Why Did You Summon Me?

“Ow! Ouch!” Baiyi did not stop pinching Attie despite hearing her cries of pain, but suddenly, he felt the weight on the right side of his suit-of-armor body lessen. Baiyi turned just in time to see his right arm fall to the floor. Clang! It was as though it had been lopped off by an invisible blade.

Attie no longer looked pitiful. She had a chilling scowl on her face, and her cold eyes watched Baiyi in contempt. Baiyi looked around the house and found it devoid of people, except for Attie and him. The silence was not awkward; it was chilling.

“Er, hi. Long time, no see,” Baiyi said, picking up the severed arm of his suit-of-armor body. He did not attempt to reattach the arm, though. “My homies are fine, right?”

Attie continued to stare at Baiyi coldly. A few chilling seconds of silence passed, and she coldly asked, “So, you met an Angel.”

“Yes. She said her name was Noirciel, and that she is the fourth commander of the Heavenly Host and a vassal to the God of Time. Friend of yours?”

“What happened?” The War God asked, ignoring Baiyi’s question.

Baiyi recounted his ordeal once again, after which he asked, “Can you please explain what happened to me?”

Attie shook her head. “I don’t know.”

” What ?!”

“I do not rule over Time; Tylemus does. I do not have the authority to cross into his domain,” replied the War God. “The armor that sent you back in time, where is it now?”

“Beats me.” Baiyi shrugged. “After I was returned to the future, I awoke inside a kitty plush toy. So, what now? What do I have to do to get Mia back?”

“Wait,” the War God replied.

“Wait? You’re asking me to wait !?” Baiyi was horrified. The War God did not just heartlessly ask him to wait six thousand years for Mia to return to the present, did he? Even if Mia managed to live that long, what sort of person would she be when he finally meets her again? Would Mia still be the kind-hearted daughter that has a strong place in his heart? Would she still be beautiful and a loli?

‘A 495-year-old loli is already too much for me to hand. Handing me a six-thousand-year old loli is just cruel. Plain cruel.’ 

The War God could not read Baiyi’s thoughts, though. “Wait, and remember.”

Attie’s scowl softened before being replaced by a look of helplessness. The look seemed to imply: ‘Sorry; this is all that I’m allowed to say.’

Baiyi shivered at Attie’s helpless expression. ‘ Why does she suddenly look so shifty…’

“What about Mia? Is she in any danger?” He asked.

Attie shook her head sideways again. Baiyi could not tell if this meant that Mia was alright, or if it meant “I don’t know.” The War God was about to elaborate, but something outside the window seemed to catch his attention. Baiyi watched Attie stare out the window, without moving, as though she was in a trance.

‘That’s not the kind of face you would see on such a powerful being.’ Baiyi raised his brows.  ‘Something’s not right!’

That assessment was not wrong. Attie’s eyes swiftly shifted back over, and the War God, with a sense of urgency, quickly said, “You must hurry!”

“Wait!” Baiyi’s gut told him that the War God was about to bolt. “Who’s Nehemiah?”

The War God trembled at the mention of that name. With gritted teeth, the War God growled, “Don’t know.”

Attie’s legs wobbled, and she fell forward — a sign that the War God had left her body. Baiyi looked down at his metal right arm and realized that it had been re-attached to his suit-of-armor body.

“Okay. Someone acted really weird today,” Baiyi said and raised Attie up. The War God was really different today. In the past, he had been chatty, annoying, and fond of leaving multiple messages. Furthermore, whenever the War God possessed his messenger, Attie, he would lecture Baiyi because of the way he treated Attie. It was the War God that taught Baiyi the mechanics of angel-summoning, an event that had included a live demonstration, no less! So, why was the chatterbox of a god so tense today?

‘Is it because I met an Angel?’ Baiyi wondered. There was no way to confirm this. The War God had left as abruptly as he had arrived, and from the panic that he displayed earlier, it was evident that something terrible had happened.

The other Voidwalkers continued their discussion at Da Xue’s garden. When the War God arrived, he teleported them away to this garden, causing the gossiping ladies to jump in fright.

It would take a lot more than that to scare the Voidwalkers, though, so as soon as they were teleported there, their topic of discussion switched from Time to the War God.

The Archmage said, “The power of a god is almost unfathomable. If they are, indeed, our enemies, then we’re in for a really bumpy ride.”

