Aurelian… hehe, are you sure you want to fight me though?" Janus merely smiled, eyes gleaming as he watched the frail blonde man in the priest's robe.
Aurelian stayed quiet, his expression still gentle—almost pitying 'James.'
Boom!
Aurelian's aura erupted, surging to match Janus—perhaps even surpass him.
The black chains lunged forward again, this time moving at the speed of sound, nearly invisible to everyone but Vane and Aurelian.
Vane's eyes widened. Isn't this the ability of that masked man? A cold realization dawned on him. He's mixing mine with the masked man's… and using both perfectly.
Aurelian's body shone with a golden radiance. The glow intensified, forming into a full-body suit of golden armor, covering his frail frame entirely. Then, he moved.
Blindingly fast.
Effortlessly weaving through every chain, dodging each one with perfect precision.
Then—a golden ethereal arm materialized from nothingness, more than two thousand meters large, stretching across the sky. In its grasp was an enormous longsword, nearly twice its size.
Even with its sheer mass, the blade swung with terrifying speed.
Janus simply raised a finger.
A chain, thin as an atom—completely invisible—collided against the gigantic arm.
The golden construct didn't even have the chance to resist. It melted instantly, disintegrating into nothing.
"Aurelian… Do you really think you can hold back strength in front of me?" Janus said, leisurely patting the hem of his overcoat, his tone growing colder.
Aurelian exhaled, his tone still calm but firm. "I am not looking down on you. If I release my Celestial Circle… you will have to as well. The battle will surely destroy the entire Lavenham Empire."
Janus dusted off his overcoat, his smirk growing colder. "Well, what about fighting me in a separate dimension? We could fight freely there."
Aurelian shook his head softly. "Even if I am naive, I am not naive enough to step into a dimension created by you." His pitying gaze narrowed, turning thoughtful.
Janus chuckled. "Actually, there's no need for us to fight at all. It's troublesome for me too."
Aurelian remained silent.
"Hm… maybe, if you leave without hurting the children here, I can imagine sparing you for now…" Aurelian replied, his tone still compassionate—yet utterly emotionless.
"Master—"
Before Vane could finish, Aurelian spoke gently, "Millions will die—we're in the capital, after all."
Janus rubbed his chin, amusement flickering across his expression. "Hehe, I'll be so happy if the compassionate you does me the favor of sparing me…" His voice was cold, sending a shiver down everyone's spine.
Aurelian nodded solemnly. But to Janus, it almost felt like mockery.
"But I cannot leave without Clara… no matter how many Consorts I have to kill today to achieve that." His voice dropped into an icy whisper—one that carried absolute conviction.
"How do you know her name?!" Leor roared, his fists clenched. He knew this was already over, so gathering information was most important.
Janus didn't even glance at him. His gaze remained locked on Clara and Johan.
If any other Consort had made such a claim, Aurelian would have dismissed it outright. Angels were equal in ability, in Aether, and in combat power, no matter how different their abilities were.
But Janus… Janus was different.
The leader of Achilles had single-handedly stormed the main branch of Melias' Church—slaughtering every last guard, killing one angel, and injuring another two before walking away unscathed, as if he had merely gone for a stroll.
It was the greatest disgrace in Orthodox Church history.
Aurelian understood now. Even if he could somehow defeat Janus here, he would not leave this battle without a heavy cost and an unimaginable amount of damage to the surroundings..
His gaze flickered to Clara—still sobbing in the boy's arms. There was nothing outwardly remarkable about her or Leor, only that they possessed a more natural connection to Aether and greater potential as Numina.
'Why?' Aurelian's thoughts darkened. 'Why would Junas Eos, the leader of Achilles, appear in person for them?'
'He wouldn't act if it wasn't benefiting him somehow, this would definitely raise problems for the church in the future…'
"I refuse." Aurelian's voice was polite, but his stance was firm.
Janus sighed. "As expected. But you see…" His lips curled into a smirk. "Clara was never the target. The real target… was you, Aurelian."
'What? Did he foresee everything?'
Aurelian thought he was beyond feeling emotions. But now—his breath hitched, his pupils shrank, caught completely off guard by the sudden revelation.
"…Gotcha."
"Hahaha"
Janus burst into laughter.
Then—
Golden arms. Then golden legs. Slowly, a whole body manifested beside Janus.
Clad in golden armor, a longsword in his left hand, a shield strapped to his back. A helmet adorned with crimson feathers rested atop his head.
At first glance, it was merely human-sized. But Aurelian knew better.
It was his Celestial Circle.
The Knight.
A ten-thousand-meter spiritual knight—compressed into its most refined form.
It had taken him over a hundred and fifty years to master this level of control.
Yet this man… this Janus…
Just copied it.
It felt like a cruel joke from fate itself.
Janus grinned maliciously, his eyes glinting as Aurelian's face filled with despair. "Now there's no need for us to fight. I will take my leave. Thank you for the gift, Aurelian."
Aurelian clenched his fists.
Janus's grin widened.
'Even if he was a mythical creature, he was still a human at heart. Which was a weakness, anyone can take advantage of.' Janus thought, his eyes curling up as if mocking everything.
And then—
Click.
The sound was quiet, but it rang through the battlefield like a gunshot.
Leor had raised his midnight-black revolver, the long barrel pressing against the soft skin of his temple.
The cylinder clicked as he adjusted his grip.
His breath was slow. Steady. Unnervingly so.
For a moment, silence stretched.
Vane, Clara, and Johan stared in horror.
Janus raised an eyebrow, half-surprised, half-intrigued.
Aurelian's expression wavered—confused.
Leor's lips curved into the faintest of smiles.
As if telling Clara, 'I got this.'
Clara moved to stop him—
Bang.
The gunshot ripped through the night, sharp as a thunderclap.
Leor's body jerked.
Then—
Thud.
He collapsed. The revolver slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the bloodstained ground.
Crimson pooled beneath his motionless form.
Clara stood frozen.
Her face was splattered with blood. Pieces of Leor's brain clung to her skin, to her hair.
Then—
"Hhhahh… ahh—ahhh—!"
Her body convulsed.
A hollow gasp escaped—sharp, broken—nothing but whimpering strangled in her throat.
"No… no… no, no, no, no—!"
Her knees buckled.
She cradled Leor's lifeless body, pulling his head onto her lap, which had fresh blood pouring all over her white gown.
"Hhngh—hhk—ahh—!"
Tears spilled freely, soaking her hands, his cold face.
The moon dimmed. The night turned suffocatingly dark.
The realization set in.
She would never see her brothers again.
James was gone.
Leor was gone.
Weren't we supposed to celebrate together today?
Eat together?
Drink together?
Dance together?
Laugh together?
…Why?!
Author's Note: Consort=Angel, don't be confused