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Chapter 36: Chains and Stances

  “Wait.”

  Samael’s voice froze Gabriel mid-step.

  “My friend here begged me to help you. I will—on one condition.”

  A glint lit Gabriel’s eyes. He paced back toward the cage. “I’ll do anything. Want me to defend you? Force the others to treat you better? I have to know how I lost.” His voice cracked with hunger.

  “I can smell the desperation,” Samael said, mocking. Jackiel barked a warning, but Samael’s grin only widened.

  Gabriel forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Just tell me what you want.”

  Samael’s smile thinned. “I don’t want advocacy. I want freedom — or at least usefulness.”

  Gabriel gave a dry laugh. “Even if I swore it, I don’t have the power.”

  “Michael does. And I recall teaching you how to beat him. Did I not?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “But nothing…” Samael’s eyes flash red for a split second. “When you gain the power, promise me this: no matter what happens, never give me the death penalty. Swear it.”

  Both Gabriel and Jackiel stiffened. Silence stretched until Gabriel finally nodded.

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. Tell Uriel to visit me.”

  Gabriel’s smile returned. “I expected that. And if he refuses?”

  “Then tell him this: To advance, master stance switching.”

  “Fine.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Now tell me how Asmodiel beat me.”

  Samael’s grin sharpened. “He used a Heavenly pact.”

  Gabriel stopped cold. “A pact? You can force one?”

  “Yes, if you are clever enough,” he replied smoothly. “Asmodiel’s talent aids him in this endeavour.”

  “How?”

  “His talent allows him to accelerate particles along the narrative of time, moving them back or forth. He reads the currents of motion before you make them and forces a pact with that knowledge in mind.”

  “That is…impressive,” Gabriel admitted. “So, how do I beat him?”

  “He is a tricky opponent who generally uses two tactics. Each tactic requires a different strategy. The first is cautious, like Michael. The second is aggressive, like I am. Against my style, drag it out, bleed his stamina. Against Michael’s bait mistakes and punish them.”

  “That’s not what I want to hear. I want to know how to counter his instantaneous Territory and constant Divine Flashes.”

  Jackiel’s eyes went wide. That’s possible?

  “To counter Divine Flashes, you simply need to deflect them. For the instantaneous Territory, you need to shut down his pacts. To do this, use Proverbs: The Lord’s Wisdom in short bursts to figure out the requirements for a pact and counter them with one of yours.

  Gabriel barked a laugh. “That’s all I needed. Now I can win.”

  “You should still train him, you know.”

  Gabriel scoffed, “Of course you know about that. Why should I train that cocky brat?”

  “So you can learn from him and help train the next generation so we don’t have to bury more of them.”

  Gabriel’s face softened. “Fine, I’ll train him.”

  “You should also train your sister; she would appreciate it.”

  “I will. The next generation must surpass us. I’m tired of going to their funerals. Goodbye, Samael.” He walked away.

  As he left, the white-haired man muttered with a grin, “Just a few more pieces to move and I will be free.”

  Jackiel chuckled. “Your students are impressive… maybe except one.”

  Samael gave him an annoyed look.

  “Too soon?” Jackiel asked.

  “Of course it is.”

  They laughed, trading old war stories.

  Gabriel walked to Uriel’s door. Inside, his fists tore through the air with brutal precision, and his breathing was rhythmic.

  He knocked, then the sound stopped.

  Uriel opened the door, sweat dripping from his brow. “Lord Gabriel? Is there anything wrong?”

  “You can drop the title; you are now an archangel,” Gabriel urged. “And to answer your question, there is nothing wrong. I just came to pass a message. Samael wants to see you.”

  Uriel’s face closed. “I won’t. Goodbye.” He tried to shut the door.

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  Gabriel stepped in and held it. “He guessed you’d say that. So, he told me to tell you ‘If you want to advance, master stance switching.’ Use it or don’t.”

  Uriel froze, staring. Gabriel left without another word.

