Ares' grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. The effect of the thnitos elixir was beginning to wear off, and with the knowledge came a sense of urgency.

Despite the glow of the moonlight, a swathe of inky shadow blanketed the still army—an entire forest of them staring through the darkness with glowing green eyes. They formed a circle around Ares, the tide of their raging killing intent rising and hovering over him like boiling storm clouds.

But Ares’ sword vibrated with barely contained eagerness. “Come,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “I move when you move.”

Five towering dryad generals shot out of the army formation and formed an even tighter circle around him. Their sturdy tree-like bodies stood several heads above him, and their feet were fused to the ground, forming roots.

This was their fiftieth barrage, and Ares was ready even though his body was in tatters. Sweat trickled down his naked back and stung his healing wounds, and his breathing remained laboured from facing an unending slew of dryads for the past four horai. But this was living. This was medicine.

Releasing a long breath, Ares awaited their repeat attack.

All five of them surged as one, the hardened twigs that formed their arms twisting into lethal lances. Roots tore from the earth, spilling loose soil and creaking as the generals moved.

Ares leapt away at the last moment, and from his position above, he swung his sword. A translucent red arch travelled from his swing and sliced the earth. His attack had gotten two generals, cleanly cutting them in one stroke before shattering their burning coal hearts on its way out. They crumbled to ash.

The remaining generals screeched in response as hardened sharp vines shot from their torsos and rushed at Ares’ descending form. With another slash, he severed the vines and landed with a force that sent cracks across the ground.

Sharpened roots burst through the earth and whipped after Ares as he raced for the remaining army. One sliced him across his calf. Another across his back. Ignoring the pain, he willed a second sword into his left hand and sent two slashes ahead. The strikes ripped through the army, forming a wider ash-paved path.

Severed wooden arms, bursting coal hearts and the shrieks of his dying foes heralded Ares’ blaze through their lines. He was a jagged red line darting through the darkness. Amid his relentless destruction, counterattacks pierced and slashed at him. Refusing to succumb to his wounds, he gritted forward.

In his wild slaughter, Ares saw it—a burst of white light descending from above and levelling more than half of the remaining army.

“Curses!” Flinging his weapons to nothingness, Ares snatched off his blindfold as his battle euphoria evaporated. His heavy footfalls echoed within the battered training hall as he marched to the stone basin to the left. One of these days, he would get his men to repair the deep cracks across the marble floor.

“Greetings.”

Ares clenched his fists in the cool water as a thick wave of her scent reached him. Jasmine was a scent he once loved but now loathed after she shamelessly stole and tainted it. It had to be on purpose. Everything Athena did was deliberate; even something as basic as aura became a weapon in her hands.

“Why are you here?” He unwound the thin leather band around his wrist and used it to tie up his hair.

“I'll wait until your mood is a bit…” She paused. “I’ll wait until you’ve settled.”

Snatching the folded towel next to the basin, Ares dipped it in the water before wiping at his face, neck and torso. Though his wounds stung, the feeling paled in comparison to the sensation of her eyes on him.

“State your business and leave.”

She said nothing; instead, he felt her gaze slide over him like a giant slug. That tainted scent grew heavier in the air and pressed around him, trying to force him to remember.

“Why do you do this?” she asked at last.

Discarding the towel, Ares gripped the rim of the basin as he shifted his gaze to the stand that held the elixir. He caught a glimpse of her. She was leaning against the wall with her arms folded across her chest.

“I will train however I please.”

Athena casually retrieved the half-empty vial and glared at it with a venom that did wonderful things to her supposed beautiful face. At least she spared him the sight of that distasteful glow she loved to flare in the presence of other gods.

“This.” Her focus drifted in his direction. “This is not about training. It’s something else.” There was a faint sound of a crack as her grip tightened around the vial. “Are you one of them now?” Her brown eyes flashed golden as the air around her grew sharp. “Have you switched allegiance?”

“Use that revered wisdom of yours to get your answer.” Ares was in no mood for this. That had been an excellent battle training she had interrupted. His irritation was beginning to morph into rage.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Tell me why you use this vile thing!” She flung the vial. The bottle whizzed past Ares’ left ear and shattered against the wall.

Rage replaced irritation in a snap. That sickness Ares fought to suppress whipped awake, feral eyes twitching about in search of what to lash at. His voice turned to ice. “Do not touch my things, you pretend despot.”

She bristled, fists clenching at her sides as she took a threatening step in his direction. “How dare—”

Seeming to recover from whatever seized her, she sent a sultry smile his way. Her aura flared with light as her scent thickened like poisonous gas around Ares.

Cocking her head to the side, her swinging earring caught the sunlight. “Oh, brother, I seem to have angered you.”

“You are no blood of mine,” Ares said with a tired sigh and straightened. By the earth and sky, he was sick of this.

In a blink, she was inches from his face. Even though she was tall for a female, the top of her head barely grazed his chin. Ignoring his obvious irritation, she rested her palm on his chest and tutted.

