A beautiful bell rang.
Clear.
Solemn.
It echoed through the heavenly hall like judgment descending from above.
The sound was not loud—but it pierced the heart.
Then the massive doors opened.
And three figures entered.
Feldway. Velzard.
And the empty space where Michael once walked.
Yet the authority Michael once carried had not vanished completely. Its structure lingered. Its systems remained. And Feldway now stood at the center of it all.
With just the two of them stepping forward—Feldway in command, Velzard like a blade of ice at his side—the divine atmosphere that had filled the hall was swept away.
The angels lining the chamber did not move.
They had no will.
But the reborn circle seated at the front felt the weight shift.
This was no longer a council under perfect control.
This was a war council under urgency.
Feldway took his seat at the head of the round table.
Velzard sat beside him, her expression calm, beautiful, and merciless.
"Well then," Feldway said.
"Let's begin."
At his command, Mai rose.
Her evolved power activated instantly.
Above the center of the round table, light unfolded into a three-dimensional projection of the entire Cardinal World.
A miniature globe.
Continents detailed.
Energy concentrations marked.
Strongholds glowing like embers.
"This," Mai said steadily, "is the territory of the Octagram who oppose us."
Points of light flared across the projection.
"There are six."
One by one, she illuminated them:
The frozen north pole — Guy's domain.
The western edge — Dagruel's stronghold.
The central west — Luminas's Holy Empire.
The Great Forest of Jura — ruled by the King of Eterna.
The southeastern Dragon Kingdom — Milim's territory.
The golden continent of El Dorado — Leon's land.
The room darkened around the map, as if the world itself had become a target.
"I would like to hear your opinions," Feldway said calmly. "Where do we strike?"
Though he addressed the room, his eyes only lingered on a few.
Zalario.
Obera.
Velzard.
The rest were pieces.
Useful pieces.
But pieces nonetheless.
Zalario was silent at first, analyzing.
Obera observed without expression.
It was one of the reborn strategists who spoke:
"The attacker has the advantage. We should concentrate our forces and eliminate one stronghold completely."
Feldway nodded slightly.
"Agreed. But which one?"
If they attacked everywhere at once, they would dilute their strength.
If they focused, they could shatter a throne before reinforcements arrived.
But choosing wrong could trap them.
A voice from the circle added carefully:
"There is one location we must avoid as an opening move."
All eyes shifted.
"The Labyrinth."
Ramiris's Labyrinth.
The capital of Eterna lay connected to it.
And inside that shifting maze was a defense designed to punish invaders.
"If we enter first," the strategist continued, "we risk being isolated and surrounded. The defenders will have complete advantage."
Velzard's gaze narrowed.
"That labyrinth blocks perception."
Feldway understood immediately.
Even with angelic-system detection, even with the remnants of Michael's dominion structures, surveillance struggled inside Ramiris's creation.
And within that same labyrinth—
Atem's allies were gathered.
A king who ruled Eterna did not hide in the open.
He positioned his board carefully.
"Then the Labyrinth is last," Feldway decided.
"We strike elsewhere first. Force them to move."
If the defenders holed up, Ramiris would become a problem later.
So they would pull the board apart instead.
Suddenly, Velzard spoke.
"There is no one at the Frost Palace."
Her icy eyes were fixed on Leon's continent.
"There is no sign of consolidated force there."
Feldway studied the map.
"So they have already begun consolidating."
Mai adjusted the projection.
Guy's northern point dimmed.
The remaining five glowed brighter.
"Five locations now hold concentrated power," she said.
The difficulty had increased.
But so had clarity.
The advantage of initiative remained theirs.
They just needed the right first blow.
Zalario leaned forward slightly.
"Feldway-sama. A question."
"Speak."
"The angelic-system Skills. Are we able to identify their current owners?"
The room sharpened.
This mattered.
It mattered to Zalario personally.
And to Obera.
Feldway did not answer immediately.
Instead, he gestured to Mai.
She closed her eyes briefly.
Her Ultimate Enchantment 'World Map' synchronized with the detection grid once ruled by Michael.
Now, without Michael's ego interfering, the system responded differently.
Slower.
But clearer.
"I cannot control them," Mai said. "But I can sense them."
She extended her hand over the map.
Light pulsed.
"I detect 'Judgement King Israfil.'"
Zalario remained expressionless.
"I detect 'Salvation King Azrael.'"
Obera did not react.
"I detect 'Heavenly King Astarte,' 'Glory King Haniel,' and 'Rigor King Jibril.'"
The reborn circle stiffened slightly.
"The 'Domination King Melchizedek' remains active. 'Punishment King Sandalphon' also."
Mai's voice lowered.
"And then… there are the higher angelic Skills. The ones of equal rank."
The air grew heavy.
"Not enough," Feldway murmured.
Velzard's gaze flickered.
"What do you mean?"
Mai answered carefully.
"I cannot detect all of them."
She continued:
"'Charity King Raguel' was recovered earlier. That is accounted for."
No one commented.
"The 'Patience King Gabriel' remains in Velzard-sama's possession."
Velzard remained motionless.
"And yet…"
Mai's brow furrowed.
"I cannot fully locate 'Purity King Metatron.'"
