“But Lucifer doesn’t love me.”
“You’re an angel. Of course he doesn’t,” Nibaish replied with a curl of his lips. With a sweep of his hand, he dispersed all the illusions—leaving only one, the vision of my demon self.
“But if you became this, do you really think he wouldn’t love you?”
He gestured toward the illusion. “As long as you become a demon, all the conflict between you will vanish like smoke.”
I took a step forward, as if under a spell. “Really?”
Nibaish pointed his black claw toward the Fire River. “Your Highness, leap into the flames. Be reborn through fire. You’ll gain everything you ever wanted.”
I slowly approached the river… but stopped at the edge.
A sliver of reason still lingered.
Visions of Heaven’s past glory, of the sweeping tides of its eons-old history, flashed before my eyes.
If I fell, there would be no path back.
Nibaish’s coarse voice echoed through the air, twisted with alternating heat and cold:
“Your Highness, jump. Don’t hesitate any longer. Jump in, and Lucifer will love you. He’ll never be able to leave you again!”
I stepped forward.
“Jump! Hurry—jump!”
I drew in my wings, clenched my teeth, shut my eyes—
And leapt.
In the dark, crimson flames surged toward me as if to consume everything.
They rose like a tide about to devour me whole.
But just as I hung suspended in the air, a violent force yanked me back.
I was flung onto the ground with a brutal crash.
“Nibaish,” said a voice from behind us. At the first sound of it, Nibaish’s face changed completely.
“I’ve only now realized something,” the voice continued, calm and unhurried. “You know me far too well, apparently. Apparently, you can see exactly what’s in my heart, whom I love, what I long for.”
Startled, I turned around.
Lucifer stood beside the Fire River.
His outfit was far simpler than the illusion from earlier: a white shirt tucked into fitted black trousers, dark gloves, and sleek boots.
But the first moment I saw him, I almost didn’t recognize him at all.
Lucifer… had cut his hair.
Gone was the flowing black hair that reached his waist. Now it was cropped short, even shorter than Mammon’s. Rough, gleaming strands fell across his forehead, a deep red gemstone glinting from his ear.
And because of the haircut, the beauty of his face—the refined features, the striking symmetry—was even more undeniable, and somehow more charmingly masculine.
At some point, long hair had become the domain of angels alone. Among demons, neither men nor women kept it long.
And this classic demon’s attire, worn on Lucifer… gave off an overwhelming, regal majesty instead.
“Y-Your Majesty…” Nibaish stammered, clearly not about to ask him about his hair. Only admirers would care about such things.
Lucifer crossed his arms and offered a slight smile. “Go on. Don’t stop on my account.”
Nibaish collapsed to his knees, trembling. “Your Majesty—please have mercy!”
“Mercy?” Lucifer pointed first at a massive boulder on the ground, then at the river’s surface.
The boulder rose into the air—then plummeted into the flames.
The instant it hit, there was a sharp hiss like water dropped into fire.
And just like that, the rock dissolved completely into the burning river.
“When you chose to do this,” Lucifer said, smile fading, “you should’ve known whether I would show you mercy.”
He rotated his wrist.
Six torrents of fire shot upward from the river, forming straight lines. They twisted into each other at high speed, whirling above the surface like a storm about to break.
Nibaish looked up, then shouted with wild, uncontrollable emotion:
“Yes! I’ve known from the start that I would die! But I don’t care—not if it’s for the Demon Realm!”
He choked on his own fury. “Your Majesty, you’ve given up too much for this angel. You’re the one being foolish! Every godborn knows your weakness! And Michael—he cannot fall! If he lives, how are we supposed to fight Heaven?!”
Lucifer listened in silence. His face did not shift in the slightest.
“I heard every word you said,” he said. And with a flick of his hand, a surge of fire magic blasted toward Nibaish.
Nibaish flinched, then closed his eyes, as if resigned to fate.
I shot into the air, grabbed his arm, and hauled him upward.
“Michael, you—!” He was far more emotional than Lucifer.
Before he could finish his sentence, I said flatly, “It’s not that I think you don’t deserve to die. I just don’t want your death to have anything to do with me.”
