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As part of maintaining security, Information Agencies use code names, and the range of their use is more extensive than one might think.

From casual conversations among information agents to official meetings and intelligence documents. Excluding documents written on a non-code basis, code names and disguises were required in almost all dialogues and documents.

In that sense, it was not surprising that our new companion, Akande, was assigned the code name ‘Michael.’

For reference, ‘Michael’ wasn’t an identification code given by the agency; it was a personal code named by Camila.

The first reason was that he was as tall as the basketball player ‘Michael Jordan.’ The second reason was his full-body tattoo and muscular build, which resembled the image of boxer ‘Mike Tyson.’ It seemed fitting to blend those two and call him ‘Michael.’

“Do we really have to call him that? Can’t we just use his real name…”

“There’s a vibe to it, you know?”

“A vibe? What kind of code do we need for just talking among ourselves?”

I didn’t see the code as particularly useful, but Camila called Akande ‘Michael’ whenever she got the chance.

It felt childish to encourage me to use that code, yet she seemed to find it amusing. So, sometimes I humorously played along, teasing her about her naming sense.

However.

Seeing Akande go wild, I couldn’t help but acknowledge Camila’s naming skills.

The guy was pummeling angels with his fists.

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Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

When the fist struck the air, a cracking sound erupted from nowhere.

As his left hand struck the thick pillar, it shed pieces like a snake molting. When his right hand, burrowing in like a brick into tofu, lifted, the cracked ground revealed its insides like a turtle shell.

The sharp dual swords seemed capable of slicing through any gaze, cutting through the air with precision, but they were soon blocked by a fist, veins bulging out.

“Your attack.”

Akande, who had defended against Nathaniel’s strike, spoke.

“Fast. Quite.”

The words spilled out awkwardly from his lips. However, Akande didn’t care about his pronunciation; he simply grinned.

“But. Slower. Than me.”

As his thick lips curled up, revealing teeth as sharp as a beast’s fangs, his rock-solid fist shot forward like lightning.

The tattoo running from his shoulder to his forearm began to glow, and he roared fiercely like a lion charging across the plains.

The tremendous power behind that strike could hardly be contained by stone pillars, and it pierced into Nathaniel’s breastplate like a dagger.

Boom! The impact of the power within his fist echoed like the sound of native drums driving away invaders.

In response, Akande, wearing a thick smile, let out a mighty roar.

“Zullûwth (Storm, Fierce Wind)!”

– Grrrrr!

Like thunder rumbling in the distance, Nathaniel’s body was sent flying backward, a shock so palpable that even we, standing at a significant distance, felt unsteady.

Nathaniel couldn’t dodge in time and took the full force of the strike. The impact was so great that one of the angel’s knees touched the ground.

That was both a mistake and an opportunity. And Akande didn’t let that opportunity slip away.

“Krama-ta hum!”

Tattoos burning brightly, connecting like the roots of a tree to his calves and Achilles tendon, bricks broke beneath his feet.

Amidst the cracking stone bricks, Akande surged forward, crushing the ground like a sandcastle.

The space warped as the scenery around Akande shifted backward, and he succeeded in leaping directly in front of Nathaniel.

Then he began to swing his bulging-veined fists mercilessly.

“Uryyyyyy-!!”

The storm of punches had begun. Each hit felt fatal.

With a howl that sounded eerily familiar, he unleashed a relentless assault as if he were something that had given up on being human. Amidst the swirling dust and stone fragments, Akande swung his fists, and Nathaniel was taking it all without a chance to breathe.

“This isn’t a joke!”

Veronica, watching the scene, wore a look of utter disbelief. A mere human overwhelming a divine being; it was a scene straight out of a myth.

“I’ve never seen someone like that, not even in tales of heroes battling demons and their kin. How did you even bring him along?”

How did we bring him, you ask? We loaded him in the van.

Akande was literally dominating Nathaniel. It was hard to believe, remembering how he struggled against the knight, Ramiel, clad in plate armor.

