Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 907 - 845 Angel Falls

The high-speed movement of the air stung his skin—a personal quirk of George’s, perhaps, as he enjoyed flying without protection. Every exertion heightened his sense of danger, and George believed it was necessary to maintain a sharp awareness of risk. Ever since he became the leader of the Crusaders, it had been a long time since he’d felt injured.

Emerging from blood and filth, the Inquisitor Legion channeled their grievances toward the Angels. With a mocking twist of his lips directed at his legion commander, George Edmund flew back to his homeland, to the camp where his brothers temporarily resided.

Whipping up whirlwinds to topple trees, casually igniting flames, corpses of the Alien Race burned into ash among the kindling—not unfamiliar work at all. Within about twenty minutes, Saint George flew back to the Frontier Town, where the fortress bridge built by craftsmen had been completed. In an open space encircled by walls, several white-robed priests preached to a crowd in tattered clothes. The people had dark skin, thin builds, but bright eyes, their solemn attitudes while listening to the scriptures mirroring their reverence during pre-meal prayers.

Guarding the frontlines, exterminating the Alien Race occupying the land, building towns, gathering the sufferers dwelling in the nearby wilderness, providing food and water, spreading faith, teaching agriculture and survival—the People summoned by the Holy Light built new civilizations with their own hands. The Crusader Legion pushed the frontlines forward, initiating yet another cycle of civilizational sowing.

Human territories expanded across this chaotic world, and the Crusaders basked in glory for their conquests. The four Paladins who served as leaders were revered by the people as though divine beings. George Edmund did not enjoy such treatment—being placed on a pedestal, held as an exemplar. What they desired were saints, but the Angel of Fire would never compromise himself to cater to praise. As Crusader leaders, Angels embodied humanity with their flawed characters. Their growing differences, inflated by their increasing power, would one day split into blood-soaked wounds—a prospect that deeply unsettled George.

Gallaron’s demands and Raymond’s instability—these issues quietly influenced George, so he left before the magical beast crusade concluded. He handled the extermination of the chief instigator while the Inquisitor Legion dealt with the cleanup. Compared to the relatively insignificant Alien Demons, he was far more bothered by the giant spoiled brats at home, spoiled by their unchecked freedom and habits, George thought to himself.

As he slowed down before entering the city’s defensive perimeter, people noticed the Angel of Fire’s figure and cheered loudly. The Guardian Knights defending the city stood stoically to greet him, their fiery gazes making George feel uneasy. Landing directly on the raised platform, his radiant wings dissipated, and he disregarded the priests’ attempts to keep him, pushing open the chapel doors and stepping inside.

The church’s long rows of benches on either side were empty. Ever since the Crusader leaders temporarily resided here, the priests and believers had voluntarily moved elsewhere, building small chapels in other places. The Legion Knights preferred staying in the barracks. Over time, fewer and fewer people remained around them, though fortunately, the friendship among the Four Angels had not changed—they still gathered to play those foolish games they used to play when young.

Raphael kneeled on the ground, with four Holy Swords hovering behind him, praying devoutly—not toward the tall Angel statue resembling him at the chapel’s center, but to the isolated Confession Room. The curtain of the Confession Room was pulled closed, and a voice came from within.

George stepped forward.

"Those craftsmen must be crying their hearts out. The statue they sculpted for the Angel of Earth couldn’t even get his approval."

Raphael turned and gave the Angel of Fire a radiant smile.

"I’m praying, asking the Holy Light for guidance. It feels more effective to seek Big Brother Raymond than to trust myself."

George lightly punched him on the head.

"Relying on that fraud is worse than relying on yourself. Fighting works better than praying any day."

George Edmund had always been a troublemaker since childhood, and he had little reverence for the Angel of Light. Sneaking closer to the Confession Room, the Angel of Fire eavesdropped on the Angels’ confessional dialogue.

A gentle voice spoke: "I envy my brother. I envy his strength, his brilliance that shines like the sun. Whenever I face him, I feel shame and inferiority. The unwillingness and humiliation explode within my chest. I often harbor dark thoughts toward him. I feel guilty; my conscience tells me this is wrong, yet my emotions remain unchanged. Holy Light, can I be forgiven? Can a soul that bears hatred toward his brother ever receive redemption?"

Another confident voice replied: "Of course, Gall... my brother! The pursuit of strength is innate to us as humans. Striving to live better is always right! Your jealousy and unwillingness are unavoidable, because I... that Angel of Light is indeed a mighty and proud figure. Surely, you’re not the only one harboring resentment toward the Angel of Light. He wouldn’t despise anyone simply for the shadows in their hearts. Human relationships aren’t maintained by pure emotions but by actions. None of us are flawless; we must learn to embrace others’ merits while accommodating their flaws. You’ve done admirably by exposing your grievances directly, my brother."

George stopped listening; their candid exchange was more nauseating than the sweetest love whispers between lovers. He returned to the long bench, crossed his legs, and hummed an out-of-tune folk song unrecognizable in the sanctity of the chapel.

At dusk, his brothers finally emerged from the drawn curtains. Dashing and elegant men walked side by side, radiant smiles on their faces, the divine glow emitted from their bodies causing George to squint. The taller and more robust one spread his arms and strode briskly toward George.