130

Chapter 130: The Painting Style Gradually Goes Astray

Ares glanced down at Peter, sensing from the start that peaceful coexistence was never on the table.

"It appears you've chosen force as your solution," Ares growled, eyes flashing with anger. "Very well, let's do this."

With a surge of divine lightning, he unleashed a bolt towards all three of them.

Years had tempered Ares. Had he been young and hot-headed, he might not have delayed the fight until now, opting instead for earlier confrontation.

Steve No. 2 had never witnessed such a spectacle. Though recently acquainted with heat vision's power, it had never been directed at him. He shut his eyes in fear.

Diana instinctively stepped forward, shield raised, shooting a sidelong glance at Peter. "Be cautious!"

Her words targeted Ares, a true god of war, ready to fight fiercely, perhaps even sacrificing herself.

Black Superman, despite his own formidable powers, faced Ares, a deity. The odds were with Ares.

Moments later, searing beams grazed Diana's cheek, their intense heat palpable. She dodged instinctively, witnessing the clash of heat vision and Ares' lightning.

Without hesitation, she pressed forward against the lightning after the clash.

Ares, confronted by the heat vision, felt the immense pressure immediately bearing down. Despite amplifying his divine power, the lightning faltered against the relentless heat vision.

Inevitably, the searing beam blinded Ares once more. This time, defeated, he was violently thrown back, crashing to the ground.

Bystanders, now sensing the truth, reacted in panic. A strange man in odd attire with glowing red eyes, and another who appeared only to be swiftly felled.

"Run! It's the devil!" shrieked some women, igniting chaos as they fled. Meanwhile, others, intrigued, peeked out from bunkers.

Steve No. 2 opened his eyes, greeted by the familiar azure sky. Relieved to find himself unharmed, he exhaled deeply.

Diana, shield still aloft, lowered it casually. "Nice work," she remarked.

It was all Ares' doing, she thought.

"It's not over," Peter interjected calmly.

Objects around Ares' fallen form began to levitate abruptly.

Simultaneously, Ares ascended into the air, engulfed in flames, not from heat vision but in a transformation akin to a boss entering a second phase.

The flames dissipated, revealing Ares clad in iron armor. From his horned helmet protruded a Spartan mask, the true visage of the God of War from ancient battles.

Without words, Ares charged straight for Peter.

He had felt Black Superman's heat vision firsthand and acknowledged it as a potent adversary, forcing him into his true form.

But that was all.

Formidable energy beams often came at the cost of vulnerability.

Since Black Superman's advent, Ares had no attack other than heat vision, affirming his belief that his foe was a mere sorcerer.

As God of War, he had resolved millennia of conflicts through strategy or field control, yet he remained a warrior at heart.

Close combat, he knew, would swiftly defeat Black Superman.

Yet, had he contemplated the might of Black Superman's close-quarters prowess?

Combat strategy dictated finding weaknesses and exploiting them. If his opponent proved superior in all aspects, why engage at all?

Diana recognized the predicament. Her combat acumen was peerless.

Their current plight was evident.

Armed though she was, her role was to leverage her assets to enable offensive strikes.

"I'll hold him off! Seize your opportunity to strike!" she directed.

"..."

Ares was more tense confronting Black Superman, but facing his less experienced sister lacking full divine prowess, he felt no pressure.

In an instant, two longswords manifested in his grip, launched straight at Diana.

She raised her shield but the impact nearly knocked her off balance.

Ares advanced swiftly, a battle-axe materializing in his grasp. In a single blow, he shattered Diana's shield, forcing her to abandon it to evade.

Ares, a figure of strength and speed, relentlessly pursued Diana. In mere moments, she found herself in dire peril.

She had seen Black Superman dispatch Ares with ease, yet now, in his presence, she acutely sensed the god's oppressive might.

Even as Ares assailed her, he remained vigilant against Peter, wary of another sudden heat vision attack.

This vigilance, however, provided Diana an opening. Seizing the moment, she thrust the God-Killing Sword gifted by her mother towards Ares.

The blade's name implied prowess against gods. Yet what unfolded shocked her.

Ares seized the God-Killing Sword bare-handed, heat from his grip melting it to molten slag.

