[Did you summon this gate..?]
Hearing the question asked by the angelic being standing before him, Orien forcefully calmed himself down. His breathing stabilized slowly, each breath grounding his mind as the turbulence within him settled little by little.
His power influenced even me. The angels really do have the charm to bring everyone weaker than them on their knees... thankfully I have a very high Will and managed to escape his influence...
That invisible pressure was also the reason the Saints had misunderstood the true power level of the Angel. His charm constantly affected perception itself, bending emotions and thoughts of others without leaving a trace. Combined with the natural superiority Angels held over mortals, such a misunderstanding was inevitable.
But Orien was not someone who could mistake the aura of an Angel.
How could he forget the presence of beings like them, when his mother had sacrificed her life to save him from the so called holy judgment of their Gods.
Silence filled the surroundings, thick and oppressive, as if even the air hesitated to move. Orien remained silent, his gaze steady, offering no response to the question.
Remiel asked again, assuming Orien was still overwhelmed by his presence, but once more he received no answer. This time, a flicker of irritation surfaced within him. Just as he was about to act, a voice echoed from behind.
"Esteemed Lord, it was indeed this demon who opened this door. He is the one who caused the worldwide natural disasters and killed the rest of my brothers and sisters."
Saint Alfhard spoke, his voice heavy with grief and restrained despair. His eyes were bloodshot, burdened by suppressed emotions, yet within them burned a fragile hope as he looked toward the Angel with deep reverence.
Hearing the voice, Battle Angel Remiel turned his head toward the Saints. From afar, the scene appeared almost sacred. Humans kneeling in despair and hope, while an Angel radiated a domineering aura above them, resembling an otherworldly god listening to their plea for salvation.
As Remiel looked at the Elf Saint, his senses suddenly caught something moving.
This worm dares!!!!
In the next instant, anger flared within him like a sudden storm. He sensed Orien making a move. To Remiel, the world slowed, every detail becoming clear, yet Orien’s speed still exceeded his expectations, fast enough to surprise him despite his elevated perception.
Still, as a Battle Angel, Remiel felt no danger.
What he felt was disdain.
"Hmph!!!"
The moment Orien entered his reach, Remiel’s hand blurred. A casual backhand slap landed squarely against Orien’s cheek, as though swatting away something insignificant.
-CRACK!!!
The sharp sound of something breaking echoed violently through the surroundings before Orien was sent flying away at terrifying speed.
-SWOOSH!!!!
His body skidded across the ground, smashing through stone and reinforced walls, tearing a massive hole through the castle as debris scattered from the sheer force of the impact.
The Saints stood frozen in disbelief. The same Orien who had dominated them moments ago, who had been invincible in close range combat, was now thrown away like a broken doll. Their understanding of power shattered instantly, and without realizing it, reverence and awe toward the Angels quietly took root in their hearts.
Even the Demon Generals were frozen stiff. They did not dare move a single inch, not even after seeing the prince they worshipped struck down so effortlessly.
Yet among everyone present, the most shocked was none other than Remiel himself.
What?? How is this possible?
Though his expression remained unchanged, a dull pain spread through his internal organs, subtle but undeniable.
Don’t tell me that filthy demon was able to injure me. He injured ME? MEE??? HOW DARE HE??????
It was not the pain that angered him. It was the insult.
His pride took the blow far deeper than his body ever could. If word of this humiliation spread, even slightly, it would stain his name forever. Though no one would know about it, but it’s entirely different matter. To him getting hurt by someone weaker than him was like an ant biting an elephant.
Without hesitation, Remiel raised his hand calmly, almost casually, and beams of blinding light manifested instantly around him, forming with precise intent before crashing down toward the hole where Orien had been sent flying.
There was no warning and no mercy.
The beams moved at the speed of light, each one carrying concentrated destructive energy refined for annihilation rather than spectacle. Even the Saints felt their instincts scream at them to retreat, as the pressure alone threatened to crush their senses.
-BOOM!!
-BOOM!!
-BOOM!!!
-BOOM!!
The ground convulsed violently, as if the land itself was being pummeled by giants. Deep cracks tore through the once proud city of the dwarves, spreading like veins across stone and steel alike. The defensive arrays that had endured countless natural disasters shattered instantly, unable to withstand even a fraction of the Angel’s intent.
The power wielded by Angels eclipsed natural disasters entirely, not because it was wild, but because it was controlled.
Only a few minutes passed, yet for everyone present, time stretched unnaturally long. No one dared to move. No one even dared to think too loudly.
The Saints, however, felt a twisted sense of relief. Watching Orien being relentlessly erased filled them with grim satisfaction, and some could not help but think that if they had waited just a little longer before intervening, things might have ended very differently.
