Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality-Chapter 809 - 301: The Armless ’Venus

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The vows of the gods held their own power, and Ares, in his wrath, was no different.

As he spoke, the rules corresponding to his godhood resonated.

If he were facing another mortal, under the influence of the order of war, Ares might have easily taken them down—though it was uncertain what cost he might pay.

But at this moment, an immortal god and an undying mortal gazed at each other from afar.

One was gifted with the essence of immortality by earthly might, and the other, baptized by the Styx River, possessed an undying body under the ritual track’s protection.

At this moment, no one knew who would finally emerge victorious in this conflict over the name "War God," yet all were clear that since neither would die here, the struggle would not cease.

Apart from the fabled Goddess of Fate, no one could predict their fate, and perhaps even the Goddess of Fate herself could not know.

"Kill!"

On the battlefield, with a single word in response, Achilles tossed aside his spear and strode forward.

The weapons of mortals had reached their limit; they couldn’t clash with a god’s weapon, even if it wasn’t a true divine artifact.

This godly weapon, in others’ eyes, had no right to participate in this struggle; against a true deity, Achilles could only rely on his own body rather than a weapon.

"Audacious!"

With a shout of rage, Ares, opposite the hero, raised his angry brow and glared furiously.

A mere human daring to disdain him so, even discarding their weapon.

In such a case, if he advanced with his sword, even in victory, Ares feared he would become a laughingstock among all gods.

Clang—

He tossed his shield and sword onto the bronze chariot, making a crisp metallic clash.

Ares abandoned his weapon and also strode forward, preparing for a hand-to-hand fight with the foe.

Even though not all mortal martial arts originated from him, Ares was certainly familiar.

With a dull thud and the ground vibrating, in the center of the battlefield, two perfect statuesque bodies collided.

Boom—!

The primal combat clashed fists and palms, with strength meeting strength without frills.

In original mythology, Heracles once bested the Divine King Zeus, who hadn’t revealed his divine form, shocking gods both above and below.

Now, the War God Ares indeed still did not match Zeus, but Achilles was still an unknown; today, his existence became known to the world.

Regardless of victory or defeat, this battle of the War God against the "War God" would certainly be recorded in history, for future generations to admire and revere their predecessors’ exploits.

Boom—!

"Ha ha ha ha ha... Ares, is this all you’ve got?"

In the blink of an eye, they exchanged tens of rounds, while soldiers nearby were struck dead.

It wasn’t until a punch landed on his face, sending Achilles flying into a pit on the ground, that he momentarily paused.

Yet, despite the hero of the mortal realm being injured, Ares wasn’t faring much better. Kicked in the waist by the young hero, had it not been for his divine body’s resilience, his innards might have been pulverized.

For a while, Achilles couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Though he wasn’t obviously winning and there was still a disparity in strength, he knew he was bound to win this battle.

His opponent wasn’t just anyone; it was the War God Ares.

As the master of war, his every move was influenced by his authority. The more formidable Ares’s momentum, the more intense his will to fight, the more power he displayed.

Conversely, if he couldn’t seize victory, what he possessed would gradually slip away.

After all, war always favored the victor, and even the courage of a desperate encounter would diminish twice, thrice, until exhausted.

"Damn it, mortal, do you really think you can best me?"

"Even without my guard here, don’t think you can defy me!"

Aware of the problem’s severity, Ares cursed himself for not being born earlier.

Unlike the Titans deities of the Second Age, perhaps due to the world’s initial opening, the deities were also influenced by the world, leading those ancient sacred beings to possess immensely powerful true forms and physiques.

Thus, they were born knowledgeable, with many reaching maturity at birth.

Yet, as a later deity, even though Ares, as War God, was stronger than his siblings, it still couldn’t satisfy him.

"Heh, just some unknown method to temper this unyielding body... yet I can sense it, this state of neither life nor death is far from normal."

"There is no power in this world that comes effortlessly. An undying body... do you think you’re truly invincible?"

With a sneer, after a brief fight, Ares deemed he had seen through the illusion.

During their earlier encounter, he had felt it, that within Achilles’s body, Ares couldn’t sense any sign of life, and there was a faint natural hostility and repulsion against a deity.

This feeling resembled something he had once experienced in the Underworld, an aura from the Styx River that even gods feared.

The Styx River, upholding the vows, maintained divine order, and its punishment for breaking vows originated from the broken order’s innate hatred towards a deity’s presumptuousness.

Thus, besides being called the River of Oaths, Styx was known to the world as the River of Hatred, for it indeed silently harbored this primordial animosity.

However, such power, feared even by deities, was much more lethal to humans... When deities touched it, it merely dissolved their divine power and eroded their godhood, but mortals touched it only to meet certain death.

Even the offspring of gods and men could only withstand it for a time, not dying immediately upon contact.

Due to the non-human, non-divine aura within them, these demigods could allow the power of the Styx River to reside in their bodies for extended periods, though still within limits.

No living being could have every inch of their flesh and blood tainted by the Styx River’s power unless they had already eternally fallen into its depths.

Considering this, Ares couldn’t help but show a cruel smile, and his aura flourished once more.

As long as his battle spirit remained strong, as long as he sincerely believed in his victory, this mortal could never surpass his own power!

Let me find its flaw...

Boom—!

The great battle resumed, yet this time, even at the cost of taking damage, Ares unhesitatingly sought out Achilles’s weakness.

Don’t let me find it... Achilles is it? I’ll remember you.

You indeed have some skills, but soon, this will be your end!

...

Whoosh—

On the mortal world, outside the Mycenae encampment, the sudden outbreak of battle indeed drew Ares’s attention.

