"BOOM————————!!!!"
The atmosphere shrieked under the strain of the Flügel's combined attack.
As if it were the dawn of creation, the spear of light descended upon the earth.
A devastating shockwave radiated outward from the pillar of light. The very ground, which had borne all of creation, began to collapse. Geological structures, formed over eons, were utterly destroyed.
Dust billowed, followed by scattering rubble, then boulders were flung skyward. Even the hard bedrock, buried deep beneath the surface, was launched into the heavens.
"BOOM————!!!!"
The rocks, having lost their kinetic energy, succumbed to gravity and plummeted back down, smashing into the earth like meteorites, burying everything within a ten-kilometer radius.
The horrific tremors continued for a long time, completely remodeling the surrounding terrain.
"Should I have shouted 'Planet Befall'?"
The youth, who inexplicably felt the scene resembled a small asteroid impact, stood unscathed in the center of the ruins, making flippant remarks.
"Cough, cough—"
From amidst the wreckage came the coughing of the Flügel leader.
In the next moment, the deeply sunken earth exploded upward as pair after pair of wings unfurled.
One by one, the Flügel climbed out from the defensive formations that their own attack had blasted into the ground, their faces grim.
They had just been hit with the most severe blow they had suffered in ten thousand years.
And what's more, they had been the ones to deal it.
"You will pay the price for what you have done."
Raphael, the single-winged angel, warned the unharmed youth in a cold voice that seemed to be roared from the depths of her throat.
Unit Four, Raphael, was from the same batch as Azriel, an elder of many millennia.
Compared to Azriel, Raphael was more of a mature, calm, big-sister figure and held more prestige among the Flügel. In their hearts, they were more inclined to recognize her as their battle commander.
As Unit Four, her power was more than a little lacking compared to Azriel's, largely due to the God of War's creative philosophy and her own injuries. She was more of an intelligence-type Flügel, a strategist skilled in command and deployment—a fact that was magnified during the Flügel's God-Slaying Campaign.
The broken halo above Raphael's head had a story.
During the God-Slaying Campaign, Azriel used Raphael as a shield, unleashing a full-power "Heaven's Strike" that pierced both Raphael and the god's Divine Core. As a result, Raphael suffered a grievous wound that even her master's divine protection could not heal, losing half her power (one wing) and an eye, while her halo was shattered in half.
She had always been dissatisfied with how the once-ruthless Azriel constantly acted like a fool in front of Jibril.
She had even once felt a moment of joy at the prospect of fighting alongside a restored, cold-blooded Azriel.
However, it now seemed that joy had been premature.
Raphael looked at the youth who had effortlessly torn through the space-sealing formula written by the God of War, Artosh, and her eyes held an unprecedented killing intent.
He...
He shattered our master's spatial lock.
"Don't wear such an ugly expression, my dear girls."
The youth, whose compassion for beauties had plummeted after sealing his Origin, spoke a simple truth to the Flügel.
"Artosh is a god who specializes in the domain of combat. He isn't particularly skilled with spatial matters. Tearing apart a spatial lock he wrote has never been that difficult."
"No, that's not the right way to put it. Aside from combat, Artosh has absolutely nothing else worth showing off."
These words, falling upon the ears of the Flügel who worshipped Artosh, were like needles stabbing into their hearts.
"Kill him."
With almost no hesitation, someone among the Flügel shouted the words.
But did such an act truly have any meaning?
The Flügel, who had a vague idea of who was standing before them, no longer had the heart to ponder such things.
—War is mutual slaughter.
Competition, conflict, killing and being killed—both sides wager their lives and deaths to temper their souls and their very existence.
Since they had chosen war, they were naturally prepared to be killed.
"All units, Heaven's Strike!"
The First Unit, understanding that they had no hope of contending with this enemy unless they went all-out, issued the command to the entire force.
Against an enemy on the same level as the End Dragon, they had no chance of victory except to fight to the death.
There were approximately twelve hundred Flügel, each capable of unleashing a Heaven's Strike comparable to a large-yield nuclear bomb.
Imagine the scene of twelve hundred nuclear bombs detonating at once.
Hundreds upon thousands of blue pillars of light broke the sound barrier as they fell from the sky.
The torrent of hyper-condensed spirit energy erupted towards the mortal enemy of their god. There was no need to aim at anyone specific, because there was no need to aim at all. The apostles of the God of War unleashed their power without restraint, like avatars of the apocalypse.
"BOOM————————!!!!"
Like the very breath of a star, the torrent from the Flügel seemed poised to shatter every continent.