Diana watched in disbelief, questioning the artifact guarded by Paradise Island for ages. The irony of their vigil now seemed misplaced.

Ares seized on her distraction, flinging her aside, toppling nearby buildings.

Blood at her lip, Diana regained her bearings swiftly.

Gazing up, she beheld Ares charging Black Superman.

"No! Stop!" she cried out.

But Ares had closed the distance, swinging his battle-axe. Diana's heart raced, feeling powerless.

To Ares, the outcome seemed sealed. He intended to sever Black Superman's head, pluck out his eyes—a trophy for his collection.

Even his bemusement at Black Superman's initial passivity failed to curb his momentum.

Then, a fist struck him.

Boom!

In that instant, Ares comprehended his misjudgment, his fallacy.

His opponent was no mere jack-of-all-trades but wielded fists harder than any laser.

Resentment stirred. Why flaunt such power? Why not strike promptly? Was this a game to him?

No time for such ruminations now.

Peter's fist shattered Ares' helmet, slamming into his face.

Ares, erstwhile indomitable, collapsed as though his vigor deserted him.

"He's done," Peter declared.

...

When Ares stirred, he found himself in a small, familiar chamber.

London had been his home for years; he recognized the hotel room instantly.

Irrelevant. The focus lay on Black Superman and Diana, their gazes inscrutable.

Recollection flooded back. He had been subdued, a god, by a mere punch—humiliated.

His cheek throbbed; swollen. A god, beaten and bruised, unable to heal swiftly.

Damn it, a god felled, incapacitated for a span—by what power?

He was—but no matter.

More pressing was his bondage.

He glanced down, eyes alighting on a radiant cord—the Lasso of Truth, creation of Hephaestus, deity of fire.

Diana wielded it now. Its binding—foreign, confounding, reminiscent of eastern artistry.

Bound, a god in a tortoise shell, subject to Diana's perplexed scrutiny.

Unfamiliar, undignified.

Ares seethed, casting a baleful glare at Diana and Peter.

"Insolent! Degrading a god of war thus!" His voice a growl.

Diana, witnessing his wrath, felt unease, perhaps regret.

She had seen Black Superman bind Ares, but underestimated his adeptness.

Despite his restraint, Ares' fury, potent and unyielding, swirled. Struggling, contorting, futile.

"Speak," Peter commanded, standing astride Ares.

Ares scoffed, murder in his gaze. "Ask."

Peter's riposte: "Do you wish more to be seen thus?"

Ares balked.

Peter gestured. "Diana, fetch a camera."

"Fxxk!" Ares' ire, vocal.

"Who are you? Such impudence!" He cried.

"I am Black Superman," Peter affirmed, gripping the lasso. "Cooperate now?"

Ares' visage twitched, rage palpable. Diana, witnessing, awed.

The God of War, lion-like in ire, chafed under Peter's boot, helpless, furious.

"Interrogate him," Peter bade Diana, surrendering Ares to her.

Diana queried: "What—"

"Kill Ares? A mere clone suffices," Peter said.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 132: Well Done, Diana

Diana's resolve to confront Ares had led to this juncture.

Yet now, confronted with the act itself, she faltered.

Doubts burgeoned within her.

"What do you know...about me?" she challenged, brandishing the broken God-Killing Sword at Ares' throat.

Ares chuckled, his tone mocking. "You don't know? Diana, from our first meeting, I sensed it—the divine essence within you, Zeus' essence."

"No..."

"Ask for truth, then shun it?" Ares jeered.

"Proof!" Diana demanded.

Ares sneered. "Isn't your divine power proof? Mortals lack divinity."

Silence enveloped Diana.

Her mother, Hippolyta, had instilled the belief she was clay-born, granted life by gods. Yet she sensed a power, burgeoning with time and battle.

Ares' words echoed hers.

Did she dare seek her mother's truth?

But Paradise Island's paths, once departed, never could be retraced.

Finally, she ended it.

With the God-Killing Sword, she silenced Ares.

Ares, resigned, gasped.

"Diana...regret this day," he uttered.

"Regret? You alone bear it," she retorted.

Ares expired, mocking eyes on Diana, life extinguished.

