in their chests. "Fucking tenderhoofed bitches," spat Glade as she notched another pair of arrows into her longbow. "Still got shit for range, do ya?"

The lone centaur mercenary had shattering their firing squad enough that any arrows they let fly went off target, forcing them to try to retreat as the invaders closed in. They realized too late that it wasn't fast enough; they'd be able to outrun a few troops, but not a pack of sacred lions that came sprinting out from among their numbers. Heranes' pet Nestei, fresh from its time idling at the coliseum, grabbed one centaur in her jaws and broke its neck before she hit the ground. The rest of the centaurs were caught quickly by the smaller lionesses that had come with Onua, proving no more difficult to them than a bunch of bulkier gazelle to the hunting cats.

A minotaur picked up its hefty axe and raised it overhead, setting its eyes on Heranes as she continued to sprint ahead of the pack. A sudden hiss and an explosion went off in its bull's face, and it gave a startled howl as the ninja's smoke bombs went off. Eiko moved up his body as quick and light as a breeze before she swiftly sank her knife in and out of his neck. With a bovine gurgle, the minotaur fell bleeding as Eiko leapt off towards another startled target without breaking stride.

A small troop of soldiers stepped into Heranes' way, raising their thick iron shields. Heranes punched the lead one at top speed, hurling him into his brothers in arms and sending them scattering like bowling pins. She only had to stop when a large glob of green sludge flew towards her. Heranes leapt back and let the acid scorch a misshapen hole in the earth in front of her. A hydra came into her line of sight, the huge coppery snake baring the many fangs that filled its half a dozen mouths and heads.

"I see you fight bravely, you with many heads," a voice sang behind her. Heranes smirked and took a few more steps back.

"But you are many, fighting like you are one." Cadent and Aestas stepped in from behind Heranes, the sisters Geryon raising their fists and weapons.

"You are a fool to think that you can beat three who fight at one," Hiems concluded in their grim and tuneless song.

"Go show em what us immortals are made of, sisters!" Heranes laughed, clapping Aestas on the shoulder. She darted around the hydra, and as its one head went for her, Aestas buried a fishing spear into the side of its head. The one neck fell limp, dragged along by the other recoiling heads.

"So many heads!" she laughed musically. "So many targets!"

"Come now, sisters! Let us sing its final song!" Just as they’d suggested, the three sisters moving in perfect sync began to tear apart the many hydra heads that tried clumsily to catch them.

Heranes glanced over her shoulder at the loud cracking sound. Roshan the Torturess sliced three of the walking dead in half with a single crack of her whip, just to bring it around another's neck and pop it off like a cork. She was clad in her usual attire, though a bright pink leather instead of the old black. It suited her job as the headmistress of the Pink Kitten brothel (they had a theme).

"Learn to bow to your mistress, you cowardly little corpses!" Roshan shouted. One of the zombies slipped past her guard and grabbed her by the arm, but its arm was grabbed in turn. It turned out that her pet half-giant Jotad squeezed a lot harder, and the arm crumbled to dust with a lot of crunching and popping noises. Jotad hurled the zombie off over the hills before he gave a frothing roar and barreled into the nearest creature (in this case, a giant boar), proceeding to headbutt it to death.

Queen Hippolyta clotheslined a pair of drunken fauns to the ground, then turned to deliver a spinning kick into the jaw of an advancing gorgon. "I must say, your fighting style is most unique, your highness," Hippolyta praised, grinning from under her royal mask.

Helen of Troy, wearing a thick leather breastplate that cupped and pushed up her bosom, laughed as she dodged a spear thrown by a snake-bodied woman. "And yours is so flashy and colorful! We simply must arrange a match some time after this!" Helen darted around another spear as she charged the serpentine foe, folding her hands behind her back and leaping into the air. She pivoted her shoulders and bashed her tits into the scaley woman's face, sending her spinning all the way around before she fell unconscious to the ground.

Onua strode forward through the ranks, her three lions tearing apart any who came towards her. She commanded them in quick, sharp words in her native tongue, coordinating them to bring down a charging goat the size of a house before she sank her blade into its thick skull.

"The tribe will never believe where I got such exotic meats," she laughed to one of the passing amazons. Onua suddenly turned just fast enough to avoid the swipe of a giant bony hand, retreating with her lions as the 20-foot tall skeleton loomed over her.

A loud thumping distracted them both, looking up as a large barrel came rolling down the hill. Onua leapt to one side to let it crash into the skeleton's long leg, but it harmlessly shattered to pieces against it. The monster looked up and saw a single woman still hanging back on the hill, too distant to make out. It grunted out a dusty breath and reached for Onua again.

It hesitated when it heard the chanting, letting the African chieftess and her cats run past its boney legs. It looked up in confusion as the water from the barrel bubbled, forming into mud that rapidly piled itself up. Soon a figure even taller than it stood in the shape of a tremendous human made of thick mud. Its dripping hands grabbed the monster and tore its arm off in one pull. The skeleton shrieked and fought back as it was quickly torn apart, Gorus cackling from back on the hill.

"Do not forget my shrine, little goddess!" the swamp witch shouted before kicking another barrel down the hill and letting it burst into another massive mud golem.

Deska rode through the monstrous army, slicing anything she passed with her massive scimitar. A gorgon leapt into her way, hissing and its eyes glowing a bright and sickly green as it tried to turn her to stone. "Try lookin' me in the good eye," growled the bandit, tugging her eyepatch and lopping its head off in a quick swipe. Clymene was just behind Deska’ horse, running at an impressive pace while circling slowly and firing off arrows into anything that got close to them or Heranes.

"How many ye got back there?!" Deska called over the din of roars and battle cries.

"I'm sorry!" Clymene shouted back as she shot the eye off a diving giant eagle. "I was too caught up in the beauty of the battle to count!"

"You just say that cuz ye're losing!" Deska laughed. "Now quit starin' at your husband's arse and shoot straight."

