The battle raged on, but Fafniel was the first to reach his limit. He had always relied on overwhelming opponents with mana rather than endurance, so his stamina training was lacking. Recognizing this, he decided to end the fight before Adriel surpassed him in power.

  Summoning an omnidirectional ice and shockwave attack, he forced Adriel to retreat and slow down. Adriel barely managed to block in time, but Fafniel wasn’t finished. Typically, Fafniel’s magic incorporated five chapters—Genesis, Numbers, Ecclesiastes, Acts, and Isaiah—but this time, he used eight, drastically increasing the potency of his attack. It was a gamble; if he missed, he would be left defenseless.

  To ensure accuracy, he included [Ecclesiastes: Perfect Time and Time Manipulation], while [Judges: The Power of the Lord] enhanced its strength. He condensed the energy into a light blast, and as Adriel saw it, his instincts took over. Burning away the ice with [Acts: Holy Fire], he prepared a counterattack.

  As Fafniel unleashed the light blast, Adriel raised his hand just in time, forming a shield with [Genesis, Judges, Deuteronomy, Numbers, and Job: Absolute Nullifying Garden of Protection].

  “He blocked it?” Uriel’s eyes widened.

  Gabriele, equally stunned, added, “That should’ve killed him… What a monster.”

  Fafniel’s expression remained unreadable. “I anticipated your instincts would be your greatest strength. If I hadn’t adjusted, I wouldn’t have thought to add this.”

  The ground erupted with glowing seals, breaking apart as they amplified the attack.

  “Damn it!” Adriel gritted his teeth. “[Chronicles: Divine Absorption]!” He began absorbing the blast.

  Fafniel lunged, but doubt twisted in his gut. If this failed, he’d be wide open. No mana. No second chances. He clenched his jaw—no room for hesitation. This had to end now.

  But Adriel quickly realized the trick—Fafniel had invoked [Deuteronomy: Law of the Land], which decreed that absorbed energy can only be redirected.

  Adriel had no choice. He fired the stored energy at Fafniel. The backlash was immediate—his right hand detonated in a flash of white-hot agony. Bone, flesh, and nerves screamed as he staggered, his mind struggling to process the sudden loss. Fafniel dodged at the last second and pressed forward. Before Adriel could react, Fafniel struck, concentrating the power of all eight chapters into his fingertip and landing a devastating blow to Adriel’s throat.

  Adriel collapsed, unconscious. Fafniel dropped to one knee, barely conscious himself, completely drained of mana.

  When the dust settled, Samael stepped forward to announce the new rankings.

  “The new number one is… Fafniel.”

  Uriel’s confident smirk vanished. “What?!”

  “The second place is a tie between Adriel and Uriel,” Samael continued. “Last is Gabriele.”

  Uriel clenched his fists. “You’ve got to be kidding me! I beat my opponent, and Adriel lost—how are we tied?!”

  Samael barely glanced at him. “Adriel reached a greater level of flow than you. As you are now, he would defeat you.”

  Uriel opened his mouth to argue, but Samael cut him off. “You should be grateful I ranked you second. You were meant to be third.”

  The other angels chuckled at Uriel’s frustration as he stormed out in anger, vowing to prove the rankings wrong.

  “Any questions?” Samael asked, ignoring Uriel’s tantrum.

  Gabriele leaned forward, intrigued. “What exactly do you mean by ‘flow’?”

  Samael’s gaze sharpened. “It’s not just a mindset. It’s when mind, soul, and spirit align — when hesitation dies and instinct takes over. In Flow, you stop thinking. You become action itself.”

  Fafniel, still recovering, thought to himself: I knew flow was powerful, but this… this is beyond anything I imagined.

  Gabriele furrowed her brow. “Can a mere state of mind really have such a profound impact?”

  “Absolutely,” Samael affirmed. “The mind is our greatest weapon. Even in the face of inevitable defeat, unwavering will can carve a path to victory. Take Jophiel’s battle with Asmodiel—she won solely because she entered flow.”

  Gabriele’s smirk returned. “Interesting. How can we attain this?”

  Samael’s answer was simple: “Reject defeat.”

  Fafniel stirred. “I did. Against Adriel. But I still needed... something else.”

