Gol D. Ace In Coiling Dragon

For the ordinairy soldiers, the morale was high as each division began their march to their next target, but for higher-ups, their moods were anything but light.

The ordinairy soldiers had no idea, but Killian and the other generals were all aware that if their enemies were planning anything, this would be the best time.

As they hadn’t done anything to get rid of the spies, their enemies would more than likely be well aware of their plans and routes.

Still, as cautious as they were, no fear could be seen in any of their eyes. If anything, there was a faint excitement. It was almost as if they were hoping they would make a move.

“What do you think?” Kannal asked Osiris from the front of the first division. “Do you think the O’Brien Empire will make a move today?”

“I don’t know,” Osiris shrugged as his abyss-like eyes swept his surroundings. “But I bet Senior Wukong is praying they do.”

“Ace, Mira, and Leo too, I’d imagine,” Kannal smiled helplessly, knowing how antsy their ‘saints’ were getting.

“If not today, then soon,” Osiris replied. “I can’t see the O’Brien Empire and the others remaining this patient if we keep on expanding at this rate.”

“Hahaha, you're probably right,” Kannal said as he came to a stop, commanding the troops following them to do the same.

“Looks like they really were expecting us,” Osiris said lightly as he calmly scanned the army in front of them.

“As long as no enemy saints intervene, this was still the best-case scenario of Cirulus’ predictions,” Kannal shrugged.

Their first division had only made it around half the distance to their target city when they came across their fully prepared target force. Still, as they had expected as much, the rest of the soldiers weren’t worried or surprised, more just anxious to begin.

At the same time, floating leisurely in the clouds above, Ace and Cirulus were looking down calmly.

“What does that expression mean?” Cirulus asked as he glanced at the face of his young master. “Can you sense an enemy saint?”

“Yeah,” Ace grinned as he looked down at a large but surprisingly unassuming man hidden amongst the enemy’s ranks. “And it’s an old friend from the Cult of Darkness.”

“I’m guessing he’s the only one?” Cirulus asked, still unphased.

“Saint?” Ace asked back. “Yeah, he is. But there are still five warriors of the ninth rank with him.”

“Five?” Cirulus asked with mild shock before noticing the weird expression that was forming on Ace’s face. “And what does that expression mean?”

“There’s something weird about those five,” Ace frowned slightly. “It’s like they’ve used a transformation of some sort, one that not even I can see through clearly.”

Hearing that, Cirulus’ relaxed expression all but disappeared, only to be replaced by a pensive frown. “If I had to guess, I’d bet that they’re the Cult’s two winged fallen angels.”

“That makes sense,” Ace nodded before disregarding their presence altogether.

He’d already heard of the Radiant Church’s Angels and the Cult’s Fallen Angels. He knew they were each strongest division, but unless they had the strength of at least a saint, they wouldn’t be able to garner his attention.

According to Arianna, experts from the higher realms weren’t able to descend into lesser planes like theirs very easily. As such, the sovereigns of light and darkness came up with an ingenious method of sending their experts down to protect their faith in the lower realms by having some of the experts by their side enter the bodies of mortals from said lower worlds. Unfortunately, the requirements for said bodies were particularly strict.

As everyone knows, the average talented mortal warrior could only cultivate up to the peak of the sixth rank before needing to cultivate battle-qi. Unfortunately, said mortals could only withstand the strength of a two-winged angel, which can only produce the strength of a ninth-rank expert.

Unless part of the Pavilion, only those with special physiques or bloodline could cultivate to the seventh rank without battle-qi. Such experts could withstand the power of a four-winged angel, which had the might of an early staged saint.

Those who were able to reach the eighth rank were able to withstand the power of a six-winged angel who could produce the might of a mid-stage saint.

As for those exceedingly rare experts who could rely purely on their fleshy bodies to cultivate to the ninth rank, they could withstand the might of an eight-winged angel, who in turn could wield the power of a peak-stage saint.

As for those who could cultivate to the saint stage without battle-qi, apparently, the Yulan Plane had never produced such an expert, but according to legend, such an expert could withstand the might of the legendary ten-winged angel, an angel whose might matched that of a deity.

All that is to say, in Ace’s eyes, the only one he felt the need to pay attention to was Sulturn, the only saint hidden amongst the enemy’s ranks.

