The boatman chuckled. “His Majesty Lucifer is truly the most devoted man I’ve ever seen.”
Mammon shuddered. “Women? Just a way to pass the time. I’d never end up like him.”
The more I listened, the more familiar those words sounded. I turned to glance at Mammon. For no apparent reason, he scooted closer, took a lock of my hair, twirled it around his fingers, then leaned in and whispered, “I like your hair. Very pretty.”
“Thanks.” Coming from a supposedly straight guy, that caught me off guard. I instinctively edged away.
Mammon waved dismissively as if he didn’t care, then turned to resume his idle banter with the boatman.
Drifting downstream, we arrived at the Sixth Hell’s capital, Laim, the Fire City among the five elemental capitals. As the commercial heart of the Demon Realm, the Sixth Hell was also called the “Brain of the Demon Realm.” Though known as the Fire City, its position along the midstream of the Solor River made Laim a place where water and flame mingled. Its front gates opened toward the riverbank, while its rear pressed against a field of volcanic lava.
Mammon paid the fare and disembarked with me, speaking as we walked. “Demons living in Laim often see snowflakes falling, mixed with molten lava.”
“Like right now?” I asked.
He looked up, eyes curling into a smile.
Crimson clouds filled the sky. Sailing ships—enormous wooden vessels like pirate galleons—glided through them, fitted with oars and thin, giant wings like dancers in flight. Amid the dense red haze, flocks of bats scattered and spiraled around a central spectacle.
Near the city’s western heart blazed an enormous fireball. Mammon tapped it with the handle of his scythe. “That’s Laim’s tallest structure, the one with the red-and-gold spire. The Tower of Satan’s Flame.”
Inside the scarlet sphere, a purple hexagram pulsed erratically, as if ready to explode from the flames at any moment.
He pointed toward another central building. “That one, topped with the golden dome, is the Palace of Ten Thousand Demons.”
It stood proudly at the volcano’s base, stretching all the way to the Solor River’s banks. Eight bastions flanked it, with seventeen bell towers in total. Six towers—Samael Tower, Sariel Tower, Beelzebub Tower among them—each held ruby pentagrams that gleamed day and night.
Mammon nudged me. “Hey, don’t forget. You’re supposed to be dressed as a girl.”
“You want to make a contract with me? Then you’ve got to show me around all of Rhodheoga first.”
He gave a casual “Oh” and led me toward the Palace of Ten Thousand Demons. Fire and snow danced through the streets, twisting and twirling as demon mages hurried back and forth. Enchanting succubi were everywhere. Mammon was even more popular here than he was above, almost everyone greeted him with a bow. I kept my hood low, yet still drew plenty of stares.
With a smoking pipe in his mouth, Mammon brought me to a clothing shop. He pulled out a crumpled piece of leather parchment, borrowed a feather pen from the owner, and scribbled the contract terms at lightning speed. After that, he bought an outfit and shoved it into my hands, telling me to go change in the fitting room.
When I lifted the dress and got a good look at it, my mind buzzed blank.
Sure, it’s a masquerade ball—but cross-dressing? That’s just too much for me.
I stared at my shoulders in the mirror. Then at the slim, narrow evening gown… If it were me back in my younger days, maybe I could’ve pulled it off. But now? A girl over six feet tall, and Mammon’s planning to show up with me on his arm?
People are going to laugh their horns off.
I turned back to Mammon. “Are you sure you want me to wear this? You really think I won’t rip it to shreds?”
Mammon lounged against the gilded mirror, waving the contract in his hand and raising a brow. “See you at the ball, Your Highness Michael.”
And off he ran, leaving me standing there dumbfounded.
With no other choice, I had to invoke my Seraphic power to shift into my younger form. I donned a wig and slipped into that ridiculous little dress. When I emerged and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I still didn’t look feminine enough. Awkwardly, I asked the female demon shopkeeper if I could borrow some makeup. She stared at me for a long moment, then finally said:
“Your Majesty, all you need is a bit of lipstick and eyeshadow.”
Your Majesty?
She thought I was Lilith…
Leaving the store, I looked at the bustling street, then up at the night sky. I lowered the black veil to cover half my face and gripped the black lace fan in my hand. My gloves were elbow-length black velvet with silver gauze bows at the wrists… paired with this lace fan, I looked every bit the grieving widow.
Demon skin leaned toward cooler undertones, while divine beings glowed with warm, luminous hue. Anyone with a trained eye could tell the difference. I tugged the thick silver-gray fur shawl over my arms to hide as much exposed skin as I could, then took my first step forward in heels.
