"Are you lost?" asked Ratella, deeming the conflict to be unavoidable.
"Don't talk down to me, flightless bird," spat the one in the middle, his center wings flapping slightly. An obvious attempt at intimidation.
His third wing is attached to his left foot, covering it whole. Flapping it slightly, trying to bring his attention to it, attempting to sway Ratella's mind into servitude just at the sight of his superior power.
The basic premise of Kathoros was that the number of wings you had symbolized the latent potential and power deep within you.
An angel with one or two wings would be considerably weaker than one with three or four, as more wings allow for more divinity to be stored in its body.
Divinity is a golden liquid holding an aspect of God's power. Those with five wings are said to bleed gold due to the large amount coursing through their bodies.
"You are nothing but a wingless freak. I have three wings, meaning I am superior. Bow and kiss my feet, freak!"
The boy of at least twelve summers stood arms crossed, awaiting Ratella to submit to his power. His followers copied his stance and chuckled slightly.
Their blatant attempts to appease the boy were revolting. Ratella wouldn't submit just because he was told.
With his values clear in his mind, he never lets himself be humiliated, even when facing an overwhelming foe.
"Never!" shouted Ratella, causing scowls to appear on the boy's faces. "What's the point in a third wing anyway? You can't even use it to speed up your flight. It'll only slow you down."
Ratella wasn't sure whether this was true. He said whatever he thought might anger the boy, searching for an opening—using the boy's seething anger as a way to escape.
His shouts did indeed anger the boy, causing his face to flush scarlet as he seethed from the ears. His followers pondered his point, forgetting their supposed aversion to Ratella.
The leader of the three swiftly approached Ratella, using his wings to close the gap in seconds. Ratella, unable to react, was helpless as the boy grabbed the scruff of his shirt.
The other snapped out of their thoughts, filling in their leader's flanks and closing all escape routes.
"I'm Derek Elwood. You can't speak to me like that. I'm going to be one of the virtues!" barked Derek, lifting Ratella upwards, locking eyes with him. "Filthy bird, I'll teach you a lesson!"
Unbridled fury burned in his eyes, followed by a dangerous intensity that seemed to radiate from him like a raging inferno.
Unquenchable bloodlust.
His fist planted itself in between Ratella's eyes, knocking all sense out of him, his vision blurred, and a ringing sound bounced around his eardrums.
Derek released his grip, dropping Ratella to the ground. Unable to catch himself, he smashed into the earth below, further bruising his body.
"I don't think you've learned your lesson yet."
Derek's voice is now cold and detached, devoid of any sign of humanity.
Before he could regather his senses, Derek's left leg launched itself towards his head, striking him at an alarming speed.
His brain rattled inside his skull, robbing Ratella of all awareness.
He crumbled into a ball, trying his best to guard his body from any further damage as the boys repeatedly kicked at his small frame.
"I think he's had enough, Derek."
"Shut up! I'll say when he's had enough."
Eventually, Ratella succumbed to the ever-growing darkness that obscured his vision of the rising sun in the distance. The boys' kicks and punches did not slow for a moment despite his lack of consciousness.
Ratella's eyes flickered open, revealing the sun retreating back into the darkness of the night sky. Stars twinkling and casting their gaze upon him.
He picked himself up, his breath laboured, and the bones within his body screaming for mercy. A seething pain is inflicted with every movement.
A wet sensation ran down his mouth and nose, a warm feeling encompassing the flowing liquid.
He reached up with trembling fingers. Even hurt, he managed to swipe the liquid away, keeping it from moving any farther.
Looking down, its colour wasn't the usual crimson but a sparkling gold shimmering in the starlight.
Thoughts raced through his head at the unknown substance leaking from his nose and mouth, but he dismissed them all. His goal is clear: to reach the orphanage and find Tila.
Although in no condition to walk, he still pushed onwards towards the village. The road would be arduous to the boy, but he had made up his mind, and nothing would deter him from reaching that goal.
Pushing forth, he eventually got into view of the village, but its visage wasn't the same as before.
A six-winged figure hovering high above the village, two swords clenched in its fist.
Hobbling as fast as he could, Ratella managed to reach the entrance of the village.
A serene buzzing bounced around in his ear before being followed by an angelic, feminine voice. Its tone embodied peace and tranquillity, but Ratella knew better than to expect anything good from it.
"Under the Seraphic Ruler's decree, Nova has been deemed an undesirable civilization. All inhabitants are to be purged, and the village burned to ash. For crimes against the Choir and attempts at inciting a rebellion. I, Luna, the Radiances' blade, will deliver this verdict personally."
After her declaration, she disappeared from view, turning into thousands of particles gliding through the air at a terrifying pace. Delivering only death to the citizens, slicing through their forms with precision and efficiency.
Not wasting a single strike, extinguishing all traces of life. Ratella's eyes shook with confusion and panic. For a brief moment, an insurmountable terror overpowered all other emotions swelling within his mind.
A sea of crimson swiftly painted the town's cobble, turning the once peaceful village into a warning to all traitorous mongrels lurking in the shadows.