Chapter 9

Ares was about to speak—something to salvage what little dignity he had left—when—

"Ohhh, look at that! The God of War hesitated."

Ares froze.

Slowly, he turned his head.

The serpents.

Oh no.

The serpents were back.

And they were enjoying this.

A particularly smug-looking one—Nihaga—slithered forward in his mortal form, arms crossed. "You know," he mused, tapping his chin. "I always knew Olympus had some fragile egos, but this is truly special."

Ares gritted his teeth. "You dare—"

"Oh, I dare." Nihaga smirked. "You pulled a sword on him like a god… now stand like a soldier who just realized he marched into the wrong war."

The other serpents burst into laughter.

"God of War? Please. You look more like a child who just realized he picked a fight with his father."

"I told you all," another snake hissed. "I told you he’d regret it!"

"This is better than any battle I’ve ever seen!"

Ares looked like he wanted to kill every single one of them.

But he didn’t move.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Because—well.

Medusa was still right there.

Raezel casually slung an arm around Nihaga’s shoulders. "I like this one," he said. "Very observant."

"I am quite perceptive," Nihaga agreed, tossing his hair dramatically.

Ares inhaled sharply. "I hate all of you."

The serpents erupted into even louder laughter.

Ares stood there. Stiff. Unmoving.

A serpent—one particularly large and particularly unimpressed—tilted its head, flicking its tongue before asking the question everyone was thinking.

"Why are you still here, war god?"

Ares exhaled slowly. His grip on his sword had long since loosened, his pride dented, his ego shattered into tiny, embarrassing pieces. And yet, he did not leave.

Instead, his gaze swept across the room, lingering on Medusa, then Raezel, then—begrudgingly—Nihaga, before he finally spoke.

"I want to see if Velmor will get “The Seal.”

The words carried no arrogance, no defiance—only calculated interest.

The hall tensed.

The mortals did not like that response.

King Eldors, however, felt a cold dread creeping up his spine.

Because at that moment, he realized something.

If Medusa granted The Seal, his kingdom would be untouchable. Protected. Not even Ares himself could lay a finger upon their land.

But if Medusa didn’t…

Then Ares would surely return.

And when he did—

He would not come alone.

A shudder ran through the king’s body. His vision narrowed, the edges of the world blurring as the weight of the situation crushed him. His fingers twitched. His throat was so dry it burned.

Ares noticed. And he smirked.

"You see it now, don’t you?"

The king did.

If he failed to secure Medusa’s blessing now, then the moment Raezel left this kingdom, war would follow. A war they would not survive.

Ares took a single step forward, his presence suffocating, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement.

The king barely kept himself from stumbling back.

Because one thing was clear:

Whether through Medusa’s protection or Ares’ wrath—

This kingdom’s fate would be decided today.