"She is my wife, not a husband."

"Oh fer... look up what a metaphor is, ya halfwit."

"I do not think that was a metaphor."

"Just forget I said anything."

"I shall never forget you, friend Deska."

The Irish thief rolled her eye and stopping her horse so that she could take a drink and size up the battlefield. Heranes had wrestled down a dragon and crushed its windpipe between her thighs, but the river-sized snake was slithering after her. "Don't suppose ye can make fire, can ya?"

"Only need a moment," Clymene confirmed. She tore a strip of fabric from her armor, tied it around the neck of her next arrow, and readied some flint.

The snake was about to rear its head when the shout distracted it. "Oi! Ugly!" Both Heranes and the snake looked up, right as Deska sped by on her horse and threw her jug of booze into its face. It shattered and the creature hissed and recoiled from the splash of liquid and shards of clay. As it tried to shake the alcohol from its eyes, but Deska whistled to cue Clymene's flaming arrow. It became buried into its thick scales, sparking the potent alcohol to burst into flames as the screaming snake thrashed like mad.

"So that's why you carry that stuff everywhere!" Heranes laughed over its death throes.

"The hell it is," Deska smirked, drawing another flask from within her cleavage. "Now fuck off. We got this."

Heranes gave her a mock salute and ran off for the mountains. smiling at the promising noises of howling monsters and various familiar shouts of triumph.

Heranes traveled far and quickly, clambering over a few mountains in a few minutes. The titan's lair was tucked out of sight, but too enormous to miss once you were close. It was tall enough that even with a running start, Heranes couldn't have reached the top of the entrance.

She entered in silence, eying up the cave itself. There were ancient etchings in its walls of giant symbols and pictograms, all of which were lost on Heranes. They were poorly lit by numerous bonfire-sized torches, and she really didn't care. She walked for a few minutes before she reached the main chamber. It was the size of several coliseums, and an oversized dresser, cauldron, chair and bed were set around the gigantic but plain den. Phoebe wasn't anywhere to be seen at first, but a massive figure rolled over in the bed. Heranes couldn't believe her luck. She was asleep.

Heranes cracked her knuckles and sighed. "Alright. That's a little anti-climactic, but here goes." She grabbed onto the huge bedsheet and climbed her way up to the mattress. Phoebe was, in fact... titanic. Her skin was a kind of deep sea blue, and she had a mass of silky blonde hair that was splashed out all over the bed and pillow, looking like it would reach past her hips. Her face was sort of pretty in a simple, gargantuan way, and judging by the shape of the blanket, she had a generous and fertile-looking figure (proportionally speaking).

Heranes tugged on the edge of the sheets, slowly shuffling it down and revealing Phoebe's upper body. Just her luck, the titan was wearing the bra, one shoulder strap hanging halfway down her arm already. Heranes tugged that off easily enough before getting to work on the other. She had to quietly roll her over a bit to reach the hooks and get the strap out from under her arm, but soon she had a huge bra of soft leather, each cup the size of a swimming pool.

"Wow, jackpot. Who's the lucky guy?" Heranes muttered, eying the dozing giantess. "Heavy sleeper, huh? Fine by me."

She started towards the edge of the bed when a shrill cry came from overhead. Heranes froze for a split second in horror before she jumped back, letting Wunu's staff smack into the huge, cushy mattress. Phoebe didn't even stir as the monkey princess touched down, whirling her staff and turning to face Heranes.

"There you are, interesting woman!" Wunu announced. Heranes winced at her shout, but she saw that Phoebe was still motionless. A bit more at ease that tiny noises from tiny people didn't wake up titans, she sighed.

"My name is Heranes. And what are you doing here, you little shit?"

"I am here to finish our challenge!" The half-ape/half-god puffed up her chest proudly. "It was a fine duel we had going, until I went to Hell."

"Hell? What the hell is Hell?" Heranes frowned. "You mean Hades?"

"Something like that. But I escaped."

"You 'escaped' Hades?" Heranes smirked in skeptical amusement. "You got eaten by a shadow. How do you escape that?"

"Well, my family has a long history of outwitting and defeating gods. First I tricked the shadow into playing me in a game of rock-paper-scissor. When I inevitably won, I dared it..."

"You know what? Don't care," Heranes hissed in a sharp whisper. "I've got a bra to steal. Then I never have to do these stupid tests ever again. I become a goddess, and I do what I want."

"That is an excellent idea! Then so shall I!" Wunu grabbed the other end of the bra and tugged, stopping Heranes in her tracks. The Greek redhead scowled at the grinning Chinese heroine.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Heranes groaned.

"Yes! I am tricking you. My people will be so pleased when I show them I have stolen the savage Westerners' holy underwear."

Heranes wordlessly frowned at her for a second, then turned away sharply. She swung the bra around and stopped sharply, using it to fling Wunu across the room. "Ha! How you like them bananas, treehugger?!" Heranes laughed after her, reeling in the rest of the bra. She was ready to jump off when something seemed to shoot out from Wunu.

Her staff had stretched to cross the entire room, jamming Heranes in the breast and knocking her back. Heranes stopped suddenly as she felt her shoulders hit Phoebe's ass through the blankets, cushioning her impact but doing nothing for the sting in her chest. Wunu swung the staff down to brace on the mattress and pole vaulted back to the bed, touching its tip as she reached the top. It quickly retracted back down to a normal bo staff.

"That hurt, you little spaz!" Heranes said, realizing how dumb it must have sounded to most people.

"Of course! This is Jingu Bang, my father's trusty staff! It can measure the depths of the ocean and was wielded against the very gods! It is unbreakable!"

"You don't say," Heranes muttered, rubbing her breast and leering at the Chinese warrior. Wunu whirled heavy weapon and swung for Heranes' head, but the Greek drew and blocked it with her fang sword. The two connected with a resounding clang, but neither weapon budged as they locked together. It was Wunu's turn to look surprised as Heranes bounced her eyes towards the muddy markings along the flat of the primitive blade. "Join the club."

