It was late. After the banquet ended, the crowd gradually dispersed. The skies over Shima had turned a misty gray, and the City of Hope fell into slumber. Along the snow-white streets, rows of street lamps stood guard, their light diffusing into the thin fog like clusters of constellations, or flickering sprites. I walked back to the hall alone.
The hall had just been cleaned. All the joy and festivity seemed to have been swept away in an instant, leaving only the faintest trace of light behind. In the center was a round pool. If you looked down into it, you could see the starlight of the layer below, the flowing Milky Way, like moonlit waves upon the sea. Lucifer’s face, framed by that pale light, appeared utterly bloodless.
I looked at him for a long time before I gathered the courage to approach. I stopped at the entrance of the confinement chamber. Only a thin veil of light separated us.
He finally looked back at me. His pupils were exceptionally bright, but carried a trace of fatigue. I had drunk too much earlier; my head was hot. I had thought of asking him certain questions but now that I stood here, the thought felt utterly absurd.
So I simply stood there, watching him. I clenched my fists slightly, trying to speak with neither arrogance nor fear.
“If you consider surrendering, we can minimize casualties on both sides.”
Perhaps because I had been so used to obeying him, saying this aloud stirred a subtle fear in me.
Lucifer looked at me and chuckled softly, then turned his eyes away.
I paused, then said, “Maybe you think what I’m doing is low, but I am myself, and Heaven is Heaven.”
“It’s not low at all.” Lucifer wore a light smile. “Michael, considering your abilities, nothing you do can be called dishonorable.”
I couldn’t help being surprised. Ever since I’d known him, this was the first time he had ever belittled me like that.
I held it in for a long while before I replied, “I fight for God, not to duel you. Besides, if you were truly that powerful, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
“For God?” Lucifer suddenly laughed aloud.
“What’s so funny?”
“I understand you, really. Given your current, awkward position, that’s about the only thing you can say.”
My heart tightened.
I did my best not to let it show.
“I only came to urge your surrender. I have no interest in discussing anything else with you. Wait for Heaven to breach your realm.”
“I believe you’ve understood, then,” Lucifer said softly. “About the past—I’m truly sorry.”
I cut him off. “I’m not interested in listening.”
“How could you not be interested?” Lucifer crossed his legs, arms folded over his chest. He didn’t look like a prisoner at all. He was more relaxed and elegant than he ever was in the Demon Realm. “Isn’t that why you came? To ask me about those things?”
“I said I’m not interested.”
I turned to leave—but just then, I heard him speak behind me in the Heavenly Language.
Ever since he became Demon King, Lucifer had never spoken in the Heavenly Language. Even if he understood it, he always replied in the tongue of demons. If he used the Heavenly Language for someone, it meant he was being deeply respectful.
He said: “I’m sorry.”
“…You’ve done nothing you need to apologize for.”
“No matter what lies between Heaven and the Demon Realm, I need to apologize for what happened between us—for everything I’ve done,” Lucifer said sincerely. “I never considered your feelings—”
“Stop talking.” I cut him off immediately. “I know what you’re trying to say. I forgive you. Just stop talking.”
Even though I had long accepted it… hearing it from his own lips still felt…unreal.
Lucifer was telling me that he never considered my feelings. That he used me.
The Archangel I had clung to since birth, the Vice Regent I adored in my youth, the Sovereign of Demons I had loved as an adult… said to me: I’m sorry.
Because he didn’t love me.
Because through me, he loved someone else.
And now he expects me to accept that.
“If you understand, then of course that’s for the best,” he said. “Michael, you’ve always been the one closest to me. Outside of politics, I can give you any compensation.”
“No need.” I drew a deep breath. “You owe me nothing. There’s no debt in these matters. Besides, it’s been a long time.”
What I wanted… he couldn’t possibly give. What I wished to change… would never change, not in this lifetime. So why force myself? Why add more pain?