“Your Highness… you forget where you are,” Lucifer said coolly, looking up at me. His dark-red eyes were bottomless. “Let him go.”
I glanced down at him—then shoved Nibaish with force into the forest.
He tumbled into the tangle of black underbrush.
Lucifer, ever the one to conserve energy, raised his hand again, clearly planning to remotely bind Nibaish with magic.
I dove down, landing in the path of the spell.
Lucifer stopped just in time.
The black forest howled in the wind. His short hair whipped around his face, the collar of his shirt snapping sharply.
The sounds of footsteps and wings receded into the distance.
Lucifer didn’t pursue. He simply stared coldly at me.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re acting like a tyrant.”
“I’ve always been a tyrant.”
“Is that something to be proud of?”
“You’re still clinging to foolish illusions,” Lucifer sneered. “With the blood of the Arterras running in your veins, you have only two choices: remain loyal to Heaven for all your days, or die.”
Here, fire flowed year-round through the river, the winds sharp and black.
He stood at the water’s edge, a figure of black and crimson in a desolate world. With his short hair now, he seemed even farther removed from the angel who once stood at the pinnacle of the Sanctum, robed in snowy white.
If I hadn’t just read a history book from Heaven, I might’ve forgotten entirely what he once looked like.
But his eyes, that gaze, I had known all along.
It had never changed.
The gaze that fooled me again and again into thinking he truly loved me.
“Why did you cut your hair?” I asked at last.
“Long hair is inconvenient on the battlefield.”
After a pause, I asked, carefully and clearly:
“You… plan to personally lead the attack on Heaven?”
Lucifer smiled at me, confident.
“…When will it begin?” I pressed on.
The smile on his lips widened, blooming like firelight. He looked at me thoughtfully.
“You know, I saw the illusion of you as a demon just now,” he said. “Want to know what I thought?”
“Stop changing the subject.”
“If you really turned into that, I’d probably hide you away in Pandemonium, never let you out again, never let anyone see you.”
I paused slightly, giving him a hollow, forced smile. “Then it’s a good thing I can’t fall. I’d end up a lunatic otherwise.”
Lucifer smirked. “Angels, regardless of gender, all have that flat, sexless figure. It’s frustrating. If you turned into a woman, now that would be a beautiful thing.”
I felt even more exasperated and speechless. Maybe it was the short hair—he looked so much younger now. Every gesture and expression had become more demon-like. In other words, more perverse. Honestly, I wanted to say: thank you—for a night of physical pleasure and emotional torment. But I figured if I said that, he’d only grow more smug, so I kept my mouth shut.
Lucifer stepped closer. “Still so dull? Fine, I’ll tell you what you wanted to know: tomorrow.”
It took me a moment to register what he meant. But he had already gone.
I had known this day would come. I just didn’t expect it to come so soon. Looking back now, I realized that Lucifer had been preparing for war all along. All those scattered, confusing gossips and reports before had merely been distractions.
That night, I stayed in Kade Palace again. Lucifer wasn’t there.
It was like a terrifying roar had split the skies. Thunder and lightning raged, the roaring thunderclaps tearing Rodheoga apart, shaking it to its very core. The sky looked like a massive black hole, ready to swallow the entire demon capital. Each thunderclap felt like it could shake the world, sending tremors through the heart. The night sky shattered, and dense sheets of rain came pouring down, washing over and enclosing this dark city. In the rain and mist, even the usual brilliance of the thousands of lights had turned to vague, dreamlike haze.
The black sky hung lower and lower. The Pillars That Hold Up the Sky and the spires of buildings were now completely shrouded in dense clouds. Slave ships docked silently at the moat’s harbor, or skimmed silently over the water, blotting out the golden reflections and carrying off silver ripples. Perhaps because battle was imminent, the floating banners had been taken down, and the disciplined royal artillery patrols had retired for the night. The whole city had fallen into premature slumber.
I stood by the window. The wind drove the rain diagonally, lashing at the glass with heavy thuds, a thousand waterfalls. Rainy nights always stir up a kind of inexplicable sadness. Not wanting to linger in that melancholia, I grabbed the curtain, ready to pull it shut.
But then, I saw a blurred figure below.
It was Lucifer.
