Chapter 646 - 633: Battle against a monster

[Realm: álfheimr]

[Location: Dominion of Oz]

[Winkie Country]

Mikoto could sense a certain hostility whenever Electra spoke about Angels. It was subtle, never quite making its way onto her otherwise dull and composed expression, but it was there all the same. Beneath the calmness of her voice and the way she regarded him, something unpleasant stirred.

He could not tell whether her grievance was directed specifically towards Angels or whether it extended to the divine being they served. Perhaps there was some history behind it. Perhaps she had suffered at the hands of one of them. There were any number of reasons an ancient creature like Electra might harbor such feelings, and Mikoto could have spent time trying to understand them.

He simply did not care enough to bother.

Whatever her reasons were, they had very little to do with him. He had not come here to settle some ancient grievance, nor did he have any particular interest in defending the reputation of Angels. He had someone to find, and the longer he remained in this place, the more time he wasted.

"I’m looking for someone. A chick with ashen hair, a dumb-looking face, and a red dress. That’s all I’m here for." Mikoto clarified, his tone remaining relatively casual despite the creature sitting before him. "I’m not interested in you, your territory, or whatever problem you have with Angels. I just need to find her and leave."

He was not especially wary of the Progenitor. He understood that she was powerful, and the strange presence surrounding her was certainly something worth taking seriously, but that did not mean he was frightened of her. Still, there was little reason to provoke a fight when he could avoid one. His current circumstances made a direct confrontation considerably less appealing than it otherwise might have been.

The leylines were already a problem. Any substantial spell he attempted to use would risk drawing too much of his mana into them, and the resulting eruption could cause considerably more trouble than the fight itself.

Avoiding a battle was simply the more sensible option.

"Bullshit." Electra stated rather bluntly.

The word was so unexpected, coming from someone who looked and carried herself like an ancient monster, that Mikoto briefly regarded her with an expression of mild surprise.

"You expect me to believe an Angel came all the way here just to look for a missing person?" she continued, her eyes fixed on him. "You suppose I should accept that without question? You come into my territory, appear before me, and tell me that your only concern is finding some girl in a red dress?"

A small sneer settled across her features.

"Your kind are all of a piece. You always have some convenient explanation for why you’re somewhere, and there’s always something else beneath it. I have no reason to believe you, Angel."

Mikoto regarded her quietly. He had not expected her to accept his explanation without question, but the immediate dismissal was still irritating. He had told her what he wanted, and whether she believed him or not was hardly his concern. Unfortunately, Electra did not seem particularly interested in letting the matter rest.

Slowly, she began to rise from her throne.

Her movements were unhurried; the robes draped around her shifted as she straightened, their fabric sliding over the steps and settling against her scaled body. She did not appear agitated, nor did she seem to be in any hurry. Yet the change in her posture was unmistakable. The conversation had reached its end, at least as far as she was concerned.

"You descend into places that do not belong to you, carrying the authority of your divinity as though it grants you the right to judge everything you encounter." Her voice remained low and strangely soothing, but the hostility beneath it had become much harder to ignore. "You call it righteousness. You are convinced that whatever you do is justified because you believe it serves some higher purpose."

She fully straightened, her gaze never leaving him.

"I shall not be deceived by such things. I know what your kind are capable of, and I have no intention of allowing you to dress your intentions in holy words and expect me to accept them."

Mikoto’s eyes narrowed.

There it was again. That unmistakable prejudice, directed not at anything he had actually done, but at what he represented. Electra had already decided what sort of person he was simply because he was an Angel. Whatever explanation he offered, she would find some reason to dismiss it.

It was becoming rather tiresome.

"If you know what I am, then you should also know just how stupid you’re about to be." His voice had grown quieter. He looked up at her without making any attempt to conceal his irritation. "I’m not here to fight you, and I’ve already told you why I came. But if you’re determined to make this difficult, then understand something. I’m not going to stand here and let you attack me just because you have a problem with Angels."

