Chapter 4: Annoying Little Brat!
(4:17 AM)
"Ugh…"
A groan echoed through the quiet room as a young man—looking no older than seventeen or eighteen—stirred from unconsciousness.
Mid-length black hair fell over his crimson-red eyes, still fogged from sleep. He blinked slowly, his gaze sweeping across his surroundings in confusion.
"Where am I…?"
Then it returned, suddenly a rushing influx of memories assaulted him.
The estate, The grimoire piece, The confrontation, The humiliating defeat.
That brat.
Solomon.
Rage ignited instantly.
Him—the most feared being for over six hundred years—treated like a plaything, thrown around like a freaking ragdoll.
Humiliated, that was what he felt, complete and utter humiliation.
From the darkness beyond the window, he deduced it was still night. Not much time had passed since he had lost consciousness.
"Where is that brat?!" he growled.
He looked around—
—and froze.
He wasn't restrained.
No chains. No seals. No bindings.
He had simply been left… on the floor.
The room appeared to be a luxurious dining area connected to a small open kitchen. Marble counters. Polished wood. Dim golden lighting.
That vexed him even more.
Then—
He smelled it.
Tomato sauce simmering.
The faint sound of utensils shifting.
His head snapped toward the source.
There he was.
Solomon stood at the stove wearing an apron, casually stirring sauce in a pot. A separate pot of freshly cooked spaghetti rested beside him.
Ares' eye twitched.
Despite his rage, he knew one thing clearly—
At his current strength, he wouldn't even be able to scratch Solomon.
Escape.
That was the only logical move.
"Don't bother escaping. You're waaay too slow to outrun me."
Solomon spoke without turning around, his voice playful.
Ares' jaw tightened.
Solomon removed the pot from the stove and began plating the food onto two ceramic dishes that looked expensive enough to cost a small estate.
"Also… good decision not attacking me while I was cooking," Solomon added casually. "You would've just gotten your ass handed to you again if you did. No offense, though…"
He said it with an innocent expression—as if he hadn't just insulted the strongest magus in recorded history.
After plating both dishes, he placed them on the dining table.
"Come on, dig in. I'm a pretty good cook," he said with a wide, almost clownish grin.
Ares stood there for several long moments, his gaze shifting between the food and Solomon.
Three days.
No food.
No water.
He was starving.
The aroma alone made his stomach tighten painfully.
He didn't trust Solomon.
But if Solomon wanted him dead… he would already be dead.
After a long pause, Ares walked over and sat at the far end of the table. He took the plate and began eating.
No gratitude.
No expression.
Just silence.
"Sooo… how's it taste?" Solomon asked cheerfully.
He paused mid-sentence.
"Wait… your taste buds aren't dead, right? I mean, you are basically older than my great-great-grandfather, so—"
Ares shot him a sharp glare.
"…Sorry. I'll shut up now."
Solomon mimed zipping his lips.
For the next few minutes, only the sound of cutlery against ceramic filled the room.
Ares finished the plate completely.
He lifted his gaze toward Solomon.
"You said something before about wanting to help me regain my full strength," he said evenly. "How do you plan on doing that?"
Curiosity.
Suspicion.
His right eyebrow raised slightly.
"When did I say tha—"
Solomon abruptly stopped.
A sinister aura began leaking from Ares.
"What I meant to say was… yes. I do plan on helping you."
Solomon stood, gathering the empty plates and placing them in the sink. He then walked to a cabinet and retrieved two pitch-black books before returning to the table.
He set them down in front of Ares.
"You separated your grimoire into three identical volumes," Solomon began. "When the old magi discovered that three hundred years ago, the major clans searched the world endlessly."
He paused briefly.
"It was only about forty years ago that they finally found the piece hidden in the Loweswater estate."
Ares' expression shifted subtly.
"Of course," Solomon continued, "because you were still alive—thanks to the Sacred Pact between you and your Grimoire Soul—the connection was too strong to destroy any of the volumes. Even after they found all three."
Ares' surprise deepened.
Solomon noticed.
"You weren't very creative with your hiding spots," he added bluntly. "The only reason it took so long to find the estate copy was because no one thought you'd be dumb enough to hide it somewhere so obvious."
Ares stared at him.
Disbelief.
Irritation.
Mild offense.
Solomon sighed dramatically.
"Do you know how disappointing that is? The man who terrorized the world for over three centuries… defeated only by an entire generation of monsters from the Kuro Era… and you can't even play hide-and-seek properly?"
Ares' eye twitched.
"Why are you looking at me like that, brat?" he asked coldly.
"You're seriously asking me that…?"
"Talk."
A faint killing intent seeped into the air.
Solomon blinked.
"You sure you want me to?"
"…"
Ares paused.
Reconsidered.
Then exhaled sharply.
"…Never mind."
This boy's mouth was more dangerous than his fists.
"Good choice," Solomon nodded. "Anyway, since they couldn't destroy it, they enlisted the help of the strongest."
He pointed at himself proudly.
"Me."
He tapped one of the books.
"I safeguarded the second volume."
"And the third?" Ares asked, already sensing trouble.
Solomon scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"It's… in the location I want you to go to."
Ares' crimson eyes narrowed.
"Which is?"
Solomon avoided eye contact.
"The… Global Arts Academy."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Two figures sat across from each other.
The strongest magus in history.
The strongest magus of the current era.
One staring in disbelief.
The other pretending the ceiling was extremely interesting.
"You're kidding," Ares said flatly.
It wasn't a question.
"…Uh… no."
Ares leaned back slowly.
"Wonderful," he muttered dryly.
He dragged a hand down his face.
"Absolutely wonderful."
"The Academy will be holding its entrance trials a few weeks from now. I plan for you to enroll, compete, pass, become a student, and get into the school to find where the last piece is. That's your only way to retrieve all three volumes," Solomon said with a serious expression.
Ares listened intently until, as if sensing something, he frowned.
"Wait a minute… you said search. You don't actually know where the last piece is in the academy, do you?"
"Whaaaat… of course I do…" Solomon replied, trying to play it off while staring straight at the ceiling as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.
"…"
"…Yeah… remind me to make you the first person I kill when I'm back at full strength," Ares deadpanned, exasperation clear in both his face and voice.
"Well, it would be an honor to be targeted by The Damned One himself," Solomon replied in a cheeky tone.