  Alone, Uriel whispered the phrase again and again, until it settled into his soul like new muscle memory.

  The next day, Uriel, Asmodiel, and Leviel split off to train with their masters.

  The moment Uriel stepped into the training room, Metatron lunged. Uriel caught the strike mid-swing and slammed him into the golden floor.

  “Good,” Metatron grunted, rolling to his feet. “Always expect an ambush. Now, try to hit me.”

  Uriel slid into a boxer’s stance. His fists snapped out in a rapid-fire barrage. Metatron deflected each one with ease—until Uriel shifted. He leapt back, switched to a karate stance, and blitzed forward. His hopping sidekick landed flush on Metatron’s guard, blasting him across the ring.

  Metatron skidded but steadied. Uriel pressed. Wide stance for power, then narrowing for speed, his footwork a blur.

  Metatron vaulted high, raining down ice spears like hail. Uriel slipped between them, widening his stance before launching upward with explosive speed. He twisted midair, dodging projectiles, then snatched Metatron’s leg out of the sky.

  A sickening slam rattled the ceiling.

  “I’m not done.” Uriel whipped him down, crashing him into the floor.

  Metatron rolled and landed on his feet, only to meet Uriel’s descending axe kick. He barely dodged, countering with a superman punch that was caught in Uriel’s iron grip.

  Uriel twisted his wrist, yanking him forward. Metatron fired a teep to the midsection, but Uriel sidestepped, hooked the leg, and lifted him clean off the ground.

  His eyes widened as Uriel slammed him again. Uriel flowed into side control, wrenched his ankle, and snapped it. He grabbed Metatron’s right arm and, with a sharp crank, he broke his shoulder with a Kimura lock.

  Metatron grunts, and Uriel proceeds to full mount, fist poised an inch from Metatron’s face.

  He froze, breath ragged. The ferocity, the seamless stance switches. He saw Samael in Uriel’s movements. Aeons ago, Samael used the same sequence Uriel used to win.

  He gazed at Uriel, seeing the image of a younger Samael, and he was filled with joy.

  Uriel eased back and extended a hand. “Again. This time, no restraints.”

  The oldest angel healed his wounds with a glow of light, then nodded.

  They squared off once more.

  Elsewhere, Michael drilled Leviel, honing her speed and strength while making her keep a cool head. In between drills, he showed her the angelic mana nodes so she knew where to attack.

  “You’re progressing fast,” he admitted, watching her mimic his strikes. “At this rate, you’ll surpass your brother.”

  “Thank you, teacher. One day, I’ll surpass even you.”

  Michael scoffed. “Then you’ll need far harsher training.”

  “I know. That’s why I want to join Dead End, just like my brother.”

  The name darkened his expression. “I don’t understand why you angels always want to train with Samael. He is a terrible teacher who barely even trained us.”

  “It’s because his squad is the strongest and the most skilled, and Dead End is superior to that,” Leviel explained. “Not only that, but members of Dead End are guaranteed a place among the archangels. That’s what every angel wants.”

  Michael’s jaw tightened. “There are other paths. Earn the spot the old way.”

  “That wouldn’t work. No one can outmatch any Dead End member in a contest of skill,” she said bluntly.

  Michael chuckled bitterly. “Strange, isn’t it? Samael murders one of our own, countless children, and yet angels still line up to follow him. I don’t understand. How do you forgive that?”

  Leviel’s answer was cold, precise. “We forgive because he’s irreplaceable. If you want him hated, shunned, executed. Make him replaceable.”

  The words struck Michael like a revelation. Slowly, a grin spread across his face. “Excellent advice. I’ll do just that.”

  Meanwhile, Gabriel sat cross-legged across from Asmodiel. Unlike the others, they didn’t start with fists. They started with questions.

  “I still can’t believe you reached this level just from Samael’s book,” Gabriel remarked.

  “It wasn’t just reading. I drilled every word until my soul broke. Then I drilled harder.”

