Dust rose from the trench Simon had broken through. Two motionless demons lay among the collapsed supports, their armour crushed beneath the force of his landing. Farther back, a trail of scattered stone marked his flight from the rift.
The God of War stood before the red opening with his remaining hand lowered. Darius's hair stirred in the demonic wind spilling from the passage, but the being wearing his face seemed untouched by the chaos around him.
A human lowered his rifle.
He had recognised the black bands across the face, the crimson lines, and the crossed spears beneath the ruined armour. When those iron-grey eyes turned briefly across the field, his knees struck the ground.
"Lord of Battles..."
Others followed.
Some bowed immediately. Others hesitated until the men beside them dragged them down. Across the nearest trenches, weapons lowered, and prayers replaced battle cries.
The demons reacted differently.
