Hitman with a Badass System-Chapter 1442: A God vs An Angel II

As Michael and Gaya stood amidst the carnage, the frozen tableau of death and destruction, a new presence emerged. A figure shimmering into existence from a portal of pure light. This was none other than Archon, one of the favored angels of Luxor and the angel who was puppeteering Aelrindel.

The angel stepped out of the portal, his expression unreadable as a statue carved from divine ice. His gaze swept over the gruesome scene, taking in the bodies of the fallen elves, the arrows that protruded from their silver armor, the lingering scent of ozone and decay that clung to the air. He saw ice arrows. Lightning arrows. Green, poison-tipped arrows. The unmistakable work of a master marksman, or in this case, a markswoman.

He could not sense any divine aura emanating from Michael and Gaya. But he could feel their power, a cold, unyielding force that radiated from them, making the air around them shimmer and distort. These were not angels. They were something else entirely.

Gods.

"Who are you two?" Archon demanded, his voice sharp and commanding despite his injuries.

Michael and Gaya, however, simply smiled. A slow, predatory stretching of their lips that did not reach their cold, calculating eyes.

But Archon frowned as his patience began to wear thin. He gestured, and a golden longsword, its blade gleaming with an unearthly light, materialized in his outstretched hand.

"You are in Luxor's domain," he said, his voice low and menacing, the words resonating with celestial authority. "Reveal yourselves. Now. Or this will get very ugly."

Still, Michael and Gaya did not respond to the angel's demand. Instead, they just chuckled, a chilling, humorless sound that echoed through the room.

Michael knew, of course, that the charade was over. The ship of diplomacy and peaceful resolution had long since sailed over the horizon. This was a direct confrontation and he relished it with a dark, thrilling anticipation.

After all, he was not here to negotiate, to plead for understanding, or to beg for mercy. He was a god, the God of Darkness himself, and this angel, this Archon, was now standing directly in his way. Usually, Michael would actively avoid unnecessary conflicts like this. But now, this was personal.

Before either Michael or Gaya could respond to Archon, Alyndra, her face a stark mix of confusion and dawning horror, stepped forward, her voice trembling.

"Who… who are you two?" she stammered, her gaze shifting rapidly between Michael and Gaya, her voice barely a whisper of sound.

Archon, his golden sword held firm in a gauntleted hand, seemed to radiate raw power. A vibrant, pulsating yellow aura enveloped him, a clear indication to any celestial being that he had consumed a sliver of Luxor's grace. Since his cultivation realm was the Spiritual Divinity Realm which was at the fifth level, he was uniquely capable of safely channeling a portion of a Level Four god's power, enhancing his strength and presence to an alarming degree. He was strong, far stronger than any of the guards they had faced, almost god-like in his empowered state. The angel was no fool either; he was smart enough not to choose to consume Luxor's grace sliver before Michael and Gaya's attack, recognizing the vulnerability of the grace vial and the likelihood it would become an immediate target. Instead, he consumed it before making his gran entrance which was a smart fucking move.

"You know who we are, Alyndra," Gaya said simply, her voice dangerously low, her eyes narrowed and fixed on the terrified elf.

The dawning recognition, the terrifying understanding, hit Alyndra like a physical blow to the chest. Gods. They were gods, walking amongst them. The casual brutality they had displayed, the effortless power that radiated from them like heat from a forge – it all chillingly made sense now in a way she had desperately tried to deny.

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Meanwhile, Archon, his golden aura flickering and crackling around him like miniature bolts of celestial lightning, tightened his grip on his radiant sword.

"You are in violation of Luxor's most sacred laws," he declared with authority.

"You have entered this domain uninvited. You have attacked Luxor's people without provocation. You have effectively declared war on Luxor itself."

However, to Michael's genuine surprise, Archon slowly lowered his golden sword. The vibrant golden aura that surrounded him dimmed noticeably, though it did not entirely disappear, still flickering with a subdued celestial light.

"Usually," the angel began, his voice calmer now but still carrying an unmistakable undercurrent of steel, "I would be forced to attack. To contain you, to protect Luxor. But you are gods, undeniably powerful beings. And I respect that power, even if I do not know which gods you are, or what god you serve."

He paused, his gaze intense and probing, sweeping between Michael and Gaya as if trying to decipher their true natures.

"So," he continued, his voice now smooth and almost diplomatic, a stark contrast to his previous aggression, "I will offer you a chance to explain yourselves. Tell me why you are here in Luxor and why you attacked my people without any warning. Perhaps, if you are forthcoming, we can find a better way to resolve this… unfortunate conflict, one that does not necessarily end in bloodshed."

