A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

If it is pinned down like this, the insect will break off on its own and bite back at the enemy.

Then one second passed, then two seconds passed...

"..." The angel priest's smile gradually disappeared.

Half a minute passed, and the centipede did not make a sound.

However, this alone was not enough to make the angel face reality.

He sprang up from the ground the moment Bray's sword was not at his neck.

The moment the angel priest rose, a hymn began to play, and the expanding circle shook back everything around it.

Poor Rector was blasted a long way away, crashing into the wall and spitting out a mouthful of blood.

He collapsed to the ground looking terrible, but his life was not in danger.

This casual strike would have been enough to kill Rector, who was powerless to fight.

However, Rector was chosen by Bray as a tool, and he would definitely not be allowed to simply die here.

So the ring wasn't actually fully unfolded.

The golden, translucent ring was severed midway by a single sword strike.

"They're just two inferior species..." The angel priest's unreasonable behavior would probably have made someone who didn't know about the Bronze race curse him in his heart.

Bray knew exactly what kind of people the Bronze Race were, so he wasn't surprised by the angel priests' appearance.

They can talk to themselves properly and don't act arrogantly like bronze-level characters. You can count their numbers on your fingers.

Bray stretched his muscles, making a dull "crack" sound.

Bray has a lot of experience dealing with this kind of guy.

He was basically familiar with the normal procedures.

---

Less than five minutes later, the angel priest collapsed to the ground, his white wings stained with his own blood.

Countless white feathers were scattered on the bricks and stones around him, which were engraved with countless sword marks.

In less than five minutes, I've turned into this state.

He raised his head blankly and looked directly above the altar.

Above the altar is a skylight, allowing light to enter from the outside.

The soft light made the angel priest feel momentarily disoriented.

What exactly happened just now? He didn't know.

He had only fought Bray once, and when he came to his senses, he collapsed to the ground.

He opened his mouth as if to say something to the sky, but no sound came out for a long time.

Defeated by a lower species—or rather, easily defeated.

He was not a weak angel, but a devout believer who was a priest.

This event was clearly a huge blow to Him, so much so that His beliefs were ruthlessly shattered.

"How long have I been asleep?" the angel priest asked, his voice weary.

Bray wiped the blood from the wound on the side of his face with his thumb and glanced at the angelic priest who looked utterly hopeless.

This angel is quite powerful; if you don't concentrate, you could easily get hurt.

No wonder this angel in front of him was the only one in the entire underground city who hadn't gone mad because of the parasites.

Not only did He not go mad, but from the very beginning, it was clear that He could even control the centipede that was parasitizing Him.

The angels in this city probably aspire to reach this state.

“I don’t know the exact time,” Bray said casually. He genuinely didn’t know how many years had passed in this city.

"But it must have been an era that has passed."

“I reckon the Bronze race was still invading the Iron race’s world before you went to sleep,” Bray said to the angel priest after a moment’s thought.

Sure enough, only after being thoroughly beaten would the Bronze-ranked individuals listen attentively.

After being thoroughly beaten by Bray, the angel priest became much quieter.

“An era…” His lips moved, his voice trembling.

Angels have very long lifespans, but even so, an era is still too long.

He slept for an entire era, yet none of his kin woke him up.

It's probably not about waking yourself up, but rather about not being able to wake yourself up.

Even if the ara-god collapsed on its own, could the city still not withstand the wrath of a demigod?

This single fact was enough to tell Him what the once prosperous city truly looked like now. The angelic priest struggled to his feet and gave Bray a deep look.

After casually casting a healing-like spell on Rekdor, who was lying on the ground nearby, He walked away from the altar without saying a word.

Upon hearing Bray say that an era had passed, the priest seemed to have lost his soul and was somewhat disoriented.

I don't know what to do, I don't know where to go.

So He chose to leave the altar, wanting to witness the city's fate with His own eyes.

"My fingers... my fingers are still here," Rector said, his voice almost breaking into tears.

He looked at his fingers, which had returned to normal, and couldn't help but sniff.

"Mr. Bray, am I still alive? Was I dreaming?" he asked Bray blankly.

It's no wonder he reacted that way; he really did have a rough time just now.

“You were healed by the angel who injured you,” Bray said succinctly.

