As the Archangel saw the face of the True Depravita of Pride, a meaningful light crossed his eyes.
"The intelligence reports claimed that you killed Metatron and took control of his body and soul," the Archangel said. "At first, I did not believe the latter part. But it seems that small rat was telling the truth after all."
He tilted his head slightly, as if reconsidering an old decision.
"Perhaps I should not have killed him."
The Archangel shrugged casually, showing not the slightest concern, before shifting his gaze away from Overlord. His eyes settled instead on the calcined figure standing beside him.
The True Depravita of Wrath.
Vlad remained fused with Jormungandr, Ouroboros, and Fafnir. Every inch of his skin and muscle was calcified, nearly petrified, as though he had been turned into living stone. His body looked broken beyond recovery.
Then—
A violent surge of life and energy erupted from within him.