So no matter what he said or did, I would still feel the same as before. Whether enemy, friend, or lover—I can accept loving him in whichever way, any way possible.
So long as he never finds out.
I turned and looked at him. “People don’t always need something new and fleeting. Sometimes, it’s the plain and lasting bonds that matter most. I have my own family. I haven’t forgotten.”
The next few days, the situation in the Demon Realm deteriorated to its absolute worst. The monetary policy Lucifer had implemented was a gamble to begin with, and now it was clear—an utter failure. The divine race all knew this was the perfect moment to press the advantage. The archangels made daily trips to the Sanctum, busier than ever, each of them full of spirit and confidence. Only God Himself was speaking less and less. Sometimes, it struck me how much He resembled Lucifer.
A few days later, after the morning pilgrimage, I joined Metatron, Gabriel, Randekiel, and several other archangels to discuss having afternoon tea in Fourth Heaven.
Outside the gates of Jerusalem, angels flew to and fro. Upon landing at the city gates, everyone would switch to walking. Not long ago, Gabriel had commissioned new uniforms for the divine laborers, and now they were all officially “on the market.” Seeing the gatekeepers clad in pristine white, Gabriel said with evident pride, “This is what true divinity should look like. Divine ones ought to be snow-white. That beige from before was just too plain.”
Metatron squinted at the guards, his eyes narrowing into slits. “Why do they all look like delicate girls?”
Gabriel glanced at him, lifting a brow. “What, you trying to say all good-looking people are feminine?”
“Yeah. But I’m not feminine, so I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”
Randekiel patted Metatron’s shoulder and said with grave earnestness, “With that face of yours, femininity isn’t even an option.”
“Little Michael looks like a woman though.”
Gabriel gave me a quick once-over, then pinched my arm. “Not so much after coming of age, though that face is still flawless. But look at these arms—how could anyone call this womanly?”
Randekiel followed up, “Exactly, Your Highness has a body that’d be wasted on a woman. Tsk.”
“Seems like we’ve been far too influenced by the Demon Realm. A bunch of genderless folk standing around debating who’s manlier or womanlier, aha.”
Just then, a Dominion with whom I’d once shared a fleeting affair came up and twined his slender fingers around my arm. “His Highness is nothing like a woman. I know.”
Metatron feigned ignorance. “Why’s that?”
“Because I know.”
“Oho, and how do you know?”
“Because… because I just do.” The Dominion blushed. He was the textbook “very feminine” type, looking up at me with a fragile face, petite wings, and a gaze full of fear and passion. For a moment, I felt like some twisted old man trying to lure a little girl.
Metatron had once said: Those who are powerful always carry a fatal allure.
I knew that for kids this age, we—myself and the others in our group—were incredibly alluring. Probably because they only ever saw our glory, not our pasts. A master of love must have been heartbroken countless times. A successful figure must have known countless humiliations. Gabriel could compliment my looks, my strength, my growing maturity and charm. But I could easily attract a hundred young, beautiful angels and still never attract her. Because she knew.
She knew I had been bullied there and back again hundreds of times, over and over. That I had been abandoned by Lucifer, again and again, hundreds, countless times. Someone like that—what charm could possibly remain?
Within the city, the streets were packed, a sea of light and prosperity. Though crowded, most angels still insisted on walking. It was rare for us to land without attendants just to rest. Fourth Heaven was the most socially mixed layer—ordinary angels, Dominions, even a few Virtues could be seen, while Intelligences were rare, Thrones rarer still, and seeing a Seraph once a year was already a blessing. As for archangels, a once-in-a-century sight. So, our presence attracted more than a few stares. Every now and then, someone would come up to greet us.
The angel beside me was still clinging to my arm; I suspected his head-turning rate surpassed even mine. Metatron lazily brushed the hair from his forehead and muttered, “It’s been too long since we’ve come down to Fourth Heaven. If we don’t stretch our legs now, they’re bound to devolve into arms.”