Yet besides him and the ever-watchful Apollo, another deity happened to be nearby.

The Goddess of Beauty, Aphrodite, was troubled because she bungled the matter of the Goddess of Agriculture Demeter.

Furthermore, with her nominal husband not returning to the Mount of the Gods, she stayed here and noticed the commotion.

Of course, the Goddess of Beauty’s perception couldn’t match that of the War God, nor could her speed surpass Ares.

So when she arrived, she only saw Apollo’s distant figure and the War God engaged with Achilles.

Dust and smoke billowed on the earth, yet didn’t escape the gaze of the goddess.

With just one glance, she discerned the situation.

Ares had utilized all his means, while Achilles fought more courageously.

As time went by, the War God gradually realized that despite his varied trials, the keen insight granted by his war godhood hadn’t glimpsed this mortal’s flaw.

Vaguely, his godhood even gave him a premonition—the man before him "had no flaw."

Despite its incredibility, the feedback from godhood couldn’t be wrong.

For a moment, his once-surging battle spirit seemed doused with cold water, and Ares carried injuries from his previous confrontations.

Although these were self-inflicted costs to probe his opponent, others couldn’t know his thoughts.

From an observer’s viewpoint, it looked like Ares was being overpowered by a mortal, with no ability to fight back.

"This useless fool!"

Gritting her teeth slightly, Aphrodite felt a fury burning inside.

Yes, I screwed up Demeter’s affair, but if it weren’t for you, Hera, would I have married this useless Ares?

Also, you, Ares... War God, more like the God of Defeat.

You can’t even beat the gods, now even some unknown mortal doesn’t take you seriously!

"Hu—can’t be angry, I must first take him away."

"Though Theseus is dead, your mistake could be excusable. If you lose again..."

Despite her discontent, Aphrodite decided to secretly assist; once the mortal was repelled, she’d leave with Ares.

Not to mention, Ares always fawned over her, with the great battle close at hand, the foundation of faith in the War God couldn’t waver.

Facing Athena in the future, she’d need the authentic War God to exert his power.

Thinking this, Aphrodite quietly concealed herself, sneaking towards the battlefield.

Such stealthy divine arts could easily be seen through, yet it depended on who used it and who the enemy was.

Divine arts personally used by a deity were indeed formidable, more so as the opponent wasn’t another deity.

Hence, silently, the Goddess of Beauty bypassed the gathered soldiers, reaching Ares’s bronze chariot.

There, Ares had conveniently left a bronze short sword for use in a surprise attack on the mortal...

"——!"

Touching the sword hilt, Aphrodite just looked up, meeting a gaze full of murderous intent.

She stepped back instinctively, evidently frightened.

Yet, before she could react, she heard an arrogant and mocking laugh and saw a figure flashing rapidly.

"Ha ha ha ha ha... Is this what gods are like?"

"Can’t win in a duel, now you try to ambush? Fine, let me see what you are, and what tricks you have!"

With the innate sensitivity of the Styx River’s power to divine aura, Achilles had long perceived Aphrodite’s approach from afar.

Merely unsure of her intent, and since her aura wasn’t sharp, unlike a combat god, he hadn’t paid it much heed.

However, Achilles hadn’t expected the deity sneaking in to approach Ares’s chariot, intending to use a sword in a surprise attack, which incited his wrath.

Very well, if you won’t follow the rules, then don’t blame me for bullying the weak!

Instinctively classifying Aphrodite among the "weak," Achilles closed in on the Goddess of Beauty in one step.

Perhaps trusting too much in his own war god’s intuition, and Ares trusting too much in the Goddess of Beauty, they failed to notice until too late; Ares hurriedly sent a punch from behind.

However, with his undying body, Achilles paid it no mind, taking bold strides forward, reaching for the bronze sword from the goddess.

"Clang—!"

"Let go!"

The sword struck his chest, yet Achilles seemed unscathed.

He grabbed the blade, snatching it from Aphrodite.

Having never encountered such, Aphrodite was petrified, yet Achilles wasn’t about to wait.

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Seizing the sword hilt, the young hero slashed powerfully.

"Rip—!"

"Ahhhhhhh—!"

"Ha ha ha ha ha..."

Laughing aloud, Achilles caught the goddess’s severed arm.

Seeing Ares catching up, he leaped away rather than tarry.

"The War God’s disgrace, unable in combat, relying on numbers for advantage."

"The Goddess of Beauty’s incompetence, armed with a weapon, yet no match for my bare fists!"

"This sword shall be my spoils of war; today, I cleave a god’s arm, sparing you for now. On another day we battle, let me see what other means you possess!"

Though he hadn’t reaped much reward, Achilles found satisfaction.

The notion of seizing the war god’s position was largely rhetoric, after all, the divine right was inalienable, a historical consensus.

Having claimed the sword, and severed a divine arm, Achilles deemed these ample gains.

Feeling weary, he opted to retreat, to gauge the other side’s response.

"Presumptuous, vile mortal! You—how dare you!"

Seeing his wife’s arm severed, Ares was furious at his words, yet hesitated upon gazing at Aphrodite’s severed arm, ultimately not pursuing.

Though the foe incited wrath, leaving Aphrodite alone wasn’t an option. Besides, considering his current power, even catching up wouldn’t suffice against Achilles.

So the top priority was returning to the Mount of the Gods, to the realm free from mortal constraints.

Without divine aid, relying merely on this generation’s deities’ self-healing, who knew when severed arms might regenerate?

Moreover, this brash rogue proved exceptional, rendering Ares contemplative about his next steps.

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