Mammon disappeared for a week. Lucifer refused all visitors for a week. Whether it was connected to the thoughts in my heart or not, my stomach would occasionally throb in pain—more and more frequently as the days passed. During my spare time, I wandered around Rhodheoga, taking note of everything I’d seen and heard in the Demon Realm. I knew it would come in handy when I returned.
One week later, Mammon still hadn’t returned, but Lucifer reappeared.
He still wore his gloves, and no matter how I pressed him about his hands, he wouldn’t answer.
He brought me to the bedchambers in Kade Palace and told me to sit for now.
“Lucifer, how do you know the secret of the Arterra bloodline?”
“You lost three crystals. Would you like to remember what was in the third?”
I froze. “You know what happened during that time? You have it?”
“I do,” he said, taking out a box as dark as ink, “but you sealed it. I can’t access the memory inside.”
“Then why are you only giving it to me now?”
Lucifer opened the box. A faint blue light illuminated his face. “If I let you live inside memory, you’ll temporarily forget the present… and you won’t feel the pain that’s about to come. That way, you won’t have to endure the next few months.”
He gently lifted the lid, the blue glow flooding the room. “To be honest… I’ve always been selfish. I only allowed my light to exist in your eyes. Giving this back to you… it means…”
He suddenly lowered his head, blinking. But he didn’t look up again. “It means you’ll leave me.”
I couldn’t bear to look at his face anymore. I turned to stare out the window. The snow had stopped. The imperial capital was quiet for once.
“Lie down. During this period… I’ll arrange for someone to take care of you.”
I sat on the bed. “Tell me. What happened to your hand?”
Lucifer sat beside me. “It’s nothing serious. Once you remember, you’ll understand.”
I hugged him with all the strength I had. He embraced me in return, his voice breaking:
“When you wake up… it will probably be time for you to return to Heaven…”
He paused.
“So… I hope I get to be the one to see you off.”
He didn’t give me a chance to speak.
Light overflowed and filled my vision.
And then—everything returned to silence.
Sticky. Wet. Slippery. Soft… Something flowed down my cheek. Instinctively, I rubbed at my face and tried to shove aside the soft squishy thing beside me.
But soon enough, the sticky, wet, slippery, soft thing came back, pressing against me so much that I let out a muffled sound.
“Goo goo… goo goo…”
Googoo?
I slowly opened my eyes— And was met with an enormous pair of round blue eyes, twice the normal size. Beneath the eyes was a tiny sharp nose. Below that… was the source of the grossness.
It was a baby.
No mistake. The thing wrapped around me was a baby.
He had soft, fluffy red hair, and eyes so huge it seemed like his whole face was just made of them.
I sat up, wiped the wet drool off my face, and shoved the little farthead off of me.
The child had four little snowy white wings sprouting from his back and wore split-crotch pants. He braced his tiny hands against the clouds around us, crawling left, crawling right, spinning and spinning until I got dizzy.
Where… is this?
The baby found a pacifier among the clouds, popped it into his mouth, gave it a few chews: “Goo goo.”
A voice called from below: “His Highness Michael is awake!”
Michael. I shook my head and straightened my spine.
How much could I remember? My name is Michael. I am the Supreme Commander of Heaven’s legions, Leader of the Archangels, the honored son of the Arterra family. I hold many titles. I once eradicated Heaven’s greatest threat, which led to my ascension as the Vice Regent of the Kingdom of God.
The little baby’s wings folded, unfolded, folded again… then finally shook midair like a puppy drying off after a bath.
And also, also…
My current residence is the Hall of Splendor, the right wing of the Seraphic Palace. I had a friend with a vague relationship status named Metatron—though I didn’t like him, I’d somehow had a child with him, named Hanniah.
Hanniah was extraordinarily beautiful, with just one flaw: he drooled… a lot.
I slowly, slowly turned my head to look at the child beside me, trembling.
This… this is my child?
I already have a son?
But… why did something about this feel completely wrong?
I wiped away another round of drool Hanniah had just slathered on me and grabbed him by the collar, shouting down below, “Take him to his Heavenly Father!”
A four-winged angel flew up halfway. “Your Highness Michael, the morning assembly is still in progress. His Highness Metatron likely isn’t home.”
“Assembly?—Heavens, I missed the assembly?!”
