"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves."
— William Shakespeare
*****
|ROLAND|
The ground trembles beneath our feet as steel clashes endlessly and magic tears through the battlefield like raging storms. The sky burns with streaks of light and shadow colliding in violent bursts, scattering fragments that fall like dying stars. The air is thick with blood, ash, and desperation.
"Retreat!" I shout at the top of my lungs as I drive Durandal through a charging demon, its body collapsing before me. "Fall back! The Demon King's army has us surrounded—we can't win this!"
My voice barely cuts through the chaos. Around me, soldiers struggle to hold a formation that no longer exists, their lines breaking under the overwhelming numbers of the enemy.
"To retreat now means death for the ones behind us," Lionheart says as he steps into my flank, his blade intercepting an incoming strike aimed at my blind side. Sparks burst from the clash as flames begin to gather around his weapon. "So we carve a path and drag them out ourselves."
I move beside him without hesitation, our backs aligned as we cut through the advancing demons. "Then we don't stop moving."
We have fought together long enough that words are no longer needed. Every motion flows naturally—his offense creates openings, my strikes expand them, and together we push forward against an army that should have already swallowed us whole.
Across the battlefield, a presence looms.
Even without seeing him clearly, I can feel it—the suffocating pressure that grips the heart and refuses to let go.
Abaddon.
The Demon General of the West.
"…So he's here," I mutter, tightening my grip on Durandal.
Lionheart clicks his tongue. "Then we're out of time."
We surge forward with renewed urgency. Every step is met with resistance, every advance paid with blood. A soldier stumbles beside me, and I pull him back just as a demon lunges forward, cutting it down before it can reach him. Another falls. Then another.
I grit my teeth.
Not here. Not today.
"Lionheart," I call as I force space with a sweeping strike, "cover me. I'll break us through."
He immediately shifts his stance, placing himself between me and the incoming tide. "Do it. I won't let anything touch you."
I take a breath, steadying myself as I begin to gather mana. Light forms at my fingertips, faint at first, then growing brighter as I continue the incantation.
"With the blessings of light bestowed by the Gods, grant me thy strength to destroy my foes—"
A demon slips through a gap in Lionheart's guard, its blade aimed straight for me, but he twists his body and takes the hit on his shoulder instead before burning the attacker to ash with a burst of flame.
"Anytime now!" he shouts.
"Limit Breaker!"
Power erupts within me.
It surges violently through my veins, far beyond what my body was meant to handle. A radiant aura bursts forth, visible even to the naked eye as light engulfs me entirely. The ground beneath my feet cracks from the pressure.
Everything sharpens. Every movement becomes clear.
I step forward.
And the battlefield parts.
With a single swing, multiple demons are cut down. With another, a wave of light tears through the enemy line, carving a path straight ahead.
"Move!" I shout. "All units—fall back through the opening!"
The hesitation lasts only a moment before our forces surge forward, clinging to the path we created.
Lionheart lets out a short laugh despite the situation as flames begin to coil around his blade. "Then I'll make sure it stays open."
He raises his sword and begins his own chant. "Oh, God of the Sun, Amaterasu, grant me thy strength of your flames—Blazing Sword!"
Fire erupts, swallowing everything in front of him. His strike follows mine, turning the path into a blazing corridor that no demon dares to cross.
We continue advancing together, holding the line as our army escapes. I can feel the strain building in my body with every passing second.
This is my third use today.
Ten minutes at most.
One more—and I won't survive the recoil.
"Status?" Lionheart asks as he cuts down another demon.
"Running out of time," I reply. "We finish this and we leave."
He grins, as reckless as ever. "Good. I was getting tired anyway."
Behind us, the last of our soldiers finally break free from the encirclement.
Ahead of us, the pressure intensifies.
Abaddon has begun to move.
Even that slight shift sends a ripple across the battlefield, as if the world itself recoils from his presence.
"…We're leaving," Lionheart says, his tone turning serious.
For once, I don't argue.
We begin our retreat, step by step, refusing to turn our backs until we have created enough distance. Only then do we break into a full withdrawal, leaving the battlefield behind us.
We do not stop until we reach the forest beyond the battlefield. The sounds of war slowly fade, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the distant flow of water.
We survived.
Barely.
We count our losses. Too many names are missing. Too many voices are gone.
Lionheart places a hand on my shoulder, his usual grin weaker but still there. "We got them out. That's what matters."
I nod, even if the weight in my chest refuses to lighten.
We part ways soon after, his forces returning to Camelot while mine head back toward Enthopia. Different paths, same war.
I choose not to return to the capital just yet.
Instead, I remain at the boundary. If the demons decide to pursue, someone has to be here to stop them.
I send my men ahead with orders to report our retreat and begin walking alone through the forest.
The silence feels unnatural after the chaos of battle.
Eventually, I come across a river cutting through the trees. Its surface is clear, reflecting the blue sky above as if the war never existed.
"…Must be nice," I mutter.
I remove my armor piece by piece, setting it down near the riverside. Each part is damaged beyond use—cracked, dented, or broken entirely.
"This is useless now," I say quietly, though my hand lingers on it for a moment longer before letting go.
I kneel by the river, drinking from it before washing away the blood covering my body. The cold water helps ease the fatigue, even if it does nothing for the deeper wounds.
When I'm done, I sit beneath a large tree and lean back against it, letting out a long breath.
For the first time since the battle began, there is silence.
No screams. No fire. No death.
Just the wind… and the sky.
I tilt my head back, staring at the endless blue above.
"…When will it end?"
There is no answer.
Still, I close my eyes and let myself imagine a world where everything is as peaceful as this moment. A world where no one has to fight, where no one has to die.