A faint pulse appeared on the map.
Over El Dorado.
Leon's continent.
"And I cannot detect 'Hope King Sariel,' 'Covenant King Uriel,' or 'Knowledge King Raphael.'"
At the mention of Raphael—
Zalario's eyes sharpened slightly.
But Mai continued.
"My detection cannot penetrate Ramiris's Labyrinth."
Feldway leaned back.
"Then assume they are there."
It was logical.
If the system could not see through the labyrinth, then the missing Skills were likely within it.
They did not know the truth:
That Raphael had already been reborn and transformed into Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom—no longer bound to the angelic system at all.
And that Solarys now served Atem of Eterna.
Unaware of this shift, Feldway considered the matter resolved.
"Then it changes nothing," he said.
"Veldora is inside the labyrinth. We will attack there eventually. We can recover what we need at that time."
Velzard nodded slightly.
"Then the first strike?"
Zalario spoke calmly.
"There is one confirmed owner outside the labyrinth."
Mai's light sharpened over El Dorado.
"The holder of 'Purity King Metatron' is here."
Leon's capital.
Silence.
Then Feldway's lips curved faintly.
"Then we begin there."
Vega stepped forward, hunger in his eyes.
"I'll go."
His voice carried raw appetite.
"Leon, demon lord, whatever he is—I'll devour him."
Feldway's gaze turned cold.
"You will not devour him."
Vega paused.
"He may become an asset."
A weapon was more valuable than a corpse.
Vega clicked his tongue.
"Fine. Then I'll crush whoever stands in the way."
There was no objection.
No hesitation.
The board had been set.
The first move chosen.
El Dorado.
Leon.
The holder of Purity King Metatron.
What none of them fully grasped—
What none of them calculated properly—
Was this:
Leon was not fighting alone.
The labyrinth they avoided was not idle.
There was no need to declare war.
This war was not being fought for territory, pride, or revenge.
Its stated purpose was simple:
revive Veldanava.
That was what Feldway chose to call it.
And because of that, a formal declaration would only be a warning.
So the war would begin the way this kind of war always began—
with a surprise attack.
No banners.
No negotiations.
Only a blade to the throat.
Feldway understood that there was no reason to hold back.
But he still had his own preference.
"The goal is to obtain the owner of the 'Purity King Metatron,'" Feldway said, calm and absolute. "It would be nice if we can remove those who interfere. But it would be pointless to cause damage here."
His gaze swept the assembled forces like a judge weighing lives.
"Therefore—leave the fools behind."
He declared it openly:
He would attack using only the strongest.
Even now, with Michael gone, the domination structure remained a core part of their thinking. Feldway still treated it like a weapon worth building strategy around—because the old system's logic still shaped the battlefield.
The dominion techniques were powerful.
But not unconditional.
Their "absolute control" over angelic systems had conditions.
The most basic requirement was simple and brutal:
line of sight.
To dominate a target, the user needed to cross their sight with the opponent.
And beyond that, there were deeper dominion techniques with even worse restrictions.
The Dominion Bullet once loaned to Lieutenant Kondou had only been effective against one target, and even then the success rate was low unless the opponent was caught completely off guard.
The higher method—Regalia Dominion—was more complicated.
Its control capacity changed depending on whether the target was present.
And more importantly:
Its success rate dropped sharply when the opponent was close in rank to the user.
Against an equal, it would fail unless the target had already been heavily damaged.
At minimum, the target needed to have a weaker presence than the user.
That made it a cruel technique:
immense power, difficult execution.
Feldway understood what that meant for their future.
If their plan was to eventually invade Ramiris's Labyrinth and seize Veldora, then they could not waste strength on a messy opening battle.
They needed to add assets without losing assets.
They needed to expand their camp without bleeding their own power.
That was why Feldway insisted on a clean strike.
Fast.
Focused.
Officer-class only.
No distractions.
No baggage.
Who Stays, Who Goes
The forces began separating immediately.
The full armies would prepare in the background.
But the opening attack would be executed by the leadership alone.
Zelanus acknowledged the order without emotion.
His insectar began preparing for war.
The phantom forces did the same.
Zalario's army was coordinated by Dhalis and Nice, moving with disciplined precision.
Obera's situation was different.
Her forces were still deployed in the otherworldly stronghold.
So Obera would return first, then transfer command cleanly to Oma.
No confusion.
No delay.
Only readiness.
The rest of the remaining officers prepared to sortie.
They did not need marching routes.
They did not need supply lines.
Not for this strike.
Because Mai's movement abilities made distance meaningless.
If it was just officers, 'Instantaneous Movement' could deliver them in a single step.
And with Obera present, coordinates could be locked instantly through Presence Detection.
Once one person reached the destination, the others could converge immediately using Spatial Transportation, meeting as if they had never been separated.
That was Feldway's advantage:
Speed that ignored geography.
A blade that appeared at the heart before the body could react.
The decision was made.
The units were assigned.
The armies stayed behind, ready for the full invasion that would follow.
And with that judgment—
the surprise operation launched.
No drumbeat.
No roar.
Just the quiet snap of space folding…
as the strongest pieces vanished from the heavenly hall and moved toward the first target—
the one holding Purity King Metatron—