Gaya, her eyes narrowed to crimson slits, glared suspiciously at the angel. She was not buying this sudden shift in demeanor, not for a single moment. This unexpected de-escalation felt wrong, off-key, like a poorly constructed trap being laid right before their eyes.

Michael was indeed surprised by the angel's unexpected change of heart, genuinely expecting a brutal fight to erupt after the slaughter of the guards. But as he considered Archon's sudden diplomatic turn, it started to make a twisted kind of sense. Andohr was planning something huge – trapping Death for the Three Horsemen – and Luxor, as Andohr's ally, was clearly complicit in the scheme.

A large-scale battle within Luxor, especially one involving gods, would be disastrous. It would draw unwanted attention, create chaos, and potentially throw a massive wrench into Andohr's meticulously laid plans. By extension, Archon, as Luxor's protector, also wanted to avoid any large incident that could ruin their plans. The angel, therefore, did not want any major incidents to happen, not before Andohr could enact his plan. The angel, he realized, was playing blind, hoping to de-escalate the rapidly escalating situation and avoid a fight that he likely knew he could not definitively win, at least not without significant and potentially catastrophic consequences for Luxor and Andohr's plans.

Michael, recognizing a potential opportunity amidst the unfolding drama, decided to play along with the angel's unexpected diplomatic overture, at least for the moment.

"Stand down," He subtly gestured towards Gaya to lower her fiery bow.

Alyndra let out a breath she had not realized she had been holding, her shoulders slumping slightly in relief as she witnessed the de-escalation. Archon lowered his golden sword, the vibrant aura around him fading to a subtle shimmer, the palpable tension in the room easing, if only slightly.

"Let us talk somewhere without all the… bodies," Archon said with a sweeping glance over the carnage, a flicker of distaste crossing his features. He looked at Aelrindel, and his expression hardening. "And you. Not a word of this to anyone. Is that understood?"

Aelrindel, despite the throbbing pain in his chest, and the deep humiliation of being so easily overpowered, simply nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. He knew better than to argue, not with Archon, and certainly not now, in the wake of such destruction.

Archon gestured towards the door, and Michael and Gaya followed him out of the room, leaving the gruesome mess behind. They walked through the now-quiet corridors of the Silver Citadel, eventually reaching a smaller, more normal room on the ground floor. It was plain, functional, with a simple wooden table and a few chairs – a far cry from the extravagant opulence of Alyndra's apartment.

As they entered, Archon closed the door behind them, the click of the lock echoing in the sudden silence. He crossed his arms, and his gaze, intense and probing, lingered on Michael and Gaya who leaned casually against a wall.

"Now," he said with a low, calm tone, but with an undercurrent of steel, "since we have decided not to kill each other, perhaps you can tell me who you are. I have never seen you in the Pantheon. What Gods are you?"

"That does not matter," Michael replied with an even, unwavering tone. "What matters is that we are not looking for trouble. We were just passing through. And that elf… well, he said something he should not have. We reacted. But our intention was not to disrupt your city or anger Luxor."

Archon stared at them for a long moment, eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. He did not trust them, not one bit. He probably still thought they were lying, concealing their true motives. But he also knew that pushing them now, when Andohr's plan was so close to fruition, would be foolish, even reckless. He needed to maintain order, to avoid any unnecessary complications that might jeopardize their plan.

Then, testing the waters, Archon suggested a solution, a thinly veiled attempt to control the unpredictable situation.

"If that's the case," Archon began, his voice regaining some of its earlier commanding tone, "then it shouldn't be a problem for you to leave the kingdom, right?"

He wanted these two powerful, unknown gods out of Luxor, or at the very least, contained and under his watchful eye.

But Michael had absolutely no intention of leaving, not when he was this close to throwing a massive, glorious wrench into Andohr's carefully laid plans. So, he calmly countered the angel's suggestion, almost as if he had plucked the very thought from Archon's mind.

"We would actually like to stay, if you don't mind," Michael stated, his voice smooth and seemingly agreeable.

"And if it makes you feel better, we can remain here, at the manor, as… guests. That way, you can keep an eye on us."

Internally, Archon smirked, a flicker of triumph crossing his otherwise impassive features. This was far better than having two rogue gods, potential wild cards, roaming freely through Luxor, potentially disrupting the delicate balance of power. This way, he could ensure they stayed put, confined and monitored. Most importantly, it gave him time. In two days, once Andohr's plan was set in motion, he could contain these two troublemakers with the full backing of Luxor's might, neutralizing their threat permanently. He thought he was one smart motherfucker playing them like that, little did he know, Michael was ten steps ahead.