“No need to worry. His Highness Metatron has already taken leave on your behalf.”
I finally relaxed. I handed Hanniah over to the four-winged angel. “Take the child away.”
The angel carefully cradled Hanniah and departed.
Several others brought me my robes.
I changed, descended from the cloud bed, and began my morning routine, all the while trying hard to recall the past.
Why could I remember the things that had happened, even the names of the other archangels, but not what they looked like? Even Metatron…
Once I’d finished dressing, I flew to the great mirror inlaid with golden phoenix trim to check my reflection.
Look at that glorious red hair. Look at those ocean-deep blue eyes. Look at that snow-peak nose bridge…
Ah… no wonder I’m considered the most handsome man in Heaven. Let me bask in it just a moment longer.
I walked to the window, took a deep breath of fresh air, and leaned on the high windowsill to gaze out.
Golden Gothic spires filled the view: Sancta Faylia, the imperial capital of Heaven, spread magnificently before me.
But the moment I glimpsed a building in the distance, one cast in gold streaked with deep crimson, I instinctively took a step back.
Didn’t see it. Didn’t hear it. All an illusion.
Just then, a voice came from outside the door:
“Your Highness Michael, Iophiel requests an audience.”
I replied and turned to wait.
Soon enough, the blue-winged angel entered and bowed respectfully.
“His Highness Metatron has already heard the news. He says that since you’re willing to let go of the past, he’s generously offering you a second chance.”
“Let go of the past? A second chance?”
Iophiel looked briefly startled. “Your Highness… you didn’t forget even the crystal incident?”
“Crystal?”
Iophiel rubbed his forehead and said softly, “Just as His Highness Metatron expected…”
“Huh?”
“No, nothing. It’s just—Your Highness once had a past you didn’t wish to remember. After being with His Highness Metatron and having His Little Highness Hanniah, you decided to begin life anew. You then chose to selectively abandon certain memories… Does that make sense, Your Highness?”
Not at all, honestly.
But to save face, I nodded.
“Oh, and—His Highness Metatron asked me to deliver this letter to you.”
“A letter? Don’t tell me it’s a love letter?”
Iophiel smiled ambiguously. “Might be.”
I held out my hand. He placed it in my palm.
I opened and read it twice.
It was a love letter—short and sweet:
Dear Little Michael:
You and I are like doves of peace—soaring wing to wing, causing a ruckus in Heaven, a ruckus in Heaven!
Metatron
I handed the “love letter” back to Iophiel.
“Thank him for me. Anything else?”
“What’s wrong? Doesn’t Your Highness like it?”
“I like it, I like it.”
“Honestly, since Your Highness has already done that sort of thing, you should really get along with His Highness Metatron…”
I nodded. What else could I do?
This really was asking too much. I had no idea what sort of traumatic past I’d experienced that made me choose to erase my memories, but I truly had no desire to be romantically involved with him.
Metatron was wildly popular in Heaven. His social charisma could be summed up in one phrase: off the charts. His prestige was unrivaled; even the highest-ranking angels treated him with reverence. The most luxurious inns considered hosting him for free the greatest of honors. Wherever he strolled in the six major cities of the seven Heavens, the local nobility would line up far outside the city gates to welcome him.
As such, his lifestyle was… extravagant. He regularly threw lavish, money-burning parties and banquets.
And then there was his notorious playboy nature. He even had the nerve to defend himself by saying that he wasn’t promiscuous, that he was faithful. Just… to a group.
That this kind of man could say something like “graciously offering you a second chance”—where did he even get that level of unearned confidence?
I paced around the Hall of Splendor for a while, then finally decided I had to go make my position clear to him.
Exiting the palace, I flew a long, long way until I reached the foot of the Sanctum’s steps. Behind me, silvery white waterfalls cascaded down, their murmurs drowning out almost all sound.
After a bit of waiting, the morning assembly ended. Angels began to descend the steps.
When they saw me, they all came forward to greet me.
In truth, during peaceful times in Heaven, battle angels were pretty looked down upon, especially those like me, an all-offense type who could only heal minor wounds. To the divine race, clashing weapons with enemies was seen as crude. They preferred a more dignified, aloof approach; blasting a crowd with a single thunderclap suited their elegant sensibilities far more.
Still, I was an exception—because I was the Vice Regent of Heaven.
