Hundreds of angels hovered silently beneath the blazing white sky, golden eyes fixed on Laurent—cold, identical, utterly devoid of emotion.
Even that alone was enough to darken Laurent's expression to something feral.
The air grew crushingly heavy, a pressure so great his body trembled under it, every nerve howling in pain.
Though this wasn't the true Realm of Divinity, the angels had recreated it well enough—a false heaven, built for their descent.
Laurent clenched his fists until bone cracked audibly.
A bloodthirsty grin cut across his face.
"I'd been wondering how to drag you feathered bastards out. Looks like you've saved me the trouble of hunting you down myself."
"Enjoy your bravado while you can."
Laurent raised his right hand, palm open toward the skyful of angels.
"If you've got the guts, kill me here. Otherwise, I'll peel off your wings one by one and pave the road with your blood."
"You've violated the rules," one intoned coldly. "Death is your only end."
Laurent's smile sharpened. "Who decided those rules?"
"Good and evil have always stood opposed. You chose evil. You should have been ready for judgment."
"You talk too much."
He stepped forward. Blood burst from beneath his feet, rippling outward in a spreading tide. His whole body trembled, but he masked it beneath his grin.
"If you're going to kill me, don't say I didn't give you the chance."
No reply came. The angels raised their weapons as one, light coalescing along every blade.
Laurent's eyes flicked around sharply—then he vanished.
An instant later, a hundred lances of pure light struck where he'd stood, erasing the blood that had soaked into the ground.
They weren't archangels—not as strong as Michael—but there were hundreds of them. Even for Laurent, it was a no-win fight.
As he reappeared, several angels dove from behind, blades flashing. Laurent twisted, caught one's arm, flipped midair—and lost his own.
His right arm was severed cleanly. He hit the ground hard, light spears raining after him. A dozen cut across his back before he rolled away.
His arm hadn't even begun to regenerate when another attack grazed his face, so close it burned.
More light fell from above.
Laurent abandoned all defense. Pain was nothing new. Even as searing radiance ate into his flesh, he lunged forward, appearing before the nearest angel.
Blood erupted from his back like a storm of thorns.
The angel's eyes widened, but Laurent was faster.
Boom!
A crimson spike speared straight through the angel's chest. Instead of devouring him, Laurent ripped him apart with writhing tendrils of blood.
Crack!
The angel exploded into pieces before he could even scream. Blood rained down in sheets of burning red. It seared Laurent's skin like acid, but his grin only widened. Arms spread, he laughed.
"Don't you think it's a beautiful sight?"
Blood matted his hair, ran down his face.
The angels trembled with fury, golden eyes blazing.
"Blasphemer—"
"Delightful, isn't it?" Laurent cut in coldly, smile twisting.
"My dear angels, your blood's red too. Your fear—ah, it tastes divine."
He licked the blood from his fingers, eyes now entirely crimson.
Several angels faltered, a flicker of unease breaking through their composure.
Laurent's laughter split the air.
"Absolute Evil…" one of them whispered, horrified.
"But—it still has consciousness…?"
"No, no." Laurent grinned, teeth flashing. "My mind's still right here. Or rather—maybe I've gone mad?"
He threw his head back and howled with laughter.
"Hahahahaha! Madness, yes! My dear angels—how long has it been since we met? Sealing me away back then must've felt so good, huh?"
His laughter dropped into a low, venomous growl. Shadows crawled across his face.
"Now, let's settle every last one—of—your—debts."
Boom!
His foot slammed into the ground, blood detonating outward. It surged like a living tide, devouring everything, consuming even the edges of their false realm.
"Not good! He's unsealed himself completely! Everyone—unleash everything you have!"
But Laurent had already dissolved into blood.
When he reappeared, he stood behind another angel.
Boom!
His fist tore straight through the angel's chest. Another body fell apart in a spray of crimson rain.
"Holy Light—"
"Sorry," Laurent hissed, "even if your precious Lord showed up, I'd kill Him too!"
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The battle tipped instantly. Holy light clashed with blood in blinding bursts, but Laurent's slaughter was relentless—more than a dozen angels fell before they could even react.
Realizing the chaos slipping from their control, several angels met each other's eyes, resolve hardening.
"Sacrifice our lives—seal away the evil!"
The air convulsed. Blinding gold erupted from their bodies, pressing down like the weight of mountains.
Chains of light shot out, alive, lashing through Laurent's limbs and chest, nailing him in place.
Each chain drew blood as it pierced him, crimson spilling from his mouth. Yet his expression never broke—defiant, vicious, unyielding.
Then came the spears.
One after another they struck, golden seals blooming with each impact, dimming his aura, dimming his eyes.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Each blow sank another lock into his body, choking out the last of his strength.
Hundreds of angels descended slowly, surrounding him.
Their voices were grim, tinged with awe and fear.
"To think it took this many sacrifices to seal you again… Stop your futile struggle. You were never our equal. Jeanne's fate is already set—she will offer herself for peace between France and England. Such is destiny's decree."
For a moment, silence.
Then Laurent—bleeding, bound, barely breathing—lifted his head with unnatural rigidity. His eyes burned crimson, wide with rage.
His voice scraped out between torn lips:
"What… did you just say?"
And in that instant, every angel present felt a cold, primal terror seize their hearts.