Michael's wings were missing some feathers after the battle, his armor drenched in blood. For quasi-rank 3 beings, their bodies could almost regenerate from any wound. But when facing a wound of a similar rank, it was a different story altogether.
"You're still as strong as ever, Michael…" Asmodeous commented with a smile. He was missing two wings, and his left arm hung uselessly at his side. The battle had been brutal, and it was clear he had lost.
"I told you, you would die," Michael said, his smile bright as divine light radiated from his figure. He walked slowly toward Asmodeous, his expression indifferent, even when confronting an old enemy.
Since the beginning, Michael never considered Asmodeous his true enemy. That role belonged to Lucifer. Only he could match Michael's power.
