Azazel loathed those who played their cards unpredictably, and that included all women.
Falling Star, without a word, just awkwardly squinted her eyes, furrowed her brows, and pursed her lips.
Azazel felt like he was about to explode. "Can't you speak? Can't you act normal for once?"
Falling Star looked as though she was on the verge of tears.
At that moment, a figure emerged from behind Falling Star, knocking the cloaked mage unconscious to the ground.
Laurence, drenched in blood, charged out from behind Falling Star, heading straight for the two of them.
"Oh my God! Is this some kind of divine possession? How is he still not dead?" Without a second thought, Azazel dodged to the side. There's a saying that the reckless fear the brave, and the brave fear the desperate. And this desperate being wasn't just anyone; he was a Seraphim with four wings.
Who knew what terrifying act he might commit next? He might even self-destruct.
Valis was stunned by the sudden turn of events, frozen until Laurence reached Terial's side.
"What are you waiting for? Go!" Azazel shouted from a safe distance.
Even without Azazel's prompting, Valis knew what he had to do. From the moment he thrust his sword into his former friend, there was no turning back. Now, as he plunged his sword into Laurence a second time, it was easier. He had signed a contract; there was no choice left for him.
Terial's eyes, once dull, now shone with renewed light: "Laurence, my Laurence, have you returned? I knew it, I knew justice would prevail. You won't be harmed, we are to be married. Look at the state I'm in from crying, Laurence, let us fight side by side, as we always did."
Terial supported her Laurence, tears streaming down her face. It seemed today was destined to be a day of angelic tears. She gazed at Laurence's robe, now a crimson hue from his blood, and the tears fell uncontrollably.
"No, not this time. You must leave!" Laurence coughed up blood and waved her away with a smile.
"How could I? We've fought countless battles together, how can I abandon you now?" Terial was like a frightened rabbit, completely disoriented.
"This is an order. You must listen to me."
"Laurence, I can't..."
"Go, go, go, go, go! This is an order, an order, an order!!! Please, I don't want you to forget everything. I don't want to be soaked in the River Styx. Don't forget me. Now go!"
Seraphim, not only granted the right to prefix their names with "Saint," but also recognized as the elite within the angelic legions.
It wasn't just a title; it was a strict marker of hierarchy.
Order, most often, is manifested through obedience from those of lower rank. Even if the subordinate is unwilling, they must comply, for it is the rule, the command.
Terial flapped her wings and turned to leave.
Valis's face contorted with rage: "Thinking of leaving? Can you really escape? You belong to me, Terial."
Wings sprouted from Azazel's back: "Hold on, I'll give chase."
"Do not underestimate us, you fiends!" Saint Laurence spread his four wings, the powerful aura of sanctity bursting forth, stunning both onlookers. "Fools, we have plenty of time. I'll teach you never to underestimate a Seraph."
"I think you just need more ventilation. Good, I'll make a few more holes in you." Valis sneered as he lifted the Sword of Dawn, which shone like a nascent sun in hell.
"Oh, oh, oh." Azazel let out an odd cry, honestly retracted his wings, and sat down beside the unconscious mage, picking up the scattered green fruits and began to munch while watching the show.
It wasn't that Azazel didn't want to pursue; he simply hadn't had time to practice flying. With his current skill, catching a four-winged angel was like a dwarf trying to outgrow a titan—utterly impossible.
Besides, there was the desperate Saint Laurence.
And why should he care about someone else's love triangle? The spectacle was far more important.
Saint Laurence took to the air, his body surrounded by a golden glow, his demeanor solemn as a martyr about to be sacrificed, a golden cross faintly visible behind him.
Valis knew what Laurence was about to do—it was the Rite of Sacrifice!
Only the most noble of angels, always ready to sacrifice themselves for others, could master this skill. Through this rite, they could instantly return to their strongest state for a brief time—enough to save someone or buy time for others to escape.
But this was not a skill for a mere Seraph; it was beyond their reach, reserved for the higher-ranked Powers.
"This is against the rules! You shouldn't, you're just a Seraph."
"Sacrifice is not a power; it's a virtue. I've waited long for this day. For love, I am willing to sacrifice." As he spoke, a golden cross slowly descended onto Saint Laurence's back.
The rite completed swiftly, and Laurence's face calmed. His wounds vanished as if by magic, restoring him to health in an instant.
Valis's expression darkened; he wasted no words, spreading his wings and charging at Saint Laurence, the Sword of Dawn blazing with light, striking like a meteor, a dawn ray piercing the darkness, unstoppable.
Laurence surged upward with a flap of his wings, evading the fierce thrust.
Valis's sword met only air. Suddenly, a commanding voice boomed from above, powerful as if uttered by the King of Kings from his throne. The voice, speaking in the sacred tongue, declared, "Decree: Intimidation!"
In an instant, Valis's mind felt as if struck by a heavy mallet. He stood frozen, his heart seized by the voice, unable to move a muscle.
Laurence's Seraph sword, ablaze with blue flames, descended from the sky. Valis could only watch helplessly as the blade approached, unable to move.
The Sword of Dawn's glow burst forth, its warmth and tenderness like a mother's caress. It swept away all discomfort and negative impressions, filling Valis with courage.
In a critical moment, Valis parried with his sword. The clashing blades rang out clear and sharp. The holy blue flames battled the gentle radiance.
"You should've died long ago! Why won't you just die! Go and die!" Valis roared, pushing with all his might, driving Saint Laurence away before swiftly leaping to pursue.
"I will, with you." Laurence was propelled into the sky but did not fall. Hovering in the air, he extended his hand and pointed at the approaching Valis. The spell slipped from his lips, and a massive fireball erupted forth.
Valis bellowed, "Is that all you've got?" Undeterred by the flames, he charged through the fireball, thrusting his divine sword forward.
Boom!
A massive explosion echoed, and Valis, undeterred, burst through the fire and smoke, unimpeded by the blast.
But as he emerged, Valis froze. Laurence had vanished from his sight. Valis held the Sword of Dawn aloft, unsure where to strike. Above? Below? He scanned the area but found nothing.
Where was he? He couldn't just disappear. Damn, it must be invisibility!
He was a step too slow. A flaming sword suddenly emerged from the void behind Valis, descending from above to sever his white wings.
Valis screamed as blood spurted from his back. The wingless angel fell from the blood-red sky, crashing onto the charred ground of hell.
"Valis, you are no longer an Archangel. By bowing to a devil, you no longer deserve these pristine wings."
The cold voice of Saint Laurence drifted down from above, piercing the ears of the once mighty Archangel Valis. Valis struggled to lift his head from the blackened earth, looking up at the angel in the sky.
Saint Laurence stood above, raising his hand to the heavens. A massive, pure white sword appeared in his grasp, the high-tier form of the "Sword of Judgment." His holy voice resonated through the sky, "Evil, I judge you in the name of Mount Celestia!"
Valis could only look up.
The sky, in his eyes, was nothing but pure white.
Is this the end?
Is it over?
Such unwillingness, such resistance. Is a mere difference in rank truly insurmountable?
I only wanted... I only wanted to be a warrior as exalted as Laurence.
"I sentence you: Death!"