Mammon was still a bit surprised that Michael would treat Lucifer this way, since these two successive Archangels were, more than father and son, like a commander and deputy commander. The angels of Heaven had never known where their perfect, excellent Archangel Lucifel had picked up a little angel so out of place among the other angels.
However, rather than a little angel, Michael was more accurately someone not yet grown, only that compared with Lucifel that age had been judged as belonging to the “little” generation. But in any case the other’s appearance was already about that of an adult angel, so there was no way Mammon and the others, still angels then, could call Michael a “little angel.”
As everyone knew, although Michael and Lucifer were adoptive father and son, their relationship was not close. Even living in the same palace had never changed this.
On this very question, Mammon had once asked Lucifel what the reason was.
The golden-haired Archangel of those days only smiled, put down the book in his hand, and answered: “He is too much like me, which makes me want to keep away from him whenever I see him.”
Mammon: “…”
If the one in front of him hadn’t been his superior, he would have had to say “are you sick?”
Unfortunately, he couldn’t.
If it was to the point of wanting to keep away, why pick him up? And raise him at his side besides?
Now, Mammon understood a little.
Only those who had fallen to the dark side themselves could understand Lucifer’s suffering.
It wasn’t that he truly hated an angel, but that getting close would hurt himself.
Michael was a seraph, and moreover light; just being at his side would make one feel ashamed of oneself. Although he had now reined in his original power, Mammon did not doubt in the slightest, that if this present God of the Abyss wanted, he could regain all the power from his time as Archangel.
For a fallen angel to purify power is very difficult.
The so-called fall is dropping from the cloud-piercing Heaven into this pitch-black world of darkness, and during the fall one is already infected by darkness and dyed completely black. Lucifer could turn his power back because God had used the sacred pool of the temple to purify him, and even so the process was certainly not easy.
As for Michael… Mammon thought it might be due to his identity. He had come from the Chaotic Abyss in the first place, so what was a mere Hell’s darkness to him?
In Heaven, some gossip about this one hadn’t been completely made up. After all, even they, the angels, could just by watching Michael and Lucifer’s daily life imagine one drama after another of unrequited love.
Mammon was still very curious to this day what these two were thinking.
But facing Michael now, he truly had no courage to ask; he was really worried the other would get embarrassed and angry and cut him down with a sword.
While he was lost in thought, the God of the Abyss, who had been watching the progress on each level, suddenly spoke: “He’s broken out of the illusion.”
Mammon was stunned.
Who? Who had come out of the illusion?
He blinked, came back to himself, looked at the sphere of the Seventh Level, and found that apart from Gabriel’s area, the place where Lucifer had been now had only a grinning Abaddon left.
On the screen, the cruel demon touched the corner of his mouth and showed a hideous smile: “As expected of the Archangel, still repays every grudge.”
Mammon: Daring to play dirty on Lucifer, he deserved the beating.
From Lucifer’s point of view, it was Abaddon’s sneak attack, otherwise there was no way to be trapped without noticing.
The bracelet on Michael’s wrist trembled, then shattered.
Mammon: “What happened?”
Peeling off the fragments that had pierced his wrist when it cracked, Michael’s expression did not change much, and he said in an indifferent tone: “Nothing. Lucifer passed through the Seventh Level’s corridor and destroyed the surveillance item, that’s all.”
Michael liked tinkering with odd things; very few angels knew this, and Mammon was one of those who didn’t.
Michael reminded Mammon: “It’s your turn.”
Mammon was about to ask “what about you?” when he was thrown back in front of Lucifer.
Golden hair hanging to his shoulders, Lucifer smiled slightly: “We meet again, Mammon. Last time was really a pity.”
He had been just a little short of successfully falling!
Mammon thought it wasn’t a pity at all.
He coughed lightly: “Welcome to the Eighth Level space.”
Lucifer raised his hand.
The sword he held pointed at the demon in front of him.
His expression was cold, showing no warmth at all, and even his golden hair seemed to have dimmed a lot.
“Mammon, I won’t fight you. Call Michael here.”
Mammon: “Huh?”
Startled by Lucifer’s move, Mammon didn’t know how to complain for a moment and could only mutter: “Even if you’re the Archangel, coming to the Abyss you should follow our rules, shouldn’t you?”
Lucifer smiled without smiling: “How about telling that to Michael? When he went to Heaven before, did he follow Heaven’s rules?”
