Chapter 363: The Falling Star

An Angel.

Finn stared at the towering Seraphim, a dark hunger pooling in his gut. This was the absolute perfect creature for him to Take Over. Previously, he had been hunting a Dragon. But transforming into a beast like Kurunugi carried a massive, fatal risk: it would paint a giant target on his back for troublesome enemies like Acnologia, or even Kurunugi’s own wrathful mother.

But an Angel?

If Mirajane Strauss could dominate the souls of Demons and Devils, twisting their dark, hellish power into one of the strongest mages alive... why couldn’t he claim the soul of a divine being?

More importantly, the quality of Mirajane’s demons was merely above average. The entity hovering before him, Michael, was the absolute pinnacle—the apex of all angelic existence. Finn couldn’t just let this divine feast slip through his fingers. He was going to slaughter this holy weapon and completely violate its soul, taking every single ounce of its power for himself!

Before the Seraphim could fully recover from its missed judgment strike, Finn vanished.

He materialized directly in front of Michael, his massive muscles coiling as he swung the heavy Claymore with blinding ferocity.

Slash!

While Finn didn’t possess the raw power to obliterate Michael instantly, the brutal, perfectly angled strike sheared right through several of the Archangel’s glowing wings and completely severed its left hand. A spray of ethereal, golden blood splattered across the searing desert ruins.

The sight sent a violent shockwave through the surviving members of the Dark Guild. Sorano, already on the verge of passing out from the drain on her life force, watched in a mind-breaking daze. The supreme, holy calamity she had sacrificed everything to summon—the ultimate being meant to protect her—was being casually butchered by a human.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH!"

The Archangel Michael unleashed a deafening, unearthly screech of pure, divine rage!

Its emotionless facade shattered. Glaring down at the mortal who had dared to defile its holy flesh, the Seraphim swung its flaming sword in a wide arc. A gigantic explosion of holy fire erupted, instantly turning the ruined cavern into a blinding, inescapable furnace.

Fortunately, the battle was buried deep beneath a barren desert, but the sheer, suffocating heat rapidly turned the air to plasma. Nobody could tear their eyes away from the two apocalyptic figures clashing in the inferno.

Finn remained perfectly calm. By projecting his stolen Slow Magic outward, he forced the rapidly expanding holy fire to crawl at a snail’s pace, allowing him to casually sidestep the searing waves of death.

Still... how long can I keep this up? Finn calculated coldly.

If they were to compare raw Magic Power, the Seraphim eclipsed him by a massive margin. Michael could effortlessly burn this desert for days and nights without breaking a sweat.

Finn simply didn’t have the magical stamina for a prolonged war of attrition. He could easily run away right now, but retreating would completely ruin his goal of enslaving the Reborn Oracion Seis. He had beaten them half to death, but he needed them alive—and more importantly, he wanted Michael’s soul.

With his Magic Power rapidly depleting, Finn knew there was only one way to end this. He had to compress every single drop of his physical strength, his magic, and his sheer willpower into a single, devastating moment.

"Let’s settle this right now," Finn growled.

He dropped into a low stance. But this time, he didn’t reach for his back. Instead, he pulled the massive Claymore to his waist, mimicking a traditional Iaijutsu posture. Because he lacked a scabbard for the giant blade, he gripped the cold, sharp steel of the blade itself with his bare, calloused fingers.

Michael immediately sensed the lethal, crushing intent rolling off the human. The Seraphim didn’t flee. Instead, it raised its flaming sword with its remaining hand, honoring the terrifying warrior spirit of the man standing before it. It prepared to deliver a swift, holy death to this deeply sinful creature.

"Falling Star."

The moment those words left Finn’s lips, his entire presence morphed into something distinctly demonic. An unfathomable, terrifying surge of magical energy erupted from his core, violently shaking the air and fracturing the very space around him.

Instead of letting that overwhelming power explode outward, he violently compressed it. He forced every ounce of his magic, his breath, and his violently pulsing muscles into a single, microscopic point on his blade.

One second.

Finn bet his entire existence on that single moment. His right hand pushed the hilt with bone-shattering force, while his left hand pulled the blade, creating a hyper-pressurized launch.

When the friction finally broke, it was like watching a falling star tear through the night sky.

The slash was so impossibly fast that Michael’s vision went entirely white. Finn moved faster than his own shadow. In that transcendent microsecond, Finn physically touched the absolute "concept of a slash."

And before that concept, Michael was effortlessly cleaved in half.

Finn materialized several paces behind the Archangel. The heavy Claymore hissed as the sheer friction melted the edges of the steel. Finn’s left hand was completely ruined—the skin burned, blistered, and bleeding from gripping the blade—but he didn’t even flinch.

The surviving Dark Guild members simply stared in mute, terrifying submission. They watched as the earth, the sky, and the very fabric of space itself slowly split perfectly in half alongside the bisected Angel.

"Sorry," Finn whispered, his dark eyes glowing as he turned to look at the falling halves of the Seraphim. "You are mine now."

Finn instantly activated his Take Over magic, ruthlessly plunging his magical dominance into Michael’s fading soul. To his surprise, there was almost zero resistance. The divine entity seemed to completely submit, dissolving and melting smoothly into Finn’s body, as if willingly offering up its holy power to the superior predator.

As the massive, intoxicating surge of Angelic energy flooded Finn’s veins, the ambient magic in the atmosphere violently rushed into his body, furiously repairing his ruined hands and scorched flesh.

And in that moment—

[It is detected that a massive amount of divine energy has entered the host’s body.] [The evolution will start now.]

An indescribable wave of pleasure and power washed over Finn. He could feel every muscle, bone, and cell in his body rapidly breaking down and reforming into something vastly superior. He was ascending far beyond the limits of a mere human.

[Initiating rapid evolution to absorb and utilize the excess angelic energy.]

[Initiating Organic Assimilation and Cellular Restructuring.]

[Initiating Species Evolution: Human -> Enlightened (Holy Variation)... Successful.]

The blinding light faded. Finn stood tall amidst the smoking ruins, his previously burnt and battered body completely healed. His skin was flawless, his musculature dense, predatory, and practically glowing with a terrifying, divine authority. He had been completely reborn.

As Finn slowly exhaled a breath of hot, pressurized steam, he opened his eyes and looked down.

Erik, clutching his battered body, and Sawyer, lying in a pool of his own blood where his legs used to be, were dragging themselves across the scorched earth. Beside them, Sorano was on her knees, her plush body completely limp, her tear-streaked face pressed submissively into the dirt in a state of absolute, broken worship.

"Please..." Erik rasped, his voice trembling with genuine, unfiltered terror. "Forgive us. We will swear our absolute loyalty to you... You can do whatever you want to us, just... please let us live..."

Facing this divine, terrifying monster, their pride as a Dark Guild was completely shattered. They were entirely at his mercy.

Finn looked down at their desperate, yielding forms, a satisfied smile curling his lips.

"Wise choice."