Alisson awoke on a hard slab of stone, and found himself restrained. His back stung with the phantom pain of healing, so he knew that the Angels had at the very least healed him to stop his bleeding backside.

  An Angel backed off from looming over him, their hands glowing with a spell – Probably one to wake him up.

  Alisson immediately assumed that whatever spiritual repair the Angel’s had in store for him wasn’t over. He looked to be in an open, bright room, empty of anything but the shine of lights from the crevices of walls.

  “He’s awake. Alisson, traitor to our cause.”

  Alisson’s eyes widened when he heard that. His restraints suddenly came undone, and he rose up off the flat stone bed, feeling his back tighten with pain as he stretched it.

  “SC has found you inherently untrustworthy.” There were a screen of three Angels standing a ways away, and from them, one continued to speak at him, “Thus Michaela has authorized your final penance. There is no saving your wicked soul.”

  Alisson frowned, and rose to his feet. The three Angels were covered head to toe in metal, and looked less like warriors and more like childish figments of what knightly warriors would look like, with oversized armor and glowing wings and halos.

  The Angel who had woken him up threw Alisson’s sword at his feet, and then bowed, before backing away. Alisson kicked the sword up with a foot, grabbing it with a hand.

  “Alright…If that’s how it is.” Alisson gave a flourish of his blade and sunk into stance with his blade over his elbow.

  He had no armor other than Firo, no items other than his sword, and no tricks other than his poultry magic.

  The Angel’s gave flourishes with their hands, snapping into existence spears with burning flames, before readying them at him. The three battle Angels then spurred their wings, lifting off the ground, before surging toward him with lightning speed. Alisson returned in kind, tensing his muscles to the max, signaling to Firo to use everything she had. With a flash, he manifested his ears and tails, and then pushed off the ground with all his strength.

  He shot forward with explosive speed.

  He collided with the head Angel, and sparks flew off their impenetrable armor. Alisson slid past across the ground, using his sword to halt his momentum before turning and launching forward again.

  With Firo’s strength and speed, he could bridge this gap in circumstance. The Angels turned and intercepted, flying in tandem with his speed on the ground. The four fighters weaved in an out, Alisson clashing his blade against their spears and armors alike with loud shrieks and sparks of metal. He got a lucky hit on one, and sent them rolling limply across the ground.

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  He evaded another, before flipping back, pointing his blade at the last Angel, readying a burst of attack magic. As the Angel shot toward him, he unleashed a red needle of mana from the tip of his blade,

  “Pictunee!”

  The shot connected center mass, and the Angel flew into the ground harmlessly by Alisson side, their body sliding across the smooth arena floor.

  The last Angel had taken a circular path, and flew in from his backside. Alisson sidestepped, and stabbed directly into its chest. With the Angel’s momentum, and Firo’s strength, Alisson’s blade pierced cleanly through the front plate of the Angel’s armor. Alisson stepped aside, throwing the Angel’s body across the floor.

  “So much for an execution.” Alisson spat, glancing at the room, seeking means of escape.

  As he did, the upper rafters of the large arena, opened, the walls slid open; and revealed dozens of similar Angels as the ones he had just fought. They all materialized burning spears, before spurring their wings, and charging at Alisson from above.

  Alisson clicked his tongue, and braced himself. There must’ve been a hundred of them.

  He weaved and dodged; like a rock beset by a current from every direction, the Angels seemed to flow perfectly around Alisson because of his evasive movements. He fought back as best he could, managing to score a kill here and there, but there wasn’t any use.

  Alisson took a hit to his chest by one of the Angels charging into him with their body, and he was sent across the arena, barely managing to keep himself upright, as he now stared down a swarm of charging sentinels.

  The closest one thrust their spear at him.

  Before he could react, a blur entered his peripheral vision, falling from above. With a shriek of metal, the Angel was parried, and sent flying into a wall where it broke into pieces.

  Alisson could barely believe what was now in front of him.

  Celis turned back to him, flashing a smirk. She flourished both her stilettoes, her twin tails wrapping around his own and pulling him up as he got to his feet.

  Alisson gave a glance at her eyes. They were filled with life. This was Celis. There was no doubt in his mind. She must’ve broken free of captivity once she had been cured, and realized what was happening to Alisson.

  They wordlessly charged forward, intent on slaughtering the Angels.

  The Angel’s advantage in numbers meant nothing when the two of them worked together. Angels were sent flying into on another, and their cohesion completely broke down. Five were left before long.

  Alisson threw Celis forward toward one, her estoc slamming through the Angel with such force that the mass of armor fell to pieces passed her. With a sheathing of her estoc, the four blades, her stilettoes and baselards, all detonated, releasing their imbued explosions, and with them, four Angels were turned into rubble.

  “Well done.” He heard Michaela’s voice echo from above.

  The room suddenly brightened as the walls became translucent. Alisson saw through them, to see hordes of cheering Angels, who had apparently spectated the fight.

  He glanced at Celis, and she bashfully rubbed her head, though it was clear she was putting on an act, and could barely contain herself, as she fidgeted unsteadily.

  “This was all just a setup made for you and I…” She muttered, trying to act nonchalantly, but Alisson saw immediately how tears started to well in her eyes.

  Before she could speak further, Alisson moved closer and embraced her tightly, his own eyes beginning to tear up.

  The two didn’t exchange anymore words after that; they simply sat in the empty arena, hugging each other, crying into one another. This was despite the crowd of Angel onlookers, but the two of them didn’t care to be embarrassed in that moment.

  A white sphere descended from above. Michaela.

  “I suppose I have a lot of explaining to do. Come.”

  ***