It was the first time hell had fought back against heaven on extermination day. Bloodshed was expected.

Alastor fought quite effortlessly against most of the exorcist angels as they tried to destroy the hotel. That’s when he saw an angel on the ground with their wings cut off. A wound from battle? Or maybe a betrayal? Either way, they couldn’t fight anything now, not like this.

Intrigued, Alastor approached the wingless angel with his usual wicked smile.

“Having fun in the dirt, my dear?”