With his left hand, he struck Nathaniel’s abdomen, then jabbed at his chin with his right, before thrusting forward like a spear into his breastplate and tossing him aside. As Nathaniel floated in the air, Akande leaped high.

Boom! Leaving the cracked floor behind, he raised his thick legs and slammed down hard.

The angel’s fall was not as glorious as depicted in scriptures or literature. The form came crashing down like a cannonball, creating a crack in the ground. Dust and debris shot up like a shell’s impact.

It was a sight that made onlookers shudder, yet Nathaniel showed no signs of pain.

Without a groan, the angel brushed off the dust on his shoulder as he lifted his head. Meanwhile, Akande settled into a serious stance.

“…Huff.”

Strength surged into his legs, connecting with the earth. As if tiles were shattering, stone bricks cracked, and his feet sank into the ground.

At the point where he touched the Earth God, Akande lowered his body. Like a tiger stalking its prey.

His ten fingers curled in unison. Mimicking the claws of a ferocious beast, Akande extended his bent hands forward. At that moment, an unknown dark shadow behind him morphed into the figure of a lion and began to roar.

– Roarrrrr!!!

The powerful roar echoed continually.

The ruler of the savannah’s cry sent tremors throughout the desert. The earth shook, animals trembled, and the roar reached for the sky.

With fingers curled low and power surging throughout his body, Akande seemed poised to finish the fight in a single blow. In sync, his tattoos vibrated, burning brighter and brighter.

However.

– Szzzzz!

As a chilling metallic sound echoed, everything disappeared.

The lion’s roar, the vibrations of the tattoos.

It felt as if every sound in the world vanished. Puzzled, I lifted my head, but all I saw was the ready stance of Akande and Nathaniel, sword in hand.

Something was happening. I didn’t know what, but something was definitely afoot.

An ominous feeling rushed through my mind when suddenly—

“Enough.”

The angel’s voice rang in my head.

In that instant, as if time had resumed after being paused, changes began to take place. The roar that shook the plains ceased, the glowing tattoos quieted, and the lion’s form vanished.

As Akande sensed the disappearance of the lion in some way, his expression noticeably stiffened. The flustered fellow scanned the area behind him before urgently turning his head forward.

Standing before him was Nathaniel, who had somehow appeared right in front of him, grabbing Akande by both wrists. Akande was caught off guard.

I braced myself and concentrated strength into my lower body. Power surged as my feet dug into the ground, bricks shifting and crumbling beneath me, but my captured wrists wouldn’t budge an inch.

Like an adult playing with a child, Nathaniel held my wrists and gazed silently at Akande. Then,

– *Kwaddeuk.*

A dreadful sound pierced the air.

The crunch of bones began to seep from my immobilized wrists. As I pushed against the ground with my legs in a desperate attempt to escape, Akande’s scream trailed a beat behind.

“Ughhh!”

Despite the horrifying scream, Nathaniel didn’t release my wrists. With one hand freed, he clenched my other wrist as if molding soft clay, applying pressure to his grip.

“Ugh…!”

“Damn it….”

As his screams echoed around us, Veronica gulped in horror.

My liberated hand gripped my trembling arm, but the shaking showed no sign of stopping. As Nathaniel’s grasp tightened like a noose around my wrist, the piercing screams grew louder, and red pulp began to ooze between his fingers.

Simply holding my wrist crushed it to pieces. Like releasing a grasped piece of meat, Nathaniel let go, causing mangled flesh and bone fragments to spill out.

Akande, who had soared through the air, crashed down next to us with a thud. The moment I grabbed his wrist to assess the condition, a curse escaped my lips.

“…Damn. It’s basically been turned into dough.”

The wrist was not just shattered; it was mush. Even someone without medical knowledge would think amputation was the only option.

Seeing this, Veronica shoved me aside and invoked divine power, but Akande stopped her with his healthy hand, grimacing and focusing his mental energy.

