· Mature Woman with White Hair

Silver-white hair fell to his shoulders, framing a breathtaking face with mismatched eyes of gold and silver. Nine pairs of golden wings beat ceaselessly behind him, and a silver-white battle dress wrapped perfectly around his proud figure, giving off an impression that was majestic yet faintly sensual.

"Lord Artosh?"

Jibril blinked her big eyes at the silver-haired mature woman before her and asked in a tone threaded with uncertainty. After all, this version of Artosh, combined with Jibril's memories of him, was simply strange to the extreme.

"Mm? What is it, Jibril?"

Artosh lowered his head slightly and looked at Jibril. He had already known about the changes to himself when he revived, but as an Old Deus, he did not care much. To him, gender was nothing more than an appearance. In essence, he was still the same Artosh, the God of War.

"Lord Artosh, how did you become like this?"

Beside them, Azriel stepped forward and asked cautiously. After all, the former Artosh had always appeared in an incomparably powerful male form, yet now he had become like this.

"When I revived, the One True God Tet tampered with me, which caused me to take this form. But it is no great matter. It is merely the outward appearance of the flesh. I am still myself."

After saying that, Artosh slowly descended beside Azriel, then raised his head to look at the many Flügel gathering toward them in the plaza. Seeing such a great number of Flügel, a trace of confusion could not help but appear in Artosh's eyes.

Back when he had created the Flügel, he had merely treated them as weapons for Godslayer. Logically speaking, after his death, most of the Flügel should have died along with him. Yet now, almost all of the Flügel were