If they had waited, perhaps those fallen Saints would still be alive.
Still, they did not blame the World Tree or the Whisperer. The arrival of an Angel had never been part of anyone’s calculations. Such beings did not descend without reason.
Finally, the bombardment ceased.
By then, every array protecting the city had been reduced to fragments. The land above was barely holding itself together, suspended on the verge of collapse, as though reality itself was struggling to maintain cohesion.
The castle was completely destroyed. Nothing remained of its former structure. The Visionary who had once hidden within its depths met a gruesome end, erased so thoroughly that not even remnants of existence lingered.
Broken stones glowed a deep crimson, as if heated beyond reason, and the ground beneath had partially melted, warped and scarred by overwhelming divine energy.
The Abyssal Gate, however, remained unaffected. With the destruction of the castle, it hung silently in the air, anchored directly to the surface of reality itself, untouched and indifferent to the devastation below.
"Hmph. Filthy bastard."
Remiel’s voice carried arrogance, but beneath it lay something colder. He had only halted the bombardment once he sensed the demon’s life force rapidly fading. By that time, the internal injuries he had sustained earlier were already healed, restored without effort.
Although Angels came in different types, merely being one granted superior regeneration and recovery. However, they could not heal others. Angels who specialized in healing were revered precisely because of that distinction, their healing abilities were faster, purer, and far more refined.
Minor injuries required no healing Angel at all. But for grievous wounds, those Angels were treated as divine beings in their own right.
With the castle reduced to nothing, Remiel shifted his gaze toward the broken and mangled body of the Hollow Queen. The once terror inducing abomination was clearly nearing its end, even though this was not its true form. In reality, the true bodies of such creatures were minuscule, hidden beneath layers of grotesque manifestation.
Although I ignored it previously, it certainly is a very rare abomination....
Remiel observed the tiny motes released from the creature, still lingering in the air and spreading across the vast continent crowded with towering mountains.
It’s a pity I am not a healing angel. Otherwise, I could have purified the entire air.
He hated being surrounded by those drifting motes, filthy remnants left behind by some grotesque monster. Their very presence offended him.
Even so, he removed the influence of the tiny motes known as Hollow Borns from the several kneeling Saints. When he had first arrived, their condition had been far worse. Their bodies were already being eroded by these small creatures, and their minds were teetering on the edge of madness due to the presence of Abyssal gates, only barely held together by their Will and anger.
If left alone for even a little longer, they would have lost themselves completely.
Healing them was not hard, just basking in the Divine energy was enough to shrug of the influence of the Madness and kill these tiny creatures.
He kept them alive not out of mercy, but because he sensed their strength. They were the strongest beings present on this planet, and that alone made them useful.
He needed information. No, more than that...
I need to collect all the information on how this Abyssal Gate was summoned here. If I can uncover the reason behind it and submit a complete report to the Heavenly Realm, I will be rewarded heavily and may even gain the chance to cultivate in ’that’ Realm...
That was the only reason Remiel allowed them to live.
He was quite pleased with himself.
Earlier, the entire Heavenly Realm had been tasked with identifying and finding the anomaly that shattered the strings of fate, an event that had thrown all Three Realms into chaos and disrupted the fragile peace they had maintained for countless ages. With fate damaged, the natural order that guided revelation and foresight had been crippled.
Those who harbored hidden agendas against the Heavens immediately seized this opportunity. Attacks erupted across multiple fronts, and even the Abyssal Realm began acting more aggressively, attempting countless methods to form a path into the Mortal Realm.
The disruption of fate had presented them with a golden opportunity. With the eyes of the Heavens partially blinded, their enemies were finally able to move freely, unrestrained and unseen.
That was also the reason Remiel was here.
The original plan was to dispatch low ranking angels across countless planets, galaxies, and even entire universes in search of this so called anomaly.
However, due to the sheer number of simultaneous attacks they were facing, the Heavenly Realm could not mobilize all its forces solely for the search. Instead, they adapted to the situation rather than forcing an impossible strategy.
The high ranking angels who were already away from the Heavenly Realm, wandering the vast expanse of the Cosmos, were given new tasks. They were ordered to act as bridges between Heaven and the larger Universe, sweeping through entire galaxies and universes while investigating every irregularity they encountered.
Sending lower ranking angels alone would have been pointless. Their strength was insufficient against the enemies that had plagued the Heavenly Realm for millions of years. Dispatching those who could not even protect themselves would only result in unnecessary losses and wasted effort.
And time was the one thing the Heavens could no longer afford to lose. After all, the more time they wasted, the later they would find the anomaly, and the greater the consequences would become.
***