The Sixth Life of Medusa

15. Burning Coal Hearts

Ares' grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. The effect of the thnitos elixir was beginning to wear off, and with the knowledge came a sense of urgency.

Despite the glow of the moonlight, a swathe of inky shadow blanketed the still army—an entire forest of them staring through the darkness with glowing green eyes. They formed a circle around Ares, the tide of their raging killing intent rising and hovering over him like boiling storm clouds.

But Ares' sword vibrated with barely contained eagerness. "Come," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I move when you move."

Five towering dryad generals shot out of the army formation and formed an even tighter circle around him. Their sturdy tree-like bodies stood several heads above him, and their feet were fused to the ground, forming roots.

This was their fiftieth barrage, and Ares was ready even though his body was in tatters. Sweat trickled down his naked back and stung his healing wounds, and his breathing remained laboured from facing an unending slew of dryads for the past four horai. But this was living. This was medicine.

Releasing a long breath, Ares awaited their repeat attack.

All five of them surged as one, the hardened twigs that formed their arms twisting into lethal lances. Roots tore from the earth, spilling loose soil and creaking as the generals moved.

Ares leapt away at the last moment, and from his position above, he swung his sword. A translucent red arch travelled from his swing and sliced the earth. His attack had gotten two generals, cleanly cutting them in one stroke before shattering their burning coal hearts on its way out. They crumbled to ash.

The remaining generals screeched in response as hardened sharp vines shot from their torsos and rushed at Ares' descending form. With another slash, he severed the vines and landed with a force that sent cracks across the ground.

Sharpened roots burst through the earth and whipped after Ares as he raced for the remaining army. One sliced him across his calf. Another across his back. Ignoring the pain, he willed a second sword into his left hand and sent two slashes ahead. The strikes ripped through the army, forming a wider ash-paved path.

Severed wooden arms, bursting coal hearts and the shrieks of his dying foes heralded Ares' blaze through their lines. He was a jagged red line darting through the darkness. Amid his relentless destruction, counterattacks pierced and slashed at him. Refusing to succumb to his wounds, he gritted forward.

In his wild slaughter, Ares saw it—a burst of white light descending from above and levelling more than half of the remaining army.

"Curses!" Flinging his weapons to nothingness, Ares snatched off his blindfold as his battle euphoria evaporated. His heavy footfalls echoed within the battered training hall as he marched to the stone basin to the left. One of these days, he would get his men to repair the deep cracks across the marble floor.

"Greetings."

Ares clenched his fists in the cool water as a thick wave of her scent reached him. Jasmine was a scent he once loved but now loathed after she shamelessly stole and tainted it. It had to be on purpose. Everything Athena did was deliberate; even something as basic as aura became a weapon in her hands.

"Why are you here?" He unwound the thin leather band around his wrist and used it to tie up his hair.

"I'll wait until your mood is a bit..." She paused. "I'll wait until you've settled."

Snatching the folded towel next to the basin, Ares dipped it in the water before wiping at his face, neck and torso. Though his wounds stung, the feeling paled in comparison to the sensation of her eyes on him.