He walked slowly, with a measured, deliberate pace. Apart from occasionally bowing his head when the rain got into his eyes, you wouldn’t know he was walking in a storm. The fire blazed in the bedroom hearth, while the windowpane felt like a block of ice. In the cold air, Lucifer looked up at me, as if sensing my gaze.
His face was pale, bloodless. His hair was soaked, rainwater running pitifully down his cheeks.
I pressed against the window and gestured for him to come up. He clearly saw it. But his feet didn’t move.
After a while, he opened his mouth slightly—but said nothing. And amid the clamor of rain, I couldn’t hear him even if he had.
In that moment, the man I had always seen as godlike… looked as if a single nudge would topple him.
Rain blanketed the world, swallowing everything. Lucifer’s eyes curved slightly, and he smiled gently up at me. There wasn’t a trace of sorrow in his expression, and yet, his smile filled me with unbearable grief.
He didn’t come up.
He stood there for a long, long time, then turned away. His figure vanished into the thick veil of rain.
He never looked back.
For a split second, I had the illusion that what Lucifer had just stopped himself from saying… was goodbye.
And that it was for forever.
The world fell into a gray slumber. The rain poured on endlessly, branching and flowing into the streets, the fountains, merging into creeks and rivulets, so strenuous, so blurred, forming long, continuous rests, like Heaven itself weeping in mourning for all its forsaken creatures.
And life itself was but one endless rest note.
Rodheoga, this massive, glorious capital of the Demon Realm, brimming with majesty and power—throughout its thousands of years of reign, had never known a night as desolate as this one.
Many years later, the historical records of Heaven would describe the Battle of Seraph with the following:
“Led by the Demon Sovereign Lucifer, the Demon Realm launched the largest and shortest assault in the history of the Three Realms. Seventy-two cities and regions, over five hundred million divine and demonic beings were drawn into the conflict. Casualties among soldiers and civilians surpassed seventy million.
The entire encounter lasted only two and a half days—
and ended with Lucifer’s surrender.
Throughout this unprecedented campaign, the Archangel Michael did not participate.
Many historians consider Michael’s absence the turning point of the era, though the reasons for it remain a subject of fierce debate to this day.”
The next day, the fires of war ignited. I was detained, seemingly serving no purpose as a hostage. Lucifer led his troops upward, unleashing a barrage of grand spells with each level of Heaven he conquered. A simple wave of his hand carried apocalyptic force—another city leveled each time. The divine and demonic races had warred for tens of millions of years, yet never had demons broken through Third Heaven. After being watched over for a full day and night by six squads of a hundred royal guards each, I unexpectedly heard the news: Jerusalem had fallen.
Although the Powers had long been ostracized in Heaven, rebellion ran in their blood. And yet, when the demons truly invaded, they displayed a unity and strength never seen before. The Powers were not the most powerful rank, but they were undoubtedly the most numerous among those who could fight.
Still, unity and numbers are no match for the strongest enemy. Knowing Lucifer as I did, I had always known him to be calculated, never wasting power unless necessary. For him to personally lead an invasion—it could only mean he had a special purpose. As I considered his motives, I also began to fear he would soon strike Sancta Faylia next.
But Jerusalem was vast. Even with the strongest of his kind present, the demons suffered heavy losses in the conquest. Soon after, word reached the Demon Realm that Mammon had been ambushed and gravely injured. Troops stationed in Pandemonium rushed to the battlefield for reinforcements. In the chaos, I managed to escape. But just as I ascended into the sky, magical arrows from the watchmen struck me—I nearly fell out of the air.
Wounded, I didn’t reach Jerusalem until more than half a day later. By then, the entire city had become a wrecked and desolate ruin. The ground was littered with black and white feathers, the corpses of both divine and demonic beings. The Vice Regent’s statue stood in the city center, aged and weatherworn, gazing silently into the distance.
The demons had already reached Shima.
The skies and the earth were flooded with warriors. Chaos reigned in the city—black wings tangled with white, feathers swirled in a storm. Because of geographical constraints, magic had little use on the ground, and the common soldiers resorted to hand-to-hand combat. Wherever an archdevil appeared, it looked from above like a blooming crimson peony, blood splattering in every direction. A black dragon beat its bony wings with sinuous strength, soaring through the sky with boundless ferocity. Atop the dragon, a black-robed warlock raised his wand—lightning surged, ghosts howled, emitting mournful wails. Then, in spasms, vast numbers of angels died midair.
