My Soul card is a Reaper
Chapter 784 - 784: The world of Irth (part-50)

"Your Brother? You have a brother, Ancestor?" Azzy asked the founder spirit remnant. In the history of the Death Clan, there were no records that their founder had siblings. The history shows that their founder was the only son of the Garcia Family head, who later became the General to Emperor Arthur, and after his death, he went on to establish the Death Clan, alongside eight other generals.

The founder's remnant spirit didn't clear his doubts and instead simply replied. "It's a long story."

Azzy could sense complicated feelings from his ancestor, and he didn't press it either. Instead, he paid full attention to the reality happening before his eyes as Adam's voice then rang out like thunder across the colosseum.

"Preposterous!" The son of God growled, his eyes flashing with fury. "Not even Zeus had the right to intrude upon this sacred place uninvited. You will regret this!"

The angels in the audience section looked on, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief on their faces.

Who was this person? What was he doing here? And how dare he defy Adam in such a brazen manner, when there are 11 Archangels around?

The stranger's smile didn't falter. Without a word, he raised both his hands in response. With a wave of his palm, a dozen enormous beasts materialized in a flash of energy.

A ram with curved horns, gleaming with divine energy

A bull with eyes that burned like coals.

Twin kids that leapt gracefully beside each other, their movements swift and fluid.

A crab, its pincers as large as houses.

A Lion, letting out a piercing roar, enough to instill panic in the hearts of the spectators

And many more creatures, each one representing a symbol of the zodiac.

The Archangels recoiled, their eyes wide with shock. Some of them flapped their wings, collectively flying toward Adam and standing beside to face these beasts.

"This... this cannot be real," Jehudial murmured.

Uriel, the first to recover, gasped, his face going pale. "It's him... It's Raphael Garcia—The Zodiac God."

The name hit like a thunderclap to the Archangels. Meanwhile, murmurs spread in the audience section, everyone wondering who he was and what was his connection to the Archangels.

"Raphael Garcia..." Uriel repeated, his voice thick with awe and fear. "The only being who ever defeated Michael."

The room was in chaos. The angels in the arena couldn't believe their ears. Michael—the Archangel, the greatest warrior Elysium had ever known—was defeated? By this teenage-looking whatever he was? It was too impossible to fathom.

But Adam's expression remained cold, though a deep frown tugged at his features. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the growing sense of unease.

"I've heard of you, Raphael," Adam sneered, trying to mask his fear. "But if you think you can just walk in here and do as you please, you're dreaming."

Raphael didn't even flinch.

Instead, he smirked, raising his hand and beckoning the beasts to converge.

They obeyed, melding together in a swirl of power, until a massive sword, gleaming with the energy of the twelve zodiac creatures, formed in his palm.

"You're welcome to try," Raphael said, his voice carrying a chilling edge. "But if you do, you might want to remember something. You'll need more than just your flaming sword to stand against me. And for your information, Raphael Garcia was no longer my name. I abandoned that name when I became immortal. It is now, Raphael Ben Noah."

In a flash, Raphael then charged forward.

"Move aside," Adam ordered the four Archangels who had come to his side earlier.

He too charged forward, flying toward the incoming enemy, swinging down the sword.

In a fraction of a second, both collided in an explosion, the clash of their weapons sending shockwaves through the colosseum.

And when the blinding flash of light dimmed, Adam floated there, his eyes widened in shock. The flaming sword in his hand was seen shattered into pieces, disintegrating rapidly. Raphael raised his zodiac sword and rested it over his shoulder, spinning around his body and unleashing a powerful round kick that sent Adam flying through the air.

The Archangels watched in stunned silence as Adam crashed into the very throne he had been sitting on, blood trickling from his lips.

As Adam groaned in pain, struggling to rise, Raphael raised the sword and rested it on his shoulders, staring at the Archangels. "Anyone who wants to try? Come at me. But remember... if you do, you should be prepared for the destruction of Silver City. I don't care what happens to your realm either way."

The Archangels exchanged uneasy glances. Some of them shifted uncomfortably in their thrones. Others remained frozen in place, too stunned to speak. The audience fell into complete silence, no one dared to speak aloud after watching Adam be defeated just like that.

Azzy, still hovering in the background, couldn't believe what he was witnessing. "This is power."

A tense silence followed Raphael's ultimatum. Not even the wind dared stir.