The moment he said that, not only did Gabriel’s face sour, even the Dominion latched onto me showed a flicker of fear. Metatron was particularly skilled at scaring people. After a long silence, Gabriel finally replied, “Lord Metatron, has anyone ever told you… sometimes your words are absolutely disgusting?”
“Really? I had no idea. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
At the center of the city stood my statue. That plaza was always the most densely populated location, and the only zone where free flight was allowed. Angels circled the statue in the air, and on the ground, the place was equally crowded. Gabriel looked up at it and sighed, “Why is it statues are always better looking than the real person?”
The Dominion beside me glanced over and shook his head. “That statue doesn’t have fiery red hair or sapphire eyes. How could it look better than the real person?”
Metatron nodded. “Naturally. Like the statue of Gabriel that just went up in central Parnor, its legs are way longer and slimmer than yours.”
Gabriel sneered. “That’s your city, yet it’s my statue. I understand. You’re bitter.”
“They say that statue isn’t the Angel of Water but the Bargaining Banshee. You haggled so many times in Parnor that the merchants grew spiteful and put up the statue to ward off evil.”
“When people are jealous, I take it as a form of flattery. End of discussion.”
Randekiel said, “Oh right, Parnor. Wasn’t that a gift Ruthfel gave you long ago?”
“Ruthfel…?” the Dominion repeated faintly. After that, he trailed off and said no more.
Metatron glanced at me and only nodded.
Gabriel said, “In all of Heaven’s history, only Lord Ruthfel ever handed out a city as a birthday gift. No one else ever held that kind of power.”
“Why?”
“Heaven back then was completely different from now. These days, His Highness Michael may be the highest-ranking in the divine race, but even to carry out a new policy in a single city, it takes consultation with all the archangels, and then a vote by the Seraphim. But back then, Ruthfel ruled Heaven like it was his own. Even to demote Uriel by severing his wings, a punishment of that magnitude, he didn’t report it to God, he just did it. Of the five angelic legions, he had control of the three strongest. The Zodiac Twelve were practically his private army. If it weren’t for Michael and Banane being war comrades, Banane probably would’ve dragged the whole Zodiac into the Demon Realm… Basically, he did whatever he pleased.”
“Really? Then he must’ve been amazing.”
“If he wasn’t, how else would he have become the Sovereign of Demons?”
The Dominion looked at me, hesitating.
“Hah, Lord Michael doesn’t mind,” Gabriel added with a glance at me, clicking her tongue. “Honestly, if Ruthfel had stayed Vice Regent a few more years, Shima might’ve ended up as Michael’s birthday gift.”
“Sounds amazing… So His Highness Michael and Lord Lucifer aren’t enemies. They were friends,” the Dominion concluded, evidently someone who had studied history but absorbed none of it. His eyes shone. “I knew it! Other than God, the two greatest beings—how could they be enemies? It must be hard for Lord Michael now, having to oppose a close friend just because of their positions.”
I smiled. “It’s been too long. Many things are hard to remember… Randekiel, what’s going on up ahead?”
A commotion had gathered soldiers and civilians alike.
Randekiel spread his golden wings, dramatic as always. Even if no one came for the scene, they came for him. He flew forward, then back. “Demons trying to profit off a national crisis. Conducting illegal trade in First Heaven.”
I walked over. When the soldiers saw me, they stepped aside.
“Lord Michael.”
Surrounded by the crowd were a few lesser devils, and one figure I recognized immediately as a half-blood. He looked increasingly familiar, until I realized it was Mullin, Belial’s good friend from the slave ship. He was injured, likely from fighting the soldiers, but he remained the calmest among them. I gave a brief command, and they released him. After informing the archangels, I took Mullin to a quiet grove outside the city.
He looked at me with wary, hostile eyes. Not a word.
“Have you been in contact with Belial lately?”
“That’s my own business.”
Of course he was Belial’s friend. Even their tone matched.