Though the firepower was immense, and morale soared under Lucifer’s command, many demon soldiers could not withstand Heaven’s atmosphere. The streets were lined with the gravely ill and breathless, writhing in pain.
Lucifer hovered in the sky, his six wings—symbols of masculine power and dominance—fully extended, moving with slow, deliberate might. Where he remained, black clouds circled and lightning crackled like claws on a demon’s skeletal wings, shrouding this city of light in encroaching darkness.
Gales howled; the cold bit deep into the bone. The wind struck his face, sending his short hair and black feathers into a wild dance, revealing his perfect features.
He hadn’t noticed me yet. The chaos of battle beneath him seemed to have nothing to do with him. His arms were crossed before his chest, palms cradling two spheres of silver light. As they merged, he raised the glowing orb high and hurled it into the distance.
A silver arc cut across the sky—instantly, the staircase leading to Seventh Heaven began to tremble violently. From above came the sound of buildings collapsing. Morale soared. The war cries of all the demons nearly split the heavens. While the tremors still shook the celestial staircase, another golden orb flew toward the Historical Tower of the Divine Law Academy. The towering spire leading to the Sanctum collapsed in an instant. Lucifer never fought the angels directly, yet his blatant defiance of God ignited the blood of every demon. Their morale surged to its peak.
Then, with the next orb he threw, the staircase to Seventh Heaven—standing for eons—finally buckled under the assault and crumbled.
I could no longer imagine what Sancta Faylia looked like now. Had I not seen it myself, I would never have believed my homeland could fall to such ruin.
Clutching the arrow wound at my side, I flew toward Lucifer. But halfway there, a voice descended from the heavens.
It was the voice of our Father:
“Lucifer, even if you hide Michael in the deepest layer of the Demon Realm, he remains of the divine race. What is about to happen will not change. What exactly are you trying to run from?”
Within ten seconds of that voice, the battlefield, once roaring with chaos, fell into total silence.
At that very moment, a beam of golden light struck from the sky, spilling over the pale, ruined stones below.
The archangels of the divine court descended from the radiant Seventh Heaven, forming a line, floating in perfect symmetry.
Like a triumphant general returning from war, Lucifer smiled in satisfaction.
“I thought you had forever lost the ability to talk,” he smiled smugly.
No sooner had he said it than a tall, silver figure slowly descended as well.
Hanniah and Jesus followed behind him, heads bowed in silence.
To the divine onlookers, it was perhaps the only time in their lives they would lay eyes on the Sovereign of Demons.
To the demons, it might be their only chance to ever see the Creator God.
Father God stood with eyes half-closed, radiating an innate, blinding holy light. At the same moment, I noticed many injured yet unyielding divine soldiers quietly shedding tears. Even many demons—including the ever-cold Belial—showed unmistakable bewilderment in their eyes. They were too reverent to look closely at Him.
None of them realized that His face was exactly the same as mine.
“You have less than half a day,” God said. “I thought you wouldn’t appear here.”
Lucifer replied, “I know exactly where I need to be.”
“Between love and hatred, only you truly know which matters more to you.”
“Then you needn’t concern yourself. I only hope that the great Creator doesn’t turn into a coward at the critical moment.”
“I will accept your challenge. But you should know, even if you defeat me, you’ll be gravely weakened. When that happens, will you still have the strength to draw the swords?”
Lucifer suddenly fell silent. He slowly clenched his fist, narrowing his eyes. “I will not draw the swords.”
“Even if your soldiers, your people, the great generals of the Demon Realm, and the ones dearest to you, all die because of it?”
“You still don’t understand the blood that runs in the veins of demons?”
“Even if the angel behind you—dies for certain in the destruction to come?”
Lucifer did not turn around right away upon hearing this.
His whole body stiffened, the howling wind whipping his hair into disarray.
God made no further attempt to persuade him. The heavens and the earth fell into utter silence.
I knew that all eyes, divine and demonic, had shifted to the figure behind him.