While Wunu's hands were both busy holding her staff, Heranes punched her across the face. Wunu staggered but regrouped quickly, raising her staff to stop an overhead swing of Heranes' fang. The blow was halted as neither weapon gave way, but Heranes swung a punch into the Asian girl’s stomach. Wunu gave a squeak of a grunt as she was sent flying back across the massive bedsheets. The Chinese fighter grabbed onto the blanket and swung herself back to her feet, not seeming to mind that she’d dropped her legendary staff along the way. Heranes charged after her before she could reclaim the weapon, grabbing Wunu by her shorter hair and hurling her like a discus at the titan’s dresser. Wunu bumped into the mass of wood and fell limply into the slightly opened drawer below her.

“And stay down, runt!” Heranes called after her. She went back to the bra and tossed it over her shoulder, the Greek getting to the edge when she caught the flash of pink in the distance. She looked up curiously back at the drawers, seeing that in the time it took her to trek across the giant bedsheets, Wunu had stretched out a pair of Phoebe’s massive underwear between the drawer and the handle above it. "What do you think you're... OOF!"

Wangkong had pulled back on the elastic of the giant panties and used them to launch herself at Heranes like a giant bow and arrow. She landed head first in the Greek's stomach, knocking her completely off her feet. Heranes quickly rolled to her knees, but Wunu delivered a sharp, whipping kick to the side of her face. Heranes' head snapped to one side, nearly falling over but catching herself with one hand on the bed, just for Wunu to knee her in the chin. Even without her staff, the demi-monkey was tougher than any monster she remembered fighting.

Wunu delivered several speedy punches to the demigoddess' head until, half out of instinct, Heranes caught her by the fist. She pulled on the monkey princess' arm and forced her to come flying into a headbutt. Wunu staggered dizzily and Heranes tackled her around the middle, bringing her down to the sheets. Wunu shook the stars from her eyes while Heranes pinned her down, throwing a heavy punch of her own into the Chinese fighter's face. Wunu winced as her head bounced from the blow, but she suddenly latched onto the exposed flesh of Heranes' breast and bit down on it.

"AHH! You crazy little gremlin!" Heranes got back up to her knees, but Wunu hung on with her teeth and fingers, her tail whipping wildly behind her. Heranes had fought enough lions by now to know not to tear her off, or she'd just take a chunk of skin with her. Instead, she dug her fingers under Wunu’s teeth and forced her mouth back open. Keeping her grip on Wunu's head, she turned and slammed her face first into the nearest surface. The monkey girl's head was bounced off of Phoebe's giant breast twice, but she kicked Heranes in the calf hard enough to make the redhead lose her balance. Wunu hopped back and kicked her foot underneath her staff, flicking it up and snatching it out of the air. She gave a small flourish to shrink it into the size of a baton before smacking it across Heranes' chest, bouncing her breasts within her stola.

Heranes winced but caught Wunu by the wrist, spinning her around and pinning her back against Phoebe's massive tit. Heranes wound up for another blow to Wunu's belly when the bed shook. The sheets were swept out from under their feet, making both combatants fall over as the mountainous figure rose. Phoebe sat up in her bed, a woman so big that her kind had birthed the gods and then fought with them in a great war. Her body had some visible muscle, but still remained primarily feminine. Even with an average build, being around ten stories tall didn't require a lot of muscle to be dangerous. The blue titaness turned to look at them, revealing some simple, worn out robe covering most of her midsection as the blanket fell away.

Heranes and Wunu froze as her eyes focused on them and blinked away some sleep. "What... are... you... doing?" she growled in a voice so big and loud that it felt like Heranes felt it in her bones more than she actually heard it. Phoebe's eyes darted next to them at the spot where Heranes remembered dropping the titan's bra. Phoebe bared her teeth with an angry sneer.

"Okay..." Heranes spoke in a careful, level tone as she set Wunu back on the mattress. "Did not think you'd wake up after all that." Her eyes rolled over towards Wunu, who glanced back at her a small nod. "We didn't mean to make that much noise. We were just exploring when-"

Phoebe made a few thick snorting noises. "I smell the blood of gods," she growled. Well, shit.

"Yea... yea, see, this is all sort of a big prank I'm pulling on Hera. She was my mom, but in that lazy 'throw you off a mountain when I'm bored' kind of way. So I'm really more mortal than NOW!!"

Phoebe was puzzled by the sudden cry, but Wunu leapt into the air like a missile heading for Phoebe's face. The titaness moved with surprising speed for her size, but Heranes grabbed the sheets beneath her tremendous hips and pulled. Her muscles bulged with the effort, but it still made Phoebe trip up and her swatting hand missing the soaring monkey girl. She whirled her staff in a quick circle and grew it to the size of a castle's pillar before smashing it over Phoebe's head. The big blonde gave a pained and angry cry, rubbing at the sore spot and glaring after Wunu as she touched down on the wall of a headboard.

While Phoebe went after the girl with the staff the size of the titan's body, Heranes jumped up and grabbed onto the back of her robe. She quickly scaled the last few yards so that she could grab the back of Phoebe's hair between her shoulders, bracing her heels against Phoebe's back and pulling on the tangled mass. Phoebe shrieked as her head was pulled back by the force and weight in Heranes' relatively tiny form. The titaness whipped her head sharply to one side, the lengthy hair tailing behind. Even Heranes’ tight grip was lost when a hair or two snapped loose, each as thick as a rope from a ship’s rigging. Heranes had no idea how far she’d have gone flying if she hadn’t thought fast and jammed her fang sword into the bedpost. It carved a long groove before it came to a halt, letting Heranes dangle from one arm over the cavern floor.

