"Boom!"
Golden streams of light collided violently with the crimson storm, detonating into bursts of radiance high in the air.
Samael gripped the reins of the celestial steed Pegasus with one hand, the cross spear tucked under his arm with the other. Using the strength of his core, wrists, and elbows, he wove thrusts and feints together, relentlessly probing for weaknesses in the blood-red storm that shrouded Ares.
Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle!
The spiraling black spearhead greedily drew in and compressed the surrounding ether, forming vicious, serpent-like currents. They tore savagely at the blood-red pillar that pierced heaven and earth, stripping away layer after layer of its cocoon-like membrane.
"Athena!"
In mere moments, the berserk war god's Authority defenses were breached as if peeling an onion. Mounted atop his dragon beast, he charged forward. Humiliating memories surged through his mind, driving him to grit his teeth and roar in fury as he brought the Sword of the God of War crashing down.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
The shrill clash of metal rang out like popping beans, rapid and unending. Vast divine power exploded into arcs of light, illuminating the crimson-gray sky. The distorted, expanding torrent of ether piled the waves higher and higher.
The pursuing Colchis fleet looked like ants clinging to fallen leaves amid the towering seas. In this vast ocean, even their fragile refuge teetered constantly on the brink of destruction.
The dragon chariot ridden by the King of Colchis and his son had not even reached the core of the divine battlefield. Merely the outward ripples of divine might caused the normally ferocious dragon beasts to tremble like frightened quails. No matter how fiercely their riders lashed them, the beasts folded their wings tight and refused to advance.
Boom!
Another violent ether storm swept through. Several dragon chariots groaned under the divine shock, creaking and swaying as they plunged toward the sea.
Seeing the maddened sea beasts below, their monstrous jaws gaping beneath the crimson water, the King of Colchis immediately abandoned his chariot. Using the recoil of the impact, he leapt onto the deck of his fleet.
His sons, who carried divine blood, followed his example. Treating the dragon beasts as stepping stones, they decisively abandoned their chariots to save themselves.
At once, the dragon beasts, still warped by divine power and unable to control themselves, met a grim fate. Swarmed by the gathering sea monsters, they were dragged into the depths and became the centerpiece of a grisly feast.
At a severe disadvantage in this environment, these once-dominant creatures of the sky were quickly devoured amid agonized screams and the tearing of flesh. Soon, only bleached skeletons remained, stripped so clean that barely a strand of meat clung to bone, floating pitifully on the sea's surface.
Witnessing the bloody fate of his mounts, even the King of Colchis, a veteran of decades of warfare who prided himself on his courage, felt a chill crawl up his spine.
As if matters weren't dire enough, beneath the surging waves, three warships collided. Long gashes tore open their hulls, seawater pouring frantically into the holds as the ships were ripped apart and capsized in the storm.
With Ares fully occupied fighting his ancient foe, he had no attention to spare to restrain the sea beasts affected by Blood Dominion. More and more out-of-control monsters began targeting what remained of the Colchis fleet.
Fortunately, aside from a small number of personal guards aboard the flagship, the fleet's main force consisted of Ares's Dragonfang soldiers.
Otherwise, with more living bodies and a stronger scent of blood, those frenzied sea beasts would have devoured them all long ago.
Clutching the ship's rail, the King of Colchis was filled with regret.
After the battle at the Sacred Grove, he had already realized how terrifying the strength and background of the Argo's band truly were. With a way out secured, he had never intended to fight them to the death.
After all, His Majesty the King was not so loyal as to willingly sacrifice himself in fanatical devotion to Ares.
At first, his intent to put the Argonauts under pressure and show his loyalty stemmed partly from the War God's hints, but also from his own growing weakness with age. Tilling the sacred fields, sowing dragon teeth, and slaughtering the warriors that sprang from the earth as sacrifices had become an ever heavier burden.
A demigod, after all, was not a god. Aging and death were trials that could not be avoided.