In the end, he still turned.
He saw me.
The wounded, disheveled, enemy of his, who was unable to meet his gaze. Michael.
Strangely, what surfaced in my mind at that moment was his former self as Archangel. His hair then was long and golden, and his eyes as blue as the sky. Back then, his gaze was always gentle and proud, like someone who would never be broken by hardship.
Now, he looked at me with eyes of deep crimson, a sea of fire, yet they held the same sadness as that rain-drenched night in the Demon Realm. Not even a crease in his brow, and yet the sorrow soaking me bone-deep.
“Why did you come?” he asked softly.
“Because this is my home.”
“You know, I’ve planned for this day for a long time. Your awakening ruined everything. But no matter the outcome, I was going to challenge God today. For all these years, I’ve waited for this day—the day I would defeat Him.” Lucifer smiled at me faintly. “Because everyone knows: Lucifer’s original sin is Pride.”
I didn’t understand a word he was saying. I was about to ask when he patted my shoulder.
“But now, I can’t do it…… From this moment on, you’re free.”
He wore black gloves. His fingers were long and slender.
As his hand lifted, I saw, just above the cuff, a sliver of white bone peeking out.
After seeing that with my own eyes, no matter how many questions or regrets I still had, I couldn’t speak.
Just knowing that he was alive, still breathing somewhere in this world… even if we could never meet again, it was enough to make me feel at peace.
It was time to let go.
I simply patted his shoulder in return, like an old friend of many years. “When you go back, live well. Rule the Demon Realm wisely… I believe in you.”
Lucifer lowered his head and smiled, nodding. Then he turned, raising his hand in a signal for retreat. He flew off, high above the shattered city of Shima. And I suddenly remembered his retreating figure as he left the Tower of Luminescence… remembered the youngster I once was, calling out his name and running to kiss him.
“Lucifer!” I couldn’t help calling out.
He turned, gazing at me in silence.
How many thousands of years ago had that been? Perhaps I truly was beginning to age. I couldn’t recall the buildings, the scenery, our conversations, or the people who passed us by. All I remembered was that Shima was blanketed in white rose petals like snow, falling gently to the ground, fragrance drifting in the wind. And Lucifer’s glance over his shoulder, so gentle it made me forget to breathe.
Back then, I was still too young to understand. I had kissed him simply because I liked him too much—so much I could no longer suppress it. That feeling… perhaps it would stay with me forever.
And now, after watching him for a long while, I could only smile and say: “Take care.”
Lucifer smiled again, nodded once more, and led the demon legions out of Heaven.
Because that farewell was so quiet, so undramatic, I never imagined what it might mean if we never saw each other again.
I kept thinking there would be a next time, that it wouldn’t be far off. Perhaps thousands, tens of thousands of years later. Maybe by then, with time so long between us, our feelings would fade, and we would finally be free.
After he left, I even thought: since the goodbye was so peaceful, I should recover quickly.
Life, after all, is filled with disappointment. The future is never ours to predict. This I knew.
But what I never knew was that the last thing Lucifer would ever say to me was—
“You’re free.”
And the last thing I would ever say to him—
“Take care.”
I also didn’t know then that this would be our final meeting in this life.
The Battle of Seraph thus came to an end.
One could say this battle, which nearly destroyed the Sanctum, was the most bizarre episode in the history of the war between Heaven and the Demon Realm. From the beginning, through the course, to the end, none of it followed the usual path. The soldiers of both realms had been bracing for the final, decisive clash between God and the Sovereign of Demons, but Lucifer, who had already advanced to the very edge of Sancta Faylia, suddenly withdrew his forces and returned to the Demon Realm. Regardless, both realms suffered heavy losses from this war, and there would be no possibility of another for the foreseeable future.
That night after the battle, I slept poorly, drifting between dream and wakefulness. I had three dreams in a row, all about Lucifer.
The first felt extraordinarily real: after returning to the Demon Realm, Lucifer instructed Azazel to handle post-war matters and delegated a few tasks for the coming days. Then, he formally announced Mammon as the next Sovereign of Demons, and the succession was to take place the very next day.
