Artosh was massive—more than twice the height of an ordinary human. His muscles were corded, his golden eyes sharp and bright, and a black beard framed his face. Most striking of all were the eighteen pairs of wings on his back. When not in use they folded up like a feathered cloak draped over his shoulders.
Artosh, the War God, was the creator of the Flügel—"father," as Azril defined him—and the strongest of the god-species.
He sat on the throne with his eyes closed, as if waiting.
Suddenly—
"!"
Artosh lifted his gaze, a flicker of surprise flashing through the gold of his eyes. Space rippled at the center of the hall and seven figures appeared one after another: Rei Ao, Azril, Jibril, Schwi, Kanna, Michiru, and Couronne.
His eyes slid past Michiru and Couronne—the two ordinary humans. Ordinary humans weren't worth his attention. Schwi, an Ex-Machina, made him thoughtful; seeing an Ex-Machina here was a mild surprise. His look grew deeper when he saw Jibril and Azril. He frowned when he saw Kanna—he had already noticed that the power within her didn't belong to this world. At last his gaze stopped on Rei Ao.
Artosh narrowed his eyes. He couldn't see through this seemingly ordinary being, and yet his divine body trembled on instinct. This one… was not normal.
"Artosh-sama!"
Though shaken by their sudden arrival in Avant Heim, Azril recovered quickly and hurried to report: "Per our investigation, Jibril… has confirmed her betrayal and chosen a new master!"
Her eyes flicked, almost involuntarily, toward Rei Ao.
"Oh?"
Artosh wasn't angry about Jibril's betrayal. He simply fixed his stare on Rei Ao. A crushing aura burst from him and slammed toward where Rei Ao stood.
"U—!!"
In an instant, Michiru and Couronne went pale, the pressure making it nearly impossible to breathe. Jibril, Azril, and Schwi also felt the weight multiply. Only Kanna seemed largely unaffected, though she watched the figure on the throne with wary focus.
"That's a poor way to greet guests," Rei Ao said mildly.
In a flash, Artosh's aura was wiped away.
"…"
A gleam of brilliance—and excitement—flashed in Artosh's eyes. He loved battle, but he wasn't a fool. Anyone he couldn't read, he treated as a potential opponent. And what thrilled him was that with a simple test he found the other side might truly be worthy.
Artosh was supremely proud. As the strongest, he regarded the rest as weeds and kept the aloofness of a War God. His very essence was "the strongest," and he rarely put others in his eyes. Yet even a War God has his troubles—he longed for an opponent: someone who could challenge him, match him, even defeat him. He despised most beings, but for those he himself judged to have limitless potential, he felt genuine respect—respect determined only by his own assessment, unrelated to race or raw power.
"Interesting," Artosh finally spoke, his deep, godlike voice echoing through the hall. "Who are you? From where do you come?"
"Rei Ao," he said with a slight smile. "From beyond the world you know."
"Beyond the world…" Stronger interest flashed in Artosh's golden eyes. "So Jibril chose to follow you because you are from outside this world?"
"Partly," Rei Ao replied evenly. "More importantly, I can give her what she truly wants—knowledge, freedom, and a reason to exist."
"Heh…" Artosh scoffed. "A reason to exist? The Flügel's reason to exist is what I granted them. They are my most perfect creations, weapons that exist to prove 'the strongest.'"
"Even weapons can think, and yearn," Rei Ao said, glancing at Jibril. "You created them, but you never truly understood them."
Artosh said nothing, turning his gaze to Azril. "Then, Azril—bringing them here—do you intend to betray me as well?"
Azril dropped to one knee at once. "Never, Artosh-sama! I was… forced to bring them…"
She hesitated, then added, "This person claims he… intends to defeat you."
"…"
Silence filled the palace.
"Hahahaha!!!"
After the silence, Artosh burst into roaring laughter that thundered through the hall. "Defeat me? With what—you?"
"With me," Rei Ao said, expression unchanged.
Artosh's laughter cut off. A dangerous light flickered in his golden eyes. "Do you know how many have said similar things? Do you know how they ended?"
"I don't care," Rei Ao answered calmly. "I only know that today, you will lose to me."
Artosh rose from the throne. Eighteen pairs of wings slowly unfurled, radiating a holy, suffocating pressure. "Then show me."
Rei Ao shook his head. "No. If we fight here, this palace will be destroyed, and innocents will be harmed. We need a more suitable battlefield."
Artosh arched a brow. "You care about that? What a strange being. Very well."
He waved a hand, and space began to twist. "Let's go somewhere we can fight to our heart's content."
In the blink of an eye, everyone was moved to a barren realm. No life—only unending rock. A desolate domain long since killed by war, perfect for a battle between god-class beings.
"How's this?" Artosh asked.
"Good enough—just right for your grave," Rei Ao said with a nod, then turned to the others. "Fall back to a safe distance and watch."
Jibril looked at Rei Ao with worry. "Master, are you truly going to fight the War God Artosh? He's the strongest being in this world…"
Rei Ao smiled. "You said it yourself—in this world."
"…"
Azril's gaze on Rei Ao was complicated. She wanted Artosh-sama to teach this arrogant upstart a lesson—yet a faint unease gnawed at her. This being named Rei Ao… might really be able to face the War God.