A Throne unfolded his massive, soft wings and flew past the columns. Only then did the real figures appear.
Since the last great restructuring, the Seven Archangels had changed. They were now:
Myself, Metatron, Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel, Randekiel, and Yanar.
Gabriel and Uriel had even joined the Zodiac Twelve, presiding over Aquarius and Libra, respectively.
At this moment, six angels descended together, their presence overwhelming all others.
The familiar faces in the middle turned toward me in unison.
Right in the center, the beaming archangel’s gaze met mine.
The moment I saw Metatron’s latest pair of fancy glasses, I silently wept for Heaven’s treasury once again.
Gabriel smiled. “Your Highness Michael!”
Raphael smiled. “Your Highness Michael.”
Uriel, deadpan: “Your Highness Michael.”
Randekiel crossed his hands at his chest. “Your Highness Michael.”
Yanar said softly, “Your Highness Michael.”
Metatron winked flirtatiously: “Little Michael.”
I ignored the last one, fought the urge to pop a vein, and returned their greetings with a smile.
They came to stand by my side. The crowd of angels behind them immediately shifted their gazes our way.
Uriel, in a solemn tone, said,
“There’ve been quite a few troublesome affairs lately. We hope Your Highness will attend assemblies more regularly.”
“I’ve only missed this one, thanks.”
Raphael said, “Uriel is just anxious—please don’t mind him.”
“What’s the matter?”
Raphael replied, “Do you still remember Solomon?”
“You mean the one in front of the Hall of Ten Thousand Demons?”
“Yes. Word has it Lucifer has established seventy-two demon pillars there. He used a magic ring to brand the necks of demons, forcing them to serve him. These demons are said to be the seventy-two most powerful nobles, second only to the Seven Lords of Hell.”
“The Seventy-Two Pillars of Solomon are already filled?”
“Sixty-three have been filled so far. The names change with each year’s Day of the Fall tournament results. Just last week, Lucifer added Mammon’s name.”
“Impossible—Mammon’s only two heads taller than Hanniah!”
“But his power now rivals Samael’s.”
“Samael? That’s absurd!”
“We all suspect the kid’s been fed something strange by his father. He can already wield the Scythe of Destruction at his age. Who knows what he’ll become once he’s grown.”
Yanar muttered, “Ugh, archdevils… I hate archdevils.”
Metatron, who hadn’t said a word until now, suddenly chuckled. “Stop worrying so much. No matter what anyone says, war is inevitable. When it does come, all seven of us will go together. I refuse to believe we’d lose.”
“Don’t spout nonsense. If all seven of us fight, who’ll guard the throne?”
Uriel said, “That’s part of the ancient protocol that can’t be changed. Still, the Demon Realm’s development is concerning. It’s only been a few years, and Lucifer’s already brought Rhodheoga under his control.”
Yanar added, “Their political structure is becoming more and more refined. And Lucifer is deeply beloved there… it’s troublesome.”
Uriel snorted, “Winning popularity with just his looks, what’s there to be proud of?”
Gabriel shot him a look. “Being good-looking equals relying on looks? You’re not bad-looking either—why don’t you try it?”
Uriel snapped, “You—”
Metatron cut in, “Let’s not put it that way. Lucifer’s strength is undeniable. But we don’t need to worry too much. New powers rise fast, but the higher the tier, the slower the growth. You get me, dear archangels?”
I nodded. “There really isn’t much to worry about. Surpassing the divine race isn’t something done lightly. We not only have immense power, but also God’s blessing. There’s nothing to fear. But I do have a question… how exactly did Lucifer fall?”
They all turned to look at me, exchanged glances after a pause, then sighed in unison: “Ah…”
Metatron was the first to react. “Little Michael, that’s not how you play the game, you know—you’ve even lost things you shouldn’t have forgotten.”
“Instead of giving me that crap, how about just telling me the truth?”
“Truly worthy of the new Archangel of Fire—your words are scorching. Got yourself burned yet? Come here, let me sniff you.”
He reached to hug me, and I smacked his hand away. “Insolent!”
I really didn’t like him. Not at all.
Metatron didn’t mind. He smiled at everyone. “That’s just how little Michael courts me. So unique. But I like it.”
“Metatron, I came here today to make one thing clear: I’ll live my life, you live yours. We have nothing to do with each other. As for Hanniah, you’d best raise him.”
