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The two-headed goblin, who was two heads taller than all the angels, cackled as it raised its arms. Its shadow expanded, and every time the dark blob made contact with the soldiers’, darkness crawled up their bodies until their features were covered in black. The soldiers who were affected remained motionless as the goblin swung its massive, spiked club, bludgeoning the unresponsive angels. Its shadow continued to spread, paralyzing more and more soldiers.
Lightning rained down on the army as the red harpy in the sky let out a shriek. Nearly a quarter of the army was decimated by the time Dinah reacted and used her own powers, canceling the lightning and growing shadows. When the harpy realized its powers weren’t working, it flew away while both the goblin’s heads laughed. One head shouted, “For my tribe!” while the other one shouted, “Glory in death!”
“Rally to me!” one of the commanders of the army yelled as he raised his lance and stabbed at the goblin. The two-headed goblin wore red armor that was made of the same metal as the checkpoint walls, and its club was made of similar materials. When its weapon collided with the lance, the lance crumpled and shattered with a screeching sound. The angel’s face paled as he took a step back.
Dinah gritted her teeth. “Should I cancel my power?” she asked the four archangels beside her as they watched the army fight against the goblin. The soldiers were whittling it down, surrounding and stabbing it from all directions.
“No,” Percy said. “We still have to watch out for the harpy, and the centaur hasn’t made its appearance yet.” He scanned the surroundings, and his face blanched as he saw hundreds of halflings in the distance, coming from all directions. Just when he was about to order Dinah to cancel her ability, white flags rose up from all directions. “T-they’re surrendering?”
“That doesn’t make sense,” General Jones said as the two-headed goblin fell to its knees, blood pouring from the gaps in its armor. “It’s a trap. There’s no way Solra would surrender like this.”
“Perhaps he didn’t mean for that fallen angel of wrath to die,” Andrew said as he rubbed his chin, releasing Dinah’s hand. “Or he wants to open up negotiations for Melissa. I don’t believe that angel was telling the truth before. Melissa’s too strong to die. Either way, we should take this chance to reorganize our troops.” His brow furrowed. Two-fifths of the army died, but the rebels lost two archangel-like forces: Ishim and the gluttony goblin.
The rebel army continued to march forward while holding the flags up high. When they were within their hand cannon firing range, they stopped moving, and a lone figure continued forward as the angels’ army took a defensive formation, leaving the gluttony goblin on the ground. “Solra,” Percy said to the lone figure. “How many years has it been since we last met?”
“Over a decade,” Solra replied as he lowered the flag in his hand. “Where’s Ishim?”
“You mean the fallen angel?” Percy asked. Solra nodded once. “He died.”
“I see,” Solra said.
“Where’s Melissa?” Percy asked.
Solra shook his head. “My army has nothing to do with her,” he said. “She’s missing?”
“You really don’t know?” Percy asked, furrowing his brow. Was there a third party involved? Although he didn’t trust Solra, there was something about the traitor’s demeanor that told him he wasn’t lying.
“What’s the meaning of the white flags?” General Jones shouted before Solra could respond. “Why are you surrendering now?”
“Oh,” Solra said and looked down at the flag in his hand. “This?” He waved it. “It was to make you drop your guard.” Barely noticeable ripples leaked from his body as he established his zone of charity. His expression was grim as he shouted, “Fire!”
Michael was the first one to react. He yelled, “Bastard!” before lunging towards Andrew. He grasped the council member’s hand and said, “Boost me!” Andrew’s stunned expression recovered to a neutral one, and his face paled as he used his powers of self-sacrifice on Michael. Metal balls flew towards the army, but a wall of swirling winds rose up around the angels. Most of the projectiles were deflected, but a few still managed to break through, tearing off limbs as they struck the soldiers.
Solra had retreated when he gave the command to fire, and a red lizardman approached him. Solra sighed as he grasped the halfling’s hand and said to Andrew, even though the angel probably couldn’t hear him, “You’re not the only altruistic being around here.” A wave of mana entered Solra’s body, and the ripples surrounding him became visible. The wall of wind stopped roaring as the winds slowed to a crawl. Another wave of projectiles was fired towards the army, causing their faces to pale.
“This can’t be happening,” Dinah whispered, her face as white as a sheet. The soldiers were screaming, and the ranks were in disorder as they tried their best to avoid the projectiles. She attempted to heal the army but was unable to call forth her powers under Solra’s suppression. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned towards Percy. “Stop him!” she shouted. Her gaze landed on Solra. “Stop! Order them to stop!”
General Jones sighed as she planted the butt of her lance into the ground. The army was too scattered to attempt a charge, and even if they managed to organize themselves, there was no guarantee they’d make it past the barrage. A metal ball whizzed over her head and crashed into a soldier behind her. She grimaced as her hair fluttered and settled back on her shoulders. A sigh escaped from her lips as the dying wails of her subordinates filled the air. She thought the arrival of the council members would make a difference. She never expected them to be so weak. Had they even commanded an army before? Probably not. Her lips twisted into a wry smile as she released her weapon and let her arms hang at her sides as she stared up at the sky. This was probably how the halflings she enslaved felt when she conquered their villages.
“We surrender!” Percy shouted, but the cannons continued to roar, drowning out his voice. The surviving soldiers threw down their weapons and raised their hands into the air. A metal projectile flew through the air and struck Andrew in the chest, creating a bloody, gaping cavity in the angel’s sternum.
“Stop!” Dinah shouted as her tears continued to fall. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” She shouted until her voice was hoarse, but Solra continued using his powers as if he hadn’t heard her, refusing to let her heal the dying angel next to her.
Of course, Solra had heard her. He had heard her the first time she shouted. The corner of his lips drooped, and his brow furrowed, but instead of canceling his ability, he grasped the lizardman’s hand tighter. The resentment of the halflings that built up over the years, he was unable to stop that. Even if he ordered them all to stop now, they wouldn’t. If anything, they’d turn on him too. Their ancestors had been enslaved: the dwarves nearly wiped out along with the harpies, the lizardmen treated like beasts of burden. A sigh escaped from his lips as the shouting of the angels’ army stopped. Soon, the cannons stopped roaring as well. For a short while, the only sounds that could be heard were the muffled sobs of the surviving angels. But then, they were drowned out by the cheers of the rebel army.
Solra approached the handful of living angels who were waiting in the gore of their dead companions. Dinah was on her knees, sobbing as she clutched Andrew’s cold hands. She raised her head when she heard Solra approach. “Why didn’t you stop?” she asked, her eyes dim. She attempted to use her powers. “You still haven’t stopped.”
The surrounding halflings began to congregate towards the carnage, eager to claim their spoils of victory. Solra’s expression was dark as the halflings picked up the corpses while some began feasting right away. Pyre had truly taught them grotesque methods of increasing their power. “Stop!” Solra shouted as a centaur unsheathed a sword and raised it above the group of surviving angels. The centaur’s eyes narrowed as the blade paused over the angels’ heads. Solra’s gaze seemed to burn the halfling, and the centaur snorted before sheathing its weapon. Solra swept his gaze over his army. “We bury the dead.” His gaze stopped on his old coworkers who were looking up at him with hatred and despair. Burying the dead—it was the least he could do.