Chapter 6: How Annoying.
"What a lunatic. I've finally gotten away from him," Ares exclaimed with a breath of relief as he collapsed onto a sofa in the living room, appreciating the wonderful feeling of being alone in peace and quiet, his Disguise currently undone.
After a few hours of running and getting caught, only to run and get caught again repeatedly, Solomon had managed to get the details of his 5 techniques out of him — though not in deep detail, of course.
It was now evening. Solomon had stepped out in the morning around 7 AM to pull some strings and secure him a spot as a participant in the academy's entrance exams, which was why Ares was currently enjoying his solitude and not being annoyed to death.
He stretched his body out on the sofa until he heard a few *pop* sounds from his joints, then sat upright.
He had to figure out a way to find the remaining piece of the grimoire. Solomon had only told him it was somewhere in the academy, and for all he knew, that "somewhere" could be anywhere — underground, in a sealed vault, HELL, IT COULD BE IN THE DAMN HEADMASTER'S OFFICE BEING USED AS A FREAKING COFFEE RUG.
Then he remembered what Solomon had told him before leaving.
---
**[Flashback]**
"At your current ancient energy output, you're on equal footing with some of the most talented students joining the entrance exams. In other words, you have to knock out the competition — completely wow the higher-ups in the academy. Make sure to secure that King position," Solomon said, rolling up his fist and raising it high in the air like he was delivering a life-changing pep talk, his signature goofy grin in full effect.
"King position?" Ares said questioningly.
"Basically the top dog of each year. Only the strongest students hold that position — if it's a female, she's designated Queen instead. They're also the leaders of their class years and carry the most expectations from everyone in their year and the academy as a whole," Solomon said, arms folded behind his head, leaning back against a chair.
Ares looked at him with a raised eyebrow, mildly confused. "With my goal in mind, wouldn't drawing that much attention to myself be a bad idea?"
"Technically, yes…" Solomon said in a squeaky tone before continuing, "but in your situation, you need that spotlight on you as bright as possible — because whoever holds the King position gets access to even restricted areas within the academy."
"Which means if I want to search for the remaining piece of my grimoire…I'll need to be at the top," Ares said with a look of understanding.
"Exactly," Solomon affirmed with a smile.
**[Flashback End]**
---
*Well…hopefully the fight these kids put up will be worth it,* Ares thought, a wide predatory grin spreading across his face, tearing slightly at the edges of his mouth, his eyes glowing blood red for a few moments.
He imagined how the tournament would go — how strong the entrants would be, whether they'd be able to put up an entertaining match against him at his current strength. He genuinely wanted to see how far the so-called strongest kids and prodigies of this era had come. If someone as strong as Solomon existed, maybe there were more on the way…he wanted to see just how strong.
"HEHEHE — AHAHAHAHA!!!!!"
He laughed madly and maniacally, his oppressive pressure surging alongside the laughter and rattling the entire room — window glass and furniture cracking and falling apart, noticeable cracks splitting across sections of the walls and floor.
"Oops…got carried away just now," Ares said, reeling himself back in, his eyes reverting to their normal red, then using his ancient energy to heal the edges of his mouth.
*CREAK.*
At the sound of a door opening, Ares turned toward it — eyes landing on Solomon stepping in with two white nylon bags and his signature clownish grin.
"What's up, my man!" Solomon greeted in a loud, cheery voice after closing the door, then made his way over to the sofa Ares was sitting on.
He decided not to ask about the cracks or why the building was shaking just a moment ago, frankly speaking he found the old man Ares to be kinda…wierd.
With a scowl and an abrasive look, Ares shot back, "Your man?…What are you, gay?"
"…"
For the first time in a long while, Solomon had absolutely nothing to say to that. So he simply pretended not to hear it and changed the subject.
"Sooo…it's done. You'll be participating in the academy exams," he said as he reached into the nylon bags and pulled out 4 containers of food, proceeding to open them and lay them out on the table in front of them.
Spread across the table was boiled rice, along with meat, sauces, and salad.
"Dig in before it gets cold," Solomon said, grabbing a spoon and eating.
Ares, eyes still on the food and utensils in front of him, asked, "What about a name?"
*COUGH. COUGH.*
Solomon coughed abruptly, caught himself, then replied with a wide, nervous grin —
"Uhm…the ID cards with names and all will be given to you on the day of the exam before entry, so don't worry," he said, failing to hold eye contact with Ares, looking everywhere else — whether out of guilt or something else entirely.
"What name did you register me as?" Ares asked again, eyes narrowed, easily able to tell something mischievous was afoot.
"Uhm…hehe…some things are better experienced in the moment," Solomon said.
"Why can't you just tell me the name now?" Ares pressed, now more convinced he wasn't going to like where this was heading.
*Suspicious,* he thought internally.
"Lighten up, old man. You'll see it when the time comes," Solomon replied, turning back to his food, visible nervous sweat on his forehead.
Ares dropped the interrogation — it was clearly going nowhere — and shifted his attention to the food on the table, picking up a spoon and eating slowly.
Though he'd already made up his mind to be prepared for whatever nonsense Solomon had pulled during registration.
"How annoying…" he mumbled under his breath.
"Did ya say something?" Solomon asked, catching the mumbled words but not quite making them out.
"No…just eat," Ares replied flatly.
"Okay," Solomon said — not giving it a second thought — and went right back to scarfing down his food.