The second dream was short, and very surreal: Lucifer had reverted to the form of the Archangel once again. His statue still stood at the center of Jerusalem. Holding a small me in his arms, he stood outside the city walls and pointed into the distance. “Isar, look— from here, you can see Eden.” I followed his gaze. Beyond the thick forest canopy, one could see the corner of Eden, with its clear rivers and the flourishing Tree of Life.
The third dream was long. And after this one, I could no longer sleep.
I don’t know why, but the moment the dream began, I was already overwhelmed with a sorrowful, repressed emotion. Lucifer and I disembarked from a boat on the riverside. Up ahead was the Ninth Hell of the Demon Realm. A barren silence blanketed the landscape. Black petals floated through the air.
We stepped ashore and walked forward. The cracked ground beneath my feet sparked an inexplicable panic in me. We stopped at the bridge-tower overlooking the abyss. This was the very place Belial had nearly lost his life.
Light had spread across the sky on the opposite shore. Lucifer checked his pocket watch. “Fifteen minutes left. You can leave me here. Do you know your way back?”
In the dream, it felt as if I already knew something terrible was going to happen. I grabbed his collar and tried to drag him back. “I’m done playing. Come back with me.”
Lucifer brushed my hand away. I grabbed him again. He brushed me off again. I clung to him with all my strength, making it impossible for him to fight back. Dragged along for a bit, he finally grew annoyed. “You can’t beat me.”
“Then I’ll go with you.”
“You’ll die. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous? When have I ever been ridiculous? You’re going off to die for no reason, and I’m just supposed to let you? Fine—then tell me. Why did you set the swords? Why are you dismantling them now? Is this some kind of twisted suicide? Interesting, this method is certainly novel!”
“Calm down. We don’t have much time. When I placed the swords, the incantation was meant to destroy the entire world. Listen closely: if I go to dismantle them, only I will die. But if I don’t, then you, Hanniah, Mammon, Belial, Metatron, Gabriel, all and all, everyone and everything, will perish. Understand?”
“Tell me why. Why did you do this?”
“One day, I just felt life was incredibly boring. So I decided to find some excitement.”
I stared at him in disbelief, my voice rising. “Lucifer, are you NUTS?! You wanted to destroy the universe because you were bored?! How the hell can you be this irresponsible?!”
He seemed to have anticipated my anger and responded with a light chuckle. “Responsibility, responsibility. You always talk about responsibility. You did when you were God, and now again as an angel. The way you live is exhausting.”
“I’m not Father God. We’re fundamentally different.” I gritted my teeth and finally decided to be cruel to us both. “Admit it. From beginning to end, the one you truly loved was Father God. Michael was just a stand-in.”
“You’re right. I don’t love Michael.” Behind him, silver light gleamed. He gently brushed the hair from my forehead. “But I don’t love the Creator God either.”
“You’re right, Lucifer. You love no one. You only love yourself.”
He didn’t reply directly. He just smiled and said, “So don’t do anything for me. It’s not worth it. I’ve only ever acted out of spite. I’ve never loved anyone. After I’m gone, live well. You hear me? Live well.”
He spun around and strode toward the long bridge.
“Lucifer, don’t go!” Tears finally broke free, streaming from my eyes.
I ran to him, hugging him from behind. “It’s fine if you don’t love me. I don’t care.” My voice choked so hard I could barely speak. “I love you.”
He didn’t move. His body was rigid. Just then, silver light surged—shockwaves expanding like they would engulf the world.
I clutched him tightly. “Let me try it, you wait here. Watch the time. If I don’t come out, then you go. Okay?” I wiped my tears, forcing a smile. “Wait for me. I’ll be back.”
I patted his cheek, smiling. His figure blurred, then cleared, then blurred again.
“You can try it,” he said, back still turned. “But wait first, I need to do something.” He interrupted me. “Close your eyes.”
“Huh?”
He covered my eyes with his hand. “Promise me. Don’t open them until I say you can.”
“Okay.”
“Swear it.”
“I swear.”
Some time passed. His hand was still covering my eyes.
“Is it done yet?”
“Hurry, or we’ll be too late.”
“Lucifer, what are you doing?”
“Stop wasting time. What are you trying to do?”
