This time, the figure's voice seemed filled with strange admiration. Ares couldn't tell if it was a blessing or a curse.
"Indeed, he possesses such a powerful bloodline!" whispered the figure cloaked in shadow, their voice filled with dark excitement.
"AAH! Bastard, what did you do to me?" Ares screamed, his cry of pain echoing through the cave. His body trembled uncontrollably as a devastating force consumed him from the inside. His soul seemed to break, a torment he had never imagined possible.
"Nothing much, just a bit of my blood essence," the figure replied with malicious amusement, "just to make it easier to possess your body. But I never imagined your lineage would resist. No matter, it's just a matter of minutes before you die."
The figure's words left Ares paralyzed. He had never expected anyone to try to take over his body, and now he found himself desperately fighting against a force he didn't understand. He felt a strange energy trying to protect him, a familiar warmth that seemed to come from something ancient and deep. But it wasn't enough. His strength was fading quickly, and every attempt to resist was futile. After a few minutes, his body gave way, and Ares collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
"It's incredible!" exclaimed the figure, moving closer to the unconscious body. "A mortal surviving my blood essence with only a bloodline… I think I've truly found a treasure! Ahahah!" The laughter echoed like a sharp, unsettling sound through the cave. "I better hurry and possess him before he wakes."
As it advanced, the figure didn't notice that Ares' necklace — a black blade with a crimson gem set in the center — began to glow with a vibrant, pulsating light, almost as if it had a will of its own.
"With this body," the figure continued, "I'll break the chains that have kept me imprisoned for so long. Finally, I'll get my revenge on the Empress of the White Empire. She'll regret refusing my offer… and destroying my body."
When the mist around him dispersed, the figure was revealed: an old man with withered skin, fiery red eyes, and hair, seeming like a shadow of the power he once possessed. He moved closer to Ares, but when he tried to enter the space where the boy's soul resided, something blocked him. An unknown force violently repelled him.
"W-what?" the old man stammered, his face twisted in pure shock. "The laws of the Dao shouldn't perceive me anymore! No, this… this isn't the Dao. Someone must be interfering!"
An invisible force began to pull him away from Ares' body. The old man struggled with all his might, trying to resist, but the power pulling him grew stronger. Within moments, his resistance broke, and his soul was violently torn away.
"AAAAAHHHH!" he screamed, the pain tearing apart his spiritual essence. When he was finally outside of Ares' body, the old man found himself face to face with a mysterious man, radiating an aura of absolute power.
"Who the hell are you? Why did you interfere with my plans?" the old man shouted, his voice filled with anger and desperation.
The man did not answer. He simply raised a hand, summoning a sword made of pure energy. With a decisive motion, he hurled it at the old man.
"Wait! Please, don't kill me! I'll leave the boy to you! I beg you…" the old man pleaded, terror evident in his voice. But the plea was useless. The sword pierced his neck, ending his soul with a clean strike.
The man turned toward Ares, watching him with a gaze full of warmth and nostalgia, like a grandfather looking at his grandson.
"To think that he's the last descendant of our ancient and glorious clan…" he murmured, a note of sadness in his voice. "But at least the heavens had mercy, granting him a talent comparable to the Progenitor."
He lifted his gaze upward, his penetrating eyes seeming to look beyond the cave walls, contemplating the starry sky. He remained silent for a moment, as though communicating with something or someone beyond the visible world.