I Conquer Hell and Heaven With 666 Trillion Coins

That...was a good thing. At least for the first few seconds.

But the enemies facing them were no ordinary warriors. The initial hail of arrows had been intended merely as a distraction. Dean realised this a few seconds later.

The arrows had stopped abruptly. Silence had descended upon the area. This silence had lasted only half a second and was suddenly shattered by a shout:

"They’re coming from the right!" one of the friendly angels had cried out.

At that very moment, three enemy angels had burst out from amongst the trees.

As they’d kept their wings folded right up until the last moment, they’d made almost no sound.

The first person they attacked wasn’t Dean.

It was Percival.

"CLANG!"

Three different holy weapons had come down on Percival at the same time.

A spear, a double-edged axe and a long sword...

Percival managed to parry all three by holding his sword horizontally with both hands.

However, the impact was so immense that even his colossal body was sent sliding back several metres.

The ground beneath his feet was cracking, leaving deep gouges.

"How powerful..." muttered one of the enemy angels.

At that very moment, a fourth enemy angel glided down from the sky.

His target was Dean himself.

"Now!"

The slender sword in the enemy angel’s hand shot towards Dean’s throat at a speed too fast to follow with the naked eye.

Dean’s pupils had contracted.

His reflexes acted faster than his brain’s motor functions. He raised his spear in a cross-guard stance.

"CLANG!"

As the two weapons clashed, blinding sparks flew in all directions. An immense amount of holy energy spread out around them with devastating force.

Both of Dean’s arms had gone numb.

It was as if a massive boulder had fallen on him and he was trying to lift it.

"Is that all?"

The enemy angel grinned contemptuously.

Despite pressing down with one hand, both of Dean’s arms had begun to drop.

The difference in physical strength between them was terrifying.

"You don’t deserve that spear."

Dean gritted his teeth.

"Shut up!" he shouted. He knew he didn’t deserve the spear right now, but he was certain he would become someone worthy of it in the future.

Using his whole body, he swung his spear to the side.

Caught off guard by this unexpected move, the enemy angel lost his balance by half a step.

Dean didn’t let this opportunity slip by.

He pulled his spear back, twisted his waist, shifted all his weight onto a single point and... thrust it forward.

"Thunk!"

The enemy angel had managed to twist his torso to the side at the last moment.

The spear had missed his heart but had completely pierced his left shoulder.

"AAAAAGH!"

Screaming in pain, the angel leapt backwards swiftly. White and red blood spurted from his shoulder simultaneously.

The tall commander standing in the distance raised his eyebrows for the first time upon seeing this.

"A human... has wounded a High Angel."

One of the soldiers beside him spoke in astonishment.

"Commander, that weapon..."

"It’s strengthening his body."

The commander slowly shook his head from side to side.

"No," he said.

"It’s not the weapon that’s truly growing stronger."

He fixed his gaze on Dean.

"It’s that man."

"With every strike, he becomes a little more attuned to the weapon. It’s as if the weapon itself is helping him... What sort of spear is this?"

These words had not reached Dean’s ears, for he could see that the wounded angel opposite him was preparing to attack once more.

But this time, the enemy was not alone.

Two more angels had descended to his side.

All three instantly surrounded Dean from different directions at the same time. The moment Percival realised this, he roared in fury.

"MASTER!"

But the three enemies in front of him were holding him in place. Although the powerful ghost Percival was doing his utmost, he simply couldn’t manage to break free from these three enemy angels who were barely holding him back.

He couldn’t even take a single step, let alone get up from where he was.

For the first time, Dean was completely on his own.

Three enemy angels...

Three different angles...

There was nowhere to flee.

One of them chuckled softly.

"Neutralise him; you’ve heard the commander’s orders."

Just as all three lunged forward at once, the Spear of Dawn in Dean’s hand suddenly trembled slightly.

Thin lines of light, barely visible to the naked eye, began to radiate from the golden engravings on the spear.

Dean hadn’t done this deliberately, but the spear was reacting as if it sensed the approaching danger.

Three enemy angels had lunged at them simultaneously from different directions.

Their coordination was flawless.

One was blocking Dean’s line of sight, another was heading for his feet, whilst the third was waiting behind him, ready to deliver the fatal blow.

This was a hunting tactic they’d practised countless times.

Dean could see this.

But realising it wasn’t enough to stop them.

"Clang!"

He had barely managed to parry the first blow.

As the long shaft of his spear clashed with the enemy angel’s sword, both his arms went numb once more.

Before he could even regain his balance, the second attack came.

This time from below.

Dean had instinctively leapt backwards.

The sharp spearhead had grazed his knees, missing by just a few centimetres.

"You’re far too slow, human!"

At that very moment, the third angel flapped its wings vigorously. It soared upwards into the air.

At that very moment, it began to descend from the sky like a bolt of lightning.

The moment Dean looked up, he could see the glowing holy sword.

His instincts were screaming.

[I’m going to die!]

Without a moment’s hesitation, he threw his whole body to the side.

"BOOM!"

The moment the sword plunged into the ground, the earth was hurled metres into the air. Dean rolled over and got to his feet. His breathing was ragged.

None of the three angels facing him was in any hurry.

For them, this wasn’t a battle...

It was a hunt.

And Dean was the prey.

"Interesting. You’re still managing to evade me."

The angel, whose shoulder had been slashed, turned his arm slightly.

White and red blood was still dripping from the wound. Yet it looked as though the wound was healing.

"You managed to hurt me."

"But only once."

Dean didn’t reply.

He gripped his spear once more. He’d swallowed hard. His breathing was still very irregular. His consciousness felt as though it were betraying him; indeed, his head had begun to spin slightly.

He couldn’t keep up with their speed.

So rather than keeping up with them, he could watch their movements.

He fixed his gaze on the footwork of the three angels.

Perhaps the constant rush of adrenaline coursing through his body was helping him, but despite everything, he was still on his feet.

The friendly angels around him hadn’t died.

They, too, were still fighting. They just couldn’t help Dean.

He... was still on his own.

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