The gods were not merciful.
When Kratos was eight, the war god Thareon descended upon his village. His father—a blacksmith—had dared question the gods' tithes. For this, Thareon burned him alive before the villagers. His mother tried to shield Kratos and was cast into the sky, her body torn apart by divine flame.
"Let him live," Thareon had said, "so he learns obedience."
But Kratos did not learn obedience. He learned hate.
He grew up in the Ashen Wilds, a cursed land untouched by gods. He hunted beasts, trained with exiled warriors, and carved weapons from bone and iron. His heart hardened. His goal never changed:
Kill the gods.
One night, he found a ruin buried in snow: the Sanctuary of Silence. Inside was an ancient gate, sealed in magic older than language. As he stepped inside, the world blinked—and he fell into a dreamless dark.
There, he met the Nameless Trial—a forgotten divine force that tested those who dared seek god-slaying power.
"To kill a god," it said, "you must first kill the fear of them."
It attacked. With no sword, no voice, no hope—Kratos was crushed again and again. But he rose. Again. And again.
And when he bled his last breath, something awakened inside him.
He screamed—not in pain, but in fury—and the trial shattered.
Before him appeared the God Killer Blades.
Twin curved weapons, forged from the bones of the First Fallen God, humming with rage.
They burned his hands. They whispered madness. But Kratos did not let go.
He gripped them tight—and the earth around him cracked.
When he stepped out of the ruins, the mountains split behind him. The sky flickered.
In the high halls of the gods, Thareon turned slowly.
"He lives," the war god muttered.
"And he carries death in both hands."
Enter the Warden of Chains
As Kratos descended the shattered mountain, blades pulsing in his fists, a storm of black ash howled across the ridge.
From the shadows emerged a towering figure clad in molten iron, eyes glowing with searing gold. Chains wrapped around his arms like living serpents, their ends burning with divine fire.
"Kratos," the figure growled. "You carry blades not meant for mortal hands."
This was Varethos, the Warden of Chains—the gods' enforcer. Once mortal, now bound by oaths and divine fire, his soul belonged to the gods he once defied.
Kratos raised his blades. "Then try and take them."
Varethos struck with fury—chains cracked like thunder, smashing stone and fire into the sky. Kraros dodged, barely, then countered with a brutal slash. Sparks flew. The air rippled.
The battle raged, neither gaining ground. But Kratos, bleeding and wild-eyed, whispered:
"You fight with fear in your heart. I fight with nothing left to lose."
With one final roar, he drove both blades into Varethos' chest. The chains fell silent.
As the Warden collapsed, he looked up and smiled faintly.
"Good… kill them all."
Then he was gone—ashes in the wind.
Now kratos is going to kill the THAREON-
⚔️ Chapter: The Hunt for the War God
The winds howled like wolves. Snow blanketed the mountain pass, but Kratos pressed on—his cloak torn, body battered from past battles. He walked alone, guided only by whispers carried in the storm.
"Thareon… the War God… He sleeps beneath the Black Peaks. Only blood will wake him."
That's what the last dying demigod had gasped before Kratos crushed his skull.
Now Kratos stood at the entrance of an ancient battleground. Spears jutted from the earth like gravestones. Shields, rusted by time, still carried dried blood. The air smelled of iron and old hate.
In the center of the wasteland, a colossal obsidian gate stood half-buried in ice. On it, carved in forgotten runes:
"Only the worthy may challenge the Flame of War."
Kratos growled. "I'm not here for permission."
He slammed his fist into the gate—once, twice—until it cracked open. The sound echoed across the mountains like war drums returning to life.
From the chasm beyond, a red light burst out. The temperature dropped. The sky blackened. And from deep within the earth, a voice thundered—
"Who dares disturb my slumber?"
The ground split. Flames shot into the sky.
And then he rose.
🔥 Thareon, the War God, emerged.
Ten feet tall, armored in black and red. His spear burned with eternal flame. Wings of ash stretched wide. His gaze found Kratos instantly.
"You," he said. "The Ghost of Sparta. Slayer of Olympus. I've heard whispers."
"Then you know why I've come," Kratos replied.
Thareon grinned. "I hoped you would."
He took flight, the ground cracking beneath him.
💥 Chapter: Kratos vs. Thareon – The Battle Begins
Thareon soared into the sky, then dived like a hawk. Kratos dodged just in time, but the shockwave from the god's landing sent him flying through a stone pillar.
Before he could rise, Thareon hurled a spear of pure flame. Kratos deflected it mid-air with the Blades of Chaos, sending sparks everywhere.
"You are strong," Thareon admitted, circling. "But not a god. You will fall like the rest."
Kratos pounded his fist into his own chest. "I don't need to be a god. I need to kill one."
He charged, blades screaming, and leapt high, aiming for Thareon's chest. The War God blocked—but Kratos spun behind him, wrapping the chains around his leg, yanking him down.
Thareon smashed into the earth — and Kratos didn't wait. He was already on top of him, blades plunging, fury unleashed.
But the War God roared and sent out a pulse of divine energy that blasted Kratos backward into a jagged rock wall.
Blood poured from Kratos's mouth.
"Is that all?" Thareon taunted. "Where is the rage that killed Olympus?"
Kratos stood. Silent. Steady.
Then, with fire in his eyes, he spoke.
"You'll feel it now."
⚔️ The End of War
Thareon lunged.
His spear aimed for Kratos's heart—but Kratos sidestepped, grabbed the shaft mid-thrust, and snapped it over his knee. Before Thareon could react, Kratos hurled a Blade of Chaos through the god's wing, pinning him to a crumbling statue of a forgotten king.
"You bleed," Kratos growled.
Thareon roared and broke free—but too slow. Kratos was already there.
He smashed his fists into the god's helmet—once, twice, again—until it cracked and split. Blood, thick and golden, poured down Thareon's face.
The god reached out, grabbed Kratos by the throat, lifting him.
"I… am WAR!"
Kratos coughed blood, then smiled.
"War is over."
He plunged both Blades of Chaos into Thareon's chest, twisted, then ripped them apart—splitting the god's body open like a gate.
Thareon collapsed to his knees. His wings disintegrated. His war cries silenced.
"Impossible…" he gasped.
Kratos leaned in, whispering:
"You were strong. But I am death."
With one final slash, he severed Thareon's head.
The god of war fell.
The battlefield went silent.
Only Kratos remained—bloodied, breathless,
🏆 The Rise of the God of War
As Thareon's lifeless body crumbled into ash, a deep rumble echoed through the heavens. The storm clouds parted, and golden light poured down onto Kratos.
The ancient spirits of war, long dormant, stirred in reverence. A voice boomed from the skies — ancient, commanding, and full of power:
"Mortals who claim the throne of gods are rare... but you, Kratos, have shattered the old war and forged a new path."
The Blades of Chaos ignited with blazing light, and Kratos felt an overwhelming power surge through him—not as a gift, but as a rightful claim.
From this moment, the world whispered his name with fear and awe:
Kratos — The God of War.
Now Kratos is going to fight the Goddess of nature and beasts - Sylvra.