Just counting up what Michael had done was enough to make one laugh.
Leading his chosen subordinates to attack Heaven.
Making demons and fallen angels decoys while he himself went deep into Heaven.
Once again hindering his fall.
These three alone were enough to make Lucifer hate Michael.
And to think he had earlier felt that Michael should be free and so didn’t mind the fall quota being taken. Who would have thought Michael had no intention of properly being Hell’s Demon King.
Or rather—God of the Abyss.
But what had made Lucifer so thoroughly break down was the illusion on the Seventh Level.
Angels live very, very long, and as long as there are no special circumstances, not even death occurs. And this leads them to forget easily; what they’ve learned, if not consolidated every day, will after a century or two seem as if never learned. It’s the same in dealing with other angels: if you haven’t seen someone for a while, it’s easy to put a filter on them.
Lucifer and Michael’s meeting could be called an ill-starred affinity.
Speaking of it, Lucifer to this day had never worked out why, with twin angels so well matched, he had been separated from Michael. Twin angels should be each other’s other half, with the best relationship and the deepest understanding of each other. But look at him and Michael. Never mind understanding each other, not quarreling over some work matter was already very good.
Back when Michael wasn’t yet his adopted son, he already used all sorts of cheating and swindling tricks, and if you weren’t careful he could even stake his own future.
For example, Lucifer had once valued Michael’s ability and planned to recruit him as a subordinate, and had an angel at his side send him an invitation.
Normally, anyone who received an invitation from the Archangel, even if they didn’t agree, would refuse in person, right? Michael didn’t.
“My attitude toward Lucifel? Isn’t he someone who has nothing to do with me?”
Listen to that; whoever the person concerned was would be angry hearing such words, wouldn’t they?
And Lucifel? He wasn’t that angry, only felt this was a truly individualistic angel.
Then he witnessed Michael copying the invitation he had given and selling it to different angels.
Lucifer: “…”
Going through it once himself wasn’t enough, and he had to watch this person do the sly trick again with his own eyes? And in an illusion at that?
No, rather than this, how did Abaddon know these things? Did Michael still remember what happened back then? How could his memory be so good!
In any case, for such reasons, Michael and Lucifer’s first meeting had not been very pleasant.
Later, when Michael learned the real reason Lucifer had adopted him, he neither cried nor made a fuss nor ran away from home, only raised an eyebrow lightly and paid it no mind.
Mammon thought that Lucifer didn’t dare get too close to Michael because he feared being scorched by the light.
In fact, Lucifer himself didn’t think so.
From the start, his motive for picking up an angel hadn’t been pure.
Or rather, the Angel-of-Light trait of Michael’s that Heaven had always questioned was also something he himself had announced.
When he first saw Michael, the other seemed covered in light, and even in places the light didn’t reach, he seemed to glow himself.
Seeing this scene was the fundamental reason that prompted him to bring him back to the palace.
Lucifel admired God, as every angel knew.
Except Michael.
Originally, Lucifel had just stuffed Michael into the palace, not letting him go to school or appear before other angels’ eyes, keeping him in the palace just like a mascot. Michael had been well-behaved enough, and apart from liking to apply what he learned and turning the palace upside down, he had never thought of leaving it.
But since he was of the light attribute, he naturally couldn’t be hidden; Lucifer hadn’t considered that like sources attract each other. God Himself wasn’t light, but as a god infinitely close to light, He could naturally sense Michael’s existence.
On the surface, His feelings toward Michael weren’t hard to guess, since this angel was very much like Lucifel when he was young, but most of the time this God only guided Michael’s studies, not being as intimate as He was with Lucifel.
As time went on, Michael learned more and more.
Good things and bad, he didn’t leave a single one out.
For example, barriers.
For example, an arrogance just like Lucifel’s, only expressed a little differently, but essentially also a proud high-rank angel.
Having watched Michael’s growing up once more in the illusion, Lucifer was in a very bad mood now, and badly wanted to drag the angel he had raised and warped over here and beat him up.
That his twin angel was his adopted son was not funny at all.
And the funniest part was that it was God who had torn them apart.
Lucifer’s patience was gone, and he said to Mammon: “You want me to follow your rules, so you won’t complain if I beat you flat, right?”
Mammon: ?
So, why was it always him who got hurt?
Author’s note:
Shall I try updating daily? 【scratches head】