Jophiel caught up to Samael just as he reached his chamber. He tried to ignore her, but she followed him inside. Her eyes were sharp, determined—she wouldn’t leave without answers.

  "What do you want?" Samael asked, exasperated.

  "You know what I want," Jophiel snapped. "If someone deserved to be kicked out, it should’ve been Fafniel. That arrogant brat—"

  "Fafniel is my top student," Samael interrupted. "Cocky or not, he earns his place with strength. That’s what matters."

  Jophiel scoffed. "You speak highly of him, and yet you are willing to let him lose to Uriel to make a point? He's just a pawn to you."

  Samael smirked. "Everyone plays a role. His is to push Uriel forward. That’s an honour."

  "Your definition of honour is twisted," she muttered.

  "I know you didn't come here to talk about Fafniel, so tell me why you're here," Samael inquired.

  "It's simple, really. I want you to add Adriel back into 'Dead End, ’" Jophiel asserted.

  "And why would I do that?" Samael questioned.

  "Because!" Jophiel raised her voice, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Because your judgment was unjust."

  "Unjust? How exactly? His role in 'Dead End' was not to be the last. He failed at that, all for Gabriele, who is weak. I can't allow that in my squad," Samael explained, his anger boiling within him.

  "Isn't it the duty of the strong to protect the weak, just as you did for me?" Jophiel challenged.

  “No, your case was different,” Samael said. “I saved you because I swore never to let another archangel die. If I hadn’t made that vow… I wouldn’t have saved you.”

  Jophiel froze.

  Samael didn’t stop.

  “The weak exist to fall for the strong, not the other way around. If the strong throw themselves away for sentiment, who’s left to hold the line? Who stops the fallen angels when there’s no one left strong enough to fight?”

  His voice was calm. “The weak shouldn’t die just because they’re weak. But the strong shouldn’t die because they’re strong either.”

  Samael's words left Jophiel speechless.

  He scoffed. "That's what I thought. You can’t defend your ideology because it’s flawed."

  "No," Jophiel said, voice low with hurt, "I’m speechless because I’m trying to understand what happened to you. Your logic may be sound, but it’s not right. You saved me, and that made me train harder. I didn’t want to stay the weakling you rescued."

  "And yet, you still are," Samael shot back. "If I died for you, would it be worth it? Of course not. There’s nothing you can do that I can’t do better. My death would be meaningless."

  "No, it wouldn’t. I know I’m not your equal, but didn’t Father make you strong to protect the weak?"

  "He did. But who counts as weak? The warriors meant to guard His creations—or the helpless ones we protect?"

  The question struck Jophiel silent.

  "You don’t agree with me, fine. But I’ve seen too many archangels die for others who never reached their potential."

  "But... but that—"

  "What?" Samael snapped. "Look at you. You replaced Zadikel. What have you done? Nothing. Zadikel and I were meant to stop angel deaths, prevent them from falling, and redeem the fallen angels. None of which you can even hope to achieve. So, tell me, are you truly living up to your predecessor, or is his life more important?”

  Jophiel flinched; words caught in her throat.

  "Why put a price on life? Isn’t all life sacred?" she finally whispered.

  "Maybe. But some lives are more important and his was more important than yours." He admitted, his head facing the ground.

  "I understand now," Jophiel said softly.

  Samael scoffed. "As if you could."

  "It was because of Zadikel. He died protecting someone, right?"

  Normally, Samael would shut her down, but he answered this time.

  “He was always so righteous,” Samael said quietly. “His greatest strength—and his biggest flaw.”

  He paused, jaw tightening.

  “That’s how he died. I saw it coming. Warned him.” He shook his head. “But he cared more about me seeing his death than the fact he’d die at all.”

  A ghost of a smile flickered on his lips.

  “He said, ‘Death comes for everyone. There is no need to fear it’.”

  Samael’s voice dropped. “Even so, I made him promise—begged him—to be careful. To stop throwing himself away for others.”

  "But he died for Ariel, right? How did he break his promise? I'm sure you used a heavenly pact to ensure he couldn't break it," Jophiel pressed.

  "I did. But the wording had two meanings."

  "How?"

  "He interpreted it as only sacrificing himself for those who were worthy, and Ariel fit that description," Samael revealed.

  "Why her? She’s not the strongest. Not the smartest. What would make her that important?” Jophiel questioned.

  Samael chuckled. "Didn’t you just say all life is sacred? Your curiosity betrays you."