“Relax, I wasn’t expecting you to tell me anything. But he uses Self-Erosion. I’m worried about his health.” I looked at the wound on his chest and reached out to heal him with a beam of Sacred Light.
“Ugh—” he grunted and stepped back violently.
I froze, then remembered that light-based recovery magic has a reverse effect on demons. I quickly pulled out some coins. “Sorry. That was a mistake. Take this, get back to the Demon Realm. If you can… stay with Belial.”
“Why?”
“Ask him. If he wants to, he’ll tell you.”
After Mullin left, my mind lingered on the issue of healing magic. Both Heaven and the Demon Realm practiced magic, but each had its flaws. The divine race had abundant magic power, but light magic existed only as large-scale spells, not practical in combat. Demons, on the other hand, had strong resistance to all but light magic. So the divine side had ample energy but poor effect, while demons wielded high-damage dark magic, but couldn’t sustain casting due to innate limitations. The moment they fired off a spell, our side could sprinkle holy water and pray, and with a few seconds of Holy Light, everyone would be full of vigor again.
Pros and cons—magic just wasn’t as thrilling as close combat.
But something didn’t add up.
What if we used prayer magic on demons while on Heaven’s territory?
I brought it up with the other archangels, and they all agreed it was worth testing. At the next morning council, I proposed the idea. Nearly everyone supported it—except Uriel’s faction. They claimed it was too reckless and uncharacteristic unless we ran trials first.
So, I went back to the sealed chamber in Sancta Faylia to see Lucifer.
“I saw Mullin today. Belial’s friend.”
“Mhm.” Lucifer sat in place, unmoving.
“If possible, I’d like you to write a letter. Transfer him to the palace. Let him spend more time with Belial.”
“Why?”
“They grew up together. Mullin’s helped Belial more than once.”
“I meant why are you asking me to do it?”
“Because Belial is our son—” I answered naturally, then smiled. “Even if you don’t acknowledge him.”
A voice came from the door. “How touching.”
I turned around. Uriel stood there, emerald eye blinking with an exaggerated grin. “Lucifer, I bet you never imagined you’d live to see this day.”
Lucifer said nothing.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Nothing much. I just wanted to see if Your Highness Michael’s so-called magic theory actually works.”
Uriel stepped outside the sealed chamber. Alarmed, I immediately stood and moved in front of Lucifer to block him. But it was too late—Uriel was a powerful mage. He muttered an incantation, raised his hand, and a silver cross of light unfolded above Lucifer’s head. Holy light cascaded down and enveloped him. He instantly began to cough.
I rushed forward and grabbed Uriel’s hand. “Stop it!”
“Why should I stop?”
“He’s the Demon Sovereign, a critical hostage.”
“Exactly. Even you know he’s the Demon Sovereign. You think a Demon Sovereign would die that easily? I don’t believe Father God would mind me sprinkling a little water on him anyway.” With that, he flung holy water and cast an even stronger healing spell. “The price of betraying God is that even a basic blessing becomes a curse. How pitiful.”
Lucifer covered his mouth, trying hard to suppress the pain.
I lunged forward and punched Uriel in the waist. Uriel finally hurt enough to stop chanting, staggered back two steps, and leaned against the door.
“Lucifer is just an arrogant man with no self-awareness,” he panted. “But at least he’s straightforward. And you, Michael? After using Lucifer, now you’re using Metatron, and even Randekiel is eating out of your hand. This is the first time I’ve realized that being Archangel Commander doesn’t require strength, only sycophancy.”
“You get out right now.”
“So many excuses, Michael. But what’s the real reason you’re protecting him? Guilt? Or is it just that you can’t let him go?”
“I don’t care what you say. All I want is for you to leave.”
“What are you scared of?”
“I’m not scared.”
“Then why won’t you answer me?”
“It’s not that I won’t answer, just that your question is meaningless.”
“You’re God’s right hand. Having an affair with the Demon Sovereign is meaningless?”
I knew by now that Uriel was trying to provoke me. In wartime, people get bored and combative.
