Why can't humans do it too?

What is He waiting for?

Living entirely on the back of Abant Heim, a fantasy species, countless scattered giant blocks are randomly piled up here. The various houses and facilities of the Skywing species exist among these blocks where there are no roads in the usual sense. It is impossible to grasp the exact size of the city because the distance and size of space are meaningless here. But even in such a strange city, there is still a grand hall that is more magnificent than other buildings. That is the throne where the God of War Arteshu has been sitting for many years.

Aside from the fact that more than a decade ago, Jibril, as the youngest extra individual among the Skywing race, exceeded all expectations of those who were paying attention to her existence, and actually broke through the limits of her race to defeat and kill the Dragon Spirit race, she stood up and walked to Jibril's side to talk to her because she was too eager. Apart from that, this God-type has been sitting on his throne for who knows how many years.

In this great hall, even the Skywing race, who are usually crazy and talk about killing and war, will be filled with awe and be respectful before their god. Reports and audiences with the God of War, Artes, also take place here.

With a body so enormous that one could only look up at it, the appearance of the God of War Arteshu in the real world was closer to the concept of a god than that of Okan. His thick, straight black beard, as thick as steel, spread out fiercely, and eighteen horizontal wings stood on his back, clinging to his body like an overcoat. One could never ignore the sharp, golden light emanating from his deep face, which was enough to exert a sense of oppression on any life he looked at, even without uttering a word.

Just being stared at can cause numbness in the mind, yet even such a form that inspires awe and revels in His glory is but a tiny, insignificant manifestation of His immense power, like a drop of water in the ocean.

Staring blankly at the unparalleled power of her revered master, Jibril found herself inexplicably reminded of the dumplings she had made from her own hands on that day called New Year's Day in that dilapidated ruined city, dumplings made from dough... Jibril suddenly wanted to laugh, and indeed she did.

"puff……"

"Little Ji!!!"

Following Jibril's laughter was Azriel, who was kneeling beside her, turning her head in astonishment and letting out a low gasp. For this eldest sister of all the Winged Races, even though Jibril had repeatedly shown her arrogant and disrespectful side in front of their master, such a disrespectful gesture was still unacceptable to her.

"I'm so sorry, Lord Artesius, little Ji just—"

【No problem. 】

Azriel's hasty words to exonerate Jibril were interrupted by Altshu's casual wave of his hand before she could finish. The god-like being even leaned forward, staring at Jibril with considerable curiosity.

My wings, why do you laugh?

Jibril certainly wouldn't say, "I used to make a dough version of you and then bit off your head myself." This wasn't the right time to joke around. Besides, as mentioned before, although she fought, beheaded, and spoke rudely to her Creator, she was truly a good Skywing.

So-called rude remarks are nothing more than an attempt to discern the true desires of one's Creator and to achieve the goals He desires.

“I was just thinking about some interesting viewpoints I heard when I went out some time ago. Although they are somewhat laughable due to the limitations of my strength and perspective, after some thought, I decided to present those words to you in the hope that they can provide some ideas for the problems that are troubling you,” Jibril said, also kneeling.

[If you find this interesting, then please speak freely; there's no need to be shy.]

More casual than many races had guessed, the God of War, Artes, simply nodded, awaiting the answer brought back by the little winged creature he favored and most anticipated. He was indeed looking forward to the question that had troubled him for nearly countless years.

The reason for the weak to fight.

The reason why the strong fight.

The thing that the strongest desires to appear.

The words Suer once spoke, and the questions he once asked her—whether there is anything created by one's own will, not for killing, but simply for creation, something unrelated, even utterly useless.

With her head bowed, she slowly recounted her story, and images of her running around with Sue and that annoying weed gradually flashed through Jibril's mind.

Chapter 254 The Will of the God of War

How long has it been since she last saw them?

She finished recounting all the questions and answers in a short time, then remained silent, her lowered eyes slightly dazed.

The deliberate avoidance, and even the reasons for not seeing them again, easily surfaced in my mind. The curiosity and desire to see new things and great deeds that I once had were all buried, as if nothing had happened.

