The Third Land Legion hadn’t noticed their situation yet, but the sky’s unnatural shift had already placed them on high alert.

Here, however, things looked grim. The Archangel’s injuries—or rather, the poison coursing through her—were likely as severe as the mole claimed. The nuns’ healing did nothing. Faint sobs drifted from the circle of nuns huddled around her.

What now?

Kroso glanced up. The ominous black clouds had coalesced into a monstrous claw. The demons of the Abyss were moments from completing ultra-long-distance teleportation.

Such magic demanded colossal power—sacrificing numerous powerful demons. Few would arrive, but every one would be elite.

Since the Archangel named their foe a Demon Lord of the Abyss, Kroso trusted her judgment. But why were they here? For the Archangel herself?

Given the mole’s timing and frantic tone, Kroso estimated ninety percent probability.

Then—

“Get out of the way!”

Sensing the cursed claw lunging straight for them, Kroso’s eyes sharpened. No time left. He spun, dashed to the Archangel’s side, roared to scatter the nuns, and swept Sylvia’s unconscious form into his arms.

“What are you doing?!”

“Beast! How dare you touch the holy Archangel! Kill him!”

The nuns had hoped the Imperial General held a cure. Instead, he was carrying her off. Outrage flared. Fanatical believers’ faces twisted; they surged forward, ready to tear him apart.

Kroso wasted no second. Cradling Sylvia, he flashed onto the rooftop, evading their attacks.

“I can’t guarantee traitors aren’t among you—or loyalty within the Third Land Legion. I won’t leave the Archangel here. Rendezvous with the Legion. I swear on my life: I will protect her.”

He didn’t wait for replies. He shot away from the encampment at full speed.

As predicted, the sky-claw pivoted toward him—but too massive, too slow. Kroso swiftly left it far behind.

He couldn’t let the Archangel fall within Imperial territory. If she did, The Church would blame the Holy City’s Royal Family, launch a purge. Public support would vanish. The alliance would shatter. Humanity would plunge into chaos.

And Sylvia’s fate was tied to his mentor, General Gene. For duty and heart, he *had* to succeed.

Kroso’s face stayed blank, but ruthlessness glinted in his eyes.

“Huff…”

Cradling Sylvia’s petite, soft body, he plunged from a hill into dense woods, deliberately slowing.

He knew escape was impossible. A fight awaited. He was gathering momentum—waiting to crush the Demon Lord’s vanguard.

Carrying her hindered combat. He undid her white sash, tightly binding her to his chest so she wouldn’t fall mid-fight.

Her body felt warm. Her forehead burned. The poison hadn’t receded—it was spreading.

His mentor suffered the same. Worry tightened his chest. *Could even the Archangel’s Body of Holy Spirit resist Abyssal poison?*

“Whoosh!”

A sharp rush sliced through the shadowed trees. Kroso’s brow twitched. Ambush. He’d expected it. Calmly, he drew his waist-sword.

“Screech!”

A piercing shriek. From the dark, the vanguard materialized—a high-rank succubus. Flawless curves, seductive face, skin flushed pink.

Kroso blinked in surprise. High-rank succubi were rare even in the Abyss army. Used *just* as a vanguard? Such arrogance.

No time to rethink. Evade first. A level-70+ demon? Even head-on, victory was unlikely now.

“Hmph! Trying to run?”

Seeing his retreat, the succubus’s pink heart-shaped pupils shimmered with hypnotic allure.

*Soul Charm.* Her ultimate move—deployed instantly. She was certain of victory.

Kroso’s near-vanished form froze mid-motion. Pink heart patterns bloomed in his eyes.

“My, my~ So easily caught? How boring~”

She laughed, contempt dripping from her smile.

“Hmm~ Up close… not bad-looking, little guy. But far too weak to satisfy big sister. What a pity~”

Her fingers traced his cheek—gentle, yet leaving crimson trails. He stood utterly still.

“So *this* is humanity’s ‘strongest,’ the Archangel of Supremacy? Hehe… Just an underdeveloped little girl. Why does Lord Ross crave her? She’s not half as lovely as me. Honestly…”

Uninterested in the instantly defeated Kroso, her gaze shifted to Sylvia. Disdain and hostility sharpened her tone.

But as she reached to snatch the girl—

Her hand remained stuck on his cheek. Unmoving.

What?

The succubus froze, astonishment flooding her face.