On top of the building, the five individuals stood in a standoff.
"Who are you, and why are you violating the peace treaty between humans and demons?" Bynum, the gray-haired man, asked, his voice firm and commanding after he broke through his montary lapses.
He had achieved his power and status through effort and talent, making his will power quite strong.
After a couple more seconds, the other hunters also broke through their confusion, and everyone clenched the hilt of their katana, knowing full well that they had almost succumbed to her charm.
They were now ready to move at a mont's notice.
Slowly, they shifted into a loose formation, each hunter positioning themselves strategically to avoid the threat of getting taken out by a large scale attack.
Bynum, the gray-haired leader, was at the forefront. His stance was wide and solid, feet planted firmly on the ground.
He wore a white kimono, its fabric clean and crisp against the backdrop of the battle.
His katana, sheathed at his side, was adorned with ancient symbols of so kind of bird, hinting at the power and heritage he carried.
To his left stood Jaren, a towering figure at 6'5" with dreadlocks falling down his dark skin.
His muscles were well-defined and bulging under the sunlight, and instead of a full kimono, he wore only half of one, leaving his upper body exposed.
His katana was larger and longer than the rest, resting comfortably at his back, a clear sign that he was soone who focused more raw strength .
On Bynum's right stood the middle-aged man with brown hair called Nekola. His expression was one of annoyance, but his stance showed a deep-seated readiness.
Like Bynum, he wore a white kimono. His katana rested comfortably at his side, the hilt worn from years of use, a testant to the many battles he had fought.
The fourth hunter, a younger man with blonde hair, stood slightly behind the others. His eyes were focused, sharp and attentive.
He wore a black and yellow kimono, the vibrant yellow complenting his hair color and adding a touch of brightness to his appearance.
anwhile, Angela remained suspended in the air, exuding confidence that betrayed any hint of intimidation by the hunters' presence.
She had expected them to arrive with an army, as humans love to that, but to her surprise, there were only four hunters before her.
While they might be powerful in their own right, they posed little threat to her.
A normal Demon Lord might have found them hard to handle, but Angela was different.
As an angel, her potential and standards were far higher than the average, even among those of the sa rank.
She was confident in her superiority, her divine essence elevating her beyond the reach of mortals.
Their gazes lingered on her, scrutinizing every detail—the golden aura, the ethereal wings, the halo above her head.
It was a sight that would have been deed holy in any other context, but in a world where the existence of angels was considered a myth, they couldn't fathom the truth before them.
Despite the unmistakable signs of her divine nature, none of the hunters entertained the possibility that she was a real-life angel.
After all, so demons could manipulate reality itself with illusions, they assud she was just another manifestation of demonic trickery.
"I'll ask again… Who are you?" Bynum broke the silence.
Angela's lips curved into a smile, her golden aura shimring around her.
"I don't really have to tell you anything," she answered casually. "But let's just say I have my reasons for being here, reasons that you re mortals wouldn't understand."
She did not declare that she was an angel.
This misunderstanding would better aid her, as she also did not want her siblings to know about what she was up to.
If they caught wind of her actions, it could complicate matters and potentially destroy her plans.
Bynum's tone was direct but composed as he addressed Angela, "This goes against the treaty. You're clearly a demon lord, which ans you shouldn't be doing this. Co with us and explain yourself."
Angela raised her eyebrows, her tone a bit annoyed, "Will you believe if I said I'm innocent? And I find it rather audacious that you would even suggest I surrender for a sin I never committed."
Bynum's response was quick, his gaze narrowing as he spoke, "You think we will just believe you after all these deaths?"
With each word, his breathing grew heavier, the air around him vibrating with power.
It was a simple movent, but it showcased just how powerful each breath was.
His display of strength served as a warning to Angela, emphasizing that the hunters were not to be underestimated.
'So this is the breathing technique humans developed?' Angela pondered, her tone a bit disappointed.
She touched her chin, her gaze fixed on Bynum's heaving chest with a skeptical expression.
This technique might be impressive to humans, but it was trivial to angels.
For Angela, the notion of needing rigorous physical training to gain power only showed the inferiority of humans.
It was a reminder that they had to rely on such thods just to mimic a fraction of an angel's power.
'I knew it. These inferior beings don't deserve to be protected.'
mories of the rules imposed upon her by her own father flooded her mind, and she couldn't help but resent the fact that angels like herself relied on human devotion and faith to exist.
She wasn't the first archangel to hold such contempt.
Her sister, Fer, had orchestrated a revolt against their father long before humans even knew how to create fire.
Fer insisted that superior beings like themselves should not be bound by a species of dumb, idiotic animals that resembled monkeys and rallied an army against her father.
But her rebellion had ended in exile from heaven instead of the freedom she had sought.
'Maybe they could show sothing interesting,' she mused to herself, a hint of curiosity creeping into her thoughts.
The breathing technique was created long after the world locked itself from heaven. Angela was curious to test its power, to see if it was sothing she needed to be concerned about or rely party tricks created by humans.
As a test, she raised her arm, prompting the four hunters to instinctively draw their swords simultaneously and unleash their attacks.
In high-level battles, the one who struck first held a big advantage.
"Storm Falcon, Breathing Technique, Tornado Blade," Bynum's voice echoed.
As his blade was unsheathed, the wind instantly coalesced around it, forming a powerful spinning tornado flew straight to her.
Nekola mirrored his movents, unleashing the sa attack.
The two powers rged, creating a much larger tornado, its swirling mass big enough to devour a small building
Windows shattered as the imnse wind pressure from the attack generated force.
Angela watched the incoming attack with a calm deanor.
As the powerful vortex of wind barreled toward her, she gently summoned a golden musical instrunt, a harp materializing in her hands.
"Angel Cry," she uttered.
With one delicate pluck of the strings, a powerful high pitch sound wave burst forth from the instrunt.
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