One could imagine that once this blow fully landed, the earth would be utterly pulverized, kicking up a cloud of dust that would cover the sky. Everything, save for the highest-ranked races, would be delivered into the embrace of death.
But faced with such an attack, the targeted youth remained completely calm.
The gap between the strong and the weak was not something that could be overcome by a desperate, all-or-nothing gamble.
This fact was magnified to an infinite degree when dealing with a being skilled in the use of time and space.
"You really are a troublesome bunch."
The youth, who had already seized control of the flow of time in the surrounding area, looked at the ultimate power of the Flügel—an attack that would mean instant death even for a God-Spirit if it landed—and wore a slightly troubled expression.
Then, he smiled.
After a sword lops off a head, it is returned to its sheath.
After a bullet pierces its prey, it falls to the ground.
That is the result.
So, let's connect this present moment to that result.
He called upon a certain ability of his that had been upgraded many times.
"King Crimson."
Time began to leap.
Before the shocked eyes of the Flügel, everything around them was replaced by barren wasteland.
And they, too, had lost their power.
Just now...
What in the world happened?
This question arose in the hearts of all the Flügel.
Unaware that the effect of time-erasure renders all actions within the erased period meaningless, they fell into an unprecedented state of confusion.
But—
Soon, they had no time to be bewildered.
The reason was simple: the youth who had been targeted by twelve hundred Heaven's Strikes was standing before them, completely unharmed.
In the next moment—
Space was completely sealed.
No, it wasn't that simple.
Space was folding. The entire surrounding area was folding in on itself, fusing together.
This space had become a separate, small world!
The First Rated Power of the Key of Space—the Thousand-Realmed, Single-Blade—was called Inverted Horizon.
Su had once used this move to fold the World Bubble Kevin was in into a single point and sink it to the bottom of the Sea of Quanta, where energy levels were lowest.
When this ability was used on a complete world, the effect was to peel off a section of it, turning it into a World Bubble.
"Going to try and escape this world?"
The youth, who had easily simulated the abilities of the Herrscher of the Void to create a small World Bubble, chuckled lightly at the trembling Flügel before him.
The Flügel were all silent.
Tearing through space was not a difficult task for the higher-ranked races.
But that only applied to normal space.
This world, which had been forcibly peeled away, was completely abnormal.
If normal space was water, then the space of this world was mercury.
Furthermore—
In this space, all the spirits had been banished.
Just as a magus would fall into dire straits if separated from their mana, the Flügel, who released their various spells by draining the power of spirits, could feel themselves growing weaker.
They had completely lost the ability to fight back.
"It seems you have no intention of running."
The youth, who had first reinforced the strength of the space and then banished the spirits from the air, revealed a smile that, in the eyes of the Flügel, was utterly bloodthirsty.
"In that case, allow me to end this game."
The spirit words of a God-Slayer were uttered from the youth's mouth.
And then—
The sky turned crimson.
No, one could say the entire world had become a sea of red.
The Hellfire of the Condemner.
It was the Authority of apocalyptic flame that Marquis Voban had usurped from the Chinese god of fire, Zhurong.
It called down from the heavens a flame of judgment capable of incinerating even gods, turning the surrounding area into scorched earth with the hellfire of kalpa.
In the hands of Marquis Voban, this Authority had a base combustion diameter of about 20km, capable of covering an entire city at a minimum, and could be stopped at will or left to burn for seven days and seven nights.
It had the power to burn an enemy's battlefield to the ground in a single strike, but it had no applications other than falling from the sky, such as defense. At the same time, its curse power consumption was immense, so it could not be used consecutively in battle, and it had the disadvantage of taking several tens of seconds from activation to impact.
To avoid being caught in its range, it was generally used from a long distance. In a battle against gods or other Campione, it was difficult to use unless one was certain it would be enough to defeat the opponent.
Without a doubt, it was a terrifying Authority, with its only weakness being that it could easily cause friendly fire.
However, for Li Zihan, this so-called weakness did not exist. Because he could control Ideal Fluid, he had no fear of being caught in the crossfire.
Furthermore, Li Zihan's total amount of magical energy was immense. As the highest-grade Final Apparatus of the Moon, Li Zihan's standard mana reserves were over a hundred times greater than Marquis Voban's. According to the principle of "if you have enough power, you can brute-force anything," he could arbitrarily increase the intensity and range of this Authority.
However, to deal with these Flügel, there was no need to increase the intensity.
He would have a huge headache if all the Flügel were killed.
Standing in the center of this small world, protected by Ideal Fluid, the youth called upon his Authority.
Just as described in the Holy Bible, countless flames tore through the sky and fell from the firmament.
The world was completely engulfed in fire.