Wunu thrust her staff out at Phoebe like a spear, letting it stretch out and jab her in one colossal breast. Phoebe stumbled backward slightly, letting Wunu recoil and shoot her magical rod back out at the titaness. This time Phoebe leaned to one side, letting the monkey king’s staff shoot across the room instead of into her wobbling chest again. The blue giantess watched it go by with a smirk, looking back at Wunu to find the monkey princess having dropped the staff, running along it like a bridge with a fist drawn back for a massive punch of her own.

“The Monkey Princess has you now, you blue-boobed monster!” Wunu crowed just before Phoebe clapped her hands together, flattening her between them. Once her hands parted, the Chinese warrior limply tumbled off her improvised bridge. It looked as if she were unconscious until her tail lashed out at the last minute, catching herself at the expense of her silken skirt flipping up around her chest. While she fumbled dizzily with that, Phoebe gave her a flick of her fingers that send her shooting to the floor below.

“You are like the biting of insects to me,” Phoebe growled as she swung her legs off the bed. “Bothersome but insignificant.”

“Butterfly up in your grill, bitch!” Heranes leapt and landed on Phoebe’s shoulder, so as she turned towards the voice, Heranes slugged her across the gigantic target that was her jaw. The blue titan was sent toppling from the bed, landing on her hands and knees while Wunu scampered out from under the thundering limbs. Phoebe moved around to end up on just her knees as Wunu dove and rolled beneath her to keep the clambering hands from squashing her underneath a few tons of woman.

Heranes, meanwhile, had gotten a running start and leapt off the mattress. She delivered a leaping double kick right to the kneeling Phoebe's nose. The titan clutched her face and went back to her hands and knees, and Heranes landing beside her before shouting beneath her. "Monkey! Punching bags!"

Wunu nodded and rather than get out from under the giantess, she turned and threw a punch into one of Phoebe's dangling breasts. Phoebe gasped and jolted from the blow to her chest, but Heranes hit her in the opposite jug from the other side hard enough to slap one boob into the other. The two legends pounded her chest from either side for several seconds, indeed working her bosom like a pair of speed bags. Phoebe finally overcame the shock and pain to just bend her arms, pressing her body down on top of them as if she were doing pushups. Heranes threw her hands up over her head, grabbing two massive handfuls of flesh while Wunu did the same. The two epic figures braced their feet and their arms flexed to hold up what was perhaps the largest woman in the world and (while she didn't look it) grandmother to Zeus.

They held off Phoebe's crushing body, but only just barely. Heranes had to go to one knee and brace her shoulder against the incoming breast. "If you've got any ideas, I'm pretty open right now," Heranes grunted through her grit teeth.

"Can you hold it for a second?" Wunu squeaked out, struggling every bit as much (or more) as Heranes.

"Just a second? Totally," Heranes bluffed. Better to risk being crushed to death than admit she couldn't do it in front of the pesky rival. Wunu quickly let go and hurried out from under Phoebe on all fours, scampering towards her massive legs. Heranes started to sweat and her arms felt ready to burst as the muscles and veins swelled from resisting the size of a creature that helped for the world before the gods. Even punching through the entire earth hadn't been this exhausting.

Heranes' thick legs felt ready to give when Wunu scrambled up one of Phoebe's thighs, vanishing under her robe. Even out of sight, Heranes had been bitten by the little savage before. She recognized Wunu's little growl and gnashing of teeth coming from Phoebe's crotch. Phoebe recoiled with a shriek, grabbing at her groin while she pulled back from Heranes. The redheaded Greek breathed a big sigh of relief and shook out her arms, getting back to her feet while Phoebe managed to lift up her skirt and gingerly yank Wunu off of her.

Phoebe squeezed the monkey princess angrily, her feet kicking frantically out of the bottom of the titan's fist. Heranes quickly leapt to the side of the bed, pulling herself up by the blanket as quickly as she could by ignoring the ache in her arms and legs. Wunu looked up past Phoebe and whistled. Apart from confusing Phoebe, it shrank her staff to the mere size of a stone pillar, loosening its place as the bridge across the room. As it fell, Heranes leapt off the bed and grabbed it in midair. It apparently did weigh over a ton, just like Wunu had claimed, but at least it didn't weigh as much as a titaness falling chest first on top of her.

"Back to bed, fatass!" Heranes wrapped her arms around the giant club and bashed it across Phoebe's face, sending the grouchy blue giant flying backward. Her head crashed against the wall of the cave, her grip loose enough for Wunu to leap onto the nearest dresser. Heranes pulled the weapon back again and rammed it up between Phoebe’s legs, the end of the huge iron rod vanishing straight into the blue giant’s crotch. The titaness’ eyes went wide and her mouth flew open before she flopped onto the floor with an echoing BOOM! Wunu hopped down with a few improvised handholds in the form of cracks in the wood and drawer handles while Heranes withdrew the huge staff and dropped it to the ground as she kicked at Phoebe's arm curiously. The titan was out cold.

Heranes and Wunu caught their breath as the titaness laid still, each of them sporting a few deep, fresh bruises and other sources of pain.

"Good swing, demigod," Wunu praised with a weary grin on her face.

"Demigoddess," Heranes corrected lazily. "But thanks. I think it's just good genes. Gods seem naturally good at kicking titan asses." She nodded towards the giant bra that had fallen off the bed in the struggle. "Speaking of, that piece of monster underwear is my ticket to dropping the demi off my demigoddess. You still looking to fight me over it?"

Wunu considered this a moment, but then picked up her staff and took up a fighting stance that looked far more formal than anything Heranes had used before. But it got the message across. "That trophy will be mine," the monkey princess insisted.

"Good. I was ready to lose any respect I had if you gave up that easy."

Heranes raised her fists, leaving a moment of pregnant silence between them before Wunu lashed out with her staff, stretching it out at the redhead. Heranes knew enough to sidestep the extending rod, charging in as Wunu swung the staff in a huge sweeping arc towards her. Heranes caught the staff under one arm and swung her hips, reversing the attack by lifting Wunu off her feet and hitting the smaller woman into the dresser. Heranes tried to follow up with a crushing punch, but Wunu nimbly hopped over the blow and let Heranes' fist bury itself in the wood instead.

