“You want to see my magic? I will show some of it to you,” Riley told him, sheathing his sword. As Prudus watched, he pointed at a brawl, consisting of both his own men, slightly outnumbered by Ares’s men. The tip of his finger emitted a sparkle that resembled a star of the midnight sky.
“Are you crazy, some of our men are in the way.”
“Worry not, as this won’t affect our side,” Riley retorted. A black wave of thick mist burst from the sparkle and covered the brawl. The enemies caught yelled in agony as they dropped to their knees. They gasped for breath as they yanked off their helmets, sweating profusely, slime oozing from their mouths. Boils rapidly covered their faces, eyeballs too. Riley and Prudus’s men backed away from the enemy.
“What did you do?” Prudus asked.
“I gave them pure agony,” Riley replied, holding back a grin. To him, it felt good to use an old technique to such perfection. “Ares’s men all have dark secrets they’re hiding. Or pride, enough pride to make them look down on others, even puny humans. The mist manifests each of those thoughts, desires, whatever they could be, and turns them into pure, inexorable pain.”
He glanced at the other brawls. “Don’t just stand there; go help them.” The men obeyed, yelling as they charged. Riley turned to soak in the satisfaction of Prudus’s approving face.
“You have magic that makes men’s own desire kill them?” Prudus said.
“Yes, of course,” Riley replied. “There’s nothing like a deserving, slow and painful death.” He chuckled. “That is but a fraction of what I can do.”
Prudus raised an eyebrow. “I cannot help but be impressed over this single spell. Too impressed. Magic like this is very powerful and difficult for the young. Riley, you look like a young man, a boy perhaps. Is that a guise?”
Riley laughed as if Prudus jested. He calmed seconds later. “I get that a lot, not from words but just stares. But no, this is not a guise. I am as real and handsome as I can be. Age, however, I cannot say since I can’t remember. Maybe I’m younger than Lord Abaddon.”
“Lord Abaddon cannot be measured with time, as he is death, even if they banished him,” Prudus said. A large yell of agony from one of Ares’s men barged over the conversation, but Riley and Prudus seemed uninterested.
“Lord Abaddon is still death, even if his powers are sealed,” Riley said. “Even if wrongly accused of treason, he is still the terror of the night. I will follow him to the end of time.”
“Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your head, Riley,” Prudus said.
“Loyalty. Is there anything wrong with that? Look where strong loyalty has gotten me, Prudus. I’m Arc. I didn’t ask for it. Didn’t desire it, to be honest, but with it, I wish to shower these filthy realms with Lord Abaddon’s glory. Maybe that would . . .” his voice trailed off.
Prudus nodded. “It’s good to hear that, Arc. I always questioned you back then, yet you’ve done nothing but added to Lord Abaddon’s coming. You’re still a mysterious one; no one knows anything about you, from the day Abaddon found you to now.”
Riley laughed. “It’s better that way. There’s nothing worth knowing about me except the glory that I add to our lord.”
Prudus pointed his sword at the air. “This elite commander swears loyalty to you.” He plunged his blade toward the ground. “Do not feel alone. You were always the isolated one among us, Riley. You don’t stand at attention to Lord Abaddon nor fear him. The rest of the elites questioned your intentions a lot. But I see and I hear your loyalty here and wish to envelop myself in it, spread it.”
Riley chuckled. “Try not to flatter me too much, Elite Commander Prudus. You’re a man of power, too, probably more deserving of this position than me. Let us continue to be equals, Arc aside.”
“I cannot do that. You have to glorify yourself and Lord Abaddon with the Arc title.”
“So stubborn,” Riley said. He pointed at another platoon of Ares’s men and showered them with the black mist. They fell to their knees, screaming in pain, slowly dying.
Riley heard a new sound approaching the battlefield like the aching grumble of thunder. It grew louder and louder until he saw a chariot pulled by two great white horses. It stopped a yard from Riley. All eyes turned to the chariot, its twelve-foot-tall horses neighing in pride. A man of shining silver armor stepped out, his glare set on Riley and Prudus.
