“Well, that’s…the Colossal Serpent.”
The sky above the sky.
Ziffnel, who was looking down at the underworld from the heavenly temple—referred to as the space of the heavenly world—clutched the back of her stiff neck and fought off sleep as she observed the Colossal Serpent that had appeared and swallowed the entire northwestern outskirts of Aran.
“What? The Colossal Serpent? Did that d*mned snake finally reveal its true colors?” Someone asked as she ran toward her, uttering words unbecoming of an angel.
The angel had the same brilliant blonde hair as Julius. It was Tapnel, the so-called angel of faith.
“…Sister, what are you doing, and why have you shown up in this manner?” Ziffnel inquired.
“I was on my way to ask our father for an order to march,” Tapnel put her hand on her chest with a firm look and spoke in a sonorous voice.
The angel of mercy shook her head with a pitiful expression and pointed behind her.
“The Altar of Advent looks like that. Can you even go down even if you had permission from our father?” she asked.
When Tapnel turned her head and looked, she saw a gray-haired angel performing gorgeous dance moves. No—upon closer inspection, she realized that the angel was holding broken pieces in her hands and assembling them.
“Krail! My love is in danger; I needed to fix this quickly!” The gray haired angel, Raynell, eagerly held up a piece of the jar and called out the name of her believer.
“You stupid b*tch! It means that Aran is in crisis at the moment, not Krail!” Tapnel retorted with fury.
Ziffnel, who closed her eyes as usual at the sight she wished to ignore, began to use her powers again and looked down at the mortal world.
“So, what was happening on earth?” Tapnel asked.
“Lionelta wanted to save Erman and seduced your representative, Julius, but had been caught by the ‘Emperor’s Nightmare’, Nirhil, and that was why all this trouble is unfolding,” Ziffnel explained.
“…I never would have thought that Lionelta felt love for my representative…Is this some kind of romantic drama?” Tapnel was drenched in cold sweat and muttered.
Ziffnel, embarrassed by her older sister’s wild imaginations chose to remain silent.
“So, why did that Colossal Serpent appear? I heard it had taken on a human body,” Tapnel queried.
“It’s not by choice. She is being controlled by the dream created by Nirhil. Nightmare had been very determined and did this,” came the explanation.
“…Julius, that child might be in danger. After all, I have to go down,” Tapnel noted.
Watching Tapnel nod seriously, the Angel of Charity could no longer stand it and eventually answered, “Sister, honestly, Julius, that kid is stronger than you. When the time comes, who will save who? I think it’s a little funny.”
Tapnel became dumbfounded by the bitter truth her younger sister had spoken, and shouted, “Raynell! Hurry up and fix the Altar of Advent; I have to go down myself,”
“…? Not me, but my sister? Why? No! I am the one going down!” was the reply.
“Use your brain for once! If you went down, it wouldn’t solve the situation; it would create another one! Stop talking nonsense and fix it quickly!” Ziffnel declared, clearly angry to the core due to stress.
The Angel of Punishment, with tears streaming down her face, glanced at her older sister for a moment, and resumed assembling the altar.
“Ha…how could something like this happen? Anyway, the biggest problem in the human world is love.”
“No, an angel of love shouldn’t have said something like that.” As she looked at Zifnell, who was staring down at her lower world with her brows furrowed as if she were dying of annoyance, Tapnel could only mutter softly with a dumbfounded expression.
It was what had happened the day before the advent of Zifnell, the angel of charity and love.
***
It was pitch‐black darkness.
There was no other way to express it, it was a strange and grotesque space that could only be described as pitch‐black.
In the middle of a barren land where not a single blade of grass grew, a cabin that looked quite familiar stood alone. It seemed like someone was living there, as black smoke rose from the chimney on the roof and signs of presence could be felt through the cracks in the door.
Passing through the door of the small black cabin, it snooped around the empty living room and took a peek through the visible door.
It was a small room.
It was a room with a dreary atmosphere. and the window through which one could view the beautiful scenery was blocked by something wriggling in the dark.
What made this chilly space even colder was the small fireplace placed in the corner.
One could see the flames burning the firewood brilliantly, but instead of warmth, only a cold wind blew there.
The nameless black bird, a servant of Nightmare