  "Isn't it? When I speak of rejecting defeat, I don't merely mean when victory is within reach. I mean rejecting it even when you're standing at death's door, when defeat seems inevitable," Samael continued, his voice unwavering. "It is a mindset akin to insanity; only those that have unwavering confidence in their abilities can achieve it."

  The angels listened intently, absorbing his words. Samael’s call to cultivate an unshakable belief in their own greatness resonated deeply within them.

  Then Samael spoke again — softer, but fiercer. “Train your pride. Shape your will. Kill doubt before it grows. Because when the end comes, only those who believe they cannot fall… won’t.”

  With those final words, Samael turned and exited the training hall, leaving the angels to wrestle with the weight of his message. The room buzzed with contemplation as each angel reflected on their own mindset, assessing the changes they needed to make. His words lingered in the air, igniting a renewed sense of purpose and an unrelenting drive to rise above their limitations.

  Among them, the angels each processed Samael’s message in their own way. Adriel’s laughter rang out, his excitement palpable as he relished the challenge ahead, eager to test the power of the mind in battle. Fafniel, ever confident, smirked, already envisioning the trials to come. Their rivalry crackled in the air, an unspoken challenge exchanged between them.

  But Gabriele’s reaction was different. A spark of anger flared within her. The way the others overlooked her, the way they failed to see her as a true competitor—it stoked a fire in her heart. She had spent years proving herself, and yet, she was still underestimated.

  Her mind shifted to Lady Jophiel, her role model—the one who had risen from an angel general to become the youngest archangel. Gabriele had always admired her, had always aspired to follow in her footsteps. Now, more than ever, she refused to be ignored. She clenched her fists, determination surging through her veins.

  She vowed to be the first in the next training, to push herself beyond her limits, to make them see her for what she truly was—a force to be reckoned with.

  Anticipation crackled in the air like lightning ready to strike. The angels dispersed from the training grounds with fire in their eyes—each one driven by raw ambition and the weight of Samael’s words. The trials ahead promised no mercy. But they didn’t want mercy. They wanted to ascend. To transcend. To prove their strength or be broken by the path.

  Far from the training fields, Samael had already withdrawn into silence.

  Back in his quarters, he sat cross-legged, bathed in stillness. He tried to meditate, to still the storm inside, but it was no use. Blood. Screams. Familiar voices torn apart by unseen horrors flashed behind his eyelids. His jaw was clenched.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The air crackled, and a summons materialized in front of him, sealed with the archangel’s sigil—a six-sided star. He picked it up with a sigh.

  “Uriel’s still holding a grudge,” he muttered.

  Rising from the floor, Samael dressed in flowing white robes and golden sandals, his every motion calm but deliberate. He walked the long corridor to the meeting chamber, each step echoing like a countdown.

  The chamber doors opened with a low groan.

  Tension hit him like a wall.

  Uriel lounged with a predator’s grin while the other archangels sat stone-faced, their gazes sharp and unyielding. Whatever peace remained was paper-thin—and Samael had just stepped into the fire.

  Michael, ever the enforcer of order, met Samael’s gaze. “We need to discuss your ranking decisions.”

  Samael exhaled, unimpressed. “Let me guess… Uriel is complaining?”

  Michael nodded. “We find it strange that you ranked him alongside someone who lost.”

  Samael’s confidence never wavered. “Uriel should be grateful I didn’t place him third. Adriel may have lost, but his combat instincts and mastery of flow outclassed Uriel’s. If they fought now, Adriel would win.”

  Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you certain?”

  “Absolutely,” Samael replied without hesitation. “Even if I judged solely on skill and talent usage, Uriel wouldn’t be second. He wasn’t pushed to his limit. If he had fought Fafniel instead, he might have won, but since he didn’t, we can’t know for certain. My ranking considered not just performance, but potential.”

  The archangels exchanged glances, surprised by Samael’s defense of Uriel. Normally, Samael was the first to mock him.

  “So, their tie represents one having greater potential and the other demonstrating stronger performance?” Michael clarified.

  “Exactly.”

  "Master, you are misunderstanding the situation..." Uriel interjected.

  "Misunderstanding?" Samael chuckled.

