Mission: Protection of Indigenous Species.
She protected living creatures from natural disasters, from gods that descended from beyond the stars, and she had always acted with nothing but the indigenous species on her mind.
She had saved countless lives.
Yet because Sariel was specialized entirely in combat capability, there were also countless lives she could not save.
Each time, Sariel would contemplate.
What was the optimal course?
Where had she gone wrong?
To fulfill the mission — that alone. Even before humanity had developed its civilization, Sariel had been thinking, ceaselessly, for far longer than anyone could imagine.
Dealing with external threats in the form of gods was comparatively easy.
Sariel was Seraph-class and above.
Her combat capabilities were immense — ordinary gods stood no chance against her.
That held true even for dragons.
The reason dragons did not dominate this planet was that Sariel existed.
To defeat Sariel, one would have to summon a higher-order dragon to this world — and even then, victory was not guaranteed. Should things go poorly, even that superior dragon might be slain.
The upper echelons of the dragonkind residing on this planet knew that.
Gyuriedistodiest did not.
And so, ignorant of just how terrifying she was, he acted.
The hand opposite the one that had seized its target was extended toward Sariel.
Rather than striking, he reached to grab — whether because the last shred of rationality clinging to Gyuriedistodiest's mind served as a brake, or because his instincts recognized that he could not win and made him hesitate to commit to outright hostility.
Either way, the fact that he did not throw a punch was what ultimately preserved Gyuriedistodiest's life.
Gyuriedistodiest's reaching hand was brushed aside.
It looked like the sort of simple motion you might hear accompany a casual flick — yet deflecting the grasp of a being who was, regardless, a god, was no ordinary feat.
After all, the speed of Gyuriedistodiest's reaching hand easily broke the sound barrier. If two such hands were to collide in midair, the shockwave alone from the impact would produce a tremendous explosion.
Sariel, however, simply ignored the laws of physics.
The devastation that should have been scattered across the surroundings was forcibly crammed into her barrier and made to cease existing.
It was a courtesy — a measure to avoid destroying the environment around them — and in the midst of combat, nothing more than a wasted effort.
But the very fact that she could pull it off spoke volumes about the disparity in power between Sariel and Gyuriedistodiest.
"I will warn you once more. Physical interference with indigenous species is not permitted. Should you proceed, you will be in violation of the mission directive. I will move to eliminate you."
True to her words, the same admonition she had given moments ago was repeated.
"There will be no third warning."
But the words that followed were a more Merciless pronouncement than anything before.
It was nothing less than a declaration of intent to eliminate him without further debate should he take any further action.
And yet Gyuriedistodiest still did not grasp that this was, in fact, a lenient response.
Sariel had already been informed of this situation by a certain source of intelligence, and she had a clear understanding of which party was at fault.
Laying hands on an uninvolved civilian was hardly praiseworthy, but she also knew that dragons regarded humans not as individuals but merely as a species.
That was precisely why she had refrained from choosing to crush him immediately.
Under normal circumstances, the instant an invasive species attempted to lay hands on this planet's indigenous creatures, she would have obliterated them without a second thought.
Measured against that baseline, issuing a warning first, turning a blind eye to some degree of misconduct, and then issuing a second warning — this response from Sariel could be called remarkably lenient.
Had Sariel been here without prior knowledge of the situation, and had Gyuriedistodiest lunged with a strike rather than a grab, his life would have ended right then and there.
And that razor-thin fortune continued.
"Guh—?!"
A strained groan escaped Gyuriedistodiest's mouth.
But it was not directed at Sariel. His gaze shot straight past her, aimed at somewhere else entirely — the place where the abducted dragon child was being held.
Through Gyuriedistodiest's eyes, the scene unfolded: armed humans storming the building where the dragon child was imprisoned.
He could also tell that these armed humans were soldiers of this country's regular military.
Gyuriedistodiest watched their movements with total focus, peering intently to see whether they would harm the abducted dragon child.
His worry proved unfounded. The soldiers who breached the compound apprehended the kidnappers.
The abducted dragon child was rescued unharmed.
Having witnessed all of this through clairvoyance, Gyuriedistodiest let out a quiet breath of relief, concluding that at least the child's immediate danger had passed.
Only then did he remember that his hand was still being held, and for the first time, he was struck with a helpless bewilderment, unsure of what to do.
It was at this point that the realization fully sank in: the expressionless woman who had seized his hand was the stray angel Sariel he had heard so much about.
He had heard the stories.
That a stray angel resided on this planet, and that it was because of her existence that dragons could only take cautious, passive action.
But some things you simply could not understand until you saw them with your own eyes.
Gyuriedistodiest looked upon the real thing, and came to realize that his prior understanding had been impossibly naive.
Dragonkind possessed a unique barrier ability that could be used only by dragons.
It nullified all magic — a barrier that was the natural nemesis of gods, whose very existence was rooted in magic as a supernatural phenomenon.
Of course, Gyuriedistodiest could wield that barrier as well.
But that barrier was now being suppressed by brute force.
It had been completely overwritten by the barrier Sariel had erected.
A dragon's barrier could nullify even the magic of gods.
And yet Sariel, as if spitting on that conventional wisdom, had pinned it down with a barrier of output that Gyuriedistodiest's barrier could not fully negate.
It was absurd — accomplished through nothing but raw, overwhelming power.
The difference in strength was simply too vast.
It was here that Gyuriedistodiest finally grasped just how perilously close he had been to destruction.
What if he had ignored the second warning and pressed the attack?
Without question, the dragon known as Gyuriedistodiest would have met his end right there.
It was only by sheer coincidence — the regular military storming the kidnappers' base at just the right moment to rescue the abducted dragon child, which drew his attention and kept him from acting further.
But had that not happened, with the blood rushing to his head in that moment, could he honestly say he would have restrained himself?
The mere thought of it sent the blood draining from Gyuriedistodiest's face.
"It appears the situation has been suppressed. Shall we go?"
Still holding Gyuriedistodiest's hand, Sariel began walking toward the scene.
Gyuriedistodiest followed along, led by the hand like a docile child.
Overcome with fear, he had no choice but to obey in silence.
The abducted dragon child was subsequently delivered safely into Gyuriedistodiest's care. Sariel, who had reported the kidnappers' base to the nation, politely declined the military commander's enthusiastic offer of a reward.
She left.
The young dragon watched her retreating figure, utterly without a shred of suspicion that he would, before long, fall in love with the very being he had just encountered.