Being Weaker Doesn't Mean You're Stronger Than Me

Inside the great hall, Serpent Eyes contracted sharply amid the shifting light and darkness. He instinctively spread his arms forward, materializing Medusa's Shield from a Magic Formation and holding it before himself.

The cruciform greatsword, wrapped in blazing crimson flames, slammed into the shield. A piercing clash of metal erupted as the exquisite miniature sand table shattered apart.

Dust drifted through the air. Samael, who bore the brunt of the blow, slid back dozens of meters and staggered onto the throne. His face turned pale, and amid violent coughing, a trace of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

"You really are badly injured..."

Amid the low murmur, a tall, elegant figure stepped into the hall. He casually pulled down his hood, revealing bright golden hair and a handsome face. Behind him, six blazing white wings slowly flapped, while the crimson cross sword in his hand pierced the floor, scattering fiery feathers.

Cross Star Pupils opened and closed in Samael's eyes as he pursed his lips and stared at the newcomer.

"God of Light, Mithra? Where is your master, Ahura? Or should I call him—Jehovah..."

"To speak the Lord's name directly is blasphemy! A capital crime!"

The handsome golden-haired youth looked furious. His gemlike eyes seemed to burn, and the halo behind him blazed like the scorching sun. A fierce Aether Storm swept through the hall.

"Born of fire, its source is flame, its might is light. Born from divine will, it is one who resembles God..."

Samael coldly watched the radiant figure below the throne and murmured in a ghostly voice.

"Child of Light, Right Hand of God, Vice-Monarch of Heaven... With so many titles, what should I call you? Michael?"

The handsome youth below the throne changed expression slightly, but his gaze soon sharpened, and a grim,