The air was thick with the tension of impending battle. Dust swirled around Bell and the towering figure of Ares, who had unleashed his divine form, becoming a colossal avatar of war. The battlefield seemed to bend under the weight of Ares' divine presence, his body glowing with raw power, his eyes burning with rage. The once-proud god stood like a mountain, his war-chariot now a mere relic as he flexed his mighty form.
Bell stood unfazed, the wind ruffling his white battle kimono as his crimson eyes locked onto the god. He could feel the weight of Ares' power, a primal force that emanated from every pore of the war god's body. But he knew this battle wouldn't be won by strength alone.
It's a battle of wits. A test of skill.
Ares lunged first, swinging a massive, glowing sword down toward Bell with the force of a collapsing mountain. Bell dodged the blow with fluid grace, moving faster than the eye could track. The ground exploded where Ares' sword struck, sending a shockwave rippling across the battlefield.
"You can't run forever!" Ares roared, his voice like thunder as he swung again and again, each strike creating more devastation. Bell darted and dodged, each movement precise and controlled. It was clear Ares had centuries of experience in war, his strikes imbued with both power and technique.
Bell's mind raced. His strength is overwhelming, but his movements... predictable. Ares fought like a god—direct, powerful, but without the tactical finesse of a seasoned warrior. Bell had learned from countless battles in the dungeon, honing his skills against monsters and adventurers alike. This fight would be no different.
Bell leaped into the air, his hand glowing with energy as he thrust his sword forward, aiming for Ares' chest. Ares raised his arm to block, deflecting the blow with his armored wrist, but Bell spun in mid-air, using the momentum to kick off Ares' arm and land behind him. His movements were sharp, like a predator circling its prey.
"Impressive," Ares growled, turning to face Bell. "But you can't hope to beat me in a battle of raw strength!"
Bell smirked. "I wasn't planning to."
With a swift motion, Bell activated his magic. His body shimmered as he reinforced himself with his natural energies, a mixture of magic and the deep, untapped power within him. His aura flared, crackling with power as he prepared his next move.
Ares charged again, his enormous fist aimed directly at Bell. But this time, Bell didn't dodge. He met the god head-on, raising his blade and blocking the strike with a resounding crash. The sheer force of the blow sent ripples through the ground, but Bell held his ground.
Ares' eyes widened in surprise. "What…?"
Bell grinned, his voice calm but filled with confidence. "You may be strong, Ares. But I've faced challenges far greater than a god who can't see past his own pride."
Ares roared and swung again, but this time, Bell was ready. He infused his blade with magic, cutting through the air with surgical precision. Ares' divine form had weaknesses—he could sense the fractures in the mortal shell that housed Ares' godly essence.
With a powerful slash, Bell sliced through the air, using a long-range application of his magic akin to an invisible blade. The energy rippled through space, unseen but deadly. Ares swung his sword to block, but Bell's attack bypassed the physical realm, cutting clean through the war god's leg.
Ares let out a deafening scream as his leg was severed at the knee, the god stumbling backward in shock. He fell hard, the earth shaking as his colossal form slammed into the ground. Dust rose into the air, and for the first time in centuries, Ares felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: fear.
"Impossible…!" Ares gasped, looking down at his severed leg. "A mortal… cutting down a god?"
Bell stood before him, calm and unwavering. The wind howled through the barren wasteland, a stark contrast to the chaos that had erupted just moments before. Ares' face twisted into a mask of terror as he stared up at Bell, his pride as a god shattered.
Bell's eyes were cold as he raised his hand, gathering the swirling energy for his next attack. His voice was steady, but there was a weight to his words that chilled Ares to his very core.
"Ares, god of war," Bell began, his tone chillingly calm. "Your bloodlust has led you to this end. Feel the true power of mortalkind."
He began chanting the incantation for his most devastating spell—Hollow Purple. The energy in the air intensified, crackling around him as space itself seemed to distort. A swirling orb of energy formed in his hand, a deadly mixture of attraction and repulsion, the very fabric of reality bending to his will.
"Feel the wrath of a hero," Bell said, his voice carrying over the battlefield. "This is the end."
The orb pulsed with power, a sphere of destruction that could obliterate anything in its path. Ares, still reeling from his severed leg, struggled to move, but he was helpless. The terror in his eyes deepened as he realized that this mortal had truly bested him.
"Hollow Purple!" Bell unleashed the spell, sending the destructive force hurtling toward Ares. The god's eyes widened in horror as the spell struck him, tearing through his divine form like paper. The sheer force of the spell disintegrated his mortal body, his divine essence torn apart by the overwhelming power.
Ares let out one final, agonized scream as his form dissolved into nothingness, the god reduced to mere particles of light. His essence, broken and scattered, was sent back to the heavens—back to Tenkai where he belonged.
The battlefield fell silent. Dust and smoke swirled around Bell as he stood alone in the aftermath, the god of war vanquished. He looked down at where Ares had fallen, his expression calm but resolute.
Bell sheathed his sword and turned to face the battlefield, where the rest of the Rakia army had already begun to retreat in terror. His Familia and allies stood victorious, their battle won. But for Bell, this was just the beginning.
He had become a godslayer—one who could stand against the divine and emerge victorious.