“It can’t be,” Prudus said.
“I think it is,” Riley said.
“Why would Ares himself show up to a battle like this?”
Ares glanced around and then back at the two. “I take it you’re the leader of this unknown army, attacking my men without reason.”
“I am, yes,” Riley said, wagging a finger at Ares. “Are you angry?”
A lightning-like light, an exotic aura, raged around Ares’s body, producing an outline so bright that it made the area surrounding him as bright as day. His irises vanished as his eyes glowed like lamps. He spoke with a voice that engulfed the entire battlefield.
“I will destroy you! no, i will destroy your soul too! you will regret the day that you challenged me.”
“And that’s why he’s titled the god of war?” Riley asked Prudus.
“This is bad,” Prudus said, his head pouring sweat. “I did not anticipate the appearance of Ares himself.”
“Oh yeah, he’s probably too much for you,” Riley said, “but don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.” He smirked.
“This is no time for games, Arc. We must retreat.”
Riley laughed. “No. You, who stand ignorant of my power shall not retreat unless he somehow kills me.”
Ares held a hand into the air. A mace manifested in his grasps. Riley still smirked.
“I’ll wipe that smug look off your face, you insolent fool.”
Ares charged Riley, swinging with enough power to put full use to the bulging muscles that showed through his armor. Riley sidestepped the mad titan.
“Come on, surely the so-called god of war can do better than that?”
The glow in Ares’s eyes intensified. He pointed at the sky. Thousands of daggers manifested, airborne. He pointed at Riley. The daggers shot toward him like cannonballs, one-by-one. Riley dodged them all. Ares’s eyes widened.
“Oh, Ares, if only you knew who I used to be.” He chuckled. “I’m sure if you did, you’d never challenge me.”
“Who are you?” Ares said in a normal voice.
“I want to tell you so badly, but our purpose here prevents me so,” Riley said.
“you have nerve to mock me!” Ares charged again, swinging the mace. Riley dodged. Ares aimed his free hand at him, a grin on his face. Riley gasped as he saw the power emerging from Ares’s palm. He didn’t have to evade it, so he braced for the blast. The beam bashed him to the ground with the impact of one hundred buffalo. Riley sighed as he saw the dented ground around him. He felt a bit disappointed that Ares’s attack wasn’t even strong enough to scratch him.
He stood up, clapped his hands together, and chanted, “Rise!” The ground rumbled as a hole emerged feet before Riley. Something huge crawled out. It was a human-like black skeleton, forty feet tall, with fiery orange spheres perched in the eye sockets. “Kill him.”
The skeleton lurched at Ares. Ares didn’t move. He placed a hand in front of the skeleton’s bony fist, blocking it. His eyes flashed yellow briefly. The skeleton burst into pieces.
“Oh well, worth a try,” Riley said. “If you died to such a weak calling, your name and honor would’ve followed you to the grave.”
“You’re not taking me seriously,” Ares said softly. “This level of confidence . . . no, it must be a bluff.”
“I have no need to go all-out with you, savage of war,” Riley said.
Ares charged again, eyes flickering like a deadly fire, longing to bash Riley into oblivion. Riley placed a hand in front of his mace, blocking it, unmoving, smiling. “It’s done. Shall I say, long lived the god of war?”
“retreat!” Ares
yelled. “we’re outnumbered! retreat!”
All of Ares’s men dropped all of their weapons and fled. Ares, too, retracted his mace and leapt to his chariot. Riley didn’t bother with a chase. He knew Ares would eventually find out his identity. He’d find more amusement as the shock was released to the realms.
“I’m at a loss for words, Arc,” Prudus said as he approached Riley. “How did you best the god of war?”
“Easy. I don’t fight war with war. Fight it with amusement instead.” Riley smirked. He felt pokes on his shoulder and spun to see a smiling Pandora, helmet in hand, velvet hair flowing.
“Untouched,” she said.
“Women like you are the most dangerous warriors,” Riley said. “I’m actually sad that I missed your combat.”
“You can experience it yourself, too, if you like,” Pandora said playfully.