  "I was asking in this context. I still believe all life is important," Jophiel clarified.

  “Of course,” Samael said, a grin flickering across his face, then fading just as quickly. “Ariel was like me. Bullied for her potential. She has the highest mana capacity of any archangel in history. So I protected her. Took her under my wing.” He exhaled softly. “She’s like an annoying little sister.”

  His gaze dimmed.

  “But Zadikel’s dead because of me. If I’d bound the promise tightly, he’d still be alive. I talk about his life being more valuable, but I gave him an excuse to throw it away for Ariel. Because I couldn’t watch her die.”

  He looked away.

  “How pathetic.”

  This side of Samael shook her, she couldn’t help but comfort him. "Samael, it's not your fault. It was an impossible choice. I don't know who I would have chosen if I were in your shoes," Jophiel said softly, placing her hand on his chest to offer comfort.

  His expression stiffened, and he removed her hand. "But I won't make that mistake again. I won't let my feelings affect my choices again," Samael declared, determination burning in his eyes.

  Before Jophiel could respond, a knock interrupted them.

  “Come in, Fafniel,” Samael called, though Jophiel shot him a look—wordless but clear: Don’t let him interrupt.

  As Fafniel entered, Jophiel vanished. He didn’t ask who Samael had been speaking with. He didn’t care. His focus was absolute.

  Fafniel dropped to one knee, head bowed.

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  “Lord Samael, I seek your guidance… on how to defeat Uriel.”

  Samael’s expression darkened instantly.

  “Is this a joke?” he growled. “You expect me to help you strike down my student? How delusional.”

  “But, my Lord, you said you’d help whoever reached number one,” Fafniel replied, unshaken.

  Samael scoffed. “And I did. I warned you not to underestimate Uriel, didn’t I? You ignored it. So why should I waste my breath again?”

  “My Lord, I only did what you would have done,” Fafniel said firmly.

  “Oh? Is that so?” Samael’s jaw clenched. The frustration in his voice was palpable.

  “Yes, my Lord,” Fafniel pressed on. “I didn’t back down when they called me weak. I trained. I improved. Just like Lord Camiel said, you would’ve done.”

  At that, Samael paused. Then, a crooked smirk tugged at his lips.

  “Camiel said that, did he?”

  The fire in his eyes shifted—just a little—from rage to interest.

  “Fine. I’ll help you. But listen well,” Samael said, stepping closer. “You’re nowhere near Uriel’s level yet, and there are three areas where you’re sorely lacking.”

  He raised a finger.

  “First, your close-quarters combat—it’s garbage. Uriel will tear through you. Fix it.”

  A second finger.

  “Second, your talent. Stop relying on the fundamentals. Push harder. Break through your limits.”

  A third.

  “And last—distance. Learn to control the battlefield. Use your magic the way Ariel does. Keep your enemy where you want them.”

  He dropped his hand.

  “Only then will you stand a chance.”

  "Thank you, Master. I will begin practising everything you've taught me," Fafniel said, eagerness gleaming in his eyes.

  Samael, noticing a flicker of hesitation, asked, "Is something wrong?"

  "I know it’s not my place, but as I approached... I heard a voice in your room," Fafniel admitted cautiously.

  "You’re right—it’s not your place. You are dismissed," Samael said curtly, waving his hand, which transported Fafniel back to his room.

  Jophiel reappeared; her gaze was sharp. "Why did you help him?"

  Samael chuckled. "Because he reminded me of myself. Azazel once called me weak. I didn’t listen—I just kept training. Now he’s nothing but a footnote—an insect in my path. Besides, Uriel needs a challenge."

  "Hmm, I suppose you have a point. Fighting a stronger opponent would be better for Uriel," Jophiel responded.

  "If that's all, you may leave," Samael dismissed her.

  "I’m not leaving until you agree to reinstate Adriel."

  "I’ve explained my reasons. I won’t repeat myself."

  Jophiel’s eyes narrowed. She shifted tactics. "I thought you valued strength?"

  "I do."

  "Then why discard Adriel? With his talent, he could surpass even Fafniel and you are throwing him away?"

  "Oh? Using my logic against me?" Samael laughed. "Funny, coming from someone who claims not to favour individuals. How hypocritical."

  "I’ll wear the label if it stops you from throwing away a star pupil just because you're afraid he might die for someone weaker," she snapped.

