After this decisive victory, the end of the long conflict between the Twelve and Devourer was basically determined. The hosts of angels serving the gods were greatly weakened by deaths of their masters, and regardless, most of them had little in terms of special abilities. Consumed by their greed for power, gods only loaned it to a few of them.
Voren didn't give the gods time to recuperate or to attack him from behind. In the shortest time possible, he gathered what was left of his demonic army and set off to Heaven, which was open to him thanks to the book of magic he still carried in his body.
Meanwhile, gods were struck by the truth Voren told them. Distrust separated them even on the precipice of destruction. Rey, God of Rogues, did the best he could to restore it by accusing an innocent (in that particular crime, at least) angel with the evidence he crafted himself.
I'm sorry. I wanted to finish this story properly, but I found that I really can't. I wrote myself into a corner a loooong time ago, truly. Like, a couple hundred chapters ago when I fucked up worldbuilding, system and whatnot.
So, this is the end of it. I can't redo it, I can only try my best to not repeat my mistakes with the next story I write.
But I hope you won't be too angry with me...
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