"Someone go and report to the commander that a six-winged angel and a wingless angel have appeared at the eastern entrance!" barked a stern-looking Devil, his hands moving in a specialised pattern, causing the surrounding to raise their weapons in their direction.
"Stop right there before we strike you down. If you surrender and give us all the information in your brain, we'll let you live!" shouted a pompous and arrogant Devil, absolutely sure of his might within his small mind.
Ratella stopped as he commanded, withdrawing the lance from his scabbard strapped to one of his wings. Drawing a line in the dirt below, incurring the harsh gazes from the Devils, his casual attitude irritated the pompous band of Devils.
Olivia made no movement to reach for the ebony blade strapped to her hip, leaving the desolation of the camp to him. Making no sign of aid to him unless he asked for her help, but he didn't think she would comply with his request. Luckily, he needed no such help; there was a sign of overwhelming power within the camp. His presence here wasn't personal to the Devils; it was only a means to an end to gain influence with Kathoros' military.
"Excuse me, is there a Sin hiding in this encampment?" asked Ratella, putting on a graceful display for the guards, showing off his beauty, trying to sway their minds toward treason by beauty alone.
"Even if there was a Sin in this encampment, we wouldn't tell you, no matter how much you ask, angelic scum!"
Ratella grew closer to the Devils with each step, their caution and murderous intent only growing as they drew closer.
"If you just go away, I'll let you live; there is no reason to kill rank and file weaklings," declared Ratella, no ounce of deceit in his words, but they didn't have the desired effect, only invoking more fury from the Devils.
"Do not demean us, you scum. I'll slash you to ribbons!"
A single Devil charged at him, his sword already moving in a slashing pattern wildly, the bloodlust in his mind becoming unstable by the slight provocation. His companions didn't reinforce his attack, leaving him by himself, either confident in his abilities or using his death as a learning opportunity into Ratella's fighting style.
He thrust the lance outwards at the lazily guarding soldiers at inconceivable speed, their power gap becoming apparent at the attack. The training with Orion had refined his skill with the blade and lance, as well as his understanding of the Edict's many applications.
The lance annihilated the Devil's puny horns, and his skull impaled him through the head, raising his body for the guards to see. Using the arrogant Devil's death as a warning to the others.
The smarter of the Devils turned tail and ran away, able to grasp the difference in their strength. The same couldn't be said for the rest, who charged at Ratella, their naivety and stupidity becoming apparent to him.
"Go away, annoying pests," muttered Ratella, barely catching the ear of a couple charging Devils, only furthering their decline into the poisonous bloodlust circling their brains.
There were three in total, charging for his life, looking to avenge their friend, still impaled upon his lance, on full display.
He concentrated the divinity flowing around his veins into his wings, morphing them into perfect weapons for slicing into arrogant pests. He slashed outwards with the wings, cleaving his attackers in two, their lifeless forms thudding to the ground.
"Why are some Devils so arrogant and confident in their strength? At least the others know how to assess an opponent and run away, even if they are weaklings. Lower-class Devils are such pests like vermin prone to losing their minds at the slightest provocation," ranted Ratella to himself, slashing outwards, wiping the blood clean from his wings, withdrawing his lance from the man's skull.
"Mhm, I've never thought about using my wings as weapons before. Cool," mumbled Olivia, following behind him timidly as he entered the camp, clutching Memaru in her hands, guarding him from any stray attacks.
"Please guard Memaru while I take out the camp. Shield his eyes from the bloodshed, animal or not; such imagery will stay in his mind."
Olivia did as he said, nodding along with Ratella's words. Memaru protested the action, using his small claws to try to pry a gap between Olivia's hands, but her overwhelming strength made it impossible.
Ratella's overall power had grown substantially over the past eight months, thanks to his grueling, tiring training routine with Orion, which offered no rest beyond a short nap, interrupted by Liliana's body crushing his own, treating him like a personal bed. He had regretted his decision to offer himself as a bed, but he was too proud to pull back his words.
He cringed at the memory every time.
Olivia walked farther into the camp, in the opposite direction of Ratella, wandering among the tents and improvised buildings. She was largely ignored by the soldiers, who saw Ratella as the greatest threat, as he cut down the charging soldiers working their way to the commander's crimson-and-lilac-adorned tent. The distinct colours of Faravos.
Eventually, a river of corpses lined his path towards the main tent, the higher sphere Devils being nothing short of fodder to get him back into the life full of murder that war requires.
The higher sphere Devils guarding the camp had routed by the time he reached the elegant tent misplaced in the field of white and brown tents. Thinking their resistance to be pointless, considering the valley of corpses all slashed to ribbons by his wings. The commander of this encampment had been abandoned by his soldiers, leaving him defenseless; whether a Sin or not, they would meet the same fate.
Death.