In short, it perfectly explains everything that happened to Rector.

“Uh…” Rector couldn’t quite understand what Bray was saying at first.

The excruciating pain in my finger not long ago still lingers in my mind.

It was the first time he had ever seen an angel, and the first time he had ever understood just how cruel the angels' attitude was towards lower species.

Of course, it was mainly because he brought this upon himself. If it weren't for Bray, Rector might not even have any ashes left.

"Mr. Bray, where are you going?" He came to his senses and noticed that Bray was walking out.

“Let’s see what that angel is up to,” Bray replied casually.

"Didn't you want to find the technology on how to control the Aragami? I think He knows it all."

Rector's heart skipped a beat, but he still gritted his teeth and followed Bray.

To remain unfazed by someone who had severely injured him is something Rector is not capable of.

It's no exaggeration to say that he could collapse to the ground at any moment.

Because of his timidity, Rector is often the one being exploited in the safe zone.

---

While Bray and Rector were talking inside, the angel priest had already walked quite far away.

No, it should be said that it flew.

He folded his outstretched wings, landed gently, and stood near the gate that had been shattered by the wreckage.

He looked with a complex expression at the magnificent gate, now reduced to ruins.

The priest could tell that the door had only recently been smashed, and he could also guess who had smashed it.

Everything has changed. Even among the Black Iron species, monsters like this can appear.

Indeed, an era can change so many things.

Between the Bronze and Iron types, does this mean the Bronze type has lost?

Although the priest didn't want to believe it deep down, there were too many things to prove it.

It's not His place to deceive himself.

He stepped out of the altar where he had slept for an entire era, and what came into view was a city that was both familiar and strange.

The yellow base tone remains unchanged from before.

The building was not damaged, but it looked old due to years of neglect.

The roads have not been altered, and He remembers perfectly where each road leads.

In the past, the children who would appear before the priest were either chasing children or fellow clansmen who were praying.

Hymns would fill the entire city, and it would certainly not be like the hellish scene before our eyes.

The stiff centipede offspring, entwined with the long-dead angels, are scattered like fallen leaves in every corner, waiting to be swept away by someone.

Those are angels who cannot be called angels.

With their emaciated bodies and scarred faces, who could call them angels?

These are the spirits of the dead who cannot find release, not the holy angels.

They successfully suppressed the Aragami and obtained power from them.

Using this power, they even defeated other silver races at one point, and were considered by angels elsewhere to be one of the strongest tribes.

No one thought anything would go wrong, and everyone let their guard down.

Then the rampage of the Aragami came so suddenly, like a storm without warning, sweeping across the entire city.

Those rampant insects weren't exactly terrifying monsters.

Despite being born from the gods, they remain inferior beings, lacking intelligence and the ability to influence the rules of the world.

But these very insects devoured everyone after the Aragami fell.

From body to mind, it has completely devoured everything.

Only the priests who had fallen into a deep sleep beforehand were fortunate enough to survive the period when the insects were rampaging.

And just now, the parasites living on Him were killed by an ordinary sword.

Having lost the corresponding power, it seems to have also freed itself from the fate of being parasitized.

"So that's how it is. So this is what the scenery looks like after an era has passed."

When I looked up, what I saw above me was no longer the bright sunshine, but the compacted earth.

An era is enough for their proud city to be buried in the long river of history, completely buried beneath the earth.

Before she knew it, tears streamed down her face, dripping onto her long dress.

He knelt on the ground, cupped his face in his hands, and began to sob.

Friends, relatives, everything has become part of history, and He should have become part of history too.

Sad? No, not sad.

It is despair.

Gods, the supreme beings I believe in, what should I do now?

Why did He have to witness this sight with His own eyes?

At this moment, He was all alone. What should He do?

Even if there's only one member of the same clan, even just one would be fine.

In this way, He would not be so desperate, overwhelmed by sorrow.

"Why, why, after an entire era has passed, why am I being awakened?"

“Gods, tell me why, and what can save me?” He lowered his tearful hands and then clasped them together tightly.

He was praying; for an angel whose entire life belonged to faith, this was the only time he knew to pray to the gods.

Whichever god it is, respond to Him, give Him salvation.

But no god responded to Him; only a man's cold words fell upon His heart.