"You are finally awake," Azrael said as he looked at Sirris.

Sirris blinked, backflipping away from the overly close Azrael.

The rest of the students gathered around her too.

"What happened?" She asked, still wearing an expression of shock.

"You were knocked unconscious after our spar," Azrael explained.

Sirris remained still for a moment before nodding in understanding.

Seeing she had woken up, Aiden sighed.

"Well, see you all in the next class."

The students stared at him with furrowed brows at his sudden dismissal.

Aiden did not bother to say anything else.

He lifted off the floor calmly, returning to the same spot they had found him in when they first entered.

"Instructor Aiden," Azrael said.

Before he could finish the sentence, his vision blurred.

A sudden wave of disorientation hit him before everything snapped back into focus.

Regaining hold of his senses, Azrael found himself standing in the same reception room he had passed through that morning.

"Huh?" The word squeezed itself out of his mouth.

He looked around again, trying to assess the situation.

There was no one there.

He searched the space, then finally sighed.

"He did not even wait to hear me out," he muttered, taking calm steps toward the exit.

"Why is the receptionist not here?" Azrael wondered as he stepped through the door.

He dismissed the thought quickly.

The area outside was empty, but he was used to that by now. The academy had never been built near anything else.

A coin appeared beneath him, lifting him off the ground before shooting toward the residential area of the estate.

While he flew, Azrael could not help but wonder what had happened to the rest of his classmates. Why had they not been at the reception too?

"System," he called.

There was no response, only silence.

"This system. I wonder when it will finally see a psychiatrist for systems," Azrael muttered.

The residential area came into view, and there was only one word for what he felt.

Shock.

"What is going on here?" He muttered, pouring more essence into the coin beneath him.

It surged forward, creating a vacuum behind it from the sheer speed.

Smoke rose high into a blood red sky.

Blood flowed across the land like a river.

Instinctively, Azrael turned his gaze upward.

As if he had done something he was never meant to do.

As if he were a mortal daring to look directly at a god.

Pressure seized him instantly.

Pain tore through his entire being, far more destabilizing than anything he had felt consuming the skill fruits. To compare the two would almost be an insult.

His pores burst with blood.

It seeped from every opening in his body. Eyes, pores, mouth, nose, ears, all of it.

He looked away immediately, barely catching his breath.

His regeneration skill activated instantly, healing him before the blood loss could turn severe.

He had only taken a glimpse, but it had been enough to see what was there.

His chest rose and fell at a frantic pace, as though his heart were about to tear free.

"The Celestial Army."

As he said those words, several thoughts gnawed at his mind.

’How could they be here? Is this the end for the Malvorin clan?’

In his lesson with Sylvester earlier that day, he had learned about the Celestial Army.

They were the primary force of the angels, comparable to the Infernal Army.

But the issue was that the Infernal Army had been formed by all seven demon lineages combined.

Not just one.

If the Celestial Army targeted a single demon lineage, destruction was the only outcome waiting for them, regardless of how powerful that lineage was.

"Only the Pride Lineage has any chance of surviving if the Celestial Army attacks a lineage directly."

Sylvester’s words from earlier that day replayed in his mind as he thought of the Celestial Army.

At that moment, something dropped in front of him, cratering the ground on impact.

Azrael did not hesitate. He changed direction instantly, veering toward the opposite side.

He held nothing back, pouring all of his essence into the coin to push its speed further.

The angel rose from the knee it had landed on.

Two wide white wings unfurled as it stood. Beside it, a spear remained driven deep into the earth.

A flicker of amusement crossed its eyes.

But that was all.

It yanked the spear free.

Essence flooded the weapon from shaft to tip, and with a powerful throw, it launched the spear toward Azrael.

The coin’s speed meant nothing in that moment. The spear crossed the distance as though it had never needed to travel at all.

"Argh," Azrael yelled as the spear drove through his heart.

The pain nearly knocked him off the coin, but he steadied himself.

He stared at the spear’s tip, still lodged in his chest.

His eyes flickered with pain.

Slowly, he began to push it back out.

"There is no need for that," a voice said from behind him.

The spear slid sideways, slicing free cleanly.

Azrael’s body moved on instinct, throwing a punch toward the voice.

The angel’s head snapped sideways, narrowly avoiding it.

Azrael dropped from the coin, sending it shooting off faster on its own.

His chest had already begun to close.

The angel turned, watching Azrael’s fading figure.

It struck the coin with the tip of its spear, destroying it before it could carry him any further.

With a single leap, it landed in front of Azrael.

Azrael was ready.

"You know what? Screw you," he said, raising his middle finger.

The angel shook its head.

"You are but a child who does not know the difference between heaven and earth."

"Then lecture me," Azrael yelled, lunging forward, fist clenched as he threw a hook at the angel’s head.

The angel stepped back just enough to avoid it, then thrust the spear toward Azrael’s head.

Azrael swept it aside with his palm.

Capitalizing on the brief imbalance, he drove a punch toward the angel’s face.

At the top of his fist, a singularity began to form, expanding rapidly as he closed the distance.