I took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. “There’s no point explaining anything to you. There’s nothing between me and him anymore. You can ask him yourself. If he still wants the Demon Realm to win, he has no reason to hide anything for me. And besides, everyone in the world knows I’ve been in love with him since I was young. Even if I say I don’t like him now, who would believe me? The fact that you’d even ask shows how dumb you are. You sure are obsessed with my private affairs, though. What’s your motive? Now, kindly get the hell out.”
Finally, Uriel ran out of words and stormed off in a rage.
I immediately returned to Lucifer’s side, bent down, and patted his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”
Lucifer was still covering his mouth, shaking his head.
After a while, I tried pulling his hand away. At first, he wouldn’t move. I tugged harder, and finally got it free. His palm was covered in blood.
“How… how did this happen? Wait here, I’ll go find potions—”
“No need,” Lucifer shook his head gently. “It’s not serious.”
Then I remembered that this was a sealed chamber. He couldn’t use magic to heal himself. But I couldn’t let him out either. So I said, “Then… how about I bring you a bed? Lying down might be more comfortable.”
Lucifer wiped the blood from his mouth and chuckled. “No need, thank you.”
“All right. Then I’ll go for now. I’ll come back tonight. If you need anything, just tell me then.”
Just as I turned to leave, Lucifer grabbed my wrist.
I looked back in surprise.
“There’s something I want to ask you,” he said.
“What is it?” I crouched down and looked up at him.
Lucifer lowered his hand and, for once, looked back at me.
I was a bit nervous, but still determined not to avert his gaze.
He seemed to forget to let go of my wrist and spoke softly:
“Just now, what you said…”
“Oh, that.” I smiled lightly. “Doesn’t matter how I explain, he wouldn’t have listened. That was the only answer I could come up with. Don’t take it too seriously.”
“Still, to say something and have no one believe you… must feel pretty awful.”
“I don’t need to explain to anyone.” I smiled again, ready to follow up with “you don’t need to believe it either,” but midway through that smile, I looked into his eyes—and couldn’t smile anymore.
Turns out I wasn’t as noble as I thought.
I lost control, and the words I swore I’d never say slipped out:
“…Though what I said was also true.”
I distinctly felt Lucifer’s fingers tremble.
Time froze.
He kept staring at me. That gaze, once so familiar, suddenly felt completely foreign.
“Why did you say it out loud?”
“I love you. You know that. I was just talking. I’m not even expecting you to respon-…”
He cut me off: “I’m sorry.”
That same answer. Again.
For a moment, I didn’t know how to reply. I could only wonder: have I lost even the right to love single-sidedly?
“…Got it.” I heard my own voice, low, hoarse. My whole body had gone numb.
Lucifer gently tucked my hair behind my ear.
“I’m not worth it… try being with someone else.”
“That’s my decision.” I brushed his hand away and stood up. “I never said I wanted to force you to love me. And you don’t get to decide what I do.”
Lucifer stood as well. “Michael, I just—”
“I don’t know what I did wrong. I didn’t ask for anything. I only said I liked you. You can’t even tolerate something that small now?”
He was tall. I used to look up at him when we were young but now we stood eye to eye. And yet, it felt like the distance between us had never been greater.
I could hardly control my emotions. But I knew that no matter how shaken I was, I absolutely cannot cry.
Lucifer turned his head away and shut his eyes. “Enough.”
“Lucifer, ever since the day I was born, I’ve never felt true happiness whenever I thought of you. Every memory you’ve left me, every one of them only brings me pain.”
His brows drew tight. He still wouldn’t look at me. “Enough.”
“If I could, I would choose never to have met you. I would choose those who love me. I’d even rather stay single my whole life, never feel anything for anyone—ANYTHING would be better than this!”
Finally, Lucifer turned back and grabbed my shoulders. “It’s my fault.”
“Oh, so you admit it now? Being with me was your fault.”
Lucifer looked at me—
and suddenly pulled me into an embrace.
