Put out though he was by the authoritarian's generalization, Souta couldn't bring himself to disagree with Kushiel.  Confusing yet stimulating moments with Lily aside, he'd been confronted by the thought of 'why' more than a few times during these long days—why the highest authorities of three realms chose a couple of demons, an old man, and himself to be their representatives.  Here in this company, more so than even in the midst of battle with hell's forces, he felt as though he didn't belong.  Any further rumination, however, was swept away by the flourish of Kushiel's spear that brought the weapon's point facing his way.  [i]What.[/i]  With the power to sooth the eon-old grudge between demon and angels out of his hands, he'd allowed himself to become distracted by his disgruntlement, and hadn't paid quite enough attention to determine if Kushiel's most recent couple of sentences had been more spiteful rhetoric or actual death threats.  Now he aimed that spear at him?  Why?  [i]Even if he wants to kill me because I'm on the same side as Fenn and Lily, he can't actually attack me?  I've got...diplomatic immunity![/i]  On instinct, he held his hands up in placation, his face a visage of unmasked fear and confusion.

Then and there, Kushiel declared that the Council no longer held an alliance with Heaven.  Souta's mind clicked instantly, and he knew that because of that, violence could erupt at any moment.  The tension clogging the air would become murderous intent, and what was supposed to be a conference of cooperation would become a bloodbath, and -the smith was convinced- play right into Sevrin's hands.  For a moment, however, Souta's indignation outweighed his fear.  Who the hell was Kushiel to declare an ageless pact moot, to mark the Charred Council as his enemy?  From where he stood, the situation looked a lot more like the angel letting his hatred of demons and massive ego get the better of himself.  “Hold on!  Sir,” he shouted, “Put aside your anger for one second and think about what you're doing!”  He glared at Wrath.  “What are you doing, fool?  The Council's picture is biggest there is!”  

By then, it was too late.  Terse words had been exchanged by the bigger fish, and after a moment where it looked like peace might be an option, Kushiel zoomed to eviscerate Fenn.  His initial charge met the beast's claws, but the damage was done.  Primed muscles sprang into action, and the angels surged forward to attack.  Souta's fury, too, boiled over, and in Japanese he gave a vehement swear as he thrashed his arms.  “Idiot angels!”  He glanced to the side as Lily offered her apologies, and shrugged.  “It's fine.”  Power wracked her body, transforming the beautiful demoness into a blazing creature of slaughter, and after a second of observation Souta decided to join her.

Water flooded from his sleeves, hardening into clawed gauntlets of shining silver.  When Souta cracked his fists together, sparks flew.  The sigil on the back of his neck flared up with a searing light, and together the flames and droplets danced across his body.  “When the metal's being uppity,” he growled, his voice distorting as strength flowed through him, “I [i]beat[/i] it into shape!”  The steam surrounding him burst off, leaving a juggernaut in vicious stone armor.  In his left hand the brilliant azure core of the shotgun Deluge gave off heatwaves, and the smith's right held tight to the ghostly warhammer Escre.  

One second later, the first angel fell upon him.  His energy blade sliced through the air, but its lustrous yellow edge did not so much as chip the smith's armor.  “Can't cut through armor, fool!”  With the sound of a thunderclap Deluge discharged its first shot, which sailed past the attacking angel to embed itself in the hauberk of another.  Before it even exploded, the first warrior had reeled back for a thrust that failed just as badly to penetrate the defenses of his foe.  “Metal or rock,” Souta shouted through clenched teeth as he swung, his hammer crumpling the angel's shield in a single strike, “Muda da!”  Before his adversary could dash away, Souta stomped down on his foot with his armored heel.  “Crushing works better.  Watch!”  The angel barely got a chance.  Unable to squirm away and taken aback by what should have been an easy opponent, he took the full force of Souta's hammer to the dome, which decreased his height by a fair margin.

For the moment that he was free, Souta directed the barrel of his firearm toward Wrath.  “Hey!  You can get outta here today without betraying anybody.  But if sticking a knife in your buddies' backs sounds okay, come on and try me!”  

Angels more eager than the nephilim for a piece of Souta reached him the next instant, and his fight raged on.