“I’d rather not. If you and I fight, we’ll destroy the realm.” Riley laughed lightly before turning to Prudus. “Gather up the men. We will return to Lord Abaddon with another celebration of victory.”
More taps on his shoulder. He faced Pandora again.
“You promised,” she said.
He grinned. “Not out here. And besides, I warned you that I was no master of human emotion. When I said I’ll show you what I know, I meant making love. And not the emotion.”
Pandora laughed. “A deal is a deal. You said you’ll show me what you know.”
The two gazed at each other for a few seconds. Riley wanted to take her right here, right now, but he’d never let demons get a glimpse of her body.
“Very well. For now, let us celebrate with the men,” Riley said as he started walking toward the crowd. Pandora grabbed his arm, walking to his side, leaning on his shoulder. He had a feeling that she thought he belonged to her now. Riley belonged to no one, but he loved female company. Especially Pandora’s company.
“Men!” Riley began. “Celebrate! This victory not only glorifies us, but it also glorifies Lord Abaddon. Long live the god of war!”
The army chanted, “Long live the god of war!”
Chapter 39
Jonas made it a routine to practice with Fragment each morning before attending his team meeting. He increased the intensity of his swordplay, hurled more lightning, and sped up his quick drawing. Test day approached fast, perhaps too fast. The morning sky poured with rain as the candidates waited for Larius to resume class. They chatted while listening to its drops angrily clang against the roof.
After he finished chatting with Orline, he faced the class with a grim expression.
“I received word of what class you will be facing at the test tonight.” Jonas silently prayed it wasn’t Class Fire. Though he practiced with Fragment to the best of his abilities for two weeks, that wasn’t enough time to reveal all of his learning and impress Medusa, if that was even possible. “Brace yourself, for your test will be very tough. The class you’re facing is Neptune.” Everyone grew silent. “Yes, it is more than likely you may face off against the prodigy candidate. Some of you may do fine, while others need work. Nevertheless, I trained you hard for weeks. You should be able to hold your own and ace this test.”
At lunch, Jonas tried to find Medusa but didn’t succeed. Bacchus waved him down, and he ended up eating sitting with him, Thor, and Sif.
“What do you think about tonight’s test?” Sif asked Jonas. He forced himself not to look at Thor.
“It may or may not be tough, but I am looking forward to seeing what Neptune’s best can do.”
Cupid stopped at their table. “For only three random people to compete is ridiculous. We all know the new candidate will somehow get selected. If our weakest go up, we lose.”
“Cupid, piss off,” Thor said nonchalantly.
Cupid laughed. “I don’t believe I was talking to you; my words only go to someone with actual manners: Sif. If we lose, Thor, it will because your oversized ego and thick-headedness held us back.” Cupid stormed off, muttering curses.
“He’s one to talk,” Jonas said. “What an ass.”
Bacchus sighed, finishing his last gulp of tea. “Ladies’ man himself, also called heaven’s matchmaker. In person, he’s just a snobby brat.”
All classes sat at the arena under a double full moon. The instructors, servants, Zeus, and Athena stood at ease behind a podium. Anna walked forward.
“Here we are again at the crossroads of strength, will, and of power. Can you defeat the test, or will you succumb to elimination? And elimination isn’t our decision. Pila could eliminate an entire group of you in an instant if she wanted, but it is up to you to prove that you deserve your spot here. And so that brings us to who’s going to compete. Class Ark and Class Fire, please follow instructor Pharaoh and I. Instructors Hatchet and Larius will remain here and guide the rest of you.”
The wait for the competitors from other classes felt like an eternity to Jonas. To face off against Class Neptune already made him nervous. All because of one candidate. One powerful enough to produce nine lightning bolts without any natural abilities, like Thor.
“Larius, you tap on your randomly selected candidates and have them enter the arena. I shall do mine,” Hatchet said. He was a black-haired, bearded man dressed in a long, red robe.
Class Neptune was seated to the far right of them, just out of Jonas’s peripheral vision. He decided to watch Larius instead. Larius walked slowly as a tease, smug look on his face. His first stop was Sif. After tapping her shoulder, chuckling at her surprised expression, he moved to Cupid. Cupid gasped, then said, “This should be easy.”
