Ares' dead eyes, lifeless and dark as the abyss, locked onto both Asher and Ezekiel with a menacing glare. They were like magnets of death, pulling everything into an inescapable void of destruction.
"How dare you, Ezekiel?" Ares growled, his voice a chilling echo in the ruined chamber. "You think the power of the Red Oak Tree guarantees your safety? I will crush you, and after tonight, death will be merciful to you. But unfortunately, I won't grant you that mercy."
Asher shuddered, standing just behind Ezekiel, feeling the darkness creeping around them, thick and suffocating. Ares was channeling something far beyond ordinary magic—this was pure, unrestrained malice. The darkness crackled with an ancient force, revealing the precise mastery and years of experience Ares had wielding his malevolent power.
Realizing that fighting such a being was a death wish, Asher cautiously moved closer to Zeke, ignoring the piles of corpses that littered the floor. He whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
"I think we should run. Maybe if we're fast enough, we can escape this madman. Look at him, Zeke—can't you feel that deadly aura? That's no ordinary vampire. He's something beyond immortality itself. So please, for the love of sanity, listen to me."
Asher's soft, alluring voice carried in slow, deliberate tones, but Ezekiel, despite the grin tugging at his lips, never took his eyes off Ares.
Ares stood amidst his fallen minions, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he spread his legs, bracing himself. His bottomless, abyss-like eyes locked onto Zeke.
"Tonight, I will end both of you," Ares declared, his voice void of emotion. "Since I have acquired the divine being, you are no longer of use to me, Ezekiel. Time to see what I am truly made of."
Without warning, Ares' body convulsed, his neck cracking at an unnatural angle. The grotesque transformation began.
Asher's mouth fell open as he watched the monstrous change unfold before them. Ezekiel blinked, clearly not expecting such an evolution from the Vampire Lord.
"Now would be the perfect time to run," Asher muttered in horror, shifting his weight in preparation to flee.
But before either of them could act, a bone-chilling growl tore through the air. The sound was so deafening that a powerful gust of wind blasted them backward. They were thrown against the walls of the cell, shattering the stone upon impact, sending tremors of pain down their spines.
Ezekiel barely had a moment to react before a clawed hand gripped his throat and slammed him back into the ruined cell wall. Pain exploded through his back, causing him to wince. Before he could recover, Ares unleashed a flurry of brutal punches, each blow shattering bones and breaking flesh. Ezekiel's jaw cracked, blood gushing from his lips.
Asher groaned, struggling to rise from the debris. His vision blurred, but as he turned his head, his heart nearly stopped.
Ezekiel was battling for his life. Ares—now a monstrous hybrid of man and beast—delivered blow after merciless blow, his bestial growl reverberating through the chamber, making Asher's skin crawl with fright.
How was he supposed to help?
"You monster, Ares!" Asher screamed, his voice breaking. "Why won't you just leave us alone? Haven't we suffered enough? Don't you have a family, a purpose beyond this madness? Why do you take pleasure in making our lives miserable?"
Ares only growled louder, his fury intensifying. He suddenly lunged at Asher with maddening speed, but before he could strike, Ezekiel conjured a red beam of energy that shot forth with terrifying velocity. The force of the blast sent Ares hurtling through the air, crashing against the stone floor. The impact created deep cracks, but even then, Ares wasn't done.
As he stood, his eyes smoldering with black smoke, the ground trembled. Then, from the depths of the shadows, five monstrous creatures—each as massive as towering buildings—materialized.
Ezekiel, panting and exhausted, stared at the abominations. His stomach twisted.
He had made a grave mistake.
Maybe he shouldn't have attacked the vampires. Maybe killing the witches had been the wrong move. Because now, he and Asher were staring at their own doom.
Limping forward, Zeke surveyed the wreckage. The cell was completely destroyed beyond repair, and out of the shadows, giant scorpions emerged—hideous, grotesque creatures with razor-sharp pincers. They scuttled toward him at an alarming speed.
But Ezekiel refused to cower.
With his last reserves of strength, he raised his hand. A powerful red beam enveloped the creatures, his magic infiltrating their core energy systems. His mind took control, bending them to his will.
The painful screeches of the creatures filled the air, but to Zeke, it was music. They fell to their knees before him, weakened, subdued by his dark magic.
Meanwhile, Asher was locked in a struggle with one of the scorpions that had escaped Zeke's spell. The pincer sliced toward him, nearly severing his arm. He dodged, barely escaping with his life. But then, his eyes widened in horror.
Ezekiel was winning—he was bringing the creatures to their knees.
But Ares had other plans.
In a blink, Ares materialized behind Zeke. Before he could react, the sharp edge of a dagger plunged into his jaw. The blade tore through flesh and bone, emerging from the top of his skull.
Zeke went limp.
Asher's world crumbled.
His body went rigid, his breath stolen from his lungs. He watched as a river of blood flowed from Zeke's lifeless form, pooling around them in grotesque waves.
Ezekiel couldn't be dead.
He couldn't be.
Before Asher could process the nightmare unfolding before him, Ares unleashed his final spell.
A massive inferno of darkness, a ball of raw malevolence, formed in the air. It hurtled toward Asher with deadly force.
But just before it struck, something miraculous happened.
A radiant light barrier formed, intercepting the attack. The darkness was sucked into the barrier, dissolving into nothingness.
Then, Asher's body went still. His eyes turned pure white.
A wave of divine light erupted from him, flooding the ruined cell. Every corpse, every remnant of darkness, was incinerated in its brilliance.
Ares' eyes widened in desperation. Asher must die.
But before Ares could make another move, Asher raised his palm. A beautiful crystal of light appeared, and as he twisted it in midair, threads of radiance began to weave together.
A fiery sword—massive and celestial—formed in his grasp.
With a single, devastating slash, the sword cleaved through Ares' defenses. His dark orbs shattered. The explosion rocked the entire chamber.
Ares fell, weakened, defeated.
Asher didn't hesitate. He drove the divine blade into Ares' face. The impact split his forehead apart, carving his skull into two.
Silence fell.
Then, a soft glow surrounded Ezekiel's broken body.
His wounds began to mend, his shattered skull reforming. But as consciousness returned, a voice echoed in his mind—a warning from the Red Oak Tree.
"One more death, Ezekiel, and it will be final. You will not return again."
Zeke gasped, his body shuddering as he rose to his feet.
His eyes met Asher's.
Without hesitation, he rushed forward and pulled Asher into his arms.
Then, in a breathless moment of raw emotion, Ezekiel crashed his lips against Asher's, seizing control of his soft, pink lips.