Wunu delivered a pair of swift kicks to Heranes' head while in mid-flip before the demigoddess could pull her fist free. She landed and threw a punch to follow it, but Heranes ripped her hand back out of the dresser with a plank of wood still trapped around her wrist. The crude shield blocked Wunu's punch and Heranes swung her fist sideways to smash the wood to splinters against her head. Judging by how hard this staggered the Chinese warrior, their earlier fight and the clash with Phoebe had taken a lot out of her. Wunu still snapped back with a kick into Heranes' stomach that pushed her back against the same dresser. Having fought with the two toughest opponents she'd faced yet hadn't exactly been easy on Heranes either.

She grabbed Wunu by the hair and lifted her off her feet, winding up for a blow to the face when Wunu swung her foot up towards Heranes' groin. For once, though, Heranes expected it, forcing her thighs closed around the monkey princess' foot. "Not this time," Heranes gloated, turning sharply and using the grip on both her hair and foot to slam Wunu's back against the dresser. The Greek legend pounded a few fists into Wunu's stomach, but the monkey princess clapped her hands around her ears suddenly. Heranes instinctively let go to rub her head, allowing Wunu to throw a kick into her ribs. Her nimble toes adjusted to brace against Heranes' sturdy thigh in the process, practically climbing the bigger fighter and using the height to karate chop down into Heranes' neck muscles.

The double hit to her tender spots made Heranes barely keep from falling over. "Your strength is impressive, but your fighting style needs work," Wunu scolded.

"Style is for fashion models," the Greek grunted back. Wunu leapt at her for a diving punch, but Heranes palmed her smaller fist and squeezed, getting a squeal out of Wunu. "This is just ass whooping."

Heranes delivered a headbutt that knocked Wunu out of her grip and smashing into the ground. The rocky bottom of the cave cracked from the force, but Wunu tumbled away swiftly when Heranes tried to stomp a sandaled foot onto her stomach. Wunu grabbed her staff from the ground, turning it to a normal size before she held it out in front of her and whirled it like an airplane propeller. Within a few seconds, the wind hit Heranes like a wall as Wunu kicked up her own miniature tornado. The redhead braced her feet against the ground, but her scandal slipped and sent her tumbling head over heels backward. Heranes stopped herself by slamming her fingers against the stone, scraping a few shallow trenches into them with her fingertips as she dragged herself to a halt. The top of her stola was being blown off her shoulders, exposing more of her chest (to say nothing of how useless the skirt she had high around her hips was in this kind of wind).

"Tornado, huh?" Heranes called over the blasting winds as Wunu smirked at her clever technique. "Sounds like another word for pussy earthquakes!" Heranes drew the fang sword from her hip and pulled loose the wrappings that made for its handle. She took careful aim and hurled it, the unbreakable blade bouncing off the unbreakable staff once again. It threw off Wunu's precise circle, sending the monkey girl staggering a few paces trying to get it back under control. Heranes just pulled on the chord of leather, snapping the blade back past Wunu's shoulder. The link between her and the sword wrapped around the staff and Heranes pulled it taut, trapping it in place. As Wunu tugged back and forth, she found she was unable to perform any of her more elaborate maneuvers with Heranes' bulky form hanging onto one end.

"Let go of Ruyi Bang," Wunu insisted, visibly out of breath. "I am Wunu Wangkong, daughter of Son Wukong! I have toppled mountains and drank rivers!"

"Ha! Rookie stuff!" Heranes laughed, tugging at one shoulder of her stola to try to cover up her breast again (it did a poor job of it) as she marched towards her opponent. "I'm Heranes, no last name. I am the daughter of Rena and Andilus, the wheat farmers. I was toilet trained by the time I was two, and I won my local spelling bee when I was eight."

Wunu gave Heranes a puzzled look as she approached and went on. "I built my first farmhouse with my bare hands when I was nine. It looked like shit." When she got close enough, Wunu swung the free end of her staff up at her. Heranes just caught the neck of it and kicked at the monkey princess' legs, sweeping her off her feet. "And I've fought a half dozen queens in the last month."

Wunu bounced herself back to her feet with a nimble handspring, throwing a punch into Heranes' face. The Greek staggered and felt a swelling by her eye, but threw back a pair of jabs from each of her fists. "I had a catfight in Hades," she growled before another jab from Wunu cut her off. Heranes slugged Wunu in the stomach, and while she was bent over, the Greek brawler swung her shoulders hard enough that her breasts slapped across the Chinese fighter's face. "And I titboxed Helen of Troy!" Wunu staggered from the titslap, enough that Heranes could grab her neck under her arm and grab her by the wrist, driving a piston-like knee into her stomach. Wunu clawed at her body, tearing more of her stola but unable to get free. "I wrestled my way through an army of amazons and hunted holy lions! I was tortured for an entire day, and then I GAVE HER POINTERS! So if you think you're going to get in my way after all the bullshit I went through (as fun as all that was), you've got another thing coming, you little monkey brat!!"

Wunu suddenly threw a punch at Heranes' ribs, but she freed a hand to grab at the pouch on her hip. Wunu's fist punch made her wince, but by the second she had pulled out the golden bracelet she had given Deska to keep her in line. She let Wunu's punch shoot right through the golden loop, and while the monkey princess looked at it in confusion, she hissed "Yobitdjtop!" Wunu gasped as her mighty strength left her body, and she would have collapsed to the floor like a ragdoll if Heranes wasn't still holding onto her with the headlock.

Heranes dropped to her knees and pulled Wunu over her lap. She raised the holy staff of Ruyi Bang and flipped up Wunu's skirt, spanking her bare ass with the iron rod loud enough to echo around the titaness' chambers. Wunu shrieked and kicked pathetically, her tail wriggling like a hooked worm while still trying to avoid the punishing weapon.

"YAAAAA! Stop! Stop it!" The Chinese deity kicked and screamed and wailed until Heranes had reduced her to childish tears.