Then, Raguel, the Archangel of Justice, flew from his throne, the weight of authority settling across his shoulders.

Facing Raphael directly, a radiant bow of divine light formed in his hands, glowing with such intensity that the marble beneath his feet cracked. His expression was unreadable—neither furious nor calm, but firm, final.

"We can leave this matter alone and forgive your impudence," Raguel declared, "provided the culprit hands over the soul fragment of our Creator. We would rather see Silver City burn in flames than let a mortal have the powers of our Creator. Yes, you are powerful. But, are you powerful enough to defend yourself and the mortal at the same time?"

"This foolish brother of ours… Can't he see the difference in powers? Why was he still using that tone as if he were superior?" Some Archangels collectively cursed him in their heads.

Amidst the turmoil, Azzy, who had remained silent through the chaos, stepped forward.

"You can kill me if you would like," Azzy said bitterly, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Or extinguish my soul entirely. I don't care anymore. But you will never see your Supreme Angel again."

The audience gasped once more. Several guards gripped their weapons. Some Archangels visibly tensed.

Azzy's gaze swept over them as he continued, "I didn't say anything till now because I felt guilty to kill Claire with these hands of mine, even though it's forced. However, seeing you lot so greedy for the powers of the Supreme Angel, I realize you never cared about Claire. You lot only care whether you can revive the Supreme Angel or destroy him. Claire was living happily the life of a mortal on earth, but you lot forced Claire, my Claire, to give up everything and made her a puppet. You forced her to abandon her love, her existence, all for the sake of your ambition—resurrection of your so-called Creator. Why? So that you can just occupy more and more worlds, snatching the power from Zeus. And you Angels claim yourselves as divine order and the arbiters of truth, peace, and justice to the mortal?" Azzy spat out his saliva, insulting them in rage and hatred.

With thousands of gazes, mixed ones, on him, Azzy continued to roar, his eyes reddending in anger. "The fragment for which Claire prepared to destroy her own existence can never land on your hands, ever."

His words struck like thunder in the colosseum. Many angels bowed their heads. Some looked away in shame. But others—those still loyal to the so-called balance of Heaven—burned with righteous fury.

"GUARDS! SEAL THIS PLACE!" Raguel roared in response to Azzy's accusation, "BROTHERS, KILL THEM!"

The seraphim stationed around the colosseum raised their staves, casting divine seals into the sky.

Blinding barriers of white fire surged up, sealing every exit.

The Archangels stood in unison, their combined pressure warping the very air.

Raphael's grip on his zodiac-forged blade tightened. He didn't seem to take them seriously at all. "You heard the kid. Now, be prepared for the consequences." His silver hair stood up as the aura of divinity enveloped his body and the sword.

And then, just when the battlefield was seconds from eruption—

A voice heard all over the arena: Calm, commanding, and resonant.

"Enough."

The sound echoed not just through the colosseum, but into the very core of every angel present. It wasn't just heard—it was like a command passed onto their souls.

Adam's breath caught. His pupils widened. He spoke a name, half in awe, half in surprise, "Michael?"

But the voice corrected him, with a gentleness that carried more authority than any scream.

"It is Mikha'el, Adam."

A golden light descended from above, and with it, a figure whose presence demanded reverence. The Seraphim seals dimmed slightly at his arrival, as if the holy fire itself bowed before him.

Mikha'el, one of the twelve Archangels, the Supreme Commander of Elysium and the strongest Archangel, descended not in war, but in judgment. His armor was pristine, his wings unfurled in celestial light.

There was sorrow in his gaze—and exhaustion. He looked toward his brothers.

"Stand down, Brothers," Mikha'el said. "Let them go."

"Michael!" Adam opened his mouth to object, but Mikha'el silenced him with a glare. "It was my daughter who was killed," he said in a sorrowful tone. "It was my duty to guard the Lord's soul fragment. It was my world that the human entered." His voice dropped. "And it is my decision... to deal with him. Not you, not my brothers. It is my right. And I let him go."

No one dared speak. Even Raguel's bow dimmed, its light shrinking with the sheer finality of Mikha'el's words.

Then Mikha'el turned to Raphael, his expression softening slightly for the first time. "It has been a while, Raphael."

Raphael exhaled slowly, lowering his sword. "Indeed, Mikha'el. A very long while."

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