Metatron blocked my path, stepping in close. “No no, since I gave birth to Hanniah, you should raise him.”
“Fine. I’ll raise him. But we have no ties.”
“Little Michael, you’ve clearly been abstinent for too long—you’re combusting from the inside.”
Gabriel said, “Metatron, could you be any more disgusting?”
Raphael smiled, “You should see the look on Lord Michael’s face.”
Metatron adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and said to me with a straight face, “Alright, no more jokes. Aside from wanting to cut ties with me, does His Highness Michael have anything else to declare?”
I shook my head.
Metatron looked at me. They all looked at me.
He shrugged. “And?”
“That’s it.”
Another stretch of silence.
Metatron gestured behind me at the Hall of Splendor. “So, does His Highness require a flower knight escort? Be my guest.”
“No need. I’ll walk myself.”
I wandered around the Hall of Splendor for a bit, changed Hanniah into a new outfit, pinched him a few times, then dangled him upside down and gave him a little shake. The nearby angels kept commenting on how close we were as father and son. After I was done playing with him and saw it wasn’t too late, I flew to the Tower of Luminescence in Shima to dig through the archives—only to discover that most of the valuable documents had gone blank. I thought it was some paranormal event and rushed to ask around, only to find out that Lucifer had taken them all when he fell from Heaven. Even the Academy of the Seventh had far fewer students; walking its halls felt desolate.
Left with no other option, I headed to Jerusalem to buy books.
Other places might lack bustle, but Sancta Faylia would never lack for prosperity. Other cities might quiet down, but Jerusalem was always lively. No matter the hour, crowds came and went. Any random bookstore had people standing around reading for free.
I picked the largest bookstore and had just gone upstairs to look for literature on the Demon Realm when I saw a tall figure that had a great body but an incredibly irritating personality.
A six-wing.
I turned right around to leave.
“Lord Michael, what a coincidence,” said Metatron. And of course, Iophiel was with him.
Bracing myself, I walked over. All eyes were on us.
Metatron smiled at me, his eyes sparkling like the North Star. “Looking for Demon Realm materials too, Your Highness?”
I nodded weakly.
“Now that all it takes is a certificate from a Satan to enter, I thought I’d visit sometime.”
I grabbed a book at random. “The terrain’s not exactly ideal. Development must be difficult there.”
“No,” he said, tucking the book under his arm and forming a triangle with his hands. “The Demon Realm is shaped like this—the deeper it goes, the more expansive it becomes.” He tapped the center of his palm. “The capital sits at the bottom, with oceans above. That makes it ideal for both expansion and defense.” Then he made a gourd shape with his hands. “Heaven is more like this. Our capital is also the largest region, but the uneven paths are a pain for any being with legs. For us angels, it just means longer detours when flying. Plus, our Fifth and First Heavens are practically wastelands. Meanwhile, Lucifer has managed to develop every level of the Demon Realm. He’s even overcome their greatest flaw. If things keep going like this, we may not have the upper hand for long.”
“Their greatest flaw? You mean the diversity of demon species?”
Metatron clapped his hands. “Ah! I nearly forgot that one. Yes, demons are a chaotic bunch; too many species and too much interbreeding. It leads to internal conflict.”
“I thought they were big on equal rights.”
“Equal rights? You think those just happen because someone says the words? As long as there’s a monarch, equality is a fantasy. And the Demon Realm’s only been developing for a short while. If they really achieve equality, I’ll cut off my wings myself.”
“At least they know to pursue it.”
“Oh, little Michael. You’re too naïve. The most important thing is securing your own status. That’s the only truth. Understand?”
“That’s your truth. Don’t project it onto me.”
“You’ll understand someday.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss my forehead.
I finally landed a solid punch to his stomach.
He doubled over, clutching a bookshelf.
“Hurt, didn’t it?”
“It did.”
“Good.”
“Pain… with a touch of pleasure.”
Lucifer’s fall from Heaven, what a monumental event. Everyone had an opinion, all sounding perfectly plausible. Of course, some of them were so embarrassing they made even the bystanders wince. Who knew how the proud Demonic Sovereign himself would react if he heard them? Ever since his fall, Heaven’s bookshelves had been flooded with titles about him, some distorted, some fair. It had become a trend. Without the courage to live under public scrutiny, no one could’ve done anything of note.
