Ares rolled his shoulders, his joints cracking as he stretched. A mad grin pulled at his lips. "Let's go," he muttered, his blood pumping with the rush of anticipation.
Before him stood Tharros, King of Dragons and Proxy of the God of Nature—his favorite sparring partner and eternal rival.
"Every time we spar," Ares thought, "he blasts a hole through me with that monster strength and then casually heals me like it's nothing. Last time, he just pushed his fist forward—and boom, there went my stomach. Bastard."
Still, he respected Tharros. Even more so because his healing from the god of nature meant Ares could go all out.
If he did end up using his Forbidden Technique again—though he wouldn't—Tharros would still piece him back together. But today was a spar, not a war.
No point in destroying the Dragon King's home.
Ares exhaled, and in that moment, the atmosphere shifted.
His aura erupted.
A flood of golden energy burst from his body, the pressure cracking the stone beneath his feet. The skies above darkened, the wind ceased, and the dragons across the palace grounds went silent.
Even the eldest dragons, nestled deep within the mountain, stirred with unease.
Veltharia, watching from the side, gasped and stumbled, her breath caught in her throat as her lungs refused to inhale under the crushing pressure. Before she collapsed, a gentle touch steadied her.
Valmyra, the Dragon Queen, laid a hand on her daughter's shoulder, shielding her from the oppressive aura.
"Hopefully the others haven't passed out," she muttered with a sigh. "He really doesn't know moderation."
Tharros grinned. "Your aura's improved, old man."
"I'll take that as permission," Ares laughed. "You'll regret it."
Without warning, he surged forward.
Stormpulse: Skybreaker.
He flared aura through his spine, reversing the flow through his legs, then launched skyward. With a thunderous crack, he descended in a vicious arc, his blade crashing downward.
The strike carved a glowing line in the air, followed by a delayed explosion as the compressed aura surged out behind it.
The ground split open beneath the blast.
Tharros raised his blade calmly.
Third Fang – Thorn Nest Counter. A reactive shield of thorny vines exploded outward, intercepting the strike. Vines burst in all directions, tearing into the earth, each laced with potent magic.
The collision between aura and nature caused a shockwave that flattened trees a mile away.
"Damn, thought I had you with that one," Ares muttered.
Veltharia, still protected under her mother's barrier, was wide-eyed. "Their moves… the sheer force… it's beyond anything I've trained for."
But Ares wasn't done.
Circulating his aura backward through his body, he created flickering afterimages. Blurs of his form danced around the battlefield, and Tharros matched his speed step-for-step.
The sky itself trembled with their movements.
"You're fast," Tharros called out mid-dash.
"But is this your limit?"
He vanished and appeared directly in front of Ares.
First Fang – Barkbreaker.
With a two-handed overhead slash, he slammed his sword down.
The blow was heavy, empowered by the essence of ancient trees. On impact, the ground buckled and thick roots erupted, seeking to bind Ares.
But Ares's aura flared, burning away the vines. As he leapt backward, Tharros smirked.
Fourth Fang – Solar Bloom.
He stabbed his sword into the ground, and the earth pulsed. Moments later, radiant light erupted, followed by a scorching blast of flame and solar petals.
Ares was engulfed.
Veltharia gasped. "Father, that's too much!"
Valmyra didn't move, her eyes fixed. "He'll be fine… probably."
As the smoke cleared, a tattered figure stepped out. Ares, burned and charred left arm, glared with a half-grin.
"Damn, that hurt. My aura couldn't block all that."
Tharros blinked, looking down at his side. His right arm was gone.
"What—?"
Ares exhaled, smoke trailing from his mouth. "While I took your blast head-on, I used this—"
Stormpulse: Spiral Breaker.
He channeled spiraling aura through his wrist and elbow, his thrust piercing straight through Tharros's guard.
"I sacrificed my arm, but got yours instead."
Tharros laughed heartily. "You lunatic. Well played!"
He reached down, grabbed his severed arm, and reattached it as if nothing had happened. Roots stitched the flesh back together, not even leaving a scar.
"That's cheating," Ares said, grinning. "Showoff."
"Then show me more, Ares god of wars!"
Ares's eyes glinted with fury and excitement.
"The battle's not over yet."
The earth trembled again as both warriors surged forward, their battle continuing in blurs and crashes of divine power.
Veltharia stood in awe. Never before had she seen two beings fight with such reckless abandon, yet such perfect mastery. It was like watching gods clash.
And in truth—it was.
To be continued...