The entire hall stood frozen after hearing Raezel's wish.
The mighty God of War, Ares—son of Zeus, the relentless warrior, the unshakable force of Olympus—was now kneeling.
His body trembled. His fingers clenched against the cold stone floor.
He was not simply afraid.
No.
He had just foreseen his own death.
All it took was one smirk from Medusa.
And in that moment, Ares knew—deep in his godly bones—that if she truly engaged in battle, there would be no war.
Only annihilation.
Raezel watched his mother with admiration, his golden eyes burning with something that was not fear, but pride.
Nythren, however?
He grinned. A full, wolfish, predatory grin.
"Now, this is interesting," he said, crossing his arms. His abyssal gaze flickered down to Ares, watching the god crumble further into his own despair. "You really are pathetic, aren't you?"
Ares didn't respond. He was too busy reliving the nightmares of every war he had ever fought—realizing how insignificant they were compared to the wrath Medusa could unleash.
But Raezel, still watching his mother, spoke again.
"I wish to see you fight, Mother."
Ares gasped. His hands gripped the floor tighter.
Nythren's grin widened. "I second that. I mean, wouldn't it be fun, Theía?"
Medusa tilted her head, her gaze shifting between the two of them. She wasn't offended.
No.
She was considering it.
Ares saw it.
And it broke him.
His head snapped up, his wild eyes locking onto Raezel and Nythren.
"YOU TWO MANIACS! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'RE ASKING FOR?!"
Raezel turned to him, unbothered. "Yes."
"NO, YOU DON'T!" Ares staggered to his feet, nearly losing his balance. He pointed at Medusa, his hand shaking violently. "DO YOU THINK SHE NEEDS A WAR TO DESTROY A KINGDOM? A COUNTRY? A CONTINENT?! DO YOU EVEN KNOW—"
Ares suddenly stopped.
His entire body locked up.
Because Medusa… was staring at him.
Her sharp, knowing gaze cut through his soul like a blade dipped in poison.
Ares' throat closed.
His breathing grew shallow.
And then—she smiled.
A simple, soft, almost mocking smile.
Ares felt something inside him snap.
His heart pounded in his chest, his mind spiraling into pure, unfiltered panic.
"F-Fine," he stammered, backing away. "You win. I-I won't say another word."
Nythren raised an eyebrow. "That was quick."
Ares didn't care.
He just wanted to leave this place alive.
Raezel, still standing beside his mother, smirked slightly before looking back at her. "So, will you fight, Mother?"
Medusa didn't answer immediately. Instead, she lifted a hand, lightly tracing her fingers along the stone pillar.
Then, finally, she spoke.
"Why do you wish for such destruction, my son?"
Her voice was gentle. Almost too gentle.
Raezel's smirk faded slightly. He lowered his gaze in thought.
"I do not wish for destruction," he said. "I simply want the world to remember that you are not just a tale whispered in fear."
Medusa studied him for a long moment. Then, she turned to Nythren.
"And you?"
Nythren chuckled. "Oh, I just want to see Ares wet himself."
Ares' face drained of all color.
Medusa hummed. "I see."
Ares instinctively flinched.
The King of Velmor, who had remained terrified and silent throughout this entire conversation, suddenly felt his entire body grow cold.
Because at that moment, he realized—she was actually considering it.
And if Medusa truly entered the battlefield…
It would not be a war.
It would be a massacre.
Ares swallowed hard, his mind racing for a way to stop this madness.
No god, no mortal, no fool in history had ever dared to willingly push Medusa into battle.
And yet, here were two absolute lunatics—Raezel and Nythren—cheerfully encouraging it.
Ares, desperate, turned to the King of Velmor.
"Say something, you idiot!" he hissed. "This is your kingdom! Do you have a death wish?!"
The king—poor, unfortunate fool that he was—had completely shut down.
His soul had already left his body.
His brain refused to function.
What could he possibly say?!
One moment, he was dealing with a god who wanted to kill him. The next, he had Medusa, her terrifying son, and the Prince of Darkness standing in his throne room.
And now?
Now, they were casually discussing whether or not to unleash a literal nightmare onto the world.
What was he supposed to do?! Object?!
He looked at Ares, eyes wide with fear, before shaking his head slightly. He had no words. No thoughts. No hope.
Ares felt despair creeping in.
This was it.
This was how he died.
Not in battle.
Not at the hands of some mighty hero.
But because two lunatics with no sense of self-preservation had decided it would be funny to test Medusa's patience.
He took a deep breath. There was only one thing left to do.
He turned to Medusa.
Dropped to both knees.
Pressed his forehead to the cold stone floor.
And in a voice filled with pure, unfiltered terror, he whispered:
"Please… don't."
The entire room fell silent.
Nythren blinked. "Wow."
Raezel sighed. "Ares, you're being dramatic."
Ares snapped his head up.
"DRAMATIC?!" he roared. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE CAN DO?! WHAT SHE WILL DO?!"
Raezel raised an eyebrow. "We do. And?"
Ares' eyes twitched.
His hands shook.
"You little—"
Medusa suddenly chuckled.
Ares froze.
The air itself grew heavier.
Everyone turned to her, watching as she stepped forward, her gaze flicking between her son and the terrified God of War.
Then, she sighed.
"Very well," she said softly. "I will not fight."
Ares collapsed.
Literally.
His body just gave up and he sank onto the floor, exhausted from sheer panic.
Nythren groaned. "No fun."
Medusa hummed. "You should know better than to tempt me, my son."
Raezel chuckled. "I was curious."
Medusa gave him a knowing look. "And yet, you already have your answer."
Raezel's smile faltered.
Ares was still recovering.
Nythren was pouting.
The King of Velmor?
He had seen enough.
He took a deep breath.
And then—he knelt before Medusa.
"My Queen."
Ares nearly choked.
Nythren laughed.
Raezel just smiled.
And Medusa?
She simply raised an eyebrow.
She then turned to her son.
And in a voice that shook the heavens, she declared:
"From this day forward, Velmor shall be under my protection. Let those who dare challenge it suffer the consequences."