“These wounds…” Athena's eyes hardened as they roamed over his bare arms and torso. “I hate them. Do you do this because of her? Is she the reason you punish yourself?”

When a wave of healing essence washed over Ares, he snatched Athena’s wrist, breaking her contact with his skin. “Don’t.”

“I see.” She wore a sad smile. “Little brother dislikes my touch.”

“You are mad, Athena. Your delusions have overtaken you.” Maybe one day his words would break through the granite walls of the lies she had internalised over the years. What sickened him the most was her absolute belief that they were siblings and still desiring him all the same.

Ripping her hand from his grip with ten times the needed force, Athena struck Ares across the face. And again with an even harsher strike. Pain blossomed across his cheek as the taste of blood flooded his mouth.

Kill this wench. A guttural wheezy voice hissed within Ares. Slit her throat. Ares swept away the enraged plea like one would shoo an insufferable puppy. No longer would he succumb to the whims of a tired curse.

“Since you long for the weakness of mortality, let me show you strength.” Athena aimed another blow at his face, but Ares stepped away at the last moment.

“Stop,” Ares said with a hollow disinterested voice.

“Do not tell me you still cling to that idiotic rule of yours.” Athena's features twisted as she rushed at him. Her sword materialised in her grip and with it she slashed upward, catching Ares across the chest.

Ares hissed. The burning pain of her strike was a hundred times more agonising than those of the dryad army. Maybe it was foolish to take the elixir before training. If he had known Athena would pay a visit after more than five decades, he would have been better prepared.

“Is that a hiss I hear?” Disgust tinged her voice as she assailed Ares with more brutal swings from her sword. “What have you been up to these years?” Another cut, this time across the arm. Blood dripped to the cracked stone ground. She seemed to grow more enraged at the sight of his blood.

Her shield manifested, and she slammed it against the side of his face. Ares stumbled from the force of the hit, his vision swaying and dotting with stars. “I AM ZEUS’ GENERAL, DAMN IT! FIGHT ME LIKE AN EQUAL.”

Ares’ curse wailed within him. In times like this, he loved to imagine the curse as an emaciated hound with patchy red fur and feral amber eyes. Now it begged as it shook with bloodthirsty longing. Are you not the god of war? Have you no shame? Just a moment, it whimpered. All I need is a single moment. Please, let me kill her.

We’re immortal, you idiot.

Tired of the confrontation, Ares caught Athena’s shield before it hit his face the second time. “Why have you sought me out?” he asked with a bored sigh. “Seeing your face has ruined an otherwise pleasant morning.”

“Allow me to ruin it more,” When Athena slashed down, Ares drew from his essence and slapped the sword aside. The weapon flew across the hall and pierced the opposite wall with an explosive force.

“Stop.” Ares’ face hardened.

Athena glowered in response before suddenly smiling flirtatiously. “My handsome brother has made it boring.”

As Ares turned to the basin, he caught sight of what remained of the shattered vial. Did she know how difficult it was to get one of those? Rage rekindled but he stumped out its flames with another sigh. Visiting Tartarus would be a pain.

“Father commands you to add a contender to the Fate of Heroes.”

Ares stiffened. Of all the news he expected, this was the least of his guesses. “And why invite me to the party now?” Zeus knew his blood was cursed. What was he up to? “I have no temple to my name.”

“It’s no longer about temples, and you know it.”

“Do I?” Ares looped the damp towel over his neck and strolled to the door. He was dying to get out of here.

“Do not think too highly of yourself, Ares.” Cold warning laced her voice.

Ares paused and gazed up at the frescoed ceiling. It depicted him. Fiercely glorious in a raging battle. Hair like blood. Eyes like death. Bringer of sorrows. Maker of orphans.

Think of hares. They're like hares, son.

Ah, this doglike existence. Ares shut his eyes. Nothing he'd do would ever be enough. No price could ever cover this debt of death.

“When Father gives a command, you obey like the good mutt you are. Pick at least one contender before the next Fate of Heroes,” she said before marching past him in a huff and winking out of sight.

Tension poured off Ares in a relieving rush as he pushed the tall double doors open and drew in a lungful of Athena-free air. By Nyx, it was suffocating in there.

For the longest time, he stared at the landscape before him. Nothing but lush rolling hills and valleys as far as the eyes could see. Yet, peace of mind remained elusive.

Mingling with other gods and catching up on the latest happenings in the land of mortals was not a pastime Ares enjoyed. But it was foolish to stay away for this long. Now he was clueless about Zeus’ plans. Being clueless always resulted in becoming a witless pawn.

Ares groaned in exhaustion. If his calculations were correct, he had to pick a lamb willing to take this cursed blood. Choosing one of his men was out of it. The other option left was getting one from the mortal lands or Tartarus. It took little to decide.

“Tartarus it is,” Ares mumbled as he made his way to the barracks.