The two finished the last of the bread just as Gluttony's looming figure entered, interrupting their meal. He sat down, turning a chair around to face them, his aversion and blatant hatred clear in both his gaze and his mannerisms.
Gluttony dwarfed Ratella over two times his height, his teeth jagged and a haunting smile plastered on his face. Seeing the three of them as nothing but the next meal, his hatred stemmed from the lost manpower.
A flurry of scars riddled the man's exposed chest, blood painted onto his mouth and chest. They had apparently interrupted his meal, not bothering to clean himself off, displaying it as a trophy, and invoking fear in the weak-willed.
It was unfortunate that his opponents weren't so easily swayed by fear.
"Look what we have here. Two chickens are perfect for my consumption. If you surrender without resistance, I'll let you die without suffering," exclaimed Gluttony, laughing to himself, sure of his victory. The earlier soldiers' behaviour was explained by their commander's pompousness and arrogance.
"That creature looks delicious, a perfect appetiser to my meal. I'll start with the dragon cub, then the woman and finally you."
Gluttony's meaty finger drifted through the air, pointing towards everyone in the room. Olivia clutched onto Memaru defensively, protecting it with her invisible wings, ensuring no harm would come to the creature, leaving the desolation of Gluttony purely in Ratella's hands.
Memaru began to hiss at the brute, issuing hollow threats to the duo holding overwhelming power. Memaru had already grown trusting of the two, letting Olivia hold him without protest.
"You stupid weakling, don't make that hideous noise in my direction!" shouted Gluttony, slamming his fist against the table, cracking it slightly, although this didn't quiet Memaru's hissing, only increasing its volume.
Ratella was beginning to grow tired of the repeated attitude of the camp's natives, all acting high and mighty even in the face of a superior. Their mindset is completely blinding them to the massive power imbalance between them.
He slashed down with two of his wings, intending to cleave the Sin in half, but his target didn't land, only managing to slice the chair in two. Not a trace of blood on his wings.
"I missed?"
"I think I'll eat those wings first instead," roared Gluttony, appearing behind Ratella, grasping onto his wings, trying to pull them off completely.
His efforts bore no results, no matter how hard he pulled. Nothing happened, not an inch of movement. Ratella twisted the smaller wings on his head backwards, sharpening their edges, plunging them into the brute's chest, causing him to lose his grip on the wings and freeing Ratella from his grasp.
Gluttony cried in pain, stumbling backwards at the unexpected pain filling his nerves, distracting him from Ratella's movements for a second, allowing him to turn around, planting a kick into the brute's chest, throwing backwards, crashing through the wall and landing outside.
He followed the man outside, where he saw hundreds of guards gathered, awaiting orders to encircle the building and wait for their commander's confirmation.
Their faces twisted with confusion at their commander being put on the back foot. A couple walked to aid him, but were stopped by Gluttony's fist striking the air above him, signalling the soldiers to stand down.
"I've never been hit with such power before! It's exhilarating, but I won't allow myself to lose in front of my men. As a matter of fact, I won't be hit again!"
"Your confidence is disgusting, a blatant insult to the strong."
Ratella's mind was made up at Gluttony's words; he would embarrass the arrogant commander in front of his men, destroying the flawless image in all of their heads. The confidence only infuriated Ratella. The kick wasn't his full strength, not strengthened by divinity, but still managing to bruise the Sin.
"You dare speak of me in such a manner! Don't get cocky, you managed to land a single hit."
Gluttony charged at him, punching viciously towards his direction. The strikes had power behind them, but were nothing special. Their pattern was a mechanical combination of the same techniques, overlapping.
Ratella slipped the attacks easily, already learning their pattern, memorising them and shackling them to the confines of his mind. With this act, Gluttony was already defeated; he would never get to taste anyone's flesh after Ratella finished humiliating him.
Gluttony's face was growing concerned by his attack's inability to land, not even grazing Ratella's flesh. Twisting into one of annoyance, furthering into a rage, making his attacks wild but still avoidable to the false Seraphim.
Ratella concentrated the majority of divinity in his blood, and his legs dashed to the other end of the makeshift arena, the border being made of soldiers, their weapons out, not allowing anyone to leave.
Gluttony hurriedly looked around the arena, locking eyes with Ratella again after his sudden disappearance.
"Do you still wish to fight, or are you going to attack me wildly? If you surrender, I'll offer you a swift end."
"You won't beat me that easily! I'm not so weak as to give in to vague threats holding no intent behind them!"
"You're wrong. You are that weak, nothing but a festering rat spreading the Sin of Gluttony. Being a beast isn't something to be proud about."
"I am Gluttony! Not some weak insect as you suggest, I'll show you the true heights of my might!"