Azril brought Origami Tobiichi to the War God's palace.
This was the highest point of Avant Heim.
Standing here, one could not only overlook the entire city of the Flügel, but also take in the scenery thousands of miles away.
And the moment they arrived, Origami could immediately feel that the gaze that had been watching her became even more intense.
"Father, I apologize for the sudden disturbance."
Azril knelt on one knee, lowering her head respectfully.
However, before she could state her purpose, the massive doors leading into the palace opened on their own.
Azril was stunned, but quickly realized something. A strange light appeared in her eyes as she glanced at Origami.
The War God Artosh... was actually willing to meet this person of his own accord?
It seemed that what Origami had claimed was indeed true.
"Then, until we meet again."
Origami stepped forward and entered the palace, leaving Azril behind.
This was a conversation between her and the War God.
There was no need for Azril to be involved.
Soon, as she walked to the end of the grand hall, that oppressive feeling of being watched grew even stronger.
She looked up toward the towering staircase, where atop the golden throne sat a tall and imposing figure. Yet, unlike Azril, Origami showed no signs of humility or fear—her gaze met his calmly, neither servile nor arrogant.
The man on the throne, though not as towering as the Giant race, was still over twice the height of an average human.
He had a muscular build, a pair of piercing golden eyes, and a black beard. His body radiated strength.
But the most striking feature was the eighteen pairs of wings on his back—currently folded and draped like a majestic feathered cloak. Anyone could easily imagine the sheer grandeur of those wings when fully unfurled.
Even without deliberately exerting pressure, the innate aura of power and majesty within him seemed to seep into one's very bones. Simply sitting there, he could make others feel an uncontrollable urge to kneel and tremble.
"A special Flügel I created, is it?"
War God Artosh voice carried no anger over the deception. On the contrary, it contained a faint trace of amusement. "You've successfully deceived them. That should've been enough for you. So why come before me?"
"If I had merely used your name to deceive your kin and tried to leave without seeing you," Origami replied calmly, "I doubt I'd be able to walk out of this floating city."
"Besides, you've had your eyes on me since I first arrived, haven't you?"
"You're clever," Artosh acknowledged with an unreadable expression. "But you still don't understand the God races."
Origami slightly furrowed her brows.
But soon, she understood the reason behind Artosh words.
In this world, all deities were born from divine essence, and each divine essence was tied to a specific concept.
Artosh divine essence was born from the concept of [The Strongest], and thus, he was innately the strongest—invincible in this world.
If he truly desired victory in the God Wars, neither the Forest Elves nor the Dwarf races' deities would be his match. Even the Dragonkin and Phantasma races would be helpless before him.
And yet, he remained eternally seated upon his throne, never participating in any of the wars between gods and races.
He had created the Flügel merely as symbolic participants in the wars—to remind the world of his presence, and to keep every race on edge.
What he longed for… was a worthy opponent.
Someone who would, in the cruelty of war, rise with the courage to challenge him, match him, or even surpass him.
That was the only thing he cared about.
Everything else… was meaningless.
"That you used my name to deceive the Flügel—frankly, I don't care," Artosh said indifferently. "The only reason I've taken an interest in you… is because you are an anomaly. Something that has never appeared in all these tens of thousands of years of Great War."
He slightly shifted his posture. His previously casual demeanor turned more serious.
His golden eyes stared at the girl before him. A faint smile appeared on his majestic face.
"You are a being I've never seen before. Just what exactly are you?" Artosh voice now carried a tinge of curiosity and anticipation. "Could it be that, somewhere beyond my knowledge, a new God race was born—and created an entirely new species?"
"No. I am not a member of a new race. And as far as I know, no new God races have been born."
Origami took a deep breath and revealed the identity she had fabricated:
"I am the incarnation of the Spirit race's will."
"Hmph..."
The War God let out a long nasal sound. It was unclear whether it signified surprise or disappointment. "I see. It's beyond common logic, but perhaps this is the only explanation that makes sense."
Any other race or God in this world, upon learning that the Elves had an incarnation of their will, would have reacted with excitement—just like Jibril had.
But Artosh displayed no such excitement.
Because in his eyes, Origami power was like that of an ant—utterly insignificant.
If she lacked the qualifications to challenge him, then no matter how special her identity was, she was still just a weakling.
And the War God, embodiment of strength, had no interest in wasting time on the weak.
Behind her, the massive doors creaked open once more.
A clear signal for her to leave.
"In truth, it wasn't a lie when I said I had something important to report to you."
Just as Artosh lost interest and prepared to dismiss her, Origami continued to speak:
"As the incarnation of the Spirit race's will, I was born with a mission."
"Oh?"
"To end the God War."
Upon hearing those four words, a subtle change came over Artosh expression. His interest was rekindled.
This time his attitude was more serious than before.
Origami felt an almost tangible pressure descend upon her, nearly forcing her to her knees.
But she gritted her teeth and stubbornly held her ground—she didn't even bow her head. Her eyes remained locked with his.
"Do you truly understand the weight behind the words 'end the God War'?" Artosh asked.
"I understand it fully."
"So, you intend to defeat every race and god involved in the war? Including me?"
"That is exactly what I intend."
"Excellent..."
Looking at the girl who dared to stand before him, whose calm surface concealed a deep obsession and madness, the War God broke into a wide grin.
A deep, booming laugh erupted from his chest—resounding and joyful—as though he had finally found what he had been waiting for.
"Spirit... the source of life, the foundation of the world. If you truly are their representative, then I believe your words are not empty." Artosh nodded in satisfaction. "I look forward to the day when we cross swords."
"I promise, that day will come," Origami replied flatly. "However, if you're willing to offer some help, that day might come sooner."
"Speak freely."
"I need to truly integrate with the Flügel—and gain command authority."
Origami spoke seriously.
"Please allow me to join the Eighteen-Winged Council."