Defeat this person to win back their kin, Jibril?
These words entered the ears of the many Flügel, and their expressions changed to varying degrees.
"Then we have no choice."
In barely an instant, bloodlust and brutality surfaced on the faces of these slaughtering angels, whose beauty was otherwise beyond words.
Just as not everyone on a white horse is a prince, not everyone with wings is a cute little angel.
No, that's not quite right either.
The actions of the Flügel could indeed be called angelic.
They were just Old Testament angels.
In a flash, the Flügel reached a consensus.
The Flügel were a terrifying race.
As the kin of the God of War, they were evaluated by the seventh-ranked Elves as "walking nuclear bombs."
When they forcibly drained a massive amount of spirits from the atmosphere—sucking in even the light itself—and compressed it into a "spear," they could unleash a Heaven's Strike with power no weaker than a large-yield nuclear weapon, without any need for complex formulas or manipulation.
And the only price they had to pay was regressing into the form of a child due to the loss of spirits.
However, in this world teeming with overpowered freaks, being able to cause damage on par with a large-yield nuke was practically the standard, even the baseline, for the higher-ranked races.
A Flügel, whose full-power strike was equivalent to a nuclear weapon, was actually quite weak when facing the even higher-ranked races.
But even so, they frequently took the heads of Gigants, Phantasma, and even the Dragonia.
The reason was simple: they excelled at group combat.
In group combat, the Flügel could sweep across an entire warzone. Instances of them ganging up to kill a Dragonia or Phantasma were not uncommon, to say nothing of the Dwarves and Elves...
They had even joined forces to kill a god!
Just like that time, we'll take this one's head, just as we took the head of that other god.
This was the current thought process of the Flügel.
What you desire, taking it by killing is no different from being gifted it. As long as they killed him, they could rescue their sister.
At this moment, the gaze of the First Unit, who had always seemed like a comedian, turned unprecedentedly cold.
It was like the frigid glint refracting off countless shattered blades.
No, it would be more accurate to say that this was her true form.
Before Jibril was born, she had always been a cold killing machine.
The real reason she was so fond of Jibril, even acting like a fool in front of her, was actually rooted in her absolute loyalty to the God of War.
Lord Artosh loves Little Jibril → She is a special individual → Little Jibril's words and deeds contain Lord Artosh's divine will.
Therefore, she desperately wanted to get close to Little Jibril, but didn't know how, so she could only resort to the stupidest method possible.
Now that Jibril, the vessel of that divine will, was in danger, she would once again reveal her true nature.
"All units, form up."
In an instant, the First Unit, having reverted to her state as a weapon of war, issued her commands.
"Raphael, lead Wings One through Six. Lock down the space and restrict the target's—the Unknown God's—movements with fire support!"
"Sariel, lead Wings Seven through Twelve into standby for skirmish operations!"
"Wings Thirteen through Eighteen, prepare for frontal assault!"
The girl (?) who was the strongest of the Flügel ordered the deathblow against a certain person.
Almost the instant she gave the command, the surrounding space was—
Amorphous, wavering spears appeared in the hands of the Flügel.
Without any hesitation, spear after spear was hurled by the Flügel of Wings Thirteen through Eighteen.
The blue spears of light churned the atmosphere for tens of kilometers. Terrifying shockwaves formed a violent storm, sweeping down from the clouds in an instant, spanning the heavens and the earth.
A dazzling blue light exploded in the sky, occupying a vast swath of it and surging in all directions. The sound of the explosion resounded through the firmament like a dragon's roar.
A vast number of spirits died from the excessive drain, turning into pale blue Spirit Remnants, which caused space itself to appear warped and blurry.
"BOOM—!!!"
Cascading sonic booms spread out madly, as if ten thousand giant dragons were roaring at once.
One could imagine that if such a strike were to land, it would instantly vaporize the planet's crust.
This combined strike from the Flügel would trigger a small-scale tectonic tsunami, sending superheated earth and sand, thousands of degrees hot, instantly into the stratosphere...
An attack like this was undoubtedly terrifying to the extreme.
One could imagine that if such an attack landed on a single target, they would surely be crushed into dust.
But—
Li Zihan's face was a mask of calm.
The power of the united Flügel's attack was clearly far greater than a single Heaven's Strike. One could say this single blow was even more ridiculous than a hydrogen bomb.
And to take a hydrogen bomb without any preparation...
Emmm, the last one to do that was a certain illiterate sun god.
That one, probably out of curiosity, had approached the core of a hydrogen bomb without any defenses up, and had quite unceremoniously lost his first life.
The youth, who had royally screwed over that Heretical God "Dog-Dad" in the same way back then, stared at the incoming attack—an attack whose core intensity was unknown, but would most likely result in instant death if one did nothing—and chose not to move an inch.
The scene was enough to make even the worldly-wise Flügel reveal looks of utter astonishment.
Someone was actually going to block the Flügel's attack without any defense?
Was this guy insane?
In the next moment, the Flügel learned the reason why.
The force that was sufficient to crack the earth and permanently alter the terrain upon landing simply vanished.
Space had split open.
Like a vicious beast opening its savage maw, a formless rift manifested in the middle of space and swallowed the combined attack of the Flügel, rendering it all into nothingness.
A chilling sensation crept into the hearts of the Flügel.
They were sure they had already sealed the space.
They had used the space-sealing formula written by the God of War, Artosh, himself.
Something utterly absurd had happened.
The space sealed by the God of War Artosh's own formula had been torn asunder, and the enemy had even been able to effortlessly absorb their power.
An unprecedented sense of crisis rose in the hearts of the Flügel.
If their own attack had been seized by him, then his next move would be to...
"Group up, defend!"
In the next instant, the attack stolen from the Flügel converged into a single point, becoming a spear of light that plummeted down.
Carrying an aura of destruction, light and heat descended from the heavens. Extreme high temperatures and endless light arrived in the mortal world in a flash.