"What do you think?"
"Angel," whose eyes were now entirely filled by purple irises and whose long hair writhed around her like a nest of snakes, answered with a smile. The charm she released in that instant made even the petrified clay puppets turn toward her, and even Medici, the Angel of War, fell into a momentary daze.
But he had anticipated the utterly unreasonable allure of a High Sequence Witch. He immediately recovered, dissolved into countless Fire Crows, and flew downward, evading the grayish-white power spreading from the void—a power that could petrify everything and make stone harder still.
Yet meteorites had already formed in the air. Trailing long tails of flame, they swept past Angel, whose ever-lengthening hair had become a sea of fire covering the entire ruins, and hurtled downward.
For an instant, Medici, who had fought in countless wars and even battles between gods, felt the illusion that he was powerless to stop this apocalypse.
But he was also the proud Red Angel. As a fellow Sequence 1, he would not be frightened by such a minor spectacle.
He raised his right hand, clad in a black iron gauntlet, and closed his fingers. Most of the falling meteorites changed course on their own, colliding and shattering into fragments incapable of harming him. The few that escaped crashed onto the mausoleum below, their force shared through Gathering of Crowds. The buildings inside shook constantly, but suffered no significant damage.
The War Fog spreading through the canyon also fought against the velvet-like curtain formed by Black Flame. Storms, lightning, and fire surged within it, countering the arrival of natural catastrophe with the power of war.
Inside, masses of clay puppets kept emerging from the cliffs on either side and charging into the black torrent of flame, one after