Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 515: Dealing with angels and heretic (II)

Chapter 515: Dealing with angels and heretic (II)

Ouroboros was not worried about killing the man. Thanks to the A.I. Chip, he knew precisely how much force to use to cripple but not kill, ensuring the angel remained alive. In the blink of an eye, the Depravita of Greed twisted his torso, generating a centripetal rush of destructive energy that snuffed out every spell hurtling his way. He then launched forward in a spine-rattling tackle that nearly split another angel—a woman with luminescent, shimmering wings—in two.

Rikochet, the Level 16 angel with magma-like wings, watched in wide-eyed horror. The ease with which this fiendish werewolf laid waste to his kin was staggering. Fear crept into Rikochet’s chest, seizing his heart, and a desperate thought sprang to mind. Raising his hand, he conjured a pulsating wave of molten magic, blasting a massive hole in the penthouse ceiling.

Without waiting to see if Ouroboros would follow, Rikochet shot upward through the newly formed opening and yelled down to his comrades, "Take to the sky! We’ll use our advantage of flight to stop him!"

Several angels followed his lead, flaring their wings and ascending more than a hundred meters above the high-rise, hoping to gain the upper hand. Their usual sense of superiority had been utterly shattered by the savage intruder, and their formation in the sky was hasty and panicked.

Meanwhile, Ouroboros had just crushed the spine of yet another angel when he turned his gaze upward. He watched the cluster of angels, now hovering like a flock of frightened birds near the remains of the tower’s roof. True, their ability to fly seemed like an advantage—most grounded foes would be forced to watch helplessly from below.

Rikochet felt a flicker of renewed confidence. His kin could pepper the werewolf with long-range magic from above, whittling him down. But what happened next defied all logic and left the angels more terrified than ever.

Beneath their stunned gazes, Ouroboros began to float upward as if gravity had simply ceased to apply to him. He did not flap any hidden wings or activate a visible artifact. Instead, he relied solely on his energy pool, warping gravitational forces to lift off. Horror dawned in the angels’ eyes as they realized they were facing a being of Sage-Tier Life Level!

The Depravita of Greed wasted no time exploiting their shock. An instant later, he appeared in front of a wide-eyed angel, severing the man’s limbs with a single swipe of his gleaming claws before smashing the rest of his body back toward the skyscraper. Shrieks erupted from the angels at the sight, and panic consumed what little remained of their morale. By fleeing into the sky, they had inadvertently trapped themselves in a more vulnerable position, lacking cover and struggling to coordinate a focused offense.

One by one, Ouroboros pursued them with merciless efficiency, dodging magical projectiles or nullifying spells with his destructive energy. Each time he closed in on an angel, he neutralized them with devastating strikes—shattering bones, tearing spines—yet carefully leaving them alive, albeit crippled. Their broken bodies slammed into the skyscraper’s upper floors, shattering windows and leaving trails of blood on the shattered concrete.

Somehow, whether by luck or perhaps by Ouroboros’s purposeful design, Rikochet had not yet been targeted. But the reprieve only intensified his horror as he witnessed his brethren being methodically taken down. The Guardian Angel’s eyes were wide with dread, his breathing ragged, sweat beading on his brow.

"What are those cowards doing?! Why aren’t they helping us?" Rikochet snarled through clenched teeth. There were many more angels in the city, along with hundreds of thousands of human soldiers loyal to them. Yet not a single one had come to aid in this battle. Surely they had seen the tower’s destruction, heard the thunderous booms... so why did they not intervene?

His question was answered the moment he looked down. An army of ten thousand warriors in black armor poured through the city’s shattered walls. They advanced like an unstoppable wave, leaving devastation in their wake. Rikochet recognized at once that these were no ordinary soldiers. Their discipline and sheer killing intent were on a different scale altogether—remorseless, highly trained, and fueled by a power that dwarfed that of the city’s heretic human defenders.

The heretic humans under angelic command might have outnumbered the black-armored warriors by twenty to one, but numbers amounted to nothing here. Rikochet watched, aghast, as squads of his once-proud loyalists were cut down almost instantly. Those who tried to surrender were, surprisingly, spared—though roughly subdued—but any who dared fight back were annihilated without mercy.

For members of the Xaos Civilization, humans who willingly became lapdogs of alien conquerors were the lowest form of traitor. Killing them weighed little on their conscience.

Amid all this carnage, angels who were not in the penthouse found themselves quickly neutralized, struck by well-coordinated offensives, and subdued by specialized equipment. Rikochet saw, to his mounting horror, how meticulously the black-armored invaders captured his kin alive. The enemy evidently planned to take them back to wherever they came from.

In mere minutes, all of Rikochet’s grand designs lay in ruins. The city that he had built up over many years—believing it would bring him closer to a God’s favor—now collapsed around him like a house of cards. The powerful walls, once his pride and joy, lay shattered. The terrified citizens were no longer cowering under angelic dominance but scrambling away from a new, far more potent threat.

Suddenly, Rikochet felt a crushing grip on his throat. Spinning around, he found himself face-to-face with Ouroboros, whose emotionless lupine eyes glowed with the same destructive energy that had decimated everything in his path. Before Rikochet could utter a plea or conjure a spell, the fiendish werewolf twisted, snapping the angel’s neck in two.

Agony flooded Rikochet’s body, but the severing of his spine, though crippling, did not kill him outright. His limbs went limp, and his vision blurred as he struggled to form a coherent thought. With that single, brutal motion, the Depravita of Greed had shattered his last vestige of hope.