All Chapters of The Return Of the God Of War: Chapter 51
- Chapter 60
200 chapters
THE MAN THEY WAIT FOR
CHAPTER 53: THE MAN THEY WAIT FORMira leaned against the hallway wall, arms folded, her eyes still closed.She hadn’t meant to listen.But when Ares said “Promise” - so soft, so certain - something in her steadied. It wasn’t hope. It was closer to recognition. The man she once believed in... he hadn’t died on some foreign battlefield. He was here, in this hall, making promises to a child he’d nearly lost forever.And this time, he meant to keep them.Inside, Elijah had drifted back to sleep, curled beneath the patched blankets with his small hand resting on Ares’ knee. The boy’s breathing was deep and even. Ares hadn’t moved. He just sat there, spine straight, head lowered, like the weight of the moment held him still.Mira stepped in quietly.“You should sleep too,” she whispered.Ares didn’t look at her. “I will.”“You say that, but I haven’t seen you rest in days.”He turned his head slightly. “I can’t afford to. Not yet.”She moved closer, crouching beside him so they were level.
THE STORM THAT BUILT US
“I promise.”Ares said it quietly, as Elijah stirred faintly in his arms - eyes fluttering but not waking. The boy’s cheek rested against his father’s chest, and for a moment, Ares didn’t think about legacy, or structure, or the fractured city at his back.Just the warmth of his son’s breath.Just the weight of that promise.He looked out toward the distant skyline, jagged silhouettes under a bruised sky. Somewhere, fires still burned - controlled ones now. Cleanup teams. Volunteers. Survivors who refused to wait for someone else to fix what had been broken.Mira sat beside him, one hand resting gently on his knee. She hadn’t spoken since he whispered those words. But she didn’t need to. Her silence was a thread between them - a shared truth that stretched across too many years and too much pain.When Elijah shifted again, Ares lowered him carefully, wrapping the blanket tighter before rising to his feet. Mira followed, brushing dirt from her coat.“You heading inside?” she asked.Ares
THE WEIGHT OF PEACE
The Assembly Hall was quiet the next morning.Not silent - there were distant boots on tile, quiet murmurs of volunteers laying cables and pinning up maps - but the kind of quiet that came after storms. The kind you earned. Ares stood near the north-facing window, watching as the mist lifted off the shattered rooftops of Lin City.Behind him, Elijah tugged at his sleeve.“Is this where they argue?” he asked.Ares smirked. “Sometimes. Mostly, they try to listen.”Elijah nodded solemnly, like that was harder.The boy wore a scarf too big for him and boots slightly too worn. His hair still stuck up in wild tufts from sleep, and he held The Little Prince under one arm like it was a secret weapon. Ares rested a steady hand on his son’s back as they stepped inside.Some of the council members were already seated. Kara gave a quick wave. The woman from the South End was bouncing her baby with one hand and flipping through ration figures with the other. Hawk stood by the coffee dispenser, pou
THE PROMISE OF STAYING
The Assembly Hall was quiet the next morning.Not silent - there were distant boots on tile, quiet murmurs of volunteers laying cables and pinning up maps -but the kind of quiet that came after storms. The kind you earned. Ares stood near the north-facing window, watching as the mist lifted off the shattered rooftops of Lin City.Behind him, Elijah tugged at his sleeve.“Is this where they argue?” he asked.Ares smirked. “Sometimes. Mostly, they try to listen.”Elijah nodded solemnly, like that was harder.The boy wore a scarf too big for him and boots slightly too worn. His hair still stuck up in wild tufts from sleep, and he held The Little Prince under one arm like it was a secret weapon. Ares rested a steady hand on his son’s back as they stepped inside.Some of the council members were already seated. Kara gave a quick wave. The woman from the South End was bouncing her baby with one hand and flipping through ration figures with the other. Hawk stood by the coffee dispenser, pour
EMBERS AND ROOTS
Mira didn’t move for a long time.She sat cross-legged on the floor, her arms resting on her knees, eyes fixed on the sleeping boy and the man beside him. The only sound was the low hum of the generator outside and the steady breath of a child who finally, finally, had no reason to be afraid.Ares didn’t speak either. He leaned back against the wall, knees bent, one hand resting protectively near Elijah’s shoulder, the other slack on his thigh. Every now and then, his eyes flickered open - checking, listening - but the tension he used to wear like armor had softened into something else.Stillness.Not weakness. Not surrender.Just the absence of running.Mira eventually pushed herself up, bones stiff, and moved to sit beside Ares. He shifted slightly, making room, careful not to wake the boy.They didn’t touch - not yet. But their shoulders were close enough to share warmth.“You should sleep too,” she murmured.“I will,” Ares said. “Just... not yet.”She nodded.A long breath passed