His gaze remained fixed on hers.

"If you’re going to start this fight, then I’ll kill you."

There was no dramatic emphasis behind the threat.

Electra did not appear impressed.

"Mercy is never the option of the divine," she stated.

Her words were delivered with the same composure as before, almost as though she were reciting something she had long since accepted. There was no visible indication that his threat had given her reason to reconsider. If anything, the expression in her eyes suggested that his response had only confirmed whatever suspicion she already held.

And then she moved.

Her form vanished in a blur.

There was no drawn-out preparation or obvious indication of the direction from which she intended to strike. One moment she stood before her throne, and the next she was considerably closer, having crossed the intervening distance with a suddenness that made the movement difficult to follow. Her right arm was already extended.

It appeared to be a simple palm strike.

Mikoto reacted immediately.

His arm came up across his body, the heavy gauntlet turning to meet the incoming blow. He had only a fraction of a moment to position himself before Electra’s palm collided with the metal.

The impact was brutal.

A sharp crack rang through the chamber as the force of the strike travelled through his gauntlet. The alloy buckled, fractures racing across its surface as though the armor had been struck by something far heavier than a hand. At the same time, the tin floor beneath Mikoto’s sabatons gave way. It dented beneath him in a spreading depression, the surrounding metal bending outward as a wave of force rolled through the chamber.

His feet left the ground.

The impact had driven him backwards before he could properly brace himself, sending his small armored body sailing through the air. His tailcoat shifted beneath the plates, and the weight of his armor did little to slow his momentum. For an instant, the throne room and Electra’s figure blurred together in his vision as the distance between them rapidly increased.

Yet, as he travelled through the air, the only thing that occupied his thoughts was irritation.

("Fighting without magic is going to be a real pain.")

His arm still throbbed from the impact, and the fractured gauntlet was an unwelcome reminder of just how much force Electra had put behind that seemingly simple strike. He could already tell that this was going to be troublesome. Without relying on his magic, he would have to deal with her using considerably more direct methods, and that was hardly ideal when he had intended to avoid fighting altogether.

His back struck the tin wall.

The collision sent another heavy metallic crash through the structure. The wall bent inward around his armored body, its weakened surface giving way beneath the force as the metal tore apart. Sheets of rusted tin buckled and split, breaking free from their supports as Mikoto continued straight through the damaged section.

The next instant, he was outside.

Open air surrounded him, and the dark interior of the castle gave way to a wide courtyard. Beneath him stretched a patch of grassy ground, bordered by the strange architecture of the decrepit structure. Odd blue flowers grew throughout the courtyard, their thin patterns running across the petals towards iris-like centers.

Mikoto’s body continued to rotate from the momentum of the impact.

He adjusted himself in midair, shifting his weight and bringing his limbs into position. His movements were controlled despite the force that had thrown him through the wall. He turned his body and brought his sabatons beneath him before descending towards the grass.

His feet touched the ground gently.

His sabatons pressed into the grassy surface and his knees bending slightly to absorb the remaining momentum before he straightened. He glanced briefly at his damaged gauntlet, then lifted his gaze towards the opening in the wall.

Electra stood there.

She remained on the other side of the newly created hole, watching him from the damaged chamber. The distance between them was not particularly great, and there was nothing in her posture to suggest that she had been inconvenienced by the exchange.

Mikoto stared back at her.

("It always devolves into a fight, I guess. Animals.")

He clicked his tongue.

It was becoming a familiar sort of inconvenience.

He looked towards the opening once more, his expression settling into a frown.

("I can’t very well search for Goiim with a Progenitor on my ass.")

That was the real problem.

But Electra had made her intentions clear.

There would be no peaceful conversation or simple explanation that would convince her to let him pass. If he wanted to continue searching, he would first have to deal with the creature standing in his way.

Fighting seemed to be the only option.