Athena was insulted. Ares’ words seemed to drive her into discord. She clasped her armrest tight with a blushing face and said, “You’ve got a lot of sophistry, Ares.”
Zeus looked down at his son with a look full of discontent. Ares’ expression was cold. Though Zeus didn’t know what his son and daughter were thinking—though he had no interest—he felt like splitting Ares’ head apart as Athena had done when she was born.
He did hope that his own son would utter the words “Father, I was wrong.” out of his mouth, but Zeus recalled that it would be asking for too much. Ares was one of the twelve gods and unfortunately, Ares was right. Perhaps because this has occurred more than once, Ares, the craziest and most fiery god was often released from the general matter.
But it was a pity that the minor gods were affected by his war.
“Ares, accused by the gods, including Alpheus, is innocent and Zeus reveals!” a roaring voice grew boisterous.
Zeus raised his hand and signaled the Olympians to keep quiet.
“However, everyone must be keen to remember clearly that the authority to engage in the mortal being’s war is imposed only on Ares, the god of war and the twelve gods. Again, any city like Troy can fall to the ground like a bunch of dogs due to their own foolishness and if I find anyone interfering, I’ll cut off the tendons of their legs and throw them to Tartarus’ hole. The same goes for Ares who continues to cause havoc one after another without reasonable causes. I swear this to Styx.”
Zeus concluded the meeting with a cold remark.
He rose from his chair and gave a furtive glance at Ares who stood in the middle like an emotionless doll. When Ares’ gray eyes met his, Zeus turned his head back, frowning as if something unclean had touched him.
Ares, he was a sc*mbag.
Even Hera quietly turned away from him. She gave birth to him, but she held not even the slightest affection. Even Hephaestus, who was shunned for his appearance, was given a slightly better treatment than him.
But Ares? All his being, all that he was caused the gods to turn away from him.
A destitute son…
A bloody warmonger…
An unfriendly and excessively stiff god…
Even though he was as handsome as Apollo in appearance, the goddesses were reluctant to be seen with him and Aphrodite, his only lover, had a difficult time supporting his affairs in public.
‘Why was he born like that?’
It was the question Hera and Zeus, the one who birthed him, wondered about from time to time. Ares’ brothers and sisters, too, asked the same questions.
Hades came to Ares who exuded gallant energy.
“Master,” Ares nodded to him.
“You behaved well. I thought you’d be thrown to the pits of Tartarus this time, so I watched you well in excitement. A shame you were acquitted of your crimes.”
“I think Poseidon’s preparing to open the bronze door and let me in,” Ares murmured to Hades, a black-haired middle-aged man with a clean-cut beard.
“Yes, that’s too bad. With Zeus’ ruling, for the time being, you’ll be under watch and scrutiny. Ah, shall we have a drink? It’s been a while.”
Hades wrapped his arm around Ares’ back and led him out of the hall.
“First of all, I’ll need to wash up. I’m dirty. Though you wouldn’t care. You’re the only one who doesn’t care about what I do,” Ares said, rubbing the blood on his chin with the back of his hand.
Hades had been immune since he had seen all sorts of skeletons in the Underworld. Even if maggots were twisted, Ares, known for his beautiful appearance in Olympus was a sight worth seeing—better than those in the Underworld.
The two gods left Olympus in Ares’ chariot.
Athena was insulted. Ares’ words seemed to drive her into discord. She clasped her armrest tight with a blushing face and said, “You’ve got a lot of sophistry, Ares.”
Zeus looked down at his son with a look full of discontent. Ares’ expression was cold. Though Zeus didn’t know what his son and daughter were thinking—though he had no interest—he felt like splitting Ares’ head apart as Athena had done when she was born.
He did hope that his own son would utter the words “Father, I was wrong.” out of his mouth, but Zeus recalled that it would be asking for too much. Ares was one of the twelve gods and unfortunately, Ares was right. Perhaps because this has occurred more than once, Ares, the craziest and most fiery god was often released from the general matter.
But it was a pity that the minor gods were affected by his war.
“Ares, accused by the gods, including Alpheus, is innocent and Zeus reveals!” a roaring voice grew boisterous.
Zeus raised his hand and signaled the Olympians to keep quiet.
“However, everyone must be keen to remember clearly that the authority to engage in the mortal being’s war is imposed only on Ares, the god of war and the twelve gods. Again, any city like Troy can fall to the ground like a bunch of dogs due to their own foolishness and if I find anyone interfering, I’ll cut off the tendons of their legs and throw them to Tartarus’ hole. The same goes for Ares who continues to cause havoc one after another without reasonable causes. I swear this to Styx.”
Zeus concluded the meeting with a cold remark.
He rose from his chair and gave a furtive glance at Ares who stood in the middle like an emotionless doll. When Ares’ gray eyes met his, Zeus turned his head back, frowning as if something unclean had touched him.
Ares, he was a sc*mbag.
Even Hera quietly turned away from him. She gave birth to him, but she held not even the slightest affection. Even Hephaestus, who was shunned for his appearance, was given a slightly better treatment than him.
But Ares? All his being, all that he was caused the gods to turn away from him.
A destitute son…
A bloody warmonger…
An unfriendly and excessively stiff god…
Even though he was as handsome as Apollo in appearance, the goddesses were reluctant to be seen with him and Aphrodite, his only lover, had a difficult time supporting his affairs in public.
‘Why was he born like that?’
It was the question Hera and Zeus, the one who birthed him, wondered about from time to time. Ares’ brothers and sisters, too, asked the same questions.
Hades came to Ares who exuded gallant energy.
“Master,” Ares nodded to him.
“You behaved well. I thought you’d be thrown to the pits of Tartarus this time, so I watched you well in excitement. A shame you were acquitted of your crimes.”
“I think Poseidon’s preparing to open the bronze door and let me in,” Ares murmured to Hades, a black-haired middle-aged man with a clean-cut beard.
“Yes, that’s too bad. With Zeus’ ruling, for the time being, you’ll be under watch and scrutiny. Ah, shall we have a drink? It’s been a while.”
Hades wrapped his arm around Ares’ back and led him out of the hall.
“First of all, I’ll need to wash up. I’m dirty. Though you wouldn’t care. You’re the only one who doesn’t care about what I do,” Ares said, rubbing the blood on his chin with the back of his hand.
Hades had been immune since he had seen all sorts of skeletons in the Underworld. Even if maggots were twisted, Ares, known for his beautiful appearance in Olympus was a sight worth seeing—better than those in the Underworld.
The two gods left Olympus in Ares’ chariot.
