"You—"
Enoch's eyes flickered with confusion as he stared at his empty hand.
Moments ago, he had been holding his Book of Enoch.
The azure flames faded, retreating into the stone tablet Lucius held.
The rectangular tablet, roughly the size of a book, bore a crude drawing of a man bound by chains at his wrists and ankles. Around its edges were patterns of winged birds, the sun, moon, and stars.
The Prometheus Grimoire.
A divine artifact taken from the witch's villa.
Thinking it might prove useful, Lucius had refrained from absorbing its power.
Prometheus, a figure from Greek mythology, was a Titan descendant. Unlike his brother Epimetheus, whose name meant "afterthought," Prometheus was the "forethinker," A sage with foresight.
He was also the god of trickery and theft, stealing fire from the gods for humanity.
His divine artifact mirrored that myth, capable of stealing power from gods.
Azure flames flowed from the tablet, and a book appeared in Lucius's hand.
The Book of Enoch!
Using his Process Skipping ability, Lucius had bypassed the steps of "boarding Enoch's flaming chariot" And "using the Prometheus Grimoire to steal Enoch's power."
The Grimoire required prior contact with the target to function.
The witch Lucius had dealt with earlier spent an entire night conversing with a minor land god to meet that condition.
To fulfill the Grimoire's requirement, Lucius repeatedly used Process Skipping during Enoch and Verethragna's battle, bypassing countless "contact with Enoch" Steps.
His efforts paid off—the Grimoire seized the core of Enoch's power, the Book of Enoch!
Marquis Voban's Authority, Grimoire of Incantations, could forcibly take knowledge and spells from mages, inscribing them on paper for later use.
The Book of Enoch served a similar role.
Holding the book, Lucius didn't hesitate, delivering a swift kick to his "loyal" Ally.
Enoch, shaken, snapped back to reality and countered with a kick of his own.
Whatever had happened, making this ally feel his mercy couldn't hurt!
But Lucius had no intention of trading blows with the saint.
In scripture, Jacob wrestled a divine being all night, even holding it until dawn.
As an older saint, Enoch's strength seemed even greater.
From his fight with Verethragna, Lucius knew a brawl would leave his head pulverized.
As Enoch's kick extended, Lucius calmly activated Process Skipping again.
The "cause": his foot striking out toward Enoch.
The "effect": Enoch sent flying off the chariot.
The process between was skipped entirely.
Enoch's body hurtled off the flaming chariot, crashing heavily to the ground.
No—the chariot was no longer Enoch's.
It was summoned via the Book of Enoch.
Holding the book, Lucius commanded the chariot to soar skyward, far from the White Horse's attack range.
On the ground, Enoch rose, dazed, staring at the chariot that had abandoned him and the treacherous ally now controlling it.
Who am I? What am I doing?
Then—
The White Horse, carrying the sun, crashed to the ground with a boom.
A blinding sun erupted, visible even across the sea as a radiant orb on the horizon.
Verethragna, his blue-purple hair disheveled, gaped at the sudden turn of events.
From the horse's appearance to its impact, mere seconds had passed.
Yet so much had unfolded that even he couldn't keep up.
Soon, his handsome face broke into a grin.
"Hahaha! Hahaha!" Verethragna laughed, tears of mirth in his eyes. "This twist far exceeds my expectations!"
"I thought you'd wait for me and the saint to settle our fight before acting, not this!"
"But you, who stole my opponent, must now give me a satisfying battle!"
Lucius chuckled, waving the Book of Enoch at the war god.
"This book came with Enoch's manifestation. If he returns to myth, it should vanish."
He glanced at the spot where Enoch had fallen.
"Yet it remains in my hand, meaning, war god, your White Horse wasn't strong enough!"
Verethragna didn't reply, his expectant gaze fixed on the ground.
As the smoke cleared, something pierced through it.
Wings.
Numerous, massive wings.
Seventy-two radiant wings—thirty-six pairs—unfurled slowly.
Angelic, holy wings.
Their sheer number was unsettling, sending chills down the spine.
From the smoke emerged a monstrous head that would make mortals faint in terror.
Its face bore countless eyes—an astonishing thirty-five thousand.
Bearing thirty-six pairs of wings and thirty-five thousand eyes, its face brighter than the sun, this "angel" emerged.
It raised its head, all thirty-five thousand eyes turning toward Lucius.
Or rather, toward the Book of Enoch in his hand.
Its seventy-two holy wings lifted slightly.
***
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