The singularity sucked everything in, including the angel’s body.

Boom.

Blood and brain matter exploded through the air as the angel’s head was forcefully torn from its neck by the singularity’s pull.

Azrael heaved heavily as he stared at the dead angel.

"My essence is nearly depleted," he muttered.

"System," he called again, this time louder.

Still nothing.

At first Azrael had assumed the system was simply being lazy, that being the reason for its silence.

But now he could not help but suspect it had something to do with the Celestial Army’s invasion.

"To think they had a means of disrupting my connection to the system," Azrael muttered in shock.

"After all that talk of being the strongest, an ordinary army managed to silence it."

He quickly regained his composure.

He looked at the angel again and yanked the spear from its grip.

"I should get out of here before another one finds me," he muttered.

Although he had killed this one fairly easily, the win could be credited largely to the angel underestimating him.

"Killing a tier five at tier one is still an achievement though."

Azrael drifted across the estate once more, a coin beneath each foot.

He had shrunk them down, redirecting all his essence into speed instead.

Thankfully, the academy grounds were isolated enough that he had little to fear there.

Soon, the academy came back into view.

The door did not open.

Azrael’s eyes widened.

His hope seemed to crumble as he looked back. He had planned to hide inside until the Infernal Army arrived to save the clan.

That plan had failed.

There was no going back now.

"I found him," someone yelled from the sky, and Azrael’s head snapped upward.

Two angels.

They stared down at him as though he were a plague.

They swooped down, their wings blotting out the sky as they closed in.

The first was more brutal, spear already driving toward Azrael’s head.

"You puny rat, you dare to kill one of our own," he snarled.

The spear was mere meters away.

Then Azrael’s frame flickered.

The spear passed clean through where his body had been, striking the earth instead.

The angel’s face dropped in shock.

But it was too late.

Azrael had calculated the timing before the spear ever left the angel’s hand, and the angel had taken the bait.

The spear in Azrael’s grip flashed upward, piercing slightly into the angel’s chest.

He did not push it through.

He had his reasons.

"Did you get him, Leo?" The other angel called from behind.

No answer came.

He began walking closer.

Swoosh.

A small coin tore through the air from behind him.

The angel ducked, the coin slicing past above his head.

Azrael shoved the dying angel’s body aside, sending a second coin flying at the same time.

The angel was too slow to react.

The coin sliced clean through his neck, blood spraying through the air.

Azrael’s chest rose and fell unevenly.

"I just killed three tier five angels," he said, still in shock.

But then he checked the state of his core.

"I am out of essence," he sighed.

He looked around, then sat down.

Slowly, essence began to drift back toward him.

"So you are the one who has been killing the angels," a voice roared from the sky.

Azrael’s eyes fluttered open slowly.

His crimson eyes had taken on a deeper sheen, one that made him appear more striking than before.

Around him lay countless angel corpses, lifeless.

Blood stained the ground, dyeing it red. Some bodies were already dry, some still fresh, and others somewhere in between.

"Are you here to die too?" Azrael asked the voice.

It belonged to a tier ten angel, six winged.

"You have grown arrogant simply because you killed a handful of us."

Just then another voice came from behind the speaker.

Azrael recognized the face. It was the same angel he had glimpsed in the sky earlier.

Whether a year had passed, or a century, he could not say.

But this time he did not feel the same crushing pressure as before.

Azrael rose to his feet.

His aura barely reached tier three.

He had not been able to cultivate peacefully, not with the exhausting task of killing thousands of angels every single day.

But something about him had grown far more refined.

More refined, even, than the angel standing before him now.

That refinement was what let him meet the angel’s gaze without buckling beneath the pressure.

’He is still so strong compared to me,’ Azrael thought, studying him.

This was Michael, leader of the Celestial Army.

Golden hair that shone with an otherworldly light. Twelve wings, six on each side, unfurling to cast a wide shadow over Azrael.

A golden spear floated beside him as though gravity were merely an option it chose to ignore.

Michael began his descent.

Slow and regal, as though he had all the time in the world.

Then he landed, softly. Toes first, before settling his weight fully.

"You were expecting the Infernal Army to save you," Michael said, walking toward Azrael.

In the sky, the six winged angel who had spoken earlier was suddenly cleaved into pieces, as if carved apart by the sharpest blade in existence.

Azrael watched the body fall.

He said nothing, only fixing his eyes on the one responsible. Michael.

"But after all this time, you gave up," Michael continued.

He stopped, then raised his spear, pointing its tip at Azrael’s head.

"You may not know this yet, but the Infernal Army has already been destroyed by our Celestial Army."

A wide grin spread across his lips as he spoke, something far too ominous for an angel meant to represent holiness.

Azrael shook his head.

"You are a fool who only spouts nonsense. But let me tell you this. I stopped waiting for the Infernal Army a long time ago."

Thousands of black holes began expanding behind him.

Space and time warped beneath the sheer weight of their pull.

Around him, storms of lightning fast coins gathered, swirling to cover him entirely.

"I will end the Celestial Army myself."

As if those words were a declaration, both sides lunged.

The heavens roared, and the earth groaned beneath the weight of their combined might.