"I only came to grab a batch of Elves and Dwarves to test the effects of the Power of Corrosion, but I never expected to catch a little Jibril as well."
In what appeared to be a temporarily constructed room, the golden-eyed youth sat on a chair, remarking with a sense of wonder.
Although he had long known that the God of War, Artosh, would send someone to find him, Li Zihan hadn't expected to run into a Flügel the moment he stepped out.
And it was Jibril, of all people—the one who pairs so well with mushrooms.
It was truly amusing how, despite being hopelessly outmatched, she didn't surrender but instead counterattacked like a charging bull with no sense of its own limits.
The youth, whose designation on the Moon was likely something along the lines of "Civilization Ender," "Grand-level Final Apparatus," or "Walking Calamity," shrugged his shoulders.
In this world, aside from the God of War who casually strung planets together like candied hawthorns and got a sudden power-up whenever his enemies grew stronger, there was truly no one he feared.
A gaze filled with fury and murderous intent shot towards him.
It naturally belonged to a certain Flügel who had been knocked unconscious with a single hand-chop and was now tied up.
At this very moment, this angel of slaughter, who had actively tried to kill Li Zihan, was tightly bound, limb from limb, by an item manifested through the power of the Herrscher of Reason.
She was suspended in mid-air in a spread-eagled position, biting her lip and glaring with a murderous look at the man who had spoken so insolently of the God of War.
"Damn it... I was careless..."
While the absurdly powerful individual used the Feathers of Passage to command the Dwarves and Elves under his control to continuously spread the Power of Corrosion among their kin, he also had his new followers search for the whereabouts of the Ex-Machina.
"Careless or not, you talk as if you could have beaten me if you weren't."
Then, he turned his head and spoke mercilessly to the Flügel maiden.
"You don't even have the ability to break free from the Chains of Heaven."
"Nngh—!"
Little Jibril's gaze sharpened, and her toned, powerful limbs, like those of a pantheress, began to tense.
"...I'll snap this thing in an instant..."
With those words, Jibril forcefully contracted her limbs, which were filled with spirit particles. A terrifying strength, completely at odds with her delicate appearance, erupted, causing even the Chains of Heaven to groan as if under immense strain.
While the Chains of Heaven were indeed a high-grade armament, they were an Anti-Divine Noble Phantasm. Against an enemy without Divinity, they were little more than a sturdy set of iron chains.
As everyone knows, Divinity is a debuff.
Jibril possessed no such trait as Divinity, and her strength was comparable to a Blood Break individual among the Werebeasts. If she added the power of spirit particles on top of that, breaking free would not be difficult at all.
Of course, that was assuming a certain someone didn't interfere.
Swish—!
The very instant Jibril began to struggle in earnest, a wind known as Ideal Fluid blew across the surface of the Flügel's body.
Ideal Fluid: an incompressible, non-viscous substance.
Obviously, once something like this appeared...
Emmm, in Chinese martial arts, there is a technique called xie li, or "redirecting force." The effect of Ideal Fluid was essentially the ultimate form of that art.
The Flügel maiden, suspended upside down in the air, unleashed the full power of her body, yet she couldn't break free from the Chains of Heaven at all. Her graceful body wriggled like a caterpillar, looking utterly ridiculous.
Clearly, all of her divine power had been completely nullified.
A certain someone very naturally took out a camera and recorded the comical scene.
After struggling to the point of exhaustion, Jibril, still unable to escape her bonds, panted heavily. Without any external support, she clearly could not break the Chains of Heaven.
"You win. You now have the right to cut off my head as your trophy."
Little Jibril, hailing from a race that enjoyed collecting heads, glared viciously at the being who had displayed the combat power of a God-Spirit. Having confirmed her defeat and seeing no chance of a comeback, she closed her eyes, ready to meet her end with dignity.
As weapons of the God of War, every Flügel was prepared to be killed one day. Jibril naturally did not fear death.
"Hey, hey, hey, you guys are essentially just magical formulas applied to feathers. Would you even have a head left after you die?"
The youth, who actually wanted the Flügel maiden to take a message back to Artosh, pursed his lips.
"Besides, if I killed Artosh's favorite kin, I would definitely infuriate him. That would be very troublesome."
It was a well-known fact that the gods of this world were, to some extent, troubled by their own concepts.
And because this world had no psychologists to help them sort through their issues, their illnesses were quite severe.
The oldest God-Spirit—the creator of the Ex-Machina, the God of Doubt—questioned all abstract concepts in the world, including his own "existence."
Unable to figure it out, he simply pierced his own Divine Core and put himself to sleep.
The God of War, on the other hand, had fallen into a state of confusion because he was eternally the strongest, and he wanted to know what "the strongest" truly meant.
"Strongest" is a concept that can only be felt by the defeated.
Therefore, he, who could slam any other god into the ground at any time, longed for someone to appear who could make him fight with all his might, so he could taste defeat.
But in reality, no being in this world could give him that taste of defeat. One could even say that because he was too strong, no one even dared to challenge him.
In Artosh's social circle, the only character who dared to draw a sword against him was Jibril, who was a little off-kilter, likely due to her congenital imperfection.
If Jibril were to suddenly die, that being who could be called the strongest of gods in combat, who could even be called invincible, would very likely fly into a rage.
"Mama, though it's not like I wouldn't be able to put up a fight even then," the youth, who had a ridiculously large number of tricks up his sleeve, said with a smile.
He wasn't afraid of fighting the God of War.
In fact, one could even say that once his Law twisted reality into his domain, everything would develop towards the outcome of "Li Zihan's victory."
However, that was something that could only be done after that guy had been weakened to his most vulnerable state.
The youth knew very well that the God of War at his peak could definitely tear his Mind-scape World apart.
If his Mind-scape World was torn apart, then the predetermined outcome would naturally become void as it would lose its vessel.
This guy... he really is my master's enemy!!
Jibril, now completely understanding the true identity of this individual, wore an even grimmer expression.
He was the god from another dimension who had stirred her master's will to fight!
"All gods who provoke my master are nailed to the highest peak without exception. You will be no different."
"Who knows about that."
The youth, who had already sensed that Jibril had notified her sisters, narrowed his eyes.
Within his field of vision, a large number of Flügel were flying towards their location.