Then he kissed me.
He held me so tightly my bones ached. I couldn’t breathe.
It was just like when we first visited the Demon Realm. In the dragon cave. A kiss in the dark.
He had his way of making things unforgettable for me forever.
He let me go. The rim of his eyes turned red.
“Michael. Listen to me. I don’t love you. I never want to be with you again. I have Sidis now. So please, cherish those who love you. Don’t waste another moment on me.”
Just my luck. When I returned to the streets of Sancta Faylia, it was pouring. White rose petals floated in the runoff, aimless, lost.
But I swore I wouldn’t cry so even in the downpour, I didn’t shed a tear.
It was just that… it felt like my tears had turned to salt, seeping into the wounds on my heart, burning holes all the way through.
The rain was too heavy to fly. I had to walk.
This was a city of silver, a city of hope.
Once, when Lucifer was still Archangel Commander, he had held me in his arms in this very city, in the same rain, and nearly wept as he said he loved me, that he never wanted to leave me again.
Back then, I never imagined we’d end up like this.
That moment is etched in my mind. I still remember the first time I saw him soaked and disheveled. I remember every word he said. I remember the rose petals falling like snow across the entire world.
Only his gentle, smiling eyes—I can’t seem to remember them anymore.
Half a month later, on a certain day, the first three layers of Heaven fell into chaos.
Early that morning, word spread that Belial had led troops to invade Heaven and was using Self-Erosion. By the time I arrived at First Heaven, the Demon Realm’s army had already been utterly routed.
At the very front, a one-winged black-robed warlock was kneeling on the ground, clutching his chest. A few Thrones hovered above him, wings beating in place, long hair floating in the air, sprinkling holy water while praying. Amidst the misty air, the dawn of First Heaven blazed, and an invisible cross unfurled in the sky. I immediately flew forward and slashed down the holy cups from their hands.
“Your Highness, what are you doing!” one of the Thrones cried out. “This is a grand warlock! If we don’t kill him, none of us will survive!”
I walked straight to the sorcerer, grabbed the back of his head, and lifted his face. It was skeletal.
If it had been Belial, then while using Self-Erosion, his wings would have turned skeletal too. And he practiced exclusively in pure dark magic so if this were really him, he likely wouldn’t have survived this encounter. But I believed Belial wouldn’t be so easily dealt with by just a few Thrones.
“This is just a skeletal soldier with unusually high resistance to magic. With such a large army, do they not have a commander?”
“But… he’s Belial…” the leading Throne said unwillingly.
“I know you want him to be Belial.” Behind me, Randekiel’s voice rang out. “But if Belial were so easy to conquer, we wouldn’t have suffered this much.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“As soon as we heard Belial turned into a skeleton again, we all panicked. The other archangels are on their way too. But this was quite the false alarm.”
“Wait a moment…” I scanned the battlefield littered with corpses, then turned to Randekiel. “Why would they send an army here just to put on a show?”
“No idea. Maybe they’re making a final, desperate play.” Randekiel’s face wore a mocking smile—until it abruptly dropped. “Your Highness, behind you—”
“What?”
I hadn’t even had time to turn when I took a heavy blow to the waist.
My body pitched forward, nearly falling from the air. Fortunately, the wound wasn’t deep. When I turned back, I saw the archdevil standing behind.
It was Mammon, clad in skeletal armor. His wings flared as he raised the Scythe of Destruction high and slashed toward me. I instantly drew Radiance and blocked that massive weapon. Red flames surged along Radiance’s blade, clashing again and again with the scythe in bursts of searing sparks.
Mammon’s brow furrowed slightly, sweat forming on his forehead. It had been centuries since I’d seen him fight so seriously. I placed my other hand on the hilt and could hear the grind of my own bones. We were locked in a dead clash.
Then came a sharp metallic shriek—his strength gave out. He lost balance in midair and was thrown back over ten meters. At that moment, Uriel’s reflection appeared on Radiance.