I bought a book titled The Demon Realm and Its Woes, which detailed Lucifer’s fall and his rise as the Demon King. The author: Sandalphon, again. That guy loved gossip—he’d once dug up every salacious story about Metatron—but when he got serious, he could write a proper historical account.
Curious about Lucifer’s reasons for rebelling, I flipped through the book while paying, and the contents hit me like a lightning bolt. I paid hastily and read the whole way home, still dazed when I landed back at the Hall of Splendor.
I sat at the moon-white long table, dropped the bronze-bound book onto the surface, and buried my head in the pages. Only after finishing a whole cup of tea did I finally finish the account of Lucifer’s fall. Yes, this one was a rare official-style work from Sandalphon, entirely impersonal in tone. And yet, even this flat, orderly narrative made one thing painfully clear:
I was absolute scum.
To begin with, before reclaiming my Arterra heritage, my name was Isar. I had once been Metatron’s lover. After that, I was promoted to a blue four-winged angel, demoted, promoted again, demoted again… and again… until finally, still demoted.
At some point in that mess, I got involved with Lucifer. The book described our relationship as “so intimate that they shared quarters for dozens of consecutive nights, never once leaving the chamber.” Then came another promotion. And when Lucifer rebelled… I stabbed him. That was how I earned my final, highest ascension.
No wonder the other archangels all dodged the question when I asked about it.
No wonder I had chosen to throw away my memories. After doing something so unethical, how could I sleep at night?
Even written this neutrally, Sandalphon’s version was hard to stomach. I couldn’t imagine how bad the other versions must be.
Just then, someone pulled up a chair and sat down beside me.
“I’m not hungry,” I said offhandedly.
“I am,” the person replied.
“And what’s that got to do with me?”
“That’s why I’m asking to eat you.”
I paused, then looked up.
Metatron was resting his chin on his palm, seated with maddening ease.
“You’re so direct.”
“To be praised by His Highness Michael is my life’s greatest honor.”
I went back to reading. “What do you want?”
“To see if you’d like some company in bed tonight.”
I could practically hear the vein bulge on my forehead. “No. Get out.”
“What book are you reading?”
“One on the Demon Realm. About Lucifer… He had a strong sense of self.”
“Mhm.”
The book quoted Lucifer: Do not be afraid of your unique thoughts. Every common truth we know today was once someone’s strange idea.
“He liked change. A workaholic. His biggest flaw was probably being too confident—hence the failed rebellion.”
“His rebellion wasn’t as simple as the books make it sound. At the time, it was rebel or die.”
“Why?”
“God doesn’t need reformers.”
I tensed a little. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Metatron pondered for a moment, then smiled. “You’re too uptight. It’s simple: the divine race will never be surpassed by any other species, because we have God. He is the Lord of all.”
“My father gave birth to me. Doesn’t mean he’s stronger than I am.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
He actually looked like he was convinced. I paused, then said, “Metatron, do you think I’m someone who chases after fame and power?”
“No.”
“Then why did I raise a hand against Lucifer?”
“Given the choice between exiling him or killing him, you could only have chosen the former.”
“Sounds noble. But we were lovers, weren’t we? Why didn’t I leave with him?”
“Because the Blood of Loyalty run in House Arterra. If you betrayed God, your end would’ve been terrible. And divine punishment isn’t the same for everyone—Seraphim like you get the full deal. No exceptions.”
“That doesn’t matter. I was never going to betray God.”
“Little Michael, don’t go following Lucifer down his crazy road. He was ambitious, maybe too much. Just remember: ambition and power are the deadliest weapons in the world. A quiet life is the real happiness.”
I nearly laughed. “Ambitious? That’s how you’re putting it? Just call it what it is. He was power-hungry. And so are you, but you spend it hunting lovers instead.”
Metatron grinned shamelessly. “They’re the ones hunting me.”
“Whatever. Everyone’s got their way of living. You’re both too extreme. I’ll stay in the middle.”
“I have an entry pass to the Demon Realm arranged. I might head there in a couple days.”
“Get one for me too. I want to go.”
“Alright. One last thing.”
“What is it?”
“It’s been a long time since I touched you.”
“You may leave now.”
Author: Tav Tav
Translating
The Right Wing of God, the one seated at the right hand of the Most High.
