Ares freezes and his complexion pales. He gazes up at the sky, then drops his eyes back to me, hesitation clear on his face. Finally, with an air of resignation, Ares lets out a sigh.
"It seems this battle will have to be put on hold. If we continue, both of us will likely meet our demise." He gives me one last smile, devoid of any humor, before vanishing into thin air.
I am left standing alone on the deserted battlefield, panting heavily. The taste of impending victory lingers, bitter and sweet, momentarily heightening the silence of the night. The echo of our last clash still rings in my ears as I bend to pick up my fallen weapons. My fingers close around the cold, familiar metals, and I can't help but smile. I had held my own against
Ares, the God of War, and lived to tell the tale - barely. This simply indicates that I have increased my strength and progressed as much as possible.