“How about we focus on getting past the angels first, hmm?” The Cleric Walker replied. At that moment, he was not as carefree as he usually was; instead, the Voidwalker was tense, even more than when he was being perverted.

Suddenly, the Cleric Walker was jolted out of his reverie, and his eyes turned to gaze in a certain direction. This was the same direction the War God had stared at earlier: the Holy City of Canningham.

The city did not look any different than it usually did. God’s Grace’s believers were praying in chapels, and workers labored to build the Church’s magic complex. However, a group of young boys and girls wearing religious robes were hidden in a secret cathedral, which was re-opened only a few months ago. Before that, it had been sealed off for millennia. These mysterious individuals were quietly chanting an incantation.

Their robes were more eyecatching than the mozetta worn by the Pope. The robes were studded with jewelry and gemstones, yet the looked oddly simple. They made the individuals look elegant and important.

The youths were from different places. Some of them were sons and daughters of regular followers; some of them were members of the Church’s choir, and some of them used to be Saintess candidates. When they were told that they had a chance to become hosts for a holy spirit, these youths, in their excitement, abandoned their families and friends and willingly entered seclusion in the reception hall of the Heavenly Host. Since then, all they did was recite strange prayers whilst standing on an odd-looking formation.

This had been their routine for two months, yet neither of them looked frustrated or doubtful. They remained steadfast, anticipating the blessed fate that awaited them.

Behind the hall was a chamber, whose entrance was covered by a thick cloth. It was no larger than a conventional confession booth. The Pope, Chief Judge, and High Priest — the three highest-ranked individuals in the Church — had squeezed themselves in this tiny space, watching the youths with rapt attention.

“Are you sure this is ever going to work?” The young Pope asked the Hight Priest — a man so old, it seemed as though he would die any time from now.

High Priests had no real authority within the Church, but when the attempts to summon angels began, the old High Priest’s status increased greatly. Now, even the Pope had to seek his opinion.

“Yes; I do not doubt that it will,” the old man replied with a shaky voice. Unlike the Pope and Chief Judge, who looked indifferent, the High Priest was moved by the summoning ritual.

“We are too forward with our plan,” the Chief Judge said in protest. “Angels can only stay on this mortal realm for three days, at most, and our construction can’t be completed in such a short time. Furthermore, one angel cannot deal a huge blow to that wicked den.”

“Those cowardly sorcerers and nobles have already picked a side, and it is not us. Their cowardice is a sin worthy of banishment to the dungeon, after which they would face divine judgment.” The Pope hissed coldly. “I’m sure that when an angel finally heeds our calls and arrive to aid us, those spineless snakes will rethink their position…”

The conversation was about to turn sacrilegious when they were startled by a commotion.

A beautiful maiden with silver hair was glowing brightly. She had stopped praying and was looking up at the angels hovering above her. With excitement, she cried, “Yes! I surrender myself to you, Noirciel!”

The maiden was enveloped by a dazzling white light, which blocked out the expressions of jealousy on the faces of the other youths. When the others opened their eyes, they saw the maiden hovering in mid-air. Her feet were bare, and a holy and majestic aura emanated from every inch of her body.

It was obvious who she was. Everyone in the hall fell to their knees and cried, “An angel has arrived!” The High Priest, who was still in the secret chamber, crashed to his knees and kowtowed, his head lowered in the angel’s direction.

The silver-haired maiden scanned the crowd with quietly, and then she ripped off a strip of her white robe, which she used to cover her eyes. With a sweet-sounding voice, the maiden announced, “I am Noirciel the sinful angel, servant of Lord Tylemus.”

White feathers spread out behind her, but she seemed to have only one wing.

That was not all that the Pope noticed. Around the maiden’s swan-like neck was a metal collar that had a chain, which was hanging down her flat chest, attached to it. The Pope instantly understood the implication of the angel’s words. The first angel to heed the Church’s pleas was an angel that the gods considered a sinner?

The strange collar was hard to miss, and everyone in the hall had glanced at it with curiosity; however, no one dared to make mention of it.

The angel seemed to understand their thoughts and said, “I have sinned; I used my Lord’s power without permission. But now, I am here to redeem myself.”

She seemed to think the explanation was enough for these mortals, and with a flap of her wing, the angel soared upwards, about to take her leave. Suddenly, she stopped, and her hands began to wander around her waist frantically.