All seemed silent as the candidates watched Larius seek out his final target. Jonas didn’t want to believe it as Larius walked right at him. He sighed as the instructor marched past him, but suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked to his left to see an evil-grinning Larius.
“All selectees, please enter the arena and face your foes.”
The trio of Class Dragon marched to the center of the arena. The world seemed to change itself as they looked at their opponents. Jonas’s heart skipped a beat at who he saw. He rubbed his eyes to make sure they were not playing tricks on him. But that person was still there, smiling. For some reason, he immediately knew that she held the title as prodigy candidate. Face-to-face with her, his mouth agape, disbelieving.
Veronica.
Chapter 40
Veronica ran to Jonas and showered him with a warm hug while his mouth still hung agape. “I tried so hard to find you,” she said. “At last, we meet again. I’m so happy.”
Before Jonas could say a word, Zeus cleared his throat. “A lovely reunion but save it for later. Return to your side, Ms. Prodigy Candidate.”
“Watch me, Jonas. I want to show you the real me.” Veronica kissed his cheek and then headed back to her post.
“The test will be quick,” Larius said. “Literally. This is the quick cast challenge. On ‘go,’ you must cast a blast of magic as fast as possible and knock your opponent on their ass. Best two out of three. The class with the most match wins will claim victory for the test. Pila will eliminate whoever meets not her tastes, and then we’re dismissed. Everyone except Cupid and Ceres, leave the arena.”
As soon as the arena was clear of the other competitors, Larius shouted, “Face each other and prepare.” Three seconds later, Larius said, “Go.”
Before Ceres could react, Cupid pointed at him and cast a beam of pink of light. The force of the magic smashed Ceres to the ground. He didn’t get back up.
“That looked like it hurt,” Larius said. “As expected of Cupid, he dealt with his foe nicely. One point for Class Dragon.”
Three servants rushed into the area and carried Ceres off. “Next, lovely Sif and lovely Veronica! Enter now.”
Jonas gulped. He still felt confused about her appearance. What did it mean? Sif and Veronica faced each other. Veronica looked confident. Too confident. Sif, on the other hand, was the exact opposite.
“Ready . . . set . . .” La
rius grinned. “And . . .” The two flinched. “And . . . Prepare . . . Go!”
A bright burst of rainbow-colored lightning jolted from Veronica’s direction and laid out Sif. She didn’t get up. Jonas barely processed what happened at first but then realized Veronica cast magic so fast, she didn’t appear to make any gestures.”
“Too easy,” she said. She looked down at Sif. “I’m sorry I overdid it. Please take care.” She exited the arena.
“That human . . .” Cupid said softly. “Where did she acquire such power?”
After the servants had taken Sif to safety, Larius shouted, “Our final contestants will decide this test’s outcome. Jonas and Astral, enter the arena now!”
Jonas and a brown-haired boy of his same build and size entered the arena and faced each other, awaiting Larius’s command.
“Re—go!”
Jonas quick drew his sword from his sheath, his lightning traveling to his opponent before he fully unsheathed. However, exactly at the same time, Astral also fired lightning. Both boys were knocked to the ground but still conscious.
“Good! Try again.”
Jonas attempted his quick draw again, even faster, but so did Astral. The magic collided, and the boys were back on the ground. “Go!” Larius shouted before they stood. The result remained the same with both lightning bolts striking each other at the exact same time.
“We’ll call this a draw,” Hatchet said. “To determine this test, we shall let the two fastest clash in a winner-takes-all showdown. Cupid, Veronica, let’s go.”
Jonas and Astral glanced at each other, nodded, and then exited the arena. Jonas felt that he might have found a new rival, a rival from Class Neptune.
“Alright, Veronica, Cupid, prepare,” Larius said.
“And . . . Readyyyy . . . And . . . Hold . . . Hold . . . Hold . . .GO!”
Jonas didn’t see magic. He simply saw Cupid fall. Class Neptune cheered.
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