"What's the matter? I thought monkey always had red asses!" Heranes jeered, but Wunu seemed like she'd had enough. She grabbed Wunu by the tail, turning her upside down and lifting her up high enough to face her. "Now lizpen... wow. Listen. Ugh. I feel concussed. Do I look concussed? I think this is what concussed feels like... anyway. That thing?" She pointed at Wunu's new jewelry. "Magic bracelet. Doesn't come off until I say so."

Wunu pouted as she wriggled weakly in her grasp. Heranes doubted the bracer would have worked on her at full strength anyway, for all the strength and stamina she had. Even Deska was able to crawl and squirm with it on. "I won't be your prisoner. I'll rest and eat enough that I'll just break free!"

Heranes shook her head as she walked over to Phoebe's still unconscious body. She sat Wunu on top of one of her breasts, serving like a big sexualized beanbag chair. "I don't want you as a prisoner. I've learned a lot through these trials of mine, and I sure didn't get through them by killing everybody. Plus... damn, girl. Nobody I've met punches like that, and I fought a planet once." Wunu raised her eyebrows at that. "Earthquake. Sorry. I'm seriously going to see a doctor after this. Point is, lot of respect for what you did back there. Even if it was for a shitty reason."

Wunu twitched her arms in a way that might have been meant to be a shrug. "My father was dishonored by the gods. They made him their lowliest servant in the heavens, so he rebelled and fought their every army and deity to a standstill. I fight and travel to live up to his legacy."

Heranes shook her head. "Gods, right? Fuck em. It just takes girls like us to do anything about it." She dug back into her pouch, taking out a wineskin and popping it open. She took a swig and gestured to Wunu, who opened her mouth and let her pour some in. "It's why I'm gonna have to take that bra. You get me?"

Wunu nodded. "You said it was for making you into a goddess?"

"Yep. Looking to take the demi out of my demigoddess. My last trial is stealing that bra. So..." Heranes gave her a grimace. "If you could lay off the 'because honor and because I want a trophy' bullshit, I'd appreciate not having to snap your neck or something."

Wunu nodded thoughtfully. "I think I understand. Very well. I will just take one of the ones from the drawer up there."

"Wait, what?"

"She had many. Up there, in the drawer you threw me into."

"Oh for fuck's sake… of course there’s more than one..."

"Is fuck one of your gods?"

"No, no. Forget it. Yea, take what you want. That one's mine..." Heranes took another long drink and considered something. "So you've got a grudge against the gods?"

"By my father's honor, yes. I have his legacy to live up to."

"And you actually fought them before?"

"Sometimes," she shrugged. "There are many Chinese gods. They are immortal and I am not, but I am just as strong as they are. You see, my mortal mother-"

"Noooo no no," Heranes insisted. "Too gross. Don't wanna hear it. But I do have an offer for you..."

Her trials were complete. Her friends and allies were all alive, the army of legends sporting the occasional wound. Nothing worse than a few extra scars and bandages. Heranes told her story while Deska led the cart she collapsed into and Clymene tended to her wounds. She looked back to see the short figure of the Chinese fighter bounding out of the mountains in great, long leaps until she was out of sight in seconds. When she was near the palace once again, Heranes got up long enough to hurl the titan's bra into the nearest wall of the kingdom, toppling it with the immense weight of the fabric. There were thrilled cheers (after the shouts of terror stopped) from the citizens, and Heranes felt like she was in no hurry to report to the palace. The bra wasn’t going anywhere for a while. She treated her comrades to a round of drinks at the tavern; witches and ninjas ate with queens, and amazons held drinking contests with centaurs. Heranes herself ate an entire ox and drank two barrels of wine to refuel herself from the latest ordeal, Clymene sitting in her lap the whole time to hand-feed her some of the meat.

That evening she returned to King Palthas, tossing him the thin pendant from around her neck. "There you go, your highness. About a month of uncut spank material on there."

Palthas caught it in his boney fingers and smirked back. "My thanks, Lady Heranes. I'll be sure to savor your adventures for years to come."

"Watch how you phrase that," Heranes chuckled. "And thanks for being a dick about this, Pally, when you could have been a huge dick instead."

"Yes, well you don't answer to me anymore. You answer to a higher power."

"Yea, maybe," she shrugged. "We'll see how it goes. Also, real quick..." Heranes took a sharp step forward and punched the king across the face, knocking him out of his throne. She dusted off her hands and started back out of the throne room. "My god-mother asked me to give you that."

Heranes finally dismissed her comrades. All that was left was her to report to Olympus and receive the final ceremony to obtain her godhood. Deska decided to wait until Heranes went through with her final step, and Clymene would await her wife patiently near the path to Olympus. Heranes went up the massive mountain on her own, the shimmering kingdom of the gods finally in her grasp. Everything shone of polished, spotless pearls and gems and gold and ivory, an overall gaudy look that made her a little sick to look at. She guessed it beat cleaning out the horse stables, though.

There was a huge, open air area with marble tiles and tall pillars all around. There were, sitting in numerous thrones around her, what were unmistakably gods and goddesses. Beards, muscles, and fancy yet sexy robes were clearly the style on Olympus, and a few servants in far less impressive garb walked between their taller, mightiest masters, refilling cups and serving grapes. It looked... boring as all get out.

"Ah! Our guest of honor!" Hera beamed as she stepped up to her. It was the first time she could remember seeing her birth mother, and it had its natural bittersweetness. She was lovely and had hair in the same color, but that perfection to her face and body, that absolute motherly look... it was off-putting. Hera gave her a big warm hug, which made Heranes' muscles twitch uncomfortably before she managed to hug her back. She wouldn't have gotten here without her making the offer, after all. "I'm so proud of you! You really did it!"

"Yea, all on my own," she smiled weakly. "So... how's this work?"

