With each passing moment, Ares grew heavier and heavier. His regeneration was not keeping up enough for him to move as fluid as he wanted to. The pain of the goring was annoying him, but that wasn't exactly his biggest issue at the moment.
The buffalofolk seemed almost endless. Every time he burnt or stabbed one, another took their place. Ares tried to kick them away, but it didn't work. He stabbed another and tried to pull back, but a horn forced itself through his face which he shifted to flames.
It was then that Ares realised…
'Oh no… this is bad. This is really bad.'
Ares continued to struggle against the enemy, the pain and the noise mixing together before it was too much for him. Even his mind began to melt, but soon the panic set and all he could think about was that he was going to die.
'Not like this! Not like this!'