“In the midst of vanity and pleasure, O angels, return to the turmoils of this defiled world—for the impure air must be purified by your power…” Uriel chanted in a high voice.
Mammon had just regained balance when I shot forward and struck his scythe again. He couldn’t hold out and fell hard onto the outer steps of the Gates of Heaven.
“—Be purified!”
In a flash, a massive cross and translucent wings unfolded above Mammon’s head.
He was now outside the Gate, so the spell couldn’t inflict damage.
“Michael, well done. Still trying to save him?” Uriel snarled, raising his staff and continuing to chant. “O deer of the heavens, O lion of flux, heed my command—Descend! Heavenly Thunder!”
Lightning exploded. Purple bolts struck down toward Mammon. I quickly raised my sword to intercept, but one bolt still slipped past, grazing Mammon directly. He dodged the minor attacks, but the next moment, he hooked his scythe’s shaft against my chest and dragged me backward beyond the Gate.
In that confrontation, something didn’t sit right with me.
If they truly meant to ambush First Heaven, why such open spectacle? If the goal was war—or rescuing Lucifer—why bring so few?
A chill raced down my spine.
Lucifer.
“Quick—go back to Shima!”
But I’d barely spoken when I saw Metatron, Gabriel, and the other archangels already arriving with reinforcements.
“Metatron! Get back!” I shouted in panic. “They came for Lucifer—get back to Shima now! I’ll handle Mammon!”
It was as if Mammon sensed my intent. His attacks grew fiercer to keep me pinned. The rest of our forces began to go back. Angered, I struck Mammon back a few paces: “Mammon, do you really think this will save him? Stop wasting time. Go back and think long and hard about how to fight us—”
The words were barely out when they were invalidated.
Behind Mammon, the tall, majestic Sovereign of Demons smiled at me.
“Michael, did you really believe you could keep me captive?” Then he pointed at me with one gloved hand.
Black flames erupted from the ground, forming a sudden wall between Mammon and me. Then another tendril of dark fire curled out from the wall and bound my arms.
I realized, with dread, that this was the first time I’d seen Lucifer cast magic in earnest.
First, he used Wall of Dark Flame, then Chains of Darkness—but they were cast instantly. He didn’t chant, didn’t even need Self-Corruption…
No chance of victory for us.
“Dad, take him back,” Mammon said, wiping the blood from his mouth. He glared at me fiercely—but there was unmistakable reluctance in his eyes. “You really hit that hard… so heartless.”
Behind him, Belial, Samael, Azazel and the others were already waiting.
Lucifer didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at me. He turned and left.
By the time the other angels arrived, Lucifer hadn’t gotten far. He and the demon army flew slowly, as if simply out for a stroll. But not one of the divine race moved to pursue.
Everyone knew: once Lucifer stepped beyond the Gates of Heaven, it was pointless for us to chase him again.
That night, I didn’t even bother returning to the Hall of Splendor. I stayed at Metatron’s Jerusalem estate, sleepless in regret. I stood at the window for what felt like four or five hours. Even Metatron, not usually one for comfort, came over and gently patted my shoulder.
“Little Michael,” he whispered, “It really wasn’t your fault. Don’t dwell on it.”
“I don’t care whose fault it is—after Lucifer goes back, he’s going to find a way to counter our magic. Are we going to be at a disadvantage all over again…?”
Metatron wrapped his arms around my waist, giving me a reassuring hug. Through the layers of forest, Jerusalem’s silver spires looked like they were built on moonlight. I closed my eyes and hugged him back.
But that hug didn’t last.
An earth-shaking crash split the night.
The cross-shaped window behind me shattered in an instant.
Someone grabbed my arm.
Before I could even check on Metatron, I was already dragged into the sky.
The moment I turned my head and saw Lucifer’s face, black mist surged up—and I left Heaven.
Author: Tav Tav
Translating
The Right Wing of God, the one seated at the right hand of the Most High.
