The Twenty Virtues Book 1- The Twenty Generals

18- The Dance of the Angels.

"So, little bird..." Clark teased, twirling his dagger between his fingers. "...we'll see which of us is the most beautiful angel then."

With another flap of her wings, Angela shot a barrage of feathers at Clark, which flew like arrows descending from above. The redhead started running and dodging the projectiles while using his weapon to defend against others.

The general watched calmly as her opponent moved. The dense snow significantly slowed him down, and he didn't seem to have any long-range weapons, so as long as she kept her distance, she'd be fine. Narf had said that he could read other people's hearts, but Angela wasn't sure if it worked at this distance. Even if it did, if that was all he had, there wouldn't be much to worry about in combat.

Angela continued to rain feathers down on the man, or rather, she continued to rain blades down on him. Her enemy was better than she had expected; even with an inflated ego, he managed to defend himself well against her attacks, hiding behind rocks.

"Are you trying to fight or flee?" Angela commented, observing everything from the rock she was on. The wind seemed to have intensified, and the blizzard had strengthened a bit more. "I warn you that if you run, you'll have a better chance of staying alive. If you find a time rift, you could go to another time. You need to get close to hit me, and if you keep hiding, you'll die of hypothermia."

"I thought we were fighting. When I want advice on what to do, I'll ask. Until then, keep your filthy mouth shut." The angel sighed, feeling somewhat relieved not to have to worry about the ethics of this man. He was obviously malevolent.

"Then death it will be." Angela spread her wings and took to the air. As if the strong breeze meant nothing to her, the general had decades and centuries of experience in the air. No matter the weather, she knew how to adjust her wings and feathers to fly properly.

With another flap of her wings, another burst of blades was ejected from it. This time, they were launched upward into the strong wind that danced through the gaps in the mountain rocks. The blades were hard but still light as feathers, and the wind carried them toward Clark. He probably wouldn't even see the attack coming, as the white feathers would blend with the snowflakes in the blizzard and drift toward him with the wind.

Angela only heard the man's pained curse as red drops appeared in the air. If she continued attacking this way, she wouldn't be in any danger; she could just finish it off without having to touch anyone.

"That was very clever, little bird..." The redhead said, coming out from behind the rock he had been hiding in it. His dagger was still in hand, and some feathers were embedded in him. "...I see you're not just a pretty face. But, I'm sorry to say, the same can be said about me."

The enemy raised his arm, holding his dagger by the blade with his index finger and thumb. He threw his weapon with force and skill at the winged lady. The general saw the weapon coming straight at her, moved in the air, and used her own wing to deflect it. The dagger was sent flying away as Angela continued to face Clark, not at all impressed. What exactly had he planned with that futile move? He still wore his cynical and mocking smile.

There was something there, but Angela didn't know what it was until she felt something pierce her torso. One of her own feathers had pierced her, probably thrown by Clark while he was out of the angel's sight; she hadn't seen it coming due to the blizzard. Angela wished she could say she didn't believe he had thrown the blade correctly with the help of the wind, but she did. He had experience fighting with small blades too; it wouldn't be a stretch for him.

However, he was still a foolish ignoramus... the wound on the angel's torso was deep, probably hitting her stomach. It was extremely painful, and the sharp blade had really torn through her body. The pain she felt...