He feared that one day, weakened by old age, he would fail to complete the sacrifice and be cut down by the very Dragonfang soldiers he had raised.
So, all of the King of Colchis's energetic posturing had been nothing more than an attempt to wring bargaining chips from the Argonauts, curry favor with the god of frenzied war, and free himself from the bloody sacrifices that required him to slaughter Dragonfang soldiers.
Unfortunately, his arrogance made him kick a steel plate. Not only did he fail to gain any leverage, he nearly lost his life in the process.
With the crushing defeat of the Colchis Fierce Dragon, the descendant of Typhon, progenitor of all demons and the linchpin of his hopes, the old king who had once grasped the olive branch of fate from Areopagus had long since extinguished those initial ambitions.
Originally, the other side had shown more than enough goodwill. They left him a way out, lifted the curse that bound his fate to the Golden Fleece, and extended an olive branch from Areopagus.
They took the Golden Fleece, and he broke free from part of fate's shackles. It was not exactly a perfect ending, but at least both sides could step down with their dignity intact.
He had even privately reconciled with Athena's foster son and smoothly sent that troublesome group of Argonauts on their way.
Who could have expected Ares to suddenly lose his mind? In a fit of rage, the war god descended in person, took command of the Colchis fleet, and chased the Argonauts out to sea.
Faced with a vicious god who could wipe him out on a whim, even if the King of Colchis wanted to withdraw, he could only march along "loyally" with his chief god, Ares.
What he had not anticipated was how far things would spiral. Even Athena, the goddess of wisdom, had descended personally and was now locked in an uncompromising battle with Ares.
At this point, the situation was far beyond what small fry like them could meddle in.
Yet retreating risked Ares settling accounts afterward, while blindly following along risked drawing the attention of the three goddesses of Areopagus. He could afford to offend neither side.
Now, as the divine battle grew ever more violent, even merely skirting the edge of the battlefield had become extraordinarily dangerous for the Colchis fleet. The old king found himself truly caught between a rock and a hard place.
Before long, however, the battlefield itself made the choice for him.
Authority of the Beast, Monstrous Strength!
A crimson, cross-shaped star flared in Samael's eyes. The muscles of his arm swelled and knotted as the spear in his grasp plunged downward at terrifying speed. With overwhelming force, it knocked aside Ares's horizontally held Sword of the God of War and shattered his left shoulder blade.
Pff!
The force tore through Ares's body and burst out behind him. Golden-red blood sprayed and vaporized, while the surrounding dark crimson clouds were ripped apart into a vast "Great Rift," like a chasm carved across the sky.
Damn it! This is just a Divine Descent tainted with a trace of power. Why is it this strong? Did that woman hide several times her true strength before?
Shame and fury surged through Ares. His steel-hard teeth ground together as humiliation burned with nowhere to vent.
What this god of berserk war did not know was that the faint trace of the authority of wisdom clinging to his opponent's surface was nothing more than a disguise.
That so-called vessel of Divine Descent was, in truth, the most terrifying thing of all.
Hundreds of years ago, even Apollo and the Nine Muses, joining forces, had been defeated by this primordial serpent.
Now, after being tempered by Pandora's Box and gaining the blessing of the Orphic creator-god name [Ophion the Primordial Serpent], Samael was far stronger than before.
To truly threaten him, one would need at least beings on the level of Zeus and his brothers.
Ares could not even defeat Athena, whom he himself had taught. Facing her master directly was even more out of the question.
A lone Main God, and he had even sealed off the sea, cutting off nearby connections to Olympus…
Truly foolish in an almost adorable way. So adorable it made Samael's fingers itch.
At the same time, Samael's vertical pupils narrowed. He leaned his body back, drawing himself into an exaggerated arc like a full-moon bow. The cross spear in his hands became a loaded bolt, ready to fire.
The blended authorities of Fate, Poison, and Time poured into it in a frenzy. One pitch-black divine rune after another lit up, forming a blazing yet sinister black radiance. The chilling killing intent nearly froze the surrounding space.
...
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