Chapter 48: Both Victory and Death Shall Be Decided

Above Avant Heim.

When Origami Tobiichi appeared, the surrounding Flügel quickly gathered around.

Naturally, they had all noticed the abnormal phenomenon that occurred when Mio Takamiya descended—an overwhelming presence that made every Flügel feel both thrilled and terrified from the depths of their hearts. As a race that sought to hunt down powerful foes, they had rushed to the scene immediately.

Unlike the God-race, Fantasy-race, and Dragon-race who observed secretly from the shadows, the Flügel were far inferior in power compared to these higher species, but they made up for it in sheer numbers. Because of this, they feared no danger.

Even if they encountered a being too powerful to defeat, it didn't matter—the God of War would intervene.

However, when they used spatial shift to teleport to the location, they were surprised to find Origami Tobiichi standing next to the newly born God-race entity.

And now, with Origami arriving at Avant Heim, it was only natural that she would be surrounded by a crowd of Flügel.

"Make way for the Speaker, meow!"

Just as Origami was being surrounded, Azril arrived with members of the Eighteen-Winged Council to restore order.

"What exactly did you do?!"

After forcibly calming the majority of the Flügel, Azril asked with a look of exasperation, "What's with that God-race being? What is your relationship with her, meow?"

"That is the secret mission entrusted to me by the God of War."

Facing Azril interrogation, Origami remained calm, as always, invoking the name of Artosh: "I have now successfully completed the mission. I must go and have an audience with the God of War."

"Father assigned you a mission to create a God-race being?!"

As the first prototype of the Flügel, Azril might not be the brightest, but her understanding of Artosh allowed her to quickly guess the true nature of this so-called 'secret mission'.

A complicated expression appeared on her face—she didn't know whether to feel happy or disappointed.

"Yes," Origami nodded. "The God of War yearns for a worthy opponent. My mission was to create a God-race being capable of defeating the strongest of the God-race. And now, I have succeeded."

Azril instinctively wanted to object.

In her eyes, Artosh was undoubtedly the strongest God-race being. There was no way any other could surpass him.

However, just as she was about to voice her protest, a familiar presence suddenly appeared behind her.

Gasps of astonishment echoed around them. When the Flügel saw the figure that had appeared, their expressions turned devout and frenzied.

"Father..."

Azril turned around in disbelief.

Although the presence alone was enough to confirm that Artosh stood behind her, seeing him with her own eyes still left her speechless.

In her memory, Artosh had never once left his throne.

He always appeared to be in a state of divine indifference, his gaze lowered from the throne, silently observing the world.

Because he stands at the pinnacle of existence.

But now, her creator god had left his throne.

Golden eyes shimmered with delight. Eighteen wings fully extended, like a lion awakened from slumber—his entire being exuded a sharpness that made others instinctively want to kneel before him.

"Our agreement—I have fulfilled it."

The previously chattering Flügel had fallen completely silent.

Facing Artosh, Origami voice was soft, yet it echoed in every listener's heart.

"Well done. You kept your word."

A smile grew on Artosh lips. "I've waited far too long for this battle. Now that the main God of the Spirit-race has emerged, let's see just how much satisfaction this fight can bring me."

"As you wish."

The next moment, both Artosh and Origami disappeared from the sight of all the Flügel.

At nearly the same time, not far from Mio Takamiya, a tall golden-haired man appeared before her.

Stretching the wings that had long remained folded, Artosh fixed his gaze on the girl before him—his fighting spirit surging.

"A pleasure to meet you, Main God of the Spirit-race."

His desire for battle could no longer be suppressed.

Yet Artosh still maintained the dignity of a god, showing Mio the respect she deserved.

"I know who you are. I also know why you're here."

Mio nodded slightly, her tone calm. "God of War, Artosh—your appearance here must mean you've come prepared, haven't you?"

"Of course."

His overwhelming aura began to surge, warping the space around him. "No other God-race being in this world has ever caught my eye. But you are different. From the very first moment I saw you, I knew—you are the opponent I've waited for all this time."

"I'm honored," Mio replied gently and gracefully. "I must admit, your power is indeed awe-inspiring. Even for me, defeating you won't be easy."

"Only... 'not easy'?"

Artosh laughed—not in anger, but with interest.

"No God-race being has ever dared to say such words before me. I like you even more now. Even if you lose, I will not kill you."

"In that case, if you lose, I won't kill you either."

"Haha! No need for such kindness," Artosh laughed heartily. "I won't lose. For a God of War, the only outcome is victory—or death!"

"To end this Great War, I must ask you to fall."

Mio face showed a trace of pity.

And then, three immense auras emerged behind her.

A flower bud slowly blossomed, like the bloom of life, yet emanating the scent of death.

Angel of Death: Cathedral of Myriad Phenomena.

A verdant giant tree rose from the earth, turning everything within a hundred-mile radius into monochrome, enveloping Artosh within it.

Angel of Law: Paradise of Samsara.

Finally, Mio raised both hands, and an illusory seed appeared in her palms.

Angel of Nothingness: [unnamed].

Under the blessing of these three archangels, Mio merely stood still—yet she radiated an aura of absolute, irresistible authority.

If she strikes—he will die.

The instinct of the God of War screamed inside Artosh mind.

But he had waited too long for this moment, for an opponent like this.

As the God of War, he rarely found a match—sitting upon his lofty throne was nothing short of torture.

Death did not frighten him.

To die in battle—would be a blessing.

"Let it begin, then."

Artosh eyes flared with even greater intensity.

"No matter who wins or loses—this battle of gods shall come to an end!"