He had fought the Spathi Daimons every step of the way, and one of them had told him of the Dayslayer who would unite their people and destroy the Dark-Hunters. The Spathi had laughed as he died, telling Zarek that the reign of the Dark-Hunters was over.
The Dayslayer would take back the human world and then they would take down the Olympians.
As each night passed and the Spathis increased in number, Zarek realized exactly what the world was facing. Every human village he passed was destroyed. The people dead. Slaughtered. Consumed by the Daimons who didn't want to die.
He'd never seen such devastation. Such waste.
Had he possessed a Squire, he would have sent him on to warn the other Dark-Hunters or to find Acheron and bring him here to help fight. As it was, there was only him and he wanted to stop the destruction before anyone else suffered.
Cold and hungry, Zarek had fought his way to the Apollite village that protected the mysterious entity who had slain his people.
Zarek had arrived only an hour after sundown. As was typical, the Apollites had made their homes underground. The catacombs had been dark and frigid and completely devoid of any souls. Back then, the Apollites had often made their homes near the dead so that they could take the bodiless souls if they needed a quick pick-me-up. In addition, it provided them with a shield. Since Dark-Hunters were comprised of soulless bodies, those souls who needed bodies had a nasty tendency to want to possess them. So catacombs and crypts made the best hiding places for Apollites and Daimons.
Since all the souls had been stripped before his arrival, Zarek had easily found his way through the catacombs.
As he searched the corridors and rooms of the underground lair, he discovered there weren't any Apollite or Daimon families present, only evidence of them having left in a hurry.
In one room, he found a woman with an infant who was weeping.
She looked up at him with a gasp.
"I won't hurt you," he said.
She started screaming for help.
Zarek had backed out of her home and shut the door.
His thoughts had been focused on only one person.
Thanatos.
The thing the Spathi had told him had been sent by Artemis to kill all the Dark-Hunters. She who was their creator had betrayed them and created an invincible monster.
Unless he stopped it first. He had hated Artemis then. Hated her not only for creating Thanatos, but for unleashing something like this on the world without warning anyone.
As he moved through the catacombs, Daimons and Apollites attacked him. He fought them off, killing anyone who came at him with a sword. No, he hadn't cared if they were Daimon or Apollite. It hadn't mattered.
Only his vengeance had.
He'd found Thanatos down one of the longer corridors. He'd been with a dozen of his people in a chamber where the Apollites stored textiles.
Zarek had counted five Apollites there and eight Daimons.
But what had given him pause was the lone Apollite woman who had been standing beside Thanatos. She was dressed like the Spathis and stood ready to fight.
Thanatos had smiled evilly at him.
"See," he had said to the Apollites and Daimons gathered. "He is but one while we are many. The Dark-Hunters are not so fierce. They can't combine their numbers without it weakening them. We can kill them as easily as they kill us. Pierce his mark and he dies just like the rest of you."
They had rushed him then.
Zarek had tried to fight his way through them. But they had fought with more strength than he'd ever encountered before. It was as if they were drawing power from Thanatos.
They had overtaken him and thrown him to the ground while they ripped at his clothes trying to find his mark.
He'd already been wounded by previous fights. Weakened by his hunger.
It didn't stop him from fighting with everything he had.