Marvel : I'm in Westview Town-Chapter 177

The Other Side

Within the Angel Faction.

Almost all the Angels had taken to the front lines. At this moment, not a single one of them backed down.

Even though the enemy was overwhelmingly powerful, they could not allow the demonic forces to breach their defensive perimeter. If the protective barrier collapsed, their homeland would be reduced to ash.

That outcome was simply unacceptable.

"What do we do, Patriarch?! The Angels holding the line are about to fall!"

One of the younger Angels rushed before the aged patriarch, dropping to one knee. His voice trembled with urgency, the usual poise in his expression gone.

The patriarch's brow furrowed. Even he hadn't expected the enemy assault to come so fast—like a hellfire storm unleashed.

"Hasn't Stephen arrived yet?"

Earlier, he'd bartered what resources he had left to request Stephen's intervention. But as the situation continued to spiral out of control, it was clear that without immediate reinforcements, their forces would be decimated.

A growing tension knotted in his chest—anxiety thickening the air like smoke before the blaze.

BOOM!!!

Not far from their command post, the battlefield lit up with fire and fury. The land was scorched, buildings crumbled to ruin—nothing left untouched by chaos.

HUMMMM...

Suddenly, as if the world itself paused, everything went silent.

An unnatural stillness fell over the realm. A bitter, piercing cold surged through the space, replacing the fiery heat from moments before.

The Angels, even those hardened by countless battles, shivered involuntarily. It was as if the battlefield had turned into an icy wasteland—bone-chilling and merciless.

Round after round of pressure blanketed the air. It wasn't like the wild energy of demons or mutants. It was something deeper. More ancient. A suffocating power that pressed on their very souls.

An invisible, crushing force radiated from the battlefield. It wasn't wild, but calm. Horrifyingly calm.

An aura of absolute indifference.

Not apathy, but obliteration.

In mere seconds, the battlefield was submerged in that eerie, silent dread. The icy power poured over them like ink in clear water—spreading and tainting everything in its path.

Despair took root.

The kind of despair that makes warriors drop their weapons and fall to their knees.

"Old Patriarch... what should we do now?" another Angel beside him whispered, his voice shaking.

The old patriarch remained silent, lips pressed tight. He felt it too—the end approaching.

Then he gritted his teeth, preparing to issue the order: fight to the death.

But before the words left his lips, another presence crashed into the battlefield.

A power even more immense. More ancient.

The air dropped in temperature again, this time into something unearthly.

"It's Finn and Stephen!!"

Hope surged in the patriarch's chest. His eyes flared with life.

"What the hell happened here?" Finn's voice cut through the stillness as he landed before the patriarch, dark energy swirling around him like smoke.

Without hesitation, the patriarch relayed everything. The surprise attack. The losses. The barrier's imminent collapse.

"So, you're asking us to save your people?"

The patriarch, who had once been too proud to kneel before even celestial authorities, sank to the ground. Not a trace of pride remained—only the desperate plea of a protector.

"Please... protect our homeland. Our people. The Angel Faction cannot fall."

Before the patriarch could fully lower himself, Finn's black energy flared, catching him mid-motion.

"Save the thanks for later," Finn said flatly.

With a flicker of black light, he disappeared toward the front lines.

Stephen followed, two mysterious witches trailing behind him—beings cloaked in auras twisted by both arcane magic and something darker.

Tears trickled down the patriarch's cheeks. Not from weakness. But from hope.

Meanwhile...

Brice and the remaining warriors continued to clash with the invading demons.

Their armor was torn. Blood streaked their faces and bodies. Yet they held their ground.

But something had changed.

The warriors... their aura was no longer purely celestial. They had been fighting too long. Surrounded by too much blood, too much death.

Something else now simmered beneath their skin—an edge of darkness.

"Brice, behind you!!"

Just as he turned, a monstrous demon barreled forward—towering, skin dark and rough like volcanic rock.

It was easily over eight feet tall. Its musculature rippled with inhuman strength. If not for its hideous face, one might mistake it for a titan from another realm.

But no one admired its physique. Only fear filled their hearts.

This was no ordinary demon. Its strength was far beyond mortal comprehension—closer to a god than a beast.

Even a casual stomp from it could shake the entire battlefield. And worse, it commanded an entire legion of underlings.

And yet, even this monstrosity had a weakness...

"Angels, go to hell!!!" it bellowed. frёewebnoѵēl.com

It believed itself invincible. A conqueror. A destroyer.

"You'll die like the ants you are!" the demon roared, swinging its claws directly at Brice.

Brice braced himself. This wasn't just an enemy—it was the one that had humiliated him before.

He raised his blade. But he was too slow.

SHHHNK!

The demon's long, jagged sword pierced through Brice's chest.

"AHHH!!"

Blood sprayed across the scorched earth as Brice crashed backward, gasping, pain searing through every nerve.

He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

Only now did he truly understand the difference in power.

The demon had lived countless centuries. And Brice... he was still just a soldier.

"Damn... bastard..." he spat, blood staining his lips.

He didn't want to die. Not like this.

BOOM!!

Just when he thought it was over—lightning cracked from the heavens.

A blinding, golden brilliance split the sky open.

Power like divine judgment slammed into the battlefield, rattling the bones of everyone present—demon and angel alike.

A presence descended. Something so mighty even the strongest warrior choked on their breath.

The light didn't belong to any known god.

It was something else.

Something raw. Primal. Absolute.

"What the hell is that?! Divine power—here?!" the demon leader snarled, panic in his glowing eyes.

Even he could sense it.

That energy didn't belong in this realm. It was too vast. Too destructive. Like the might of the Celestials themselves or the fury of Odin in battle.

All eyes turned.

And there he stood.

Finn.

His figure slowly emerged through the smoke, unbothered by the chaos.

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