The Minotaur girl hesitated for a few seconds, then cheerfully nodded. "Alright, I agree!"
The moment she spoke, the golden contract in Ares' hand dissolved into glittering sand and scattered into the wind.
"You're dead!"
Ares didn't even spare a glance at his so-called "lifelong nemesis," Diana. With a twisted snarl, he charged straight at Thea, both swords raised high.
The Minotaur girl, wearing a slightly mischievous grin, hefted her axe and happily joined this "chase and hack down Thea" game.
Seeing the God of War's blood-red eyes, Thea felt only helplessness. How did things end up like this again? With two berserkers closing in, she absolutely couldn't fight back. Yes, Ares had burned half his divine power—but she had burned far more. She had only one option left: run.
And since Diana still couldn't fly, Thea stuck to low-altitude flight, skimming close to the ground.
The battle instantly devolved into a mess—an extremely ugly one. The four of them split into pairs moving in straight lines. Thea streaked ahead, occasionally turning back to loose an arrow. Diana ran behind her, swatting away anything aimed at Thea. Ares and the Minotaur ignored Diana completely, single-mindedly cleaving toward Thea.
Being forced into such a stupid-looking chase made the God of War feel deeply insulted. He kept roaring at Thea, demanding she stop and duel him properly. As if she'd ever be dumb enough to stand still for him. She pretended not to hear a thing, dragging this bizarre parade around the village in wild, looping circles.
Inspired by his shouting, Diana also demanded Ares stop and fight her one-on-one. She went from Amazon tradition to the rules of divine combat, lecturing as she ran. But Ares—half drained, and facing a nearly fresh Diana—had zero confidence. So he copy-pasted Thea's strategy: pretend he heard nothing.
In ancient warfare, attacking a mount was shameful. But Ares, desperate to catch Thea, tossed honor aside and hacked wildly at her flying board. Unfortunately for him, Thea had clearly practiced. Her flight veered fast, slow, high, low—every direction unpredictable. Ares missed again and again. To preserve what shreds of dignity he had left, he finally gave up attacking the board and went back to hacking at her directly.
By their fifth lap around the village, the Minotaur was laughing like she was having the time of her life.
"What the hell are you laughing at?! Are you even chasing properly?! Inside this damn barrier, you should be faster!"
Ares was practically steaming from the skull. Seeing her treating this like recess only enraged him further.
The Minotaur widened her eyes innocently, swung two more axes at Thea—both blocked by Diana—and blinked at Ares as if to say:
See? I'm trying. This is literally my max output.
Her lazy attitude made golden sparks pop in Ares' vision. If she weren't technically his ally, he would've split her in half on the spot.
Thea, of course, noticed. She silently enchanted an arrow and shouted: "Diana! Move!"
Before the words finished, Thea fired a dirt-yellow magic arrow into the ground behind her. A massive crater exploded across the path.
Diana leapt over it instantly.
Ares, experienced and now familiar with Thea's tricks, saw her aiming downward and immediately flew upward.
"THUD!"
"Ow! I fell in! I can't get out! Lord Ares, I've failed you!"
The Minotaur dramatically threw herself into the crater, exchanged a secret glance with Thea, and refused to climb out no matter what she shouted.
Ares erupted. He unleashed a torrent of divine-realm curses—then realized no one understood him and angrily switched to English to continue yelling.
But yelling didn't change anything. Without the Minotaur blocking, Thea summoned a massive elk to stall him, bought just enough time, and then slipped completely out of his attack range.
Now the only person in Ares' sight was a very, very annoyed Diana.
Far ahead, Thea finally exhaled and patted her chest. Anyone would be traumatized after being chased by a rampaging God of War trying to bisect them. Thankfully, she'd escaped with agile, unpredictable tactics.
But she didn't rest long. She knew Diana's defense was superb, but her offensive power wasn't high enough. Thea tried returning the God-Killer Sword—but its will clung to her stubbornly, refusing to go back to Diana. That only made Thea more curious.
Estimating she had recovered about forty percent of her magic, she resummoned her magical duplicate for support while her main body pulled out the quiver's deep-crimson Vengeance Arrow—one of only two Zeus had given Artemis.
It worked especially well on guilty women… but nothing said she couldn't use it normally.
Artemis' rule of vengeance was simple:
Whatever the enemy does to you, the arrow returns in equal measure.
Thea's smile turned cold.
Ares, you maniac… You chased me that hard? Time to pay the bill.
The entire arrow now brimmed with dense divine power—not Thea's, but Ares'. Every strike he'd thrown at her had been converted through the law of vengeance, and because it came from his divine source, the arrow now possessed perfect homing.
Thea didn't even aim. She fired it straight into the sky. The arrow curved on its own and locked onto Ares, who was clashing with Diana.
"Divine artifact arrow!"
Ares recognized it instantly. He knew Artemis' twin arrows well. Seeing this one streak toward him, its properties flashed through his mind.
Damn it.
This wasn't one of Thea's magic arrows—his body wouldn't survive this hit. It could genuinely kill him. He never imagined Thea had been saving it until now… and the divine force wrapped around it was terrifying.
Fortunately, the gods had been struck by Artemis' arrows enough times to develop countermeasures.
Right as it neared impact, Ares split off a clone containing thirty percent of his remaining divinity. The arrow hesitated, sensed the higher divine signature, then veered sharply, chasing the clone. Two steps later—
BOOM.
The divine explosion rocked both Diana and Ares.
Diana, fully armored and shield-ready, shrugged off the blast and kept her guard up.
Ares, however, was not so lucky. The explosion had gone off at his flank. He had no armor, was weakened, and was flung into the dirt.
By the time he crawled out of the dust, he looked utterly miserable.
Years of accumulated divine power—stored while hiding in the mortal world—were now reduced to barely fifteen percent.
With that little power left?
Fight?
Fight what?
Run. Obviously run.