60: Reclaiming Hope (XVII)

Sanguinius descended from the sky.

He neither held back his strength nor slowed his speed, but landed at full force. In the past, such a thing would have been impossible.

As for the reason? One only had to glance at his surroundings to find the answer—the shattered ground, the dozens of humanoid skeletons blown away by the violent shockwave.

They had realized his arrival several seconds earlier. After all, he had made no attempt to conceal himself, streaking across the heavens like a golden meteor. But they had never imagined that he could be this fast.

You know so little of me, he thought.

Tens of thousands of tiny stones burst outward in every direction, yet to the Angel's eyes, they moved so slowly they were almost frozen. He straightened, gripped his sword in both hands, and casually swept it sideways, reducing the stones—and the targets they had been about to strike—to ash.

After Belisarius Cawl's special modifications, the disintegration field possessed several times its former output. Now, it did not even need to truly touch a target to crush it into nothingness.

It was an exceedingly dangerous and radical modification. No swordsman who held reverence for weapons should ever do such a thing to his own blade, but Sanguinius was different.

He was different. He had been born different.

His wings rose high as a second shockwave arrived close behind. A terrible explosion suddenly rang out in the air, and a power longsword with its disintegration field disabled plunged deep into the ground.

When it was pulled free, its excessive speed and force caused flames to briefly ignite along its steel blade.

Though they lasted only an instant, they were still dazzling. Yet they were merely a footnote to violence, an incidental byproduct, and soon vanished entirely.

Two seconds.