The angel called Tismy was in no hurry to make a move. She signaled for her subordinates to spread out and surround Finandel on the ground, then shook her head and said:
"Dell, look at you. After losing Military Authority, you only have this many people left, and every one of them is low on morale. What are you using to pursue this so-called fairness?"
The short-haired angel on the ground sighed, but gripped her greatsword even tighter. She had no intention of backing down. The only reason she had not attacked immediately was out of consideration for their old friendship.
"Tismy."
The angel flapping her wings in the sky sneered and dove down with a slash, sending dirt flying everywhere.
Finandel leaped back and dodged it. The one who had landed also gave chase, then tilted her head and said in a deliberately affected tone:
"What did you call me? Is Tismy something you're allowed to call me? You traitor, address me as General."
The former angel general, whose wings had been scorched somewhat black, could only launch a counterattack. It seemed fighting was unavoidable. The Golden Greatsword traced a breathtaking arc as it cleaved down toward her former colleague's head. "You don't deserve to be called a general. You understand nothing at all!"
With a boom, Tismy raised her weapon and caught the attack, gritting her teeth as the two began to wrestle for dominance.
The leaves of the surrounding plants rustled loudly under the shockwave's gusts. Sparks crackled from where the two weapons ground together. Her face twisted as she leaned close to Finandel's, reciting the lines the Queen's orders had instructed her to say.
As for how the Queen's orders had predicted what Finandel would say, and why the instructions given to her were so specific,