The leading angel furrowed his brows as he finally acknowledged the approaching figures.
"And who might you be?" he asked, voice dripping with disdain. "A word of advice—do not meddle in matters that do not concern you."
The two angels behind him shifted their attention toward Eztein. They released a fraction of their mighty pressure just enough to make the ground quiver and the leaves tremble.
Yet Eztein walked forward unfazed.
His eyes drifted between the three airborne angels… and the battered woman bleeding on the ground.
"So whose side are we taking?" Doranjan asked beside him, his tone dark with anticipation.
Eztein didn't look back. His voice was calm, almost casual.
"Naturally, the weak." He glanced at Esriel. "Even if we helped those three, I doubt they'd reward us with anything useful. But aiding the desperate… that's a different story."
The three angels' expressions tightened. They had heard every word.