THE WEIGHT OF STILLNESS
Ares didn’t move.He sat by Elijah’s bedside long after the boy had turned back into sleep, his small hands tucked beneath his cheek, his breaths soft and untroubled. The notebook lay closed beside them - those sketches still etched into Ares’ mind.That last drawing... the three of them standing beneath a sun not yet drawn. No smoke. No sirens. No shadows clawing at the edge of their peace. Just presence.Ares leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, his head buried in his hands. His back ached from old wounds. His fingers were calloused from war. But none of that compared to the pressure behind his ribs now - the unfamiliar weight of not having to fight.Outside, the windowpane rattled gently in the breeze. There was no storm tonight. No cries. No coded transmissions. Just wind brushing across the roof and the distant clatter of tools as the early workers began their shifts.Mira’s door was still ajar across the hall, warm light spilling through the gap. He could have gone to her
THOSE WHO REMEMBER
Because now, they had something worth defending.And for Ares Kai - the man who once lived only to destroy - that made him more dangerous than ever.The rooftop wind brushed over him, sharp with the chill of dusk but filled with the scent of food cooking in shared courtyards and the murmur of distant laughter. It was the kind of night that made a man forget, if only for a moment, how much blood had stained his past.But forgetting wasn’t an option.Mira stood at his side in silence. Her hand had long since slipped from his, but her presence hadn’t. She leaned against the railing, watching the city breathe. Her eyes were calm, but her voice, when it came, held a quiet weight.“Do you think they’ll come here? The ones watching?”He didn’t answer right away.Then, “Not yet. But they’ve taken notice.”She tilted her head. “Of you?”“No,” he said. “Of us.”Mira glanced back at the glowing blocks of Lin City - at the rebuilt shelters, the lights flickering in the old Assembly Hall, the hum
ASH IN THE VEINS
The steel slab still stood at the western ridgeline when Ares returned at midday. The sun was higher now, carving the message deeper into the scorched metal with every flicker of heat. He didn’t touch it. Didn’t have to. The words were burned behind his eyes.We are not your past. We are your consequence.He stood there a moment longer, wind tugging at the collar of his coat, the dry scent of dust and burnt wire rising from the earth. Reyes approached from behind, silent, until the crunch of his boots gave him away.“They’re not just warning us,” he said. “They’re staging something. Making a show of memory.”Ares nodded slowly. “And calling it justice.”Reyes looked out toward the hills. “You think it’s just Vale?”“No.” Ares didn’t blink. “I think it’s what Vale left behind. A creed. A code. A wound still bleeding after all this time.”Reyes crossed his arms. “I’ve buried too many men to be haunted by ghosts.”Ares looked at him. “Then start digging again. Because this war... it didn
FIRE TO FAITH
“…You’re not fighting soldiers. You’re fighting believers.”Reyes didn’t flinch, but his silence said more than any words. Ares leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees, elbows on his thighs. The weight of Lina’s words wasn’t just tactical - it was personal. Intimately familiar.He'd once led like that - when loss made belief the only armor left.Lina sat rigid, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the metal bench. “They don’t fear death,” she said quietly. “Not because they’re brave. Because they’ve already buried the parts of themselves that could feel it.”Ares stared at her, expression unreadable. “Did you?”“I tried,” she whispered. “But I kept waking up.”For a moment, Mira’s hand found Ares’s under the table. A quiet touch. Not comfort. Contact. Connection.Ares stood, his shadow tall under the low infirmary lights. “If Magnus still believes in me,” he said, “then maybe he’s not too far gone.”Lina shook her head slowly. “Don’t mistake obsession for faith. He do
THE MARCH OF BELIEF
The ash wasn’t thick. Not yet.But Ares knew that scent - how it clung to the air just before a field was scorched, how it tasted like a memory you couldn’t wash out of your mouth. Lin City had known that taste before. It remembered.And now, the wind carried it again.He stood at the northern watchtower as the sun lifted past the horizon, a dull orange behind layers of smoke-streaked clouds. The wind was steady. The sound beneath it wasn’t thunder, not yet, but a pattern - measured, deliberate, human.Marching.He didn’t speak. Just watched.Mira joined him without a word, a steaming cup of water in her hand, her other clutching a rough shawl around her shoulders. She stood beside him, not asking what he saw. She already knew.“How many?” she asked quietly.“Hard to say.” He paused. “But it’s not a raid. It’s a procession.”Mira frowned. “A parade?”“No,” Ares said, voice low. “A ritual.”She followed his gaze, the direction of the wind. “Magnus?”He nodded. “It’s him.”Mira looked d