Looking at the desperately struggling Erebus, then at Nyx behind him, smiling coldly without pause, Russell was filled with mixed emotions.
The Dark God had a strong will to survive, but the coffin lid had already been nailed shut. Whatever he said now was too late.
It was not that Russell had refused to warn him. Rather, even an impartial official could not settle family disputes. Helping one would offend the other, and since Nyx called the shots in the dark family, the answer was obvious.
It was like the Elf Queen's family. Whenever Gandalf paid a late-night visit, he would sit down and discuss philosophy with the Queen rather than choosing that other person. The reasoning was the same.
Besides, though Russell had said nothing, he had kept signaling Cronus with his eyes, telling him to make some noise and warn Erebus.
In the end, the guy was not drunk at all. His mind was perfectly clear, and he pretended not to see every single look Russell gave him.
"Everyone says Nyx is graceful, intelligent, wise, and sharp-eyed, while I'm just a lazy good-for-nothing decoration..."
Erebus raised his glass and continued fighting for his life. "I can tell you the truth. Yes, that is exactly how it is. It is all thanks to Nyx."
"Erebus, you've had too much to drink..."
A faint voice drifted over from behind him. Erebus turned around in surprise. "Nyx, when did you get back?"
"A little while ago."
Nyx stepped forward, pressed down on the wineglass in Erebus's hand, and said gently, "You've had too much to drink. I heard every bit of drunken nonsense you said."
Beside them, Hecate covered her mouth and snickered. She loved this plotline to death.
"I'm not drunk!"
Erebus shook off Nyx's hand, reeking of alcohol. "Drunk?