Hera gestured towards Zeus, the man with the big white beard and the biggest chair in the room. He looked grumpy, but more like he was swallowing a bitter pill than planning revenge. Heranes grinned back at him. He'd done his best to cheat, but she'd done it anyway.

"Heranes, we hereby welcome you to Olympus. You have proven yourself beyond any mere mortal, and so you may count yourself among the gods." He gestured to the variously drunk and powerful beings of the Greek pantheon around him. "Step forward and accept what you have earned."

"Which is being a goddess right?" Heranes cut in.

"Excuse me?"

"You're using a lot of vague words there. Like what a supervillain would use. You're not going to poetic justice me into a crow or something, are you?"

Zeus blinked at her in confusion. "No... why?"

"You guys do that sometimes. I dunno. Call me paranoid." She stepped up before Zeus, hands impatiently on her hips.

"As a goddess of Olympus, you have the right to choose your realm."

"Strength," Heranes said curtly.

"I'm afraid my son Hercules has already claimed the god of Strength."

"What about fighting?"

"War has both a god and goddess."

"Drinking?"

Dionysus, the fat and jolly man in the robes stained with various drinks, gave a rowdy laugh.

"Point taken. Then... I want to be the goddess of ass whooping."

"I said there is already..."

"No, no. Not fights. Ass whoopings. When it's not even a contest." She folded her arms over her breasts confidently. "When you see a fight going down, and you just know who's going to win, and you're like 'damn, that's not a fight. That's an ass-whooping."

A few of the deities chuckled, Hades in particular. Zeus shrugged at last and gestured at her. "Er... very well. So be it." There was a burst of golden light and she felt a tingling sensation come up from the mountain itself. She felt lighter, stronger, faster... everything was just that much easier to her now. When the light faded, Zeru smirked proudly at her, and the audience of gods and goddesses applauded.

"Well? How do you feel, Heranes, Goddess of Ass Whoopings?"

Heranes looked over her hands a bit. "Doesn't feel that different, really. I ate some mushrooms once that made me feel just like this. Minus the dizziness anyway."

Zeus gave an indignant harumph, but Hera patted his hand. "Well, you were a demigoddess of considerable power. The change may not be as drastic as it was for some of the others. But I think you'll enjoy seeing the full extent of your power over time here on Olympus."

"Not really," Heranes said with a shrug. "I wasn't planning on staying around that long."

"Ah!" Hermes said with a nod. "Godly business to take care of?"

"A few campaign promises might have come up," Heranes smirked. "But it feels like I don't need to anyway." The newly crowned goddess of ass whoopings gestured around her. "After all, what have you all done for us lately?"

The council of the gods was quiet for a moment. "I made you into a goddess!" Hera laughed.

"Yea, basically just to win a bet. Big props, mom."

Poseidon spoke up next. "I watch over the seas and tides."

"You get pissy when people don't respect you and you sink ships." She pointed at Aphrodite. "You get jealous when someone's hotter than you are. You get people super drunk so they do awful shit. You instigate and manipulate wars so that your favorites always win like they're fucking sports teams. And you..." The wagged a finger at Zeus knowingly. "You're an adulterer, rapist, rageaholic idiot child who thinks he's poking an ant hill and not ruining people's' lives."

Zeus frowned through his big white beard and clenched a fist, which crackled with lightning. Everyone else seemed too busy staring at him to be concerned with their own insults they'd received. "Listen, you insolent child. You know nothing about the workings of Olympus."

"You know what, Z? You're right. I don't. Because no one knows what you people do for the world! Look at yourselves." She waved both hands around the room. "You're useless. You have all this power to help people and you use it to make yourself laugh and get laid. Me?"  She jerked a thumb at her chest. "I'm a selfish, shallow bitch, and I've helped more people just by showing off than all of you put together. The only reason people know you exist is because you keep cursing and blowing up people who piss you off. I've lived among the mortals all my life, and I don't think they need you half as much as you think they do."

The gods were tense now. They weren't sure where this was going, but it wasn't likely to work out well. "We can consider your council," Hera offered as a token bit of peacekeeping. "Perhaps we gods could be more... open-minded with the mortals..."

"I think that's a good step, mom," Heranes actually smiled. "But not quite drastic enough." She put two fingers to her mouth and whistled as loud as she could. Being a goddess, it was loud enough to make Ares wince and cover his ears. Heranes turned to walk away, and after a few seconds the mountain shook. The gods and goddesses froze and looked to each other, only to find them without answers as well.

"Heranes!" Zeus demanded, stomping after her and grabbing her by the arm. "What is the meaning of this!? What did you just do!?"

Heranes smirked and looked over her shoulder at him. "Me? I didn't do anything." She held up her hands, and Zeus indeed did not sense of any of her godly magic at work. "I just happen to know somebody who's WAY into picking fights with gods."

Heranes' first act as a deity was to send the message to Wunu Wangkong. The monkey princess had been waiting near Olympus like Heranes had asked her to, and when the whistled signal came, she spit on her hands, dug them into the earth, and started to uproot Mount Olympus. It was tilting slowly, but it certainly was moving. The entire mountain was soon at a 45 degree angle under the force of the deified monkey girl, and the gods above were in a panic. Some hurried to gather precious belongings or artifacts while others manifested themselves away or jumped off the mountain before it collapsed entirely. Hades gave an amused smirk and a shake of his head before wrapping up the servants in a veil of shadow, vanishing from the scene with them. Hermes ran through the sky as fast as his winged sandals would take him, and Poseidon took off with a shake of his head. "Nope! Screw this! I'm going back to the ocean!"

Zeus didn't bother to start running just yet. "You ungrateful little child!" the god-king boomed. "We have lived for countless lifetimes and you think you know better than the gods!?"

"You want ungrateful!?" Heranes snapped, and made good on an old promise: she kicked Zeus right in the dick. The god-king went to his knees with a thunderous shout, Heranes cackling as she ran for the edge of the mountain... and for Hercules. "Hey, Heracles!" she shouted, getting him to turn right before she blindsided him with a clothesline. Hercules was taken clean off his feet and slid down the smooth tile of the floor towards the edge of the mountain.

