Ares still wore his gray robe, relaxed and leaning on the sofa.
In George's mind, a War God should be either lofty or extraordinary, but this old man just felt like a normal old man.
Ares glanced at him and said calmly, "Kid, no need to be so formal. Just call me Ares."
"Okay, Mr. Ares. What's up?" George didn't dare to call him by his name directly.
This old man might look normal, but he was clearly a War God.
Ares didn't care. He said, "You know about the Bloodmist. I want you to draw out the monsters inside it."
George wasn't surprised. "What kind of monster is in the Bloodmist?"
"Something like a tree spirit. I haven't gone in to check. My men said they saw Bloodvines attacking. The exact type isn't recorded." Ares didn't hide the truth.
Bloodvines? Not even the Sovereign City had any record of them. That meant it was a new kind of monster.