  Samael stared at her, then exhaled sharply. "Fine. I’ll consider reinstating him—on the condition he never repeats his reckless act."

  "Really? What changed your mind?" Jophiel inquired.

  "Isn't that what you wanted?" Samael evaded a direct answer.

  "Yes, but you suddenly changed your mind," Jophiel pressed.

  “Well… you were right,” Samael admitted, his voice low but firm. “If I expelled Adriel, I’d be punishing someone for choosing compassion over convenience. He’s talented—too talented to discard over a difference in ideology. It’s not my place to dictate what my students believe. They’ll have to forge their paths.”

  Jophiel gave a slight nod, already turning away. “Fine. I accept that.”

  But before she could take another step, Samael’s voice darkened.

  "Just know you’ll regret it. And be careful with your ability." His eyes flashed red. "It might get you in trouble."

  With a flick, he transported her back to her room.

  Lying in bed, Jophiel mulled over his warning.

  Later that night, Samael was seized by a dream—no, a nightmare.

  He stood trapped behind spectral bars, powerless, a silent witness to the chaos unfolding before him. On the battlefield, a white-haired man tore through the archangels with brutal efficiency, his every move a masterclass in speed, strength, and martial precision. Lightning-fast strikes, perfect footwork—he dismantled the heavenly elite like they were nothing.

  Samael gripped the cage, knuckles white, eyes wide with helpless rage. He wanted to scream, to break free, to join them—but all he could do was watch.

  One by one, the archangels fell.

  And then the man turned. Crimson eyes met Samael’s, burning with cruel amusement. Slowly, deliberately, he walked toward the cage. Samael’s breath caught in his throat. The man reached through the bars—his hand plunging straight into Samael’s chest.

  Pain.

  Blinding, searing pain.

  Samael jolted awake with a gasp, drenched in cold sweat. His chest ached as if the dream had followed him into reality. He pressed a trembling hand to his face, eyes searching the shadows of his room.

  What the hell was that?

  A warning? A prophecy?

  Or something worse?

  To clear his head, Samael trained in the gym, yet the gym clung to him, drawing out more of his hidden strength.

  Samael thought, surprised by the power that surfaced. I must stop dwelling on him. He might get stronger the more I do.

  Lost in thought, he didn’t notice Jophiel enter.

  "Why did you tell me to be careful about my abilities?” she asked.

  Samael blinked. "What are you talking about? I never said that. Are you okay?"

  Jophiel froze, confused. Before she could reply, other angels arrived.

  Samael turned to the approaching angels and announced.

  “Good morning, everyone. The long-awaited fight for the number one spot begins today. But first…” He turned to Adriel, gaze sharp. “Jophiel begged me yesterday to reinstate you into ‘Dead End’. And truth be told… I’m inclined to agree.”

  A murmur of joy rippled through the crowd—every angel cheering, except Fafniel. Uriel pulled Jophiel into a hug, whispering, “You kept your word.” Adriel nodded gratefully to Samael.

  But the celebration halted as Samael raised a hand, then pointed directly at Uriel.

  “But it’s in your hands.”

  Uriel’s eyes widened. “What?”

  Jophiel stepped forward, voice hard. “That wasn’t what we discussed.”

  Samael shrugged with a grin. “I agreed to put him back, but only if the number one wants him back. Even I’m bound by the rules.”

  “Don’t pull that,” Jophiel hissed. “If you couldn’t interfere, you wouldn’t have kicked him out to begin with. You never wanted him back—just admit it.”

  Samael chuckled. “You’re not wrong. I don’t think he belongs in Dead End. But you convinced a piece of me. And so, we’re at an impasse. The best solution? Let the top decide. If Uriel wins, he gets what he wants—including Adriel’s return. But if Fafniel wins… Adriel stays out. And Fafniel gets his wish.”

  Uriel smirked, clenching his fist. “Guess I’ve got extra motivation now.”

  “You think I’d let you win and waste a wish?” Fafniel scoffed, stepping forward

  A clash of ideologies loomed in the silence.

  Uriel stood for the belief that the strong bore a duty to shield the weak. Fafniel, in stark contrast, saw the weak as burdens—unworthy of time or mercy.

  They faced each other, the weight of their convictions crackling in the air like static.

  Both took their stances, muscles coiled, eyes locked.

  Samael raised his hand. “Begin!” he roared.

  Both fighters stayed still, unusually calm. Fafniel, taking Samael’s warnings seriously, planned to end it quickly. Uriel analysed him, watching his stance, his breathing, every subtle twitch.

