Gungnir gleamed brilliantly in his raised right hand before he tossed it lightly, transforming it into a shooting star. Michael didn't dare engage—he turned and fled immediately. His six wings beat furiously, granting him tremendous speed and power. Yet against the Eternal Spear's unavoidable strike, marked by the Eyes of Death, his efforts were futile.
The golden streak of light crossed the sky in an instant, intersecting with the snow-white Angel. A wet, piercing sound echoed overhead as a spray of vivid blood bloomed in the air. Gungnir had driven straight through Michael's chest.
The impact curled the Angel's body like a shrimp around the spear shaft, sending him plummeting earthward at terrifying speed. Michael released his red-crossed sword and seized the Eternal Spear with both hands. Instantly, milky-white light engulfed his palms and arms.
Divine power clashed with Dragon Power, hissing like oil on fire. Provoked by the foreign energy, Gungnir's divinity ignited. Odin's pure white power erupted from the spear's core, blasting a bowl-sized hole through Michael's chest. His shrill scream tore across the sky.
Agony seared his soul. Michael recoiled, ignoring the gaping wound as his body flickered erratically—he meant to retreat to his home dimension, Heaven. But as the saying goes: There's a road to Heaven you refuse to take, yet you barge into Hell where no door awaits. Did he truly think leaving would be so easy?
Their altitude had dropped sharply—barely a dozen meters above the city's tallest building now. Onlookers below could clearly see the horrific wound in Michael's chest, the bright blood staining his pristine wings.
Meanwhile, the Dragon King hadn't paused to watch. He released the five remaining rings from his left arm. They streaked toward Michael, connecting via visible threads of Dragon Power to encircle the Angel completely.
Just as Michael tensed to flee again, the five rings flared simultaneously. Chains of light bound his body, locking space itself. He felt the connection to Heaven severed by an overwhelming force.
His gaze snapped upward, meeting Hong Fei's. "You dare blaspheme God's messenger?" he spat.
Hong Fei flew closer, reaching for Gungnir.
"You're the one calling yourself that. What gives you the right to spout nonsense in front of me?"
Michael summoned his red-crossed sword through the air.
"You can't kill me. This is just an avatar's projection."
"Then I'll start with the avatar."
"My true body remains in Heaven."
"Thanks for the warning. I'll pay it a visit."
"Arrogant!"
Fury burned in Michael's eyes—not for himself, but for that distant, unnamed "God."
Hong Fei studied him, pity creeping into his expression. This Angel was either genuinely and deeply loyal to God from the bottom of his heart, or he had been completely brainwashed by that God over the long years. The birth process of the power of faith is accompanied by the loss of self, selflessly dedicating everything one has, including the Soul, to a so-called deity. Is this reasonable? Clearly, it is not.
Even as a villain, Hong Fei had never thought about making himself stronger by harvesting faith. It's too sinful.
The twentieth second.
"You don't need to spout nonsense to me. Today, either you kill me, or I kill you; neither of us is going anywhere. Whatever other methods you have, I can give you time to use them now."
He wanted to see what kind of power the Angel truly possessed, or rather, what the power attributes and usage methods of the Heaven dimension were like. Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated in a hundred battles. Who knows if he will go to Heaven to visit that God in the future. Hearing this, Michael turned his head to look at the five rings surrounding him.
The golden light on the five rings seemed to have established a special connection with him to some extent. The frequency of the flickering light was completely synchronized with his own energy; in other words, no matter what he wanted to do now, the five rings could keep up very quickly. Unable to escape. Taking a deep breath, Michael's long golden hair fluttered high behind him without any wind.
Paired with his snow-white skin and golden eyes, he indeed carried an indescribable sense of holiness. The key is to ignore the hole pierced through his chest. He saw his hands grip the cross sword and lift it gently. The cross gradually pressed against his brow, his eyes closed gently, and his face was instantly filled with endless piety.
In an instant, the red cross sword first shone brightly, then became extremely restrained. As the light contracted, the sword body disappeared, branding a red cross onto his forehead instead. Michael spread his arms, and the three pairs of wings behind him extended simultaneously. His head tilted upward, and beams of light rushed out from the cross. The void suddenly began to vibrate violently.
Opposite him, Hong Fei first frowned while watching, then his expression suddenly changed. His five fingers instantly tightened on the spear shaft, and he stood straight up, "You still want to run?!"
Previously, Michael connected to the Heaven dimension through his body, but this connection was blocked by the five rings. Now, Michael was reconnecting to the Heaven dimension through the combination of his body and the cross sword, effectively bypassing the blockade of the five rings and finding another way. Who would have thought that such a thick-browed and big-eyed Angel could be so shameless as to use the opportunity given by the enemy to create further opportunities to escape right in front of the enemy?