Women who always raged about “we wear heels, bleed every month, give birth—of course you men should serve us!”… I suddenly understood them.
With the shawl draped strategically to obscure my flat chest and highlight my waist instead, I bit down, grasped the fan, and mimicked those high-born demon women—walking slowly, gracefully, as if every cobblestone was a dagger.
The night was as dark as ink, lit in part by the blaze of fire. Flying ships overhead were dyed crimson by the flames, swaying in the wind, cutting through the air like ribbons in a river current.
After a few steps, someone came to greet me with a bow.
I daintily curled a finger and touched it to my lips with a cough, resisting the urge to bolt straight into the sky.
Life throws trials our way. We must learn to endure them. If the angels ever discovered that the mighty Archangel had dressed as a woman to infiltrate the Demon Realm, they’d be moved to tears…
The road to the Palace of Ten Thousand Demons was long. But once I finally arrived, I found myself unable to relax.
A long carpet of deep red split the path down the middle, leading toward imposing stone walls. At the gates stood nobles in formal dress, checking invitations. Each guest was searched with magic. I gripped the hilt of my holy sword at my waist and stepped forward, steadying myself.
The line moved slowly. People ahead and behind gave me more than just a glance.
There was something about me that stood out, but I couldn’t quite say what.
At the front, the earl bowed slightly and said, “May I see your invitation, miss, and ask you to disable any defensive spells?”
I tilted my chin just enough to reveal my face.
His eyes widened in shock. He quickly took my hand and kissed it, leaving me trembling all over.
“Why is Her Majesty using this entrance? Please, come in!”
I opened my fan and resumed my noblewoman act.
Past the gates, a vast square stretched out, dominated by seventy-two black columns. Each one bore a carved figure holding a weapon, vividly lifelike. I’d seen sketches of this place before but nothing prepared me for its grandeur.
At the far end stood a grand gate. This was undoubtedly the representation of the Seventy-Two Pillars of Solomon.
The main throne hall of the Satanic Palace was on the second floor; a perfect square, with four-sided pillars supporting domes overhead. Each dome bore murals in the Demon Realm’s signature style: decadent, elaborate, vividly colored, with a kind of rebellious splendor that defied classical conventions. As I stared at them, I was reminded of the days before Lucifer’s fall, when the architecture of the Academy of the Seventh bore traces of this very aesthetic. After so many of its angels fell with him, this Baroque artistry took root in the Demon Realm and blossomed into something distinctly, dazzlingly demonic…
In front of the hall stood a full-length mirror.
And in that mirror, I saw myself.
A black evening gown. A gem-studded tiara. A veil obscuring half my face. A lace fan held over my chest. Hair pinned high with loose strands cascading behind. The sharp lines of my face were fully exposed.
As I gazed at the figure staring back at me, I felt a strange dissonance. This was no longer Michael, Vice Regent of Heaven.
This was Isar, the one Lucifer had once known so intimately.
In the corner of the grand hall, intricately patterned iron spheres burned with caged flames.
I glanced at the mirror again—watching one person after another pass behind me—then finally realized what was wrong.
This was a masquerade ball… and I wasn’t wearing a mask.
I scanned the hall, searching for Mammon. No sign of him.
What now? Leave and return with a mask? But the ball was about to begin. Walking away might count as breaking the contract.
Calm down.
Lilith is the Queen, after all. As long as Lucifer isn’t here, she’s the highest authority. If I stay silent, not even Mammon can force me to speak.
The guards in the hall opened the towering windows, revealing a sky streaked with crimson and black. Bats flapped past outside, wings slicing through the dusk.
A breeze swept through. The lace of my dress fluttered; velvet trim trembled in the hush and murmur of the room.
It was only now that I truly felt the deepest difference between Heaven and the Demon Realm—not light versus dark, but faith versus freedom. In this decadent world, every subject lived freely. The demons revered strength; they admired Lucifer not because he demanded worship, but because he had brought them peace and prosperity. If someone could do better, they’d worship that person instead.
This was unlike the divine.
God is our hope, the embodiment of absolute belief. If we lose Him, even if someone else can govern Heaven, our people would drift, spiritually homeless.
When I was younger, I couldn’t understand why Lucifer had to fall. Now I think I do.
He was too brilliant. The position of Vice Regent could no longer contain his wings. But he could not replace God either—so he had to leave. To create a world that reflected himself.
And that world became this: the free, rich, flamboyant Demon Realm.
As for me, child of God, the Archangel, I know I will never become the next Lucifer.
I have no desire to seize the throne, no ambition and courage to tear everything down and start anew. Most importantly… I cannot leave Heaven.
