"Slade, could you give me an Incendiary Bomb?"
The female warrior Donna killed the reanimated Ares again. She looked at the fallen armor, her expression complicated as she sighed for a few seconds, then asked Deathstroke for something, intending to destroy the corpse.
Yes, burning an intact corpse felt different from burning a pile of meat chunks.
The former was a funeral; the latter was cooking.
Life needed a sense of ritual. Donna insisted on doing it herself only to give Ares a dignified ending. Their friendship was worth only that much.
As for how to deal with the corpse next, the scientific and reliable solution was, of course, fire, lest another enemy make use of the former God of War's body.
Su Ming supported that idea. Since Ares was rather large, he even gave her a few extra incendiary grenades.
Compared with Little Dai, Donna was more adept with modern weapons. She skillfully pulled the pins from a bundle of grenades and threw them at the corpse on the ground.
Flames erupted with a roar, and a smell a hundred times stronger spread through the air, like someone was frying durian and stinky tofu on an iron griddle using human flesh. Fortunately, Ares caught fire under the effects of white phosphorus and napalm. There was just a bit of smoke, along with the gurgling sound of water boiling from his abdominal cavity.
But before long, the blaze grew fiercer and fiercer, and the stench vanished. The fire illuminated everyone's faces and seemed to drive away—or burn away—the yellow Mist nearby.
That was good news. They had discovered that this rotting fog of Negative Energy could be dispersed by fire. Next, they could tra—no, everyone could proceed with torches.
Cloak flew back from the distant darkness and draped itself over