*****
|AZRAEL|
I sighed as I walked along the riverside, the sensation of bare earth beneath my feet still unfamiliar. The wind brushed gently against my skin, carrying with it the scent of water and trees, a quiet contrast to the divine realm I once stood in. So this is the mortal realm. To think that I would be sent here so suddenly, without even the slightest preparation.
I still cannot comprehend what Brother Michael wants me to do. He simply appeared before me and declared that I would be sent to Midgard as a mortal—to learn how to live and interact with humans by becoming one myself. I do not dislike mortals, but to cast aside my divinity and live as one of them for an extended time… I am not certain I can endure such a thing. I do not even understand the norms of this world, nor how they live their daily lives.
I was tending to my duties in Valhalla, and before I knew it, I was already here—bound to a human body, with only ten percent of my power remaining. Even now, I do not know how I am meant to live like this. And this hunger… it gnaws at me endlessly, as if my body will collapse at any moment if I do not do something about it soon.
If only I knew someone here. Why must I be the only one sent? If Sister Jophiel or Brother Raphael were here, this would have been far easier to bear. I ran a hand through my hair out of frustration as I continued walking along the river, searching for something—anything—I could eat. I am unfamiliar with which fruits in this realm are safe to consume, yet I have no choice. I must find something before this body gives in.
As I continued forward, something caught my attention. A worn set of armor lay on the ground, its surface chipped, cracked, and stained with dried blood. It likely belonged to a soldier who had just come from battle. I stepped closer, curiosity taking over despite my current situation, and raised my hand.
"Appraisal."
A faint light passed over the armor, revealing its information.
"Roland…?" I murmured softly. "Just who is this person… leaving his belongings behind so carelessly?" There was a slight hint of annoyance in my tone as I picked up the damaged armor. Despite its condition, it still held traces of strength and craftsmanship.
After a brief pause, I activated another skill. "Reforge."
Light enveloped the armor, slowly mending its fractures and restoring its structure. The broken plates reshaped themselves, the cracks sealing as if time itself had reversed for a moment. When the light faded, the armor was once again usable.
"…Now then," I muttered as I glanced around, searching for its owner. It did not take long before I noticed a man resting beneath a nearby tree, his body showing faint signs of recent battle.
Carrying the armor, I approached him. There was something about him that felt… unusual. To confirm my suspicion, I used my skill once more.
"Appraisal."
Roland. Seventeen. Hero of Light.
My expression stiffened slightly as I read through the information. So this is the one Father chose…? This human…? I expected someone far more imposing, yet he looked completely ordinary.
I set the armor down beside him before lightly nudging his foot. "Wake up." He did not respond. I narrowed my eyes slightly, irritation surfacing. "You dare defile this land with such careless rubbish!?" I muttered, giving his foot a firmer nudge. He remained unmoved, as if completely unbothered by the world around him.
"…Very well."
I stepped back and raised my hand as faint sparks of lightning gathered at my fingertips. If a simple approach would not work, then I would simply force him awake.
"Thunder spirits, shock my enemy with your lightning, and strike with your dazzling current."
"Electric Shock!"
A magic circle formed briefly before releasing a bolt of lightning that struck him directly.
"Grah—what was that?!" he exclaimed as he jolted upright, clearly startled, looking around before his gaze landed on me. "…You." His eyes scanned me briefly before he added, "…That outfit of yours is rather strange."
I froze for a moment, my expression slowly turning colder.
"…You dare call my divine vestments strange?!"
A flicker of irritation rose within me as I began to gather mana once more. "Then you shall learn respect!" Flames began to form at my fingertips as I started to chant. "Burn thee to cinders, everything shall be reduced to ashes, with the flames of thy spirit, I cast thee—"
My voice faltered.
A sharp pain twisted in my stomach, cutting off my concentration and draining the strength from my body before I could complete the spell. This body… the hunger… I had completely forgotten about it.
My vision blurred as my strength gave out. "…What a troublesome body…" I muttered weakly before everything went dark.
***
After some time, I awoke to a pleasant scent drifting through the air. My eyes slowly opened as I searched for its source, still slightly disoriented. The sky had shifted into warm hues of orange and gold, signaling the coming of dusk.
And there he was.
The human.
He was sitting near a small fire, grilling fish with a calm expression, as if nothing had happened earlier. The aroma was… undeniably enticing.
I disliked him, yet if I did not set aside my pride, I would collapse once more. I slowly approached, trying to maintain my composure despite the hunger.
Before I could say anything, he looked at me and smiled.
"I see you're awake," he said. "I caught some fish. Eat before you collapse again."
He handed one to me without hesitation.
I accepted it and sat beside him. As an angel, I felt a slight hesitation, but survival came first. I took a bite.
My eyes widened slightly.
"…It is… good."
"Right?" he said with a light laugh. "You can have more if you want."
We continued eating in silence as the sun slowly began to set, the sky painted in colors I had never truly paid attention to before. The atmosphere was calm… peaceful in a way I had not experienced for a long time.
After a while, he spoke again. "So, what are you doing in a place like this? And why are you alone?"
I kept my gaze on the horizon as I answered. "I was sent here by my brother. He wants me to learn how to live among mortals."
He chuckled softly. "You talk like you're not human."
"I am not."
He looked at me, confused. "…Then what are you?"
I stood before him and faced him directly, deciding there was no reason to hide it any longer.
"I who resides in thy sky, the glorious light, once again let me be divine—
Manifest now! I, Azrael, call forth thee—my strength of divinity!
Wings of the Archangel of Death!"
Light surged behind me as radiant wings spread outward, illuminating the surroundings, while divine armaments formed around my arms, forged from condensed divinity.
***
End of Chapter 1