The War Angel leader's words made the Angel King pale with shock.
He looked at the War Angel leader in surprise. "So all this time, you've seen me as a dictator? I did all this for the Angel Race! Is it wrong to make the Angel Race the strongest race in this world?"
The War Angel leader gave a bitter smile. "It isn't wrong. That's why so many Angels follow you."
"But every Angel has thoughts of their own. Not all Angels want to rule this world, and we don't want to be tools for you to rule it."
"Even if you kill me today, I will still say this: the Angel Race can be powerful, but it cannot become a war machine. Every Angel is an independent life with a will of their own, not a tool in your hands."
The Angel King nodded. "I understand. So it was only ever wishful thinking on my part. I thought the Angel Race would always agree with my ideas."
"Enough. I'm tired, too. Live as you see fit!"
Utterly exhausted, the Angel King stepped into his temple and vanished.
He truly was tired.
He had spent his entire life striving for the Angel Race to rule this world, yet he had never expected the first to betray him to be his own people.
All the Fallen Angels were the same. They were sick of war, sick of endless campaigns.
Every Fallen Angel was striving to pursue a life of their own, rather than be a puppet, a tool.
Perhaps the Abyssal Will had indeed played a considerable role, but in truth, it had merely guided them, magnifying the Angel Race's discontent until it finally succeeded in making them fall.
Disheartened, the Angel King vanished into the God King's hall.
The War