  "Yes, his talent lies in his mastery of mana. However, I employed my talent in a far superior manner," Uriel countered.

  Samael scoffed. “Your arrogance blinds you. This meeting is over.” He turned to leave, but Jophiel stepped forward.

  “Samael, remember your promise to Lilith,” she said gently. “There’s still a chance for Uriel to grow. Convince him of your decision.”

  The archangels wondered what promise Jophiel spoke about before reeling in shock. He listened to her? They pondered.

  Samael hesitated, then sighed. “You’re right. Uriel, you still have much to learn. Recognize the wisdom in failure and strive to improve. Only then will you truly understand your station.”

  Uriel understood his master’s point of view, but he couldn't bear to be tied with an angel general. As an archangel appointed by Samael, such an outcome would be a humiliating disgrace. “Fine! If you won't acknowledge my strength, let the others judge. But mark my words—they’ll see I deserve more than a tie with a subordinate.”

  His words disappointed the archangels, yet they respected his request. Michael, sensing the lingering dissatisfaction, spoke up. "Your student is still not convinced by your explanations. To make a fair decision, we need to witness the fight."

  Understanding his student's need for closure, Samael realized there was only one way to impart the lesson fully—to lead Uriel into the depths of despair. And with Azrael’s straightforward nature, he knew Azrael would be the one to deliver the final blow. With a nod, Samael projected the battle before the assembled archangels. As they watched the intense clash unfold, a heavy silence descended upon the room.

  "You all saw it. I won my fight, and Adriel lost," Uriel interjected, trying to sway the archangels.

  "Did both of them utilise Level Two of the Flow?" Michael asked, disregarding Uriel’s argument.

  "Yes, they both demonstrated impressive skills, don't you think?" Samael remarked, further frustrating Uriel.

  "Yes, some archangels aren't even capable of such feats," Michael admitted.

  "Wow, this younger generation is truly igniting a fire within me," Gabriel added enthusiastically.

  "Yes, I am filled with determination," Azrael stated, clenching his fist. The other archangels exchanged surprised glances. Azrael was rarely one to train, as those beneath his rank had never posed a true challenge to him.

  "That's unexpected, Azrael. I never thought mere angels would stir you," Raphael commented.

  "Mock me all you want, but they are not mere angels. They pose a threat to us," Azrael scoffed.

  "What do you mean?" Jophiel inquired.

  Azrael scoffed again. "You truly don’t know? Let me spell it out for you. As they are now, they surpass some of us in skill. And I’m certain Samael knows that, which is why he showed us the video. He did it to demonstrate that we can be replaced if we don’t improve."

  "Come now, Azrael, that’s a stretch. We asked for proof, and he provided it. That’s all," Ariel countered.

  "Yeah, Samael didn’t show it to threaten us. He’s not that manipulative," Jophiel agreed, with all the archangels echoing their sentiments.

  Azrael smirked. “Think about it. He didn’t need to show us the fight—he wanted us to see it. Why?”

  Silence followed; the archangels pondered Azrael’s words.

  “Ask him yourself.” Azrael challenged, locking eyes with Samael.

  "Samael, tell him you didn’t have ulterior motives," Ariel urged.

  Samael clapped slowly, releasing a loud laugh. "Impressive, Azrael. You saw through everything."

  "What?! He was right?" Michael’s eyes widened in shock.

  "How did you know?" Gabriel asked, bewildered.

  Azrael smirked. "It’s simple. After I spoke to Samael before my battle with my brother, I realized he doesn’t do what’s expected—he does what will lead to the desired outcome. He didn’t just want us to see the fight. He needed us to fear being replaced. Fear is a powerful motivator."

  Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Not bad. Here, I thought you were just an arrogant fool."

  "Is that supposed to be an insult? Because if it is, you can do better. I just made all of you look foolish," Azrael shot back.

  "There’s the Azrael I remember," Gabriel chuckled.

  "Enough!" Uriel snapped, angered by being ignored. "I brought you here to fix the injustice, not to treat me like I don’t exist!”