As the strongest expert of the First Division, Kannal was the one who stepped forward to address their enemies, but as he did, a cold glint flashed across the beady eyes of the giant.

The young swordsman barely had time to react before a jet-black beam of battle-qi shot towards his head.

The moment he sensed it, Kannal understood he didn’t stand a chance at blocking it, even with all the improvements he’d made over this last year or so. Still, his face didn’t show an ounce of fear.

Just as the attack neared its target, a barrier of flame suddenly enveloped the young swordsman causing the dark beam to incinerate.

“Damn!” The overbearing saint hidden among the foot soldiers grunted as the ordinairy mortals around him scurried away from him. “I wanted to see the look on your face after I killed one of your little friends.”

“Trust you scum from the Cult of Darkness to act with such shamelessness,” Ace sighed casually as though he couldn’t see the five fallen angels ‘secretly’ attempting to surround him.

“It’s been a long time, Ace,” Sulturn snarled as he slowly floated up as though he was prepared to take Ace on. “Or should I call you Luffy?”

“I’d rather you didn’t address me at all,” Ace replied. “Just the thought of sharing the same air as you makes me sick!”

“Sulturn!” Osiris muttered, his voice colder than ever before as he glared at the man in the sky.

“Osiris?” Ace asked upon feeling Osiris’ killing intent.

“It was him,” Siris snarled as though he had seen his archnemesis. “He’s the reason my family were killed all those years ago!”

“Fancy seeing you here,” Sulturn said as he looked at Osiris with a sadistic light flickering in his eyes. “Ever since hearing that you’d joined the pavilion, you were the one I wanted to run into most after Ace.”

Seeing the murderous light in Siris’ eyes, the sadistic grin on Sulturn’s face only widened. “Aren’t you going to ask about your sister? She really misses you, you know.”

Osiris’ raging killing intent seemed to climb to all new heights at the mere mention of his traitorous excuse for a sister.

Sulturn barely managed to open his mouth when an arrow whirred through the air aiming to pierce his skull.

“Hahaha, so much hostility,” Sulturn grinned as he casually caught the arrow between his index finger and thumb. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with you shortly, but first, I’ll deal with your little friend.”

“Ace,” Siris called. “Don’t kill him. I want to be the one to kill him in the future!”

“I understand,” Ace nodded indifferently, before turning back to Sulturn, his face now void of emotion.

After finding out that it was he who caused his friend so much pain, Ace had lost any interest in menial chit-chat. “Take your men and disappear, now!”

“You really haven’t understood your situation yet, have you?” Sulturn smirked as he looked at the cold-faced teen. “MOVE, NOW!”

Suddenly, six eerie black auras shot into the sky, one from each cult member, before meeting in the centre, directly above Ace’s position, creating a pitch-black sphere of energy trapping Ace. The might of which matched that of a mid-staged saint.

“HAHAHA, serves you right, you arrogant little bastard!” Sulturn roared with laughter. “How do you like our [Fallen Angel Battle Formation]?

Unless you have the strength of a strong mid-staged saint, you should forget about escaping and from in there, you can’t attack us, but we can still attack you!”

Sulturn was ecstatic. After killing Ace, the dark empress would undoubtedly reward him handsomely for killing the biggest threat to their organisation.

But aside from him and the other angels who were focused on maintaining the formation, all the other spectators had odd expressions on their faces. Hell, they weren’t even looking at him.

Before he could figure out what they were staring at, a young but indifferent yet oh-so-familiar voice entered his ears, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You’re facing the wrong way,” Ace voiced coldly from right behind the giant saint.

Sulturn’s eyes widened as his eyes constricted. He spun round whilst throwing his body out the way as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge.

He turned around just in time to see a seemingly unassuming crimson ball of fire in Ace’s palm aiming for the centre of his stomach.

As ordinairy as the ball of fire seemed at first glance, the fact that his instincts were screaming for him to escape was all Sulturn needed to know. He couldn’t allow it to touch him.

Unfortunately, Ace was simply too fast. All he could do was watch as the flame landed, and for a split second, when nothing happened, he believed he had just been overreacting, but that quickly changed when that seemingly simple ball of flame erupted, creating a heaven-shattering explosion.

“Pathetic!” Ace snorted as he watched Sulturn use the blast from the explosion to help him escape, not bothering to chase after him.