That is my homeland. There are angels there who trust me. If one day I am lucky enough to die peacefully, I think I’d like to close my eyes in Jerusalem.
I stepped into the main hall. Dazzling chandeliers cast their brilliance far and wide. All the demons had retracted their wings and wore masks, of gold and silver, feathered, jeweled, furred, crested with eagle plumes…
The entire hall looked like something painted in the lavish strokes of a medieval oil painting.
Then, someone began clapping loudly.
“Everyone look this way! Our most beautiful Queen, vanished for two whole days, has finally returned!”
He wore a crimson mask with a peacock plume soaring from his forehead. But I knew that mocking voice—it was Samael.
The crowd turned to me as one. They bowed.
“Hail, Her Majesty Lilith!”
I quickly folded my fan and rested it across my waist, performing the demon court’s customary salute: four fingers together, hand raised in a poised arc.
One figure wore a mask split white and black, with inverted rings around each eye.
“Her Majesty looks especially beautiful tonight. And no strange fashion choices, what a cause for celebration! Ah, I get it. Trying to impress someone, aren’t we? Haven’t seen each other in two days… must be stuck like glue now.”
Azazel’s voice. No mistaking it.
Another, in a golden mask, added sternly, “You’ve made His Majesty Lucifer quite anxious. Please don’t disappear like that again.”
I couldn’t tell who he was.
Then someone in a silver-gray mask, with unmistakable golden eyes.
Sariel.
“Quick! Tell His Majesty—Her Majesty Lilith has returned!”
I panicked and waved my hand, trying to stop him yet still unable to speak a word.
Just as I was starting to panic, looking for Mammon, a voice came from behind:
“No need. I’ve already heard.”
My whole body went stiff. All calm, all composure, shattered into ash.
A pair of hands encircled my waist from behind. I looked down and saw black gloves at my abdomen. His fingers interlaced gently, a ruby ring, symbol of marriage, on his fourth finger. A silver chain glinted at his wrist… identical to mine.
Long arms, silver embroidery on the cuffs of his black sleeves.
The world went utterly silent.
Even the strength to be nervous was drained out of me.
He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “You’ve finally returned. I won’t blame you this time… but next time, this isn’t allowed. Understood?” His voice was still deep, still magnetic, but the gentleness was gone, replaced by the commanding tone of a king.
I stared blankly ahead and nodded stiffly.
Exquisite masks, elegant gowns, fluttered past me. Even the bats outside the window seemed to be singing.
He turned me around. I faced a platinum mask, adorned with a teardrop-shaped ice-blue gem at the center of the brow. Pearls and scattered diamonds twinkled around its edge. A fringe of white fur, long black-and-white feathers fanning out on one side.
Through the shimmer of that mask, I saw a pair of deep crimson eyes.
In this night of decadence, the man standing before me was no longer the Archangel he once was. He was the Ruler of the Demon Realm. His black hair spilled down his shoulders; even the color of his eyes had changed.
Yet the first image that rose in my mind… was still the him from back then.
No matter what he had become, once upon a time he had held me close, the tender lover who called me “baby” in a voice like honey.
There were so many things I wanted to say. A desperate urge to embrace him. But I could do nothing, say nothing, neither in this disguise, nor as the Archangel Michael.
I held my breath, and in my heart, silently whispered—
Lucifer. At last, we meet again.
His lips curved slightly, voice ghostlike and intoxicating: “No one’s been keeping me company at night these past few days. You’ll have to make it up to me.” Then he suddenly went quiet, locking eyes with me.
I looked up at him.
He was so close. His gaze steady, unchanged, as if time had never moved. As if I was still the person I used to be, and he was still… him.
His eyes sparkled under the lights like shattered stars.
He narrowed them and leaned in. “You look… different today.”
Samael cleared his throat. “Well, well, starting right in front of everyone? Should we cancel the ball?”
Azazel sneered, “Didn’t you see? His Majesty can’t hold back anymore. Cancel the ball!”
Sariel cried out excitedly, “Ahhh! Cancel the ball! He’s abandoning us for Her Majesty~~”
A voice from a golden mask added, “Your Majesty, this is most improper.”
Lucifer replied calmly, “Abaddon, those two cause chaos on a daily basis and you believe them?”
Azazel grinned. Samael and Sariel clung to each other, laughing wildly. Abaddon looked exasperated.
Lucifer glanced around. “Where’s Mammon?”
Everyone shook their heads.
“Probably still sulking at Pandemonium. Go fetch him.”
Abaddon nodded and left. Azazel asked, “So… the ball can start now?”
Lucifer nodded.
