I created the Anomaly Control Bureau

Chapter 988. The Majesty of the God-King (Part 983)

The Throne Angel said solemnly:
“I had thought about who the Federation would send to find me, but I never expected it to be you, King of the Gods.”

Marx and Engels revealed an arrogant smile:

"Do you think the Federation has the guts to let mortals walk into your trap? They only dare to let an undead like me handle this situation. And since you touched my things in the Southern Federation, you should be prepared."

The angel's aged face held a hint of doubt:

"You knew it was a trap, yet you still walked into our territory without even trying to ambush me?"

Mar and Eng said with some amusement:
"Your territory? Where do you think this is?"

The angels' expressions remained solemn:

"Even if this is the Southern Federation, it doesn't mean you can do whatever you want. The one who returns is destined to be the true ruler of this world. You are all just false gods in front of Him."

"Moreover, since we dared to show ourselves in the Southern Federation, we naturally have ways to deal with you. Don't forget, your predecessor Seran also died not long ago, and he was a sun god far stronger than you."

"If he were still alive, perhaps the Cherubim wouldn't have chosen to act now."

At this point, the old angel paused, then looked at Marne earnestly and said:

“Sera, I’ve discussed this with the Cherubim, and we’ve decided to give you a chance. If you’re willing to switch sides with us now, we can reserve positions for you and your servants in the New World.”

"Not only your life, power, and freedom, but also your personality, we will not touch you. You can spend eternity there if you wish, and we are even willing to reward you for your help."

"How about it? This isn't a bad suggestion."

Marx and Engels smiled:
"Do not."

The Throne continued:

"There's no need to make a decision so hastily. Even if we clash today, you can think about it carefully when you get back. If you stand on the opposite side, you won't be able to bear the cost of failure. You will lose everything you have now, including eternity and immortality."

A hint of disdain flashed in Marx and Engels' eyes:

Why should I consider the cost of failure if I have no chance of losing at all?

“I can give you a chance. If you give up on advancing the prophecy now, I can temporarily forgive your foolish actions, and you can continue to lie low and patiently wait for my accidental death.”

"Only then will you have a chance of success."

Hearing such arrogant words, the Throne did not immediately refute them, but instead showed a thoughtful expression. After a moment, he finally spoke:
"There is nothing wrong with your proposal. It makes no difference to me whether it is now or thousands of years from now. On the contrary, as He said, it is all destined. But now the decision is not mine, but the Cherubim's."

"So I'm sorry, I also have to decline your offer."

Marx and Engels were not disappointed at all:

"very good……"

The Throne interrupted him, saying:
"But before you take action, please allow me to drive these mortals away from here. They don't need to lose their lives in our fight. However, if you want to use them to blackmail me, please give up that idea."

“Nothing is more important than His return.” Marne looked at him with some surprise:
"I didn't expect you to be so 'merciful'. Don't worry, I have no interest in crushing ants, and I don't need to use anyone to deal with you. However, they can leave here alive and tell other mortals."

"What will happen to me if I disobey in the Southern Federation?"

The Throne nodded:
"Thank you for your magnanimity..."

As he spoke, many angels began to carry the mortals away from the church, and countless holy lights flashed within the church. In just a few seconds, they all disappeared.

Only two angels remained standing in the distance.

boom!
The instant the mortal faces disappeared, the entire church suddenly burst forth with intense golden light, then transformed into the shape of a golden bell, and terrifying pressure instantly descended upon Marne.

Not moving.

Marne raised his head and could see the sky through the golden light, but the sun was no longer there; instead, there were white clouds and holy light, and the sound of solemn and beautiful string music drifting in the air.

At the same time, the bodies of the Thrones began to etherealize as if summoned, and floated upwards, accompanied by a shower of golden flames. Even Marne's body could feel a burning pain when it touched these flames.

Then, accompanied by a deafening roar like an earthquake, an angel standing in the distance suddenly spread his wings and flew toward him. His two slender wings quickly split into six thicker wings.

The angel's face gradually hardened and became handsome, golden light bursting from his eyes, a sharp sword rapidly taking shape in his hand, and raging flames erupting from his roar.

The longsword slammed towards Ma En, but was firmly blocked by the spear. With a metallic clang, the surrounding rain of flames quickly condensed, transforming into a giant snake that lunged at Ma En's back.

hum!
Marne easily deflected the Angel of Power with his spear. To Marne's disbelief, the sword shattered into pieces, and Marne quickly backed away to create distance between them.

Orange-red solar fire erupted from behind Marne, colliding violently with the flames that were trying to attack him.

At the same time, he raised his left hand towards the sky as if to grasp it.

The ascending angel suddenly froze in mid-air, its already translucent body gradually becoming more solid, as if it had been captured by some terrifying gravitational force.

"What is this?" the Archangel asked, looking at the spear in Marne's hand.

As he spoke, the blocked flames slowly transformed into an angel with six wings, her hair flowing in the air like flames, her eyes burning with golden-red fire.

The seraphim appeared behind him.

Marne casually shook his spear:
"These are your graves."

The ripped-off Throne stretched out its hands, embedding itself into the giant golden bell, barely stabilizing its swaying form, and then spoke:
"That spear can neutralize our power; we should keep our distance and fight him."

The Seraph spoke:
"Even if you have such weapons, you can't possibly be our match."

Marx and Engels laughed arrogantly:
"The Cherubim probably don't have enough power right now, so the three of you can't stop me."

With a calm expression, the Archangel once again used his divine power to forge a longbow:
"Under the curse of the Titans, you are no stronger than us, not even by a fraction. With the three of us attacking, this weapon cannot save your life."

Marx and Engels smiled:
"Who said this was a siege?"