Heranes turned around to run backwards for the last few yards, flipping both middle fingers at the crumbling Olympus and its few lingering gods and goddesses. "Ass whoopings, bitches!" she laughed before hopping off the edge of Olympus. She landed unharmed beside Wunu as the monkey girl gave one last push, tilting the mountain completely on its side. The giant landmass crumbled to rubble as the heap of earth was moved to an angle it was never intended. Rock and rubble fell over the land around Olympus, which most mortals knew better than to live that close to such an unstable place of holy wrath.

When the mountain was truly in ruin, Hera and Hades manifested beside the heroine and her comrade. Heranes and Wunu appeared to be involved in an elaborate handshake that both seemed to be making up as they went. "Oh my... us. What have you done?" Hera moaned, running her hands through her hair.

"Redecorated. Thought you guys could use some time off your high horses for a while."

Hades chuckled grimly as Hera went on, seemingly too shocked (and maybe afraid) to be angry. "Heranes, that... Olympus was the center of our power! We only have a fraction of our might! We're... we're practically mortals!" she said with a hint of disgust in her voice.

"Well if there's one thing I've learned from all this, mom, it's that there's worse things than being thrown off a mountain and being mortal. Builds character."

"It makes you a disgraceful little whore of a daughter," Hera grumbled, but Wunu drew her staff. The queen of the gods winced and stepped back, but Heranes held up a hand to calm her latest ally.

"Okay, ma... I'm gonna need you to listen," Heranes urged, stepping forward slowly. "Things are going to be stressful for a while, and things are going to be different..." Heranes suddenly lashed out, slapping Hera across the cheek and forcing her into a headlock. Hera shrieked and tried to pull free, but her godly might kept a hold of her, and apparently it was true: she couldn't teleport anymore without the power of their mountain realm to fuel them. Hera just grunted and squirmed helplessly against Heranes' boulder of a bicep.

"Now I like these mortals," Heranes hissed sharply. "I lived with them, and they raised me. Like a REAL mom. And let me tell you something about the mortals and the gods these days: they do NOT like you. They feared you. So you tell the rest of them: if they think they can throw some lightning bolts and lay down some curses now that they're mortal too, just remember that they can be shanked while they're sleeping just like the rest of us. There is no Olympus to hide upon." She shoved Hera away from her, letting the queen of the gods rub her neck gingerly. "Now go work for a living, you spoiled old cunt."

Hera looked her over before she ran off with her tail between her legs. Hades didn't watch her go, just looking at Heranes and shook his head in disbelief. “I told you that we didn’t need another Zeus. Let’s hope this is the best thing for the lot of them.” He swept his cloak of shadows as he bowed low to her before he seemed to sink into his own shadow, presumably back to his underworld.

When the two deities were well out of sight, Heranes caught Wunu's eye, and the Greek burst into laughter until tears ran down her face. The monkey princess giggled along with her and slapped Heranes on the back. "That was fun! We must overthrow a pantheon together again some time."

"Yea, maybe," Heranes grinned, smacking Wunu on the back hard enough to make her stagger and wiping her eyes. "I got some stuff I gotta take care of first, though. See you around, you god-slaying flea bag."

Wunu waved to her as she shrunk her staff to the size of a toothpick and tucked it behind her ear. "Fare thee well, Heranes, Goddess of Ass Whoopings and mighty drunken harlot of the mortals."

"Oh please. It's just Heranes."

Heranes didn't do much with her godhood, all things considered. Being a half-powered goddess wasn't that different than being a demigoddess, now that she thought about it. She went back to find Clymene and Deska, giving them the rundown over a few drinks. Heranes was delighted to find that being a god didn't mean you couldn't get a little drunk, and it definitely didn't stop you from having celebratory sex with your wife. After King Palthas went over the footage from his pendant, Deska had been offered a position as a general in his kingdom's army. Deska had agreed, but Heranes pressed the subject.

"You're going to rob him blind at the first chance you get, aren't you?"

"Oh, aye. A bandit queen's army has got ta come from somewhere, now, dun't it?"

"Des... keep being awesome, alright?"

"Ya have me word."

Heranes backtracked to check on the rest of her allies. She took back her lioness from the arena, though she seemed to like all the playmates they kept sending to her. Heranes went to make sure that Princess Eiko was fortified around her island of ninjas, and that Onua was handling her tribe and her new sacred lions well enough. She didn't bother having people build temples to her, but the goddess of ass whoopings did make sure to go to the swamplands and build a small shrine for Gorus to corrupt with her life-giving mud. She returned to Amazonia to share her tale of victory, her and Hippolyta telling the entire kingdom of their battle against the monster armies over a tremendous feast. Clymene herself was hailed as a hero in her own right, for her skill in battle and for being the bride of a goddess. She heard that Helen's titboxing trend was catching on, and that she'd hold a yearly tournament on something she was calling “Boxing Day.”

And all the while, she never heard of a god or goddess doing so much as smiting someone. It was suddenly all good deeds and favors, trying to stay on the good graces of the mortals who outnumbered them by the thousands, and they certainly weren't about to pick a fight with Heranes again. The gods weren't willing to start a fight they weren't sure they could win.

Once her friends were seen to, Heranes simply decided to buy some land. She still knew her way around a farm, and a handful of magical artifacts made it even easier for her. She had the occasional adventure, redirecting the occasional river and drinking the entire local tavern dry, but she was fine with settling down for a while. It was rewarding work, and they were strong and fast enough that each night they could sit back on their porch, watching the sun go down even without Apollo to steer it. Heranes would sit in her simple chair with an arm around her wife's shoulder, her trusty lioness resting at her side, and (after a simple Amazonian ritual Clymene taught her) her own little demigoddess sitting in her lap. Heranes had made the farm into what she and Clymene were starting to call "their own little Olympus."