  The archangels had intentionally ignored Uriel to spare his feelings, as they were unimpressed by his performance. But as he spoke, they all turned to him with glares so intense that he instinctively recoiled. Uriel held the title of archangel, yet he was still incomplete. Strength alone wasn’t enough. To truly grow, one had to acknowledge those above them and possess wisdom—two qualities he sorely lacked.

  Samael noticed Azrael’s smouldering irritation and waited, barely suppressing a grin. Azrael had a tell—before delivering blunt truths, he always smiled just slightly.

  "Isn't it obvious? After watching the fight, we can say with certainty that Samael got your ranking wrong," Azrael said smoothly.

  "See, Master? Thank you, Lord Azrael," Uriel said, relief evident in his voice as he sought validation.

  "Wait, did we watch the same video?" Michael interjected, sceptical.

  "Let him finish." Samael gestured for Azrael to continue, still restraining his amusement.

  All the archangels, including Uriel, turned their attention toward Azrael, awaiting his verdict.

  Azrael’s laughter rang through the room, his mocking tone slicing through the tension. "With that godawful performance, you deserve to be third—no, perhaps even last. How delusional are you? With such a pathetic showing, I doubt you deserve to be an archangel."

  His words shattered Uriel’s confidence. Panic flickered in his eyes as he scanned the room. "I'm sure Lord Azrael was just being mean, right? None of you agree with him?"

  Silence hung in the air. Then, Michael finally spoke. "Unfortunately, I have to agree with Azrael... though he could have been less cruel about it."

  Overwhelmed, Uriel stormed out of the room, his shame palpable.

  “Well, if that’s all, I’d like to get back to what I was doing,” Samael said, turning to leave.

  “Wait…! You need to explain what Azrael meant. Why manipulate us?” Michael demanded. All the archangels turned to Samael, awaiting his answer.

  "I did it to light a fire under you, to push you to train. We must become stronger—a dark threat looms over us," Samael admitted, his voice tinged with rare unease.

  "Is it a fallen angel?" Raphael asked.

  "No. It’s something worse… something greater," Samael said, his voice trailing off.

  The archangels exchanged worried glances, the weight of his words sinking in.

  "But can't you protect us?" Ariel asked, a hint of panic creeping into her voice.

  A heavy silence followed.

  Jophiel finally voiced the shared concern, "How can we hope to defeat a threat that even you fear?"

  Gabriel's voice cut through the tension, "And more importantly, why did you keep this from us?"

  Samael’s irritation flared. "If I had told you, what would you have done? Trained harder? Or simply relied on me to solve the problem, as you always have?"

  The weight of his accusation settled on them. Deep down, they knew he was right. Still, Azrael wasn’t satisfied.

  Narrowing his eyes, Azrael pressed further. "You're still holding something back. What aren’t you telling us?"

  All eyes turned to Samael, silently demanding the truth. Their faith in him, their protector, teetered on the edge.

  Samael hesitated. Once he spoke, there would be no turning back. He took a breath before finally revealing, "The reason I didn’t tell you... is because the enemy we face wields my fighting style. And I believe it surpasses even my own."

  Azrael’s usually composed demeanour shattered. "That’s impossible!"

  Despair began to set in, but Samael had no patience for weakness.

  "Enough!" he bellowed, his voice reverberating through the room. "You call yourselves archangels? Yet the moment you’re confronted with a real challenge, you cower like children. I chose each of you because I saw your potential to surpass even me. It doesn’t matter if this adversary mimics my style. Show them the strength and resolve of my chosen archangels. Rise and defeat him!"

  Samael’s words reignited the fire within them. Determination replaced despair as they accepted the gravity of their task. No longer bound by fear, they would embody their mentor’s legacy and prove themselves worthy of their titles.

  A smirk played at Azrael’s lips. "Well, this just got interesting."

  The archangels stood united, their resolve burning stronger than ever.

  "Good. Your weakness was starting to disgust me." Samael turned and walked out.

  Samael’s footsteps echoed in the empty halls. His hand clenched, his mind replaying the vision again and again. A white-haired man with light skin, locked in brutal combat against the archangels. But what disturbed Samael most wasn’t the battle itself—it was that he had seen it all through the man’s eyes.

  "Why?" he murmured, barely above a whisper. "Why would I betray them?"