After the God of War, Arteshu, gave the order to wait for the right moment, Azriel and Raphael were surprised to find that Jibril, who in the past could not be patient even after her body shrank following a failed challenge against a superior race and always sneaked out, was now quite obediently staying in Avant Heim. She was so obedient that they could hardly believe that she was the same rebellious extra individual.

But Jibril was indeed there, staying in her own room, and there was nothing unusual about her, whether she was talking normally or dealing with Azriel's increasingly frequent harassment.

As Jibril finished speaking, silence descended upon the magnificent hall. Seemingly lost in deep thought because of Jibril's words, the God of War rested his head on his throne, lost in contemplation, while Jibril and Azriel remained kneeling in place.

"Well, in the end, it's just words used by the weak who can't fight back to comfort themselves, isn't it?" Not only was the God of War pondering Jibril's words, but Azriel was also thinking about it. After a while, she muttered, "Absolute power cannot be erased by words. The countless enemies we've defeated in the past didn't change anything just because they were weaker than us... Honestly, what strange guys has Jibril met since she went out there?"

Like an older sister complaining that her most beloved younger sister had been kidnapped, Azriel grumbled as she snuggled up to Jibril, only to be pushed away with her face pressed in disgust.

【That is not the case.】

The unexpected words froze Azriel, who was still hoping to take the opportunity to play around with Jibril. These were the words of the god she revered.

[A weakling who tries hard...]

He wasn't speaking to Azriel; the God of War was still talking to himself.

It's not about becoming the strongest, but about craving a battle where both sides are evenly matched and you can enjoy it to the fullest, or perhaps it's about relishing the thrill of successfully slaying a powerful enemy after a fierce fight...

So, he just longs to fight enemies stronger than himself... a side story character, huh?

The God of War, who had been lost in thought and muttering to himself as if he had found some answer, suddenly raised his head. His sharp eyes, which shone with golden light, were now leaping with excitement as he suddenly called out Jibril's name.

“My Lord, I am right here,” Jibril said, shoving Azriel aside and respectfully lowering the wings at her waist.

Do you agree with this answer? What answer are you referring to?

"..."

She bit her lower lip hard, a hesitation that even Azriel could see, but that hesitation eventually turned into determination. Under the gazes of Altshu and Azriel, Jibril nodded steadily and slowly.

"I can't comprehend your strength, Master, but for me, the feeling of challenging someone stronger than myself, fighting on despite repeated defeats, racking my brains and using every possible method to become stronger, and finally achieving victory is the feeling that brings me genuine joy," Jibril recalled with her eyes closed, a joyful smile even appearing on her lips, as if she were reliving that relaxing and comfortable feeling that made her feel relaxed and at ease.

"I was incredibly excited and fulfilled. Those times I spent striving to become stronger, that sense of fulfillment during battles—the measure of strength itself is meaningless. I only need to know that the Dragon Spirit is stronger than me. How much stronger is irrelevant. I just want to enjoy those happy times, and I will never be satisfied... My Lord, this is my truest feeling."

Having revealed her most genuine thoughts to the Creator without missing a single detail, Jibril returned to silence.

Silence, but this silence did not last long, for what followed was the laughter of the God of War, a wild laugh, that filled the hall!

Hahahaha!

What joyful laughter! It was as if the earth, parched for countless years, had finally received the nourishment of rain. The God of War was experiencing the joy in his heart, laughing heartily at the emotions felt by His tiny wings.

Instead of joining in the laughter, Jibril and Azriel simply lowered their heads more respectfully.

After a long while, the God of War, Artesius, finally stopped laughing and turned his gaze back to His wings.

Doesn't this completely negate my inner conflict?

"Meow!!!"

A single sentence was enough to make Azriel scream in shock. The emerald-haired winged creature hurriedly grabbed Jibril beside her, trying to offer some explanation, but Altshu simply flicked a finger and rendered her speechless.

Is this the concrete manifestation of the answer I've been desperately seeking? Or is it simply the survival strategy of the weak?

