Half-Blood Academy 3 Magic Fury an academy reverse harem fantasy romance - Meg Xuemei X Page 0,33
with a mental punch.
He felt it, captured it, and used my magic to pull me to him.
His power sucked me into the center of its magnetic storm and pinned me. I twirled, not to struggle free as he expected me to, but to latch myself onto his power source.
A dark surprise lit his eyes, and we locked together.
I was in his mind the next heartbeat, walking through his memories and feeling the pulse and impulse of his visions and desires.
The landscape before me shifted.
I was no longer with my demigods and the students in the combat class, but with Ares alone.
On ancient Earth, when the Olympians had first arrived on the alien planet, the God of War in his armor swiped his spear at his opponents. Wherever he prowled, bodies fell all around him. He cut them down like endless weeds.
His golden spear dripped red blood while it flashed silver light, piercing flesh and separating bones and tissues with brutal precision.
No one could stand in his path, yet the war god’s bloodlust wasn’t sated.
He threw his head back and laughed in wicked delight as men and women fell, crawled, screamed, and fled.
Even amid such horror and carnage, his glorious beauty didn’t lessen but magnified. He thrived in vicious battle and bloodbaths.
My stomach clenched and flipped. Nausea hit my center, yet a part of me felt the same thrill, wanting to join him and revel in battle glory.
He turned to me with a knowing smirk as he stretched a bloodstained hand toward me.
I accepted it.
I stood beside the God of War like his equal in my crimson armor.
I took in the carnage in front of me—tens of thousands of dead and the moaning, dying soldiers. Blood flowed on the dented ground and painted broken walls. At the end of the battlefield was a field of wheat. The plants were no longer golden but blood red, waving in a violent wind that sent the reek of blood and rotten meat miles away.
Black crows hovered in the sky, cawing, blotting the sun, then they swooped down on the corpses like the shadows of death.
“Let’s feast, Marigold,” he said. “You and I. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you.”
His deep, musical voice, so beautiful and enchanting in the bloody battlefield, echoed in my core, striking a chord, yet a part of me—the old, unchanged Marigold—registered how horrid and insane he and this whole scene were.
I staggered back.
I was not evil.
If I indeed had such bloodlust in me, I’d forever bury it in the forgotten bottom of the abyss to protect myself and the others. I’d chain that fucking bloodthirsty bitch-beast down and never let her surface.
To do so, I’d have to repress the hellfire and never let the demon part of my heritage see the light. Then an understanding sank into my consciousness—Ares was no different than Lucifer.
And my godly part was equally bloodthirsty as my demon part.
My eyes returned to the war god, who waded through the blood that flowed like a river. Brilliant sunlight glinted off his metal armor and made the blood glisten.
My gaze pierced his essence.
He knew no good or evil. War was all he cared for.
From the ancient time when the first universe was formed, and since he’d been born, he’d been at war.
He’d destroyed countless worlds from other universes before he came to Earth.
Unlike the demigods, who were faithful to their mission and carried the burden of protecting Earth, the war god didn’t care for humanity or any living being.
His nature was to destroy. In destruction, he found glory.
This time when he returned to Earth, he posed as a superhero, the savior of the earthlings, the protector and ruler of his half of Earth, basking in the mortals’ worship. Yet unknown to all, he was the cause of the Great Merge. He’d helped Lucifer break the seal and bring Hell to the other half of the planet so he could go to war with the devil.
He’d hidden that deeply from the demigods. I needed to tell them about the dirty deal between the god and the devil.
Ares’s fiery eyes snapped to me, and a force slammed into my chest, tossing me out of his head, his memories, and his vision.
“Cookie.”
“Lamb.”
“Rosebud.”
“Buttercup.”
The demigods shouted my name as I swayed, two trails of blood flowing out of my nose, but my wobbly orb of crimson light still held above my friends and the other students.