As the tattoo began to glow brightly, his shattered wrist started to swell rapidly. The pulverized flesh began to regrow, and the broken bones aligned. With veins reconnecting in a grotesque display, Veronica’s eyes widened in horror as she used divine power to heal.

“What is this…!?”

“It is the power of Essence.”

Nathaniel said slowly, stepping forward. The angel slipped a finger through a ring attached to the sword’s hilt and twirled the blade gracefully in the air. Nathaniel, having suspended the spinning sword, fixed his gaze on Akande.

“You possess a privilege not granted to mere humans. In fact, a human’s body should neither wield nor even feel it properly.”

“…….”

“Unless some foolish individual hadn’t spread that knowledge.”

As Nathaniel shifted his attention, Ramiel, who had plunged his greatsword into the ground, stood up.

“There is nothing excessive for any being in this land, Nathaniel. I understand your desire to blame me, but refrain from speaking unwise words.”

“Such ridiculous nonsense.”

The wise one scolded the brave one’s folly.

“Shamir, was it? The human you shared the Essence with referred to himself by that name, I believe.”

“That’s correct.”

“Despite having inherited the Essence for hundreds of years, seeing you unable to handle it properly only proves how much you’ve wasted such precious power with your pitiful insight.”

“What you see may just be the tip of the iceberg.”

“The excuses flow smoothly. Since when has your tongue grown so long?”

Nathaniel snickered mockingly, but Ramiel showed no reaction.

Stabbing the greatsword into the ground, he pulled out a hammer. Grabbing the long handle that appeared in the air, he yanked it downward, revealing its massive head. Thud! The hammer, boasting immense weight, stirred up dust simply by being placed down.

With a new weapon drawn, Ramiel turned his gaze toward us. He spoke softly, yet firmly.

“Thank you for stepping in. However, there’s no need for you all to interfere. This is an issue that Nathaniel and I must resolve.”

“Your foolish words happen to be correct this time.”

Swish. As his cloak fluttered, it began to shimmer with lights. Dozens of daggers hidden within the folds of the cloak revealed themselves under Veronica’s lantern.

“Don’t interfere.”

Nathaniel warned, gripping a dagger, pointing it toward Veronica and Akande.

“Your inaction can be overlooked, but this is not your place. Thus, flee. I won’t stop your escape. The host of Altiara and the heir of Essence. And….”

His words trailed off momentarily. The angel’s gaze fixed on me. Expecting him to continue, I remained silent, but Nathaniel held his tongue.

At that moment.

“…Ah, are you telling me to flee?”

Veronica, who had been quiet, suddenly began speaking.

With an expression of sheer discomfort.

“How could I run away? I have debts to settle and pride to maintain. I need to repay this before I leave.”

Clatter.

The wooden case she had been carrying tumbled to the ground as she showcased her skills, kicking it open.

“Did you really think I would just run away after threatening me? Ha, you’ve underestimated me!”

“I told you this isn’t a fight for you to be in. Are you not afraid of death?”

“If I were afraid of such words, I would never have come here. I’ve had it rough enough as it is.”

Veronica’s response to Nathaniel’s blatant threat was strikingly simple.

She began picking at her ear, using her right hand for one ear, her left for the other. With a puff of breath from the fingers that scraped her ear,

To put it politely, it meant she wouldn’t even bother to listen to such words—bluntly put, it was a huge “screw you.”

“I’m someone who doesn’t even listen to the Pope, so do you think I’d take a word from a walking pigeon?”

With a demeanor that screamed annoyance, she ignored the angel’s words and pulled something from the case.

“Not even the old geezers at the Holy See can judge me! Cardinals, Bishops, Archbishops, the Inquisition Leader, not even the Pope himself!”

What emerged from the box was an old, centuries-old musket—a legendary weapon believed to have been gifted by a demon to some famous sharpshooter.

With a single bullet, it could pierce both the heart and head of a target—the musket that fired eternal doom.

Holding the legendary weapon once used to assassinate a Pope, the saint pointed it at the angel.

“That’s the limit of church law!”

 

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