I am so stupid, really. Hong Fei was very angry. He approached for the fourth time, spear pointing straight ahead. In an instant, Michael opened his eyes, his gaze changing abruptly as if he were a different person, devoid of any vitality, filled only with deep, heavy indifference. White light shot out from his eyes, and after colliding with Gungnir, it actually reached a stalemate.
Meanwhile, Michael's body began to flicker again, and the exchange between virtual and real began once more. Seeing this, Hong Fei simply let go of Gungnir, letting it maintain itself by relying on Odin's divine power. He retracted the five rings on the spear and the five rings surrounding Michael simultaneously, stood suspended in the air, and pulled his hands apart in a cross motion.
Suddenly, the void behind him tore open, and the Dragon Dimension burst wide open. The vast, ocean-like Dragon Power roared and rolled within the dimension. The dimension gate expanded rapidly, instantly covering more than half of the sky. Hong Fei suddenly pushed his hands forward, and a straight golden beam of light immediately enveloped Michael.
Michael's virtual-real conversion halted abruptly. The white light in his eyes dimmed, and his indifferent expression shattered.
"What the hell is this thing?"
His voice betrayed a crack in his composure. Hong Fei, however, had no patience for further discussion.
He raised his palms, and the Dragon Power behind him surged like a tidal wave. Ahead, a golden dragon head materialized, its scales shimmering with tangible solidity as they spread across the path. In moments, the Dragon Dimension gate opened wide, revealing glimpses of a colossal golden dragon—its scales gleaming, its claws massive.
A dragon claw extended from the gate, its shadow looming over Michael's Angel form, reducing him to a speck of dust. Panicked, Michael spun around and fled, but the dragon claw moved faster, blocking his path at every turn. He darted in every direction—up, down, left, right—until he was gasping for breath, sweat plastering his golden hair to his face.
He considered pleading with Hong Fei, but when he looked up, the sky was empty.
"Looking for me?"
The soft voice behind him sent a shiver down his spine, his feathers trembling. Before he could react, powerful hands seized his two lowest pairs of wings.
Michael's eyes widened.
"No!!" he screamed. On the ground, the crowd watched in horrified fascination, their mouths agape, their eyes filled with a mix of fear and morbid anticipation.
Hong Fei gripped the wings firmly, the Ten Rings now adorning his fingers. With a sudden burst of force, his fingers pierced the wings like blades. Golden blood sprayed from the wounds, starkly different from the red he'd shed earlier. These wings clearly held immense significance for Michael—more than mere ornamentation.
As Michael cried out in agony, Hong Fei drove his knee into the Angel's lower back and yanked backward. Rip! The sound was sharp, almost deafening. Two clusters of golden blood splattered to the ground as the wings tore free, now limp in Hong Fei's hands. The wings were massive, spanning over three meters, their feathers pristine and gleaming. Blood rolled off them like water, leaving no stain—if one ignored the gruesome flesh at their base.
"Ahhh! You'll die a horrible death!" Michael wailed as he continued to flee.
Hong Fei tossed the wings into the air. A dragon head, larger than the city itself, emerged from the Dragon Dimension and swallowed them whole. He caught up to Michael again, seizing the middle pair of wings. Rip! Another pair vanished into the dragon's maw.
"I surrender!"
Michael turned, sweat dripping down his face, his back now exposed.
But all that awaited him was the Dragon King's claw. Its five fingers closed around his neck.
"Surrendering is meaningless," Hong Fei said coldly.
Michael struggled.
"I... can..."
"No need. I told you before: either you die, or I live. Now both conditions can be met."
However, at this moment, all that greeted him was the Dragon King's unrelenting grip. Hong Fei flipped the angel onto his back. He seized the final pair of wings still attached to Michael's body, planted his foot firmly on the bloodied spine, and yanked with all his strength. Michael's screams echoed through the air, a mix of terror and agony. The sound of tearing flesh—sharp, clean, and eerily satisfying—filled the space.
One by one, the wings were ripped away. But Michael's body didn't crumple to the ground. Instead, it began to shift, his solid form dissolving into a ghostly, translucent figure. His eyes locked onto Hong Fei, blazing with fury, hate, and a desperate thirst for vengeance.
Yet that intensity faded quickly, replaced by a hollow, lifeless stare. In his final moment, his gaze flickered toward Gungnir, the spear floating nearby, before he faded entirely.
A moment later, a broken, illusory body was thrown by the Dragon King to the immense divine dragon in the sky. A crystal-colored card rose up, glinting in the light.