The lights suddenly dimmed. Flames shot skyward. Starlight poured in through the windows. Boats glided across the heavens, their oars sweeping rhythmically, like the pulse of a dream setting sail.
A graceful waltz began. The crowd gently parted.
Lucifer extended his hand to me.
I stared and placed mine in his palm.
It truly felt unchanged.
Just like that year, outside the little house in Shima City. He had stood below my window, smiling, and I had taken his hand, and flown with him.
Light and shadow danced in my vision. It all felt so much like a dream.
He held my hand aloft, his other arm around my waist.
Only then did I realize: I didn’t know how to dance.
I stumbled.
Lucifer chuckled, whispering, “I told you to learn. Now you’re embarrassed?”
All I could do was stare into his eyes, unwilling to even blink.
Outside, the fire-snow danced. The flickering glow lit his face, black hair rippling in the breeze. He guided me through the steps.
The scenery around us blurred with motion. Vibrant murals spun past, changing with every turn.
More and more people joined the dance.
But I could only see his eyes.
“Lilith, where did you go these past few days?” Lucifer asked lightly.
I shook my head.
“Not going to tell me?”
I shook my head again.
He leaned in close, his voice soft enough for only me to hear. “Then stay with me tonight, will you?”
My hand around his neck tightened. I did nothing else.
Lucifer chuckled, nibbling gently at my earlobe. “Not just the ball, you know?”
The spell broke.
A dream shattered by him whispering another woman’s name.
I inhaled sharply, closing my eyes. I didn’t want to hear more.
Lucifer held me closer, teasing fingers brushing my waist. “Not agreeing?”
I smiled faintly and shook my head.
He paused, then smiled too. “I’ll be gentle. I won’t hurt you again.”
I clenched my jaw, breathing deep.
These words… were for me. Not Lilith.
“Don’t frown. You don’t look good like that. If you don’t want to, just tell me,” he murmured, kissing my forehead.
He held me, our steps slowing.
The waltz surged on, quick and bright, a seductive rhythm in the dark. Nearby, gentlemen invited ladies to dance. The floor was alive with joyous, whirling nobles.
At last, we paused by the edge of the ballroom. The starry sky framed perfectly by the grand window.
He pulled me into his arms. His scent was no longer fully divine, faintly touched now by demonkind, but still unmistakably his.
Since his fall, I’d seen him… but not this close. And now, just breathing him in, his scent brought back the memory of nights he slept in my bed, of how I’d hug the blankets and smile like a fool after he left.
So many years had passed. Even seeing him was a luxury. To be held like this tonight was nearly unbearable.
I looked up at his profile. His familiar lips. Fire and snow mingled outside, red and white shimmering like blossoms on his mask.
Then, Lucifer gently pushed me back, brushing aside the black veil over my eye.
“You… look different tonight.”
I froze, heart pounding wildly.
Had he… seen through me?
Lucifer cupped my cheek with one hand. “What’s going on with you? Why are you looking at me like that?”
I pinched the inside of my palm and shook my head hard, forcing myself to smile.
His brow furrowed deeper. After a moment, he said, “If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll get angry.”
I felt wronged. I was using every ounce of strength just to smile at him.
He stared at me for a long time, and before I could react, he suddenly held my face in both hands and kissed me deeply. Pain stabbed through my heart. I clutched the front of his coat and tilted my head up to respond lightly. But the moment our tongues touched, Lucifer flinched ever so slightly, then kissed me, even more fierce and aggressive…
We only stopped when Mammon’s voice cut through.
He barged in, dragging a lady in tattered clothes and shouted, “Dad, I found Mom!”
The waltz music stopped. The hall fell into silence. Everyone looked from the lady—Lilith—over to me, stunned into speechlessness. Lilith was indeed wearing ragged clothing and covered in dirt. She scratched her messy hair and looked back at the crowd.
Everyone stared at her. She stared back.
And just as everyone was dumbfounded, Lilith suddenly beamed with a dazzling smile, her teeth bright and straight.
Samael rubbed his chin, feigning depth: “Mmm, now this is the real one.”
Azazel scoffed. “I told you all! I bet she wouldn’t show up to the ball all graceful and proper, and none of you believed me.”
I stepped back, and then another step.
Lilith stomped up to Azazel. “Who says a queen has to be proper? As long as she can manage the affairs of the Demon Realm, does she need to come off an assembly line?”
Azazel sneered, about to reply, but Lucifer cut in sharply, “Lilith, come here.”
She waved a fist at Azazel, shot him a glare, and then sprinted toward Lucifer. But just as she got close, she suddenly tripped and pitched forward. Lucifer reached out to catch her, and she barreled into him, nearly knocking him over. He steadied her. She leapt up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I went to the Valley of Draconic Wrath the last two days. Good thing I’m quick or I would’ve been dragon food… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you can hit me if you want.”
