"What?"
Deathstroke's words had clearly left Michael uncertain. He wanted to pull back, but Deathstroke had his weapon locked in a death grip, and the two remained deadlocked in midair.
Though he looked like a blonde little girl now, Deathstroke's voice was still that demon-like male voice. He laughed. "Where are your world-authority powers, Michael? According to my intelligence records, Lucifer holds six-sevenths of God's authority, while the remaining six archangels divide the last seventh. But what about your abilities? The Angels' signature powers—freezing time, reshaping the world, healing the dead and wounded—why don't you have any of them? Oh, because you were the real traitor, so God took back your authority, right?"
Su Ming realized he had overestimated Michael before. In the Bible's records, Michael had once defeated Lucifer. And in the comics he had read in his previous life, Michael had also served as commander and fought Lucifer in the Millennium War.
That had led Su Ming to place Michael on the same level as Lucifer, resulting in some misjudgment.
Yet in that brief exchange just now, he had already prepared himself to deal with the enemy's time-based abilities. He had even been ready to contend with the concepts of judgment and light. But there had been nothing.
Michael seemed to have nothing left but brute strength. He was still Multiversal Level, but that was all.
That was why Deathstroke laughed. It was nothing else—fallen Lucifer and Gabriel still retained their authority, yet Michael, who had stayed in Heaven, had lost the authority to alter the world. Su Ming had caught a glimpse of God's plan.
That old bastard had split himself into seven parts. It made him look weaker, but it also meant he now had seven lives.
Did the one behind the scenes think killing the