  \After circling each other for a while, Uriel struck first. A stomp ignited a geyser of fire beneath Fafniel, but Fafniel had already moved. Uriel surged forward, looking to chain attacks—only to find empty air.

  Fafniel smirked and slammed a palm into Uriel’s chest, launching him backwards.

  “Not bad, Uriel. But not good enough.”

  The crowd gasped—except Samael, who wore a knowing smile.

  Uriel stood, brushing off dust. “Not bad attack. Still not good enough.”

  Fafniel’s brow furrowed. What? No damage? That’s impossible.

  He unleashed a barrage of shockwaves—Uriel slipped between them with uncanny ease.

  So, that’s a dud, too? Fafniel narrowed his eyes. What about this one?

  He activated:

  [Acts Reversal. Genesis. Numbers. Leviticus. Ecclesiastes. Lamentations. Romans: Absolute Godspeed – Multiple Ice Explosions]

  Frost detonated around Uriel in a destructive storm. Uriel weaved through the chaos with fluid motion.

  So he’s not invincible…good to know, Fafniel smirked, continuing his assault.

  Uriel pushed in, dodging again as he gritted his teeth. This is bad, I can’t use my ability on attacks this fast—I need to get close.

  But Fafniel wasn’t having it. He took to the skies, circling out of reach.

  “Smart. But I’m smarter,” Uriel growled.

  He summoned towering pillars of flame, cutting off escape routes.

  “You’re trying to force me into close quarters? I won’t let you.” Fafniel snarled, blasting condensed shockwaves at him.

  Uriel dodged and closed the gap.

  Fafniel grinned, then snapped his fingers. Condensed omnidirectional shockwaves surround Uriel.

  In Fafniel’s mind, he had already won, but as they got closer to Uriel, they inexplicably slowed in mid-air.

  Fafniel’s eyes widened as he realised his movements were slowed too. He swiftly attempts to use [Isaiah X Ecclesiastes: Godspeed] to dodge, but he is too late; even his casting speed is slowed down too.

  Uriel seized the opportunity and slammed his fist into Fafniel’s face, sending him crashing to the floor. Before he could rise—

  Uriel descended like a comet, just missing a knee to the skull.

  Fafniel rolled back, eyes blazing, and retaliated:

  [Genesis x Judges x Isaiah x Ecclesiastes x Numbers: Amplified Godspeed – Strengthened Spikes]

  Just as Uriel was about to continue his attack, spikes burst from the ground—Uriel barely dodged, one grazing his face. Unfazed, Uriel pressed forward, and more spikes emerged from the ground. Despite dodging most of them, Uriel sustained scratches in the process.

  "Not bad. Your spikes nearly took my head off, but they left nothing but scratches," Uriel commented, healing the scratches.

  Fafniel stood tall, his fractured cheekbone and crushed eye already healing. He breathed harder now, but wore a grin—he finally understood Uriel’s ability.

  Even with Godspeed, he’s still slightly faster when he manipulates my kinetic energy. That’s how he nullified my shockwaves… he’s not just dodging—he’s slowing them down and absorbing their force.

  Fafniel’s eyes narrowed. If I want to beat him, I’ll have to divide his focus—make it impossible for him to absorb everything at once.

  With a confident smirk, he took the gamble.

  Spikes erupted toward Uriel—this time enhanced with [Romans: Almighty Bomb], pushing their speed to a terrifying new level. Uriel’s eyes widened, but he dodged cleanly… until the main spike sprouted thinner, writhing branches mid-flight.

  A barrage of needles chased him through the air.

  Uriel weaved through them, but one opening was all Fafniel needed. A heavy strike slammed into Uriel’s head, sending him flying.Top of Form

  When did he—?

  Uriel’s thought was cut short as Fafniel blitzed forward, unleashing a storm of blows. Uriel countered, parrying expertly—until the ground split beneath him.

  Another spike shot upward, rotating.

  Instinctively, Uriel raised his left arm to block, but the spiralling force pierced through his reinforced defence, lifting him into the air. The spike surged toward his heart.

  Uriel's soul tensed, his core flaring.

  He activated his kinetic absorption at the last possible moment, halting the spike mere inches from his chest. Then, twisting midair, he barely avoided Fafniel’s follow-up kick and retaliated with a compressed beam of fire.

  The blast smashed Fafniel into the wall, triggering a massive explosion.