It only took a moment to cast away the hands of death. Their grip had been weak, but that's how it always started. When life began to slip into the underworld, it would only be a matter of time before a demon could find their life force and feed off of it. He would know, he'd sent a number of demons to the underworlds himself. But that was the thing with having immortal enemies. They just won't die!
The shadows around him dissipated, leaving only a slight chill in their place. He knelt in the dirt, holding his hands up in prayer. That was probably one of the stranger things only a demigod could say they could do; pray to their father.
Oh Hades, god of the underworld, watcher of the dead, I call upon thy name. I have finished thine quest and sealed off the hands of the dead. The prophet will live.
All was quiet for a moment. But anyone could have seen that something was happening. The crickets weren't chirping, the insects weren't flying, the wind didn't dare blow.
No, my boy, an echoing voice thundered. If it hadn't only been in his head, the ground would have shaken. Demons approach , still chasing the scent of death that lingers in his surroundings. If he should perish before the dream can come to him, you fail.
He bit his tongue, pushing back his protests. The deal was still on, that's all that mattered. But now, it included a fight with demons. The thought was unpleasant, to say the least. One demon was hard enough to take on, even more so if you were trying to keep them from killing someone else. But more then that... I'll just have to get creative.
He couldn't sense the demons yet, which meant they were at least a day away. But if they could smell the scent of death, they had to be fairly close. Two days, tops.