  “Dedication,” Gabriel. “Rare among most angels.”

  “At first, it was revenge. Then it became survival. Then… strength enough for people to forget my family’s sins.”

  Gabriel sighed. “Your family’s sins aren’t easily forgotten. Betrayal. Murder. Pride.” He shook his head. “Your father especially. He was clever, but he thought he could get away with killing Zadikel. A foolish decision. I’m surprised you aren’t angry with Samael, considering how he killed him.”

  The jab made Asmodiel’s jaw tighten. He never spoke of it, but he had wept when his father fell.

  Gabriel leaned forward. “Before I train you, tell me. How did you match my speed with fried mana circuits? How did you make my leg explode?”

  “I forced a Heavenly Pact.”

  “I already know that. You’ll need to tell more than that.”

  Asmodiel hesitated, then explained. “Think of Law of the Land. But instead of Deuteronomy, I use pact seals to set hidden conditions the other fighter never notices.”

  Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “What condition did you set against me?”

  “That we share any chapter you invoked… while I sacrificed all techniques.”

  Gabriel blinked, then chuckled. “Clever bastard. And the second trick?”

  “That one… I was supposed to lose, but my future self sent me a warning that I would miss a Divine Flash, so I acted accordingly.

  Gabriel frowned. “You...rewrote your defeat? How?”

  “I forced a pact that shares my damage with you if your first attack was a kick with your left.”

  Gabriel sat back, impressed despite himself.

  Samael wasn’t wrong about him; he is a tricky opponent. I hate to admit it, but... his skills surpass mine.

  “And the instantaneous territory?”

  “With another Heavenly pact. I cut down the cast time by taking on more of the burden. Normally, that would weaken the sure-hit, but I set a condition: the shorter the territory, the stronger the sure-hit.”

  Gabriel smirked. “I see you made it superior to the original.” He rose. “Enough talk. Let’s test your precision and timing. Your target is my nose. You must hit it only once, but with a Divine Flash.”

  Asmodiel exhaled. That’s impossible. He knows where I’ll aim. Still, if I want to improve, I have to try.

  Gabriel closed the distance.

  Asmodiel’s fist darted for his nose, but Gabriel stopped just out of range, then countered with a gut punch. Asmodiel dropped to a knee, blood on his lips.

  “Did you think this would be easy?” Gabriel asked.

  Asmodiel clutched his guts, struggling to breathe. Damn, that attack took the wind out of me. Good thing I hesitated to use a Divine Flash, I would have been a goner. He staggered up and launched a storm of punches.

  Gabriel deflected each, then struck the same bruised gut. Pain flared, but Asmodiel forced through it, blood dripping from his mouth. He threw a looping right. Gabriel caught it and hurled him across the room.

  Asmodiel rolled to his feet, only to meet Gabriel’s flying knee, smashing his nose flat. The impact threw him into the golden wall.

  Stay down,” Gabriel advised.

  “I can’t,” Asmodiel gasped, healing even as he bled. “I won’t give up.”

  This time, his assault was varied: nose, ribs, legs, but Gabriel turned each strike aside. However, a sweep nearly clipped him.

  “Better. But still—” Gabriel’s words cut short as Asmodiel summoned a roaring fireball, fusing Genesis X Revelations: Absolute Divine Ender.

  It scorched the ring, forcing Gabriel to dodge exactly where Asmodiel wanted him. He lunged and launched a switch-kick, whipping toward Gabriel’s head.

  Gabriel moved his head in time, causing the kick to miss by inches. He snatched Asmodiel’s leg and swung him into the wall. Then he surged forward.

  Mana erupted inside Gabriel, and an aura burst forth from his eyes. His double jab detonated against Asmodiel’s head and chest, smashing him deeper into the gold and obliterating both targets.

  Gabriel stood over the ruin, staring at the golden sparks erupting from his hands. What is this power? His lips curled into a hungry grin. I want more.

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