“Lucifer? Lucifer?”
Halfway through, I already had a feeling. But I didn’t dare open my eyes. Didn’t dare confirm that what covered them was nothing but a layer of illusion magic.
I don’t know how long I stood there.
The Source of Sin was the world’s bottom, the deepest layer of Hell. Every word spoken was swallowed by the darkness, carried away by sorrowful winds.
It felt like I was trying to confirm my existence—his existence. Whether or not there would be a reply.
Moments later, a white light swallowed the entire world.
Even through closed eyelids, I could feel its piercing brilliance. It surged in, then vanished just as fast.
All was dead silence again. Utter black. And on my eyes, the warmth of his hand still lingered.
Just like years ago, in the Hall of Splendor in the imperial capital, how little Ruthfel had covered my eyes, blocking out the whole world’s light.
The world held only him.
Then, he kissed me gently, like magic, transforming into my lover.
My eyelids twitched. The warmth gradually faded. The magic, too, disappeared with its caster’s passing.
And yet, I still didn’t dare open my eyes. I only dared to keep asking and asking, over and over:
Lucifer, are you still here beside me?
……
……
In the dream, sorrow had been so calm, yet I awoke with a jolt, tears covering my face. I wiped them away and found out it was already morning. Realizing that everything had just been a dream, I let out a long breath of relief, got dressed, and flew toward Sancta Faylia.
At the morning assembly in the Sanctum, the seraphs were unusually out of formation—not quietly awaiting God’s arrival as they normally would, but gathered in hushed conversation. Only then did I notice how crowded the streets had been today, and how much more talkative the people seemed. I had assumed it was the post-war reconstruction making Heaven feel so noisy, but the moment I drew near the archangels, I heard Medanzo speaking:
“Maybe no one else will understand what I mean. They may even violently oppose it. But—Lucifer was not a fit ruler.”
Randekiel said, “How would you know? What if he had his reasons, what if he did it all for the sake of the Demon Realm?”
“If it was truly for the Demon Realm, then he never would’ve placed those two swords in the first place.” Metatron was unusually talkative that day, and clearly unstable. “A true sovereign wouldn’t have acted like Lucifer.”
“What are you talking about?”
The moment I asked this question, all the archangels visibly stiffened.
Gabriel, upon seeing me, looked at me with sorrow and regret etched across her face.
She stepped forward and took my hand. “Michael, something major happened in the Demon Realm yesterday. You need to prepare yourself.”
“What happened?” I was smiling, but my heart had already begun to sink.
Gabriel glanced at the others, then back at me. After a long hesitation, she finally said softly:
“Lucifer is dead.”
When I had first begun to suspect this outcome, I thought I would go mad, thought I would grab her shoulders and shake her wildly, screaming that I didn’t believe it. But in reality, I only felt a flicker of surprise.
“Dead? No. That can’t be.”
“It’s true. He died pulling apart the fused Holy Sword and Infernal Sword. He was destroyed along with them.”
“He may only be gravely wounded. He’s Lucifer, the Sovereign of Demons. He once bore five-sixths of divine power as the Right Wing of God. There’s no way two swords could kill him.”
“Do you know the combined power of the Holy Sword and Infernal Sword?”
“Yes. If joined, there’s a 50% chance they could obliterate anything at will five thousand years later—and a 50% chance they would destroy the entire world.”
“After you died, it wasn’t long before Lucifer merged the two swords and placed them in the Source of Sin. Last night, at eleven o’clock, it was exactly five thousand years.”
“Lucifer never does anything without thinking it through, especially not something this dangerous, with such uncertain odds.”
“If his goal had been ‘to destroy the world’, then the chance of success would’ve been one hundred percent.”
“He still had a Demon Realm to govern. Why would he want to destroy the world? If he’d truly made up his mind to do that, why bother dismantling the swords? Besides, he’s the Demon Sovereign. Taking them apart shouldn’t have killed him.”
“Only the one who combined them has the power to separate them. But once they’re pulled apart, the five thousand years’ worth of accumulated destructive power is released—directly into that person’s body. No one, no matter who, could survive that.”
Author: Tav Tav
Translating
The Right Wing of God, the one seated at the right hand of the Most High.