Lucifer patted her head. With the mask on, I couldn’t see his expression. “Are you hurt?”
Lilith shook her head. “No, just some scrapes and bruises. Umm… the reason I ran off the other night was because Mammon told me if I bailed just before things got intimate, you’d want me more.”
Mammon looked horrified. “Mom! You sold me out!!”
Lilith shot him a dirty look and made a ridiculously ugly face. “That’s what you get for giving me rotten advice.”
“Don’t mind us, everyone, carry on with the ball.” Lucifer turned her head. “Now answer me honestly. Do you think you were silly or not?”
Lilith blinked her pretty eyes. “Huh?”
Half the guests resumed dancing. The other half turned their attention to me. I glanced around, unsure what to do with my hands or feet.
Lucifer let out a long sigh. “Next time, don’t listen to that idiot boy, got it?”
Lilith nodded, then pecked his lips. “So weird. It’s only been two days, but I missed you so much. I don’t feel like dancing anymore. Let’s go home, okay?”
“Mhm.”
Right then, someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around to see Mammon, now dressed in a formal black suit with a cloak, pinned with a rose-shaped noble insignia. His wings were tucked in, and with just a hint of lingering seduction, he actually looked like a proper little prince of the Demon Realm.
Mammon looked at me for a moment, and the rose on his chest sparkled. “You look beautiful.”
I smiled lightly.
He glanced toward Lucifer and whispered, “You ran into my dad? No worries, wait here, I’ll explain it to him.” He ran off, spoke a few words with Lucifer. Lucifer nodded, spoke a few more words to Lilith, and then walked over with Mammon.
Mammon said smugly, “I told Dad we had a contract. He won’t make it public.”
Lucifer stood behind him. His demeanor had completely shifted. With the air of a sovereign, he extended his hand to me. “Welcome to the Demon Realm, Lord Michael.”
I reached out and shook his hand, nearly bolting from the pressure.
“I mistook you for my wife just now. That was inappropriate.”
“It’s nothing,” I smiled. “Mammon the little prince is charming and lively. Her Majesty Lilith is natural and straightforward. Your Majesty’s household is truly as happy as the legends say. Most enviable.”
Mammon side-eyed. “Call me ‘little prince Mammon’ again and see what happens.”
“Mammon, don’t be rude.” Lucifer rebuked him, but his gaze on me held no apology. “Since you signed a contract with my son this time, you should visit Rhodheoga when you have the chance. That’s the true heart of the Demon Realm.”
“This time”—a clear signal there would be no next. The meaning couldn’t be more obvious. I folded my fan, met his gaze, and answered with composure, “Understood. Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Mammon, stay with Lord Michael.”
“Got it, Dad.”
“Your Majesty.” I gave him a small nod.
“Farewell.” Lucifer’s lips curled faintly as he turned and strode away.
Once he’d left, I turned to Mammon. “It’s only a matter of time before people figure out who I am. There’s no point in staying longer. I’m going back to Heaven.”
Mammon sighed. “Alright, I won’t force you. I’ll go back with you to change clothes.”
As soon as we stepped out, I quickened my pace.
I wanted to see him one more time—just his back. But even as we reached the great doors, he was nowhere to be found. I exhaled softly into the air, watching the mist swirl.
Suddenly, I wanted to see the Snowmoon Forest, to know just how beautiful it really was. It’s said to be one of the most praised places in the Demon Realm, and once, a poet described it as a world so gentle it resembled the eyes of a fated lover.
Because I was honestly beginning to forget what my fated lover once looked like.
Mammon peeked over, poked my cheek. “Hey, don’t cry now. I didn’t mean to bully you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Child, you really say the most…Why would I cry?”
Mammon scowled. “Stop calling me the way my dad does.”
The street was bustling with passersby, sparkling snow, and brilliant fireworks.
Crying. It felt like such a foreign concept now. It had been years since I last shed a tear. Though every time I thought of Lucifer, it hurt like a blade through the heart, the tears just wouldn’t come. Like a blade, the pain remained, but I’d learned to endure it.
Lucifer, you’ll probably never know.
My heart, like my body battle-worn from countless fights, is utterly exhausted and scarred. But every time I say your name, I still feel like that naïve angel—the one who kissed you under falling white rose petals after the rain.
Because every time I say your name, I feel that I’ve become brave.
Very, very brave.
Author: Tav Tav
Translating
The Right Wing of God, the one seated at the right hand of the Most High.
