Extra: Yandere Milfs Obsessed with me!

The silence that followed the closing of the rift was only a stolen respite. Loriel felt her muscles contract, a new tension born in her chest as she observed Konstantin, still on his knees. He raised his head toward her.

"On should hurry and get ourselves to Island Mist," he said, his voice barely more than a hoarse breath.

Loriel closed her eyelids for a fraction of a second. She felt her shoulder burning, the blood sticking to her tunic, her legs threatening to give way. But she knew. She knew they had no time to lose.

"I know..." she replied.

She stood up, her knees cracking under the effort, and unfurled her wings. The white feathers extended in a dull rustle, stained with blood and soot, but still powerful enough to cleave the air. She held out her hand to Konstantin, who seized it without hesitation.

The air whistled around them as they rose. The battlefield shrank beneath their feet, the corpses became black dots, the earth a gray and smoking expanse. They crossed the skies at a speed that defied comprehension, the clouds torn by their passage, the wind howling in their ears like a lament.

The distance between the battlefield and Island Mist shrank rapidly. In a fraction of a second, they flew over the distance that separated Tenebris from Island Mist. They landed on the white stone promontory that preceded the Gate of Paradise, their feet striking the ground with a dull thud. And there, before them, the gate was opening.

A delegation of angels was coming out, their armor sparkling, their wings unfurled in a posture of solemnity. Their faces, of a cold and perfect beauty, turned toward the two arrivals.

Loriel felt Konstantin’s gaze weigh on her. He took out the key of Saint Peter, a modest object similar to the key of Solomon but engraved with angelic symbols.

"You should hurry and close this gate," said Loriel, her voice cutting.

Konstantin nodded, his jaw clenched. "That was my intention from the beginning."

He advanced toward the gate, the key raised. The angels of the delegation watched him approach, their expressions impassive. But before he had taken three steps, a ray of light burst from nowhere, cleaving the air straight toward him.

Loriel moved before even thinking. Her spear rose, intercepted the ray, and deflected it in a burst of light that dazzled the assembly. She placed herself in front of Konstantin, her wings unfurled as a shield.

A group of angels appeared suddenly, cleaving the air with a clap of wings. They landed on the promontory, their swords bare, their armor gleaming with a celestial glow. The one leading the group advanced, his face of stunning beauty, his eyes of an icy blue fixing on Loriel.

"Lady Loriel," he said, his voice deep like an organ, "why have you defended this human?"

Loriel held his gaze without flinching. She felt the weight of the spear in her hand, the pain of her wound, the exhaustion pulling at her bones. But she did not retreat.

"Sorry, but I have decided to close the gate of Paradise," she answered, not beating around the bush.

A silence fell. The angels exchanged glances, their faces hardening. The head of the delegation tilted his head slightly, a cold smile stretching his lips.

"I see," he acknowledged. "In that case, I will consider you a traitor."

He did not give her time to respond. He threw himself at her, his sword tracing an arc of blinding light. Loriel shifted, dodged with a movement of her torso, feeling the wind of the blade brush her face. Her spear pivoted in her fingers and she planted the tip in the angel’s belly, driving the shaft with all her strength.

The celestial creature stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise. The light of his body flickered, luminous cracks running across his skin before he collapsed, dissipating into a golden dust that vanished into the air.

The other angels remained frozen for a second, shock painting their perfect features with an expression they had never known: incredulity. Then understanding settled in, slow and brutal, like a blade falling on a neck. Lady Loriel, their commander, the one who had led a thousand battles at their sides, was no longer an ally. She had become the enemy. This revelation crossed their minds, and their faces, first frozen in stupefaction, hardened instantly.

Immediately, they threw themselves at her and at Konstantin, their wings unfurled in a synchronized movement that cleaved the air like a single blade. Loriel stepped back, preparing to receive them. But Konstantin did not wait. His fingers assembled into a quick mudra. The air above them darkened abruptly, black clouds rolling in within seconds like a wave from the void, devouring the celestial light that bathed the battlefield.

A rain of lightning then fell on the group of attacking angels, carbonizing them on the spot. Their cries were muffled by the rumble of thunder, their bodies twisting one last time before falling into ashes, reduced to silhouettes of dust that scattered in the wind. The angels still coming out of the gate saw the scene, their pupils dilating before the horror of this spectacle. Their faces tightened, and with a single movement, they headed toward Loriel and Konstantin, their weapons raised, their wings beating the air in a storm-like clamor that resounded like a death knell.

The combat had just begun. Loriel gripped her spear so tightly that her knuckles cracked, and she felt the handle slide against her palm moist with blood. She cast a glance toward Konstantin, his face pale, his features drawn by exhaustion, and she knew they would not have much time.

"Get ready," she murmured, her voice barely audible under the din of wings and lightning.

He nodded, his fingers already in motion for a new mudra, the muscles of his jaw protruding under the tension.

"You’d better not die," he replied.

She sketched a bitter smile, without taking her eyes off the tide of light and anger that was descending upon them.

"You too," she retorted.

The angels descended upon them, a tide of light and anger, their flaming swords tracing incandescent arcs in the ozone-charged air. Loriel counted the seconds, assessed the distance, and when the first of them was within reach, she pivoted on herself with a deadly grace, her spear describing a circle that mowed down the first ranks. The divine metal met angelic flesh in a dull shock, and she felt the resistance of bones breaking under the impact.