Chapter 56
Ares arrives at the fortress where his grandfather had spoken of blood demons, in a burst of flames, his presence igniting the air with an aura of power. As he surveys the abandoned stronghold, his keen senses detect the presence of Valyrian mages and Red priestesses lurking within its walls.
"Should I come inside," Ares bellows, his voice echoing through the deserted halls like a clarion call, "or will you come out and face me like true warriors?"
As the moon casts an eerie glow over the ancient fortress, shadows stir within its crumbling walls. Suddenly, with a thunderous roar, the vampires emerge from the darkness in swarms.
They more animalistic in their appearances and they walked on all fours. Their limbs held sharp claw-like digits that allowed them to shred their prey and their mouths held powerfully sharp fangs used for feeding. The claws were sharp enough to slash humans into bloody pieces. These vampires were seemingly evolved to be blind with no apparent eyes on their faces but were easily able to detect prey.
They move with unnatural speed and grace, their unearthly shrieks echoing through the night air. They give guttural growl emanating from the depths of its throat, echoing with an eerie resonance. Interspersed with these growls are sharp, piercing hisses, like the warning of a snake ready to strike. As the vampire's rage intensifies, its vocalizations become more frenzied, with snarls that reverberate with a feral ferocity.
Ares was looking at monsters and muttered"So these are the so called blood demons or vampires that Valyrian magicians and Red priestess were working on. I must say these numbers would definitely cause a disaster to the world, if left alone."
Ares takes out a medium-sized baton from his back. With a surge of power, the mace sparked to life and tranformed, glowing and burning with a fiery intensity. Into one-handed battle mace gleamed with an otherworldly radiance, its three hammer-shaped flanges jutting out menacingly from the head.
The flanges themselves seemed to pulsate with a red-hot energy. As he swung the mace through the air, arcs of fire trailed in its wake.
Ares, the god of war, descends upon the battlefield with the wrath of nature. His arrival is marked by a deafening crash as he crashes into the midst of the oncoming monsters, unleashing a shockwave that shatters their ranks and throws monsters aside like rag dolls.
With a vice-like grip, Ares seizes one of the creatures by the throat as it attempts to leap upon him, its struggles futile against the god of war's strength. In a blaze of fury, Ares ignites the monster, flames engulfing its form in an instant.
With his mace ablaze with fiery energy, Ares becomes a relentless whirlwind of destruction, each strike sending monsters hurtling through the air with explosive force. The creatures writhe and screech as they succumb to the flames licking at their flesh, their greatest weakness laid bare before the god of war's relentless onslaught.
The firey energy in hammer like flanges of his mace cause monsters to die by bursting into flames.Because flames are one of there biggest weaknesses.
"Come at me!" Ares roars, his voice a thunderous challenge that echoes across the battlefield.
As the vampires converge with claw-like digits poised to strike, their futile attempts to pierce Ares's unyielding skin only serve to amuse the god of war.
As more and more vampires run to with claw-like digits that allowed them to shred their prey, but it did not work his skin was not even pierced but those flimsy claws.
Yet, as the onslaught intensifies and looked like Ares was getting overwhelmed. Ares grin only widens, a glimmer of amusement flickering in his eyes as he summons the full force of his power.
He braces himself and delivers a bone-shattering blow with his mace, slamming it into the earth with such force that a massive crater erupts beneath him.
The shockwave radiates outward, a wave of sheer power that sends the vampires hurtling into the air like leaves in a storm. Ares watches with satisfaction as they are tossed aside, their onslaught thwarted by his indomitable strength.
"Now, that was a good warm-up," Ares declares with a grin, his voice tinged with the thrill of battle.
As Ares gazes towards the fortress, another door bursts open, unleashing a torrent of vampires hell-bent on his destruction. With a gleam of anticipation in his eyes, Ares draws his sword from his waist, holding it aloft as he mutters a primal mantra, igniting the blade in a blaze of fiery determination.
With a smirk of satisfaction, Ares charges headlong into the horde of monsters, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. Each swing of his blade is met with a burst of flames, reducing the vampires to nothing but smoldering ash in his wake. It's a one-sided slaughter, as Ares revels in the thrill of battle, his movements a graceful dance of death.
But as the dust settles and the battlefield grows silent, Ares's satisfaction turns to disappointment. "I thought this was going to be a challenge," he mutters with a sigh, casting a disdainful glance around at the smoldering remains of his fallen foes.
Turning his attention to the looming fortress, Ares's voice echoes with mocking laughter. "Should I come inside and drag you out?" he calls out, his challenge ringing through the air like a death knell.
In response, as four old men, clad in Valyrian garb, and a woman draped in flowing crimson fabric, came out of the fortress, the 4 old Valyrians quickly ran and kneeled before Ares, their voices trembling with fear as they plead for mercy. "Great god Ares," they implore, "be merciful. I prayed you would find peace in your heart..."
But Ares's response is swift and merciless. With a snort of disdain, he silences them with a single stroke of his blade, their heads rolling to the ground in a grim testament to his power.
Turning his attention to the red priestess, Ares regards her with a cold gaze, his contempt evident in his voice. "Do you have anything to say?" he demands, his tone dripping with derision.
The priestess meets his gaze with unwavering resolve, her faith unshakeable even in the face of death. "The Lord of Light will prevail," she declares, her voice steady despite the looming threat of Ares's blade.
But Ares scoffs at her words, his disbelief palpable as he drives his sword through her heart, extinguishing her life with a swift and decisive blow. "Your so-called Lord of Light was just a rat," he whispers, his voice tinged with contempt, "when my grandfather was forging this whole world."
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In the annals of history, the origins of the vampires, or Blood Demons as they are colloquially known, are shrouded in the dark arts of Valyrian magic and the mysterious rites of R'hllor priestesses. These creatures, born of shadow and sorcery, are insatiable predators, thirsting for the lifeblood of the living.
Devoid of eyes, the vampires rely upon their heightened senses, particularly their acute sense of smell, rumored to discern the scent of blood over vast distances. Their physical prowess surpasses that of mortal men, capable of rending limbs with ease and moving with an agility that renders them imperceptible to the naked eye.
The genesis of their menace traces back to their initial hive, a malevolent stronghold razed by the valorous hand of Lord Ares under the directive of Lord Eru. However, despite this triumph, the lingering threat of these infernal beings persists in the shadowlands.
Thus, the mantle of vigilance falls upon the shoulders of the Priest/Priestess of Ares, ordained with the divine blessing of the god of war and steeped in the ancient arts of monster slaying. Theirs is a relentless pursuit, a sacred duty to safeguard the realms of men against the encroaching darkness.
Excerpts from the "Book of Demons" by Scholar Riven from Tower of North
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