My wings, you have seen sights I could never see... Be proud of them.

Almost with a joyful sound, to Azriel's astonishment, the God of War, Arteshu, even stood up directly from his throne. He gazed into the distance, his gaze piercing through the entire existence of Avant Heim, looking down at the land below.

Is it there? The weakling yearning to challenge me…

The words, spoken as if to himself, came from the God of War's mouth, filled with boundless anticipation and longing, an excitement that seemed almost impossible to contain.

Have you noticed anything unusual lately, Azriel?

“Yes, it seems there are little mice mimicking our power and challenging those ground squirrels. Shall we go and get rid of them?” Azriel said respectfully.

"Is that so? It seems my enemy has already made their move..."

Every syllable was filled with joyful exclamations.

Even though her master was enjoying himself, Jibril realized something. She knelt down and raised her head, her eyes widening uncontrollably, even showing a hint of fear that should never have appeared.

“My Lord, they are nothing but powerless weaklings,” Jibril’s voice trembled slightly, yet her words were met with a resounding denial.

No, that was not a weakling, but an enemy I had to face squarely, a worthy opponent.

His sharp, golden gaze was filled with genuine joy, and he even felt immense regret that he had understood this truth too late.

Go, Azriel.

Turning back to gaze at the land beneath the sky, the God of War, Artesius, spoke with utmost solemnity.

Send my greetings to those I consider my enemies.

"...Yes, my Lord."

Kneeling on the ground with her hand on her chest, accepting the order, only at times like this could one see Azriel's majestic presence as she commanded all the Skywing races, a far cry from her usual comical demeanor.

Chapter 255 Return

The so-called tripartite balance is ultimately just wishful thinking on the part of Sur, Ronnie, and Xinke. Putting aside Sur and Xinke, who have already stood together, even if Ronnie has a macro-level understanding of the current situation and has achieved this balance through a tacit understanding, this fragile balance is ultimately just their subjective conjecture.

Yes, the Skywing race is indeed intelligent enough to see the current situation on the continent. However, having stood in the heavens from the beginning, they don't care about this game between the weak. What keeps them in check is not their fear of the combined forces of the Goblin Alliance and the Forest Elf Alliance, but the command given by their god—to wait for the right opportunity.

But today, that order was lifted.

Send my greetings to those I consider my enemies.

The words of the God of War spread throughout the entire Skywing race in an instant. These beings, who possessed the beautiful appearance that Suer recognized, cheered and gathered, yearning for a fierce and exhilarating battle. The death of the enemy, their own death, it didn't matter.

Although they didn't know who their gods considered their enemies, or who else in the world was worthy of being the enemy of their invincible gods, this long wait was finally over.

He gave his life for his master, and to enjoy the war, he hung his most precious head on the building of Abant Heim.

The Skywings spread their wings and glided across the blood-red sky in large groups, even piercing through the black and gray storms they passed through, traveling along the straightest route.

As the strongest of the three parties, the movements of the God of War and the Skywing race are closely watched. Such a large-scale mobilization cannot be concealed, and the Skywing race has no intention of hiding anything.

"I never expected you, Jibril, to refuse to be the leader of a team... and you're hiding at the very back..." Azriel, who was flying at the front, suddenly appeared beside Jibril, who was flying at the back of the team, and muttered, "In the past, you would definitely have volunteered. So, something went wrong after all?"

"There's no problem," Jibril replied immediately, giving a negative answer. She then pushed Azriel, who was practically pressed against her, away with a look of disgust. "I just feel that you're the only one who should be leading the way at a time like this. Aren't you going back to the front, annoying senior?"

The friendly interaction between Jibril and Azriel was hardly a secret among the Skywing race. The other Skywing race members around them just smiled and waved, even speeding up to symbolically avoid them.

“A person?” Azriel repeated, her tone suddenly becoming more forceful.

The words came out completely subconsciously. Only after they left her mouth did Jibril realize something was wrong. Although she didn't have a heart as an organ, she felt the same kind of sudden, throbbing sensation that Sue had once described.