Across Their Realms

Hermes descended swiftly, his sandals' wings beating against the turbulent winds. The air here was also filled with the scent of blood and burnt flesh. Hermes can see the remnants of battle clinging to the ruins below.

Ares stood at the edge of a shattered precipice, gazing down at what remained of his once-proud domain.

His crimson cloak looks tattered and scorched, billowed slightly in the wind but his posture remained straight.

His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his fingers curled into tight fists. The battlefield stretched beneath him and it looks like a grim tapestry of slaughter.

The war god's forces had fought back with their characteristic brutality. Piles of bodies — both corrupted and untainted — littered the land, weapons still embedded in flesh, armor shattered and stained with blackened blood.

Ares had not hesitated. Unlike Hermes who had tried to contain and study the corruption, Ares had opted for a more direct approach.