The next day,
Sameer and Steve managed to get inside the party.
One might wonder how they entered a German military celebration without an invitation, but the answer was simple—acting.
Sameer played his part perfectly.
Steve walked toward the entrance dressed like a high-ranking officer, his posture stiff and confident, the way officers carried themselves. Sameer followed a step behind him, acting like his nervous servant.
At the gate the guards immediately stopped them.
"Invitations."
Steve gave Sameer a sharp look as if expecting him to handle it.
Sameer instantly began apologizing to the guards in hurried German, explaining that his master had received an invitation but the foolish servant—meaning himself—had misplaced it somewhere along the road.
He bowed repeatedly while begging them not to ruin his master's evening.
The guards exchanged glances, clearly irritated.
Sameer continued the performance, acting panicked and desperate, almost on the verge of tears while apologizing for his "stupidity."
Steve remained silent the entire time, maintaining the cold expression of a high command officer who had no patience for such nonsense.
Finally, the guards stepped aside.
Sameer straightened, instantly dropping the frightened servant act the moment they passed the gate.
"See?" he murmured under his breath.
"Acting."
Diana moved carefully through the woods near the castle entrance, keeping herself hidden behind the trees while watching the guests arriving for the party.
Carriages rolled up the road while officers in decorated uniforms escorted elegantly dressed women toward the estate.
Her gaze settled on one woman walking toward the gate in a long evening dress.
Her plan was simple.
Take the woman's dress, enter the party, find Ares—and kill him with the Godkiller sword.
"You know that idea is the level of a child. That won't work."
Diana turned immediately.
Daniel had appeared beside her, watching the arriving guests with mild amusement.
"It will work," Diana said without hesitation.
Daniel glanced at the sword in her hand and then at the woman approaching the entrance.
"Then how will you hide that sword?" he asked. "That woman's dress has no place to hide something like that."
He rubbed his forehead slightly.
He still remembered the scene from the movie where Diana entered the party with the sword strapped on her back, everyone clearly staring at it while she somehow believed it was concealed.
"Since you're determined to kill Ares, I might as well help. Mostly because, well… one way or another you will enter anyway, so why bother letting you go in alone. You might as well have another god helping hand," said Daniel.
Diana smiled at that.
Daniel snapped his fingers.
In the next moment, both of them appeared inside the castle on the first floor balcony, looking down at the party below. Officers in decorated uniforms moved through the hall while music played softly and servants carried trays of wine between the guests.
Diana leaned slightly over the railing, her eyes scanning the crowd.
"Who among them is Ares?" she asked.
"No one," Daniel replied.
Diana turned to him in surprise. She had been certain Ludendorff—the German general leading the war—was Ares.
"But… Germany started this war," she said. "Then how can Ares not be here?"
Daniel shrugged lightly.
"So what? Is there a rule saying the God of War must stand on the enemy's side?" he said. "A war is born between two nations. Ares, being the god of war, is far more… tricky than that."
He looked down at the hall again.
"Maybe he's on the Allies' side," Daniel continued calmly. "Just influencing the Germans from the shadows. That way neither side ever thinks about stopping the war."
"Then how can I stop the war?" Diana asked.
Daniel leaned on the balcony railing, looking down at the officers laughing below.
"Well, I have a plan to draw out Ares," he said calmly. "All you have to do is kill the puppet on this side. That will force the puppeteer to show his face."
He cracked his knuckles slightly.
"And honestly… I'm getting itchy to beat the hell out of some of these capitalist idiots. It's always been a small dream of mine."
The words sounded strange even to him. Once upon a time his own family had lived comfortably in that same class.
But looking at the hall below—men drinking wine and celebrating while millions died in trenches—the thought of smashing their pride felt extremely satisfying.
"But what are you going to do?" Diana asked.
"Nothing special," Daniel said. "Just a little trial of how much a human life actually weighs… and a lesson for a few pieces of trash."
He glanced at her.
"You just watch."
Then he snapped his fingers.
Instantly every light in the hall went out.
Gas lamps flickered and died one by one. The music stopped mid-note. Guests looked around in confusion as darkness swallowed the entire room.
"What happened to the electricity?" one officer muttered.
"Check the wiring!" another barked at the servants.
Then—
A single light appeared in the center of the ballroom.
Under that pale glow stood a lone figure.
Daniel.
A massive black scythe rested across his shoulder.
"Scum and trash," he said calmly, his voice echoing across the silent hall. "Welcome to my trial of life."
Confused murmurs spread through the crowd.
"Is this some kind of performance?" one noblewoman whispered.
"A magician?" another man scoffed.
Daniel tilted his head.
"Some of you might be wondering if this is entertainment for your party," he continued. "You are correct."
He smiled slightly.
"It's a surprise from me."
Several guards immediately rushed toward him.
"Seize him!" one officer shouted.
Before they could reach him—
Daniel snapped his fingers.
The guards vanished.
Gone.
The doors of the hall slammed shut at the same moment.
The room erupted into panic.
"What just happened?!"
"Where did they go?!"
"Open the doors!"
Guests rushed toward the exits, but the doors refused to move.
Daniel slowly stepped forward.
"For this is a surprise from Death itself," he said. "A trial for those who treat human lives like numbers on a page."
His face suddenly shifted.
Then again.
And again.
Dozens of faces flickered across his features—skulls, corpses, hollow eyes, screaming shadows. As the god of death, he showed mortals the shapes of the fears buried deep inside their minds.
Screams filled the ballroom.
"No—!"
"What is that thing?!"
"God help us!"
One officer stumbled backward.
"I saw myself dead—!"
A nobleman fell to his knees, shaking.
"This is a trick! Someone stop him!"
Another guest screamed toward the door.
"Let us out! Let us out!"
But Daniel raised the scythe slightly.
"No one leaves my party."
*****
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