Clad still in her island-issued armor, Diana pondered.

Her mission, swift and surreal, seemed dreamlike, its significance elusive.

Peter spoke.

"Done already?" he queried.

Diana regained her senses, cradled her head in her hands, and gently slapped her face to rally herself, saying:

"Come on, Diana! You defeated Ares! You saved millions of people caught in war! Well, though most of it was done by Black Superman..." She glanced at Peter.

"Of course, I just... didn't expect it to end so soon."

"End? It's still early," Peter replied.

Diana was momentarily stunned. She had almost thought something was wrong with Ares until Peter continued:

"We should descend. Steve must be beside himself with worry."

"..." Diana rolled her eyes. After defeating Ares, she felt considerably more relaxed.

"Then let's go down!" she declared.

Steve Two had never been so anxious, not even when he was trapped behind enemy lines working as a spy.

The parliament building collapsed, and Sir Morgan, a noble advocate for peace, lay dead before him.

And now they'd reveal Sir Morgan wasn't just any man but the mythical god of war, Ares.

It all felt so fantastical.

Damn it, half a day ago he was in the German base camp plotting espionage!

But what stressed him most was having to explain it all to others!

Yes, as the rescue operation progressed, most upper-class celebrities were gradually being saved from the wreckage.

The exact casualties weren't tallied yet, but someone would be held accountable for these grave consequences.

"Are you saying Sir Morgan is Ares? The one who orchestrated the war and caused all this devastation?" asked his bandaged boss with a sneer in the temporarily commandeered office.

"Uh... yes, sir. You saw it too? Sir Morgan flew into the air and brought down the building," Steve cautiously replied, gauging his boss's reaction.

How could he know Ares's intentions? All he could do now was make excuses and hope for the best.

After all, Morgan... Ares's malevolence was clear to all.

His boss fell silent, troubled by Morgan's duplicity.

Steve relaxed a bit, seeing his boss grasp the gravity of the situation.

"Where is Sir Morgan now?" the boss suddenly inquired.

Steve's face tensed again.

By the time Peter and Diana descended, the hotel was surrounded by heavily armed soldiers, dozens of guns aimed squarely at them.

Diana had witnessed the destructive power of these human weapons on Paradise Island during her final trial: dodging or withstanding bullet barrages. She stood tall and demanded:

"Hey! What's going on here?"

But the cold voices remained, guns fixed, until Steve Two and his boss hurriedly stepped forward.

"Given the potential threat you pose, I must take precautions," the boss, embodying the characteristic toughness of an officer, stated as he approached them.

"Please cooperate with the investigation."

This stern demeanor put everyone on edge, and Diana frowned almost instantly.

Fortunately, Steve Two intervened in time to smooth things over, saying:

"Apologies, Black Superman, Diana. This is standard procedure given the circumstances."

One red-faced, the other pale, Diana glanced at the recent wreckage nearby, understanding Steve's point.

"I understand..."

Steve Two sighed with relief, then turned to Peter with a questioning look.

He knew Diana would comply easily. The real concern was this man who, on Paradise Island, destroyed the German fleet in silence and then threatened the Amazons.

Peter's concerns about Steve Two were evident, and he had little desire to antagonize ordinary people in this world, at least not yet.

"Have you forgotten, Steve? I'm filled with good intentions," Peter quipped.

Steve Two's mouth twitched.

Good intentions that ordinary folks could hardly fathom.

Seeing the two "subdued," their superior gained confidence and pressed on:

"Where's Sir Morgan? Captain Trevor mentioned he's in your custody."

"Indeed," Peter affirmed.

The boss's eyes lit up. With Sir Morgan still in custody, regardless of whether he was Ares or someone with extraordinary abilities, there would be an explanation for this catastrophe. Plus, having these two here...

"Where is he now?" the boss quickly interjected.

Diana, newly emboldened, hands on hips, bravely proclaimed:

"Dead. I killed him!"

Her statement hung in the air, causing both the boss and Steve Two to momentarily fall silent.

Diana was slightly taken aback by their reaction. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

"No, no problem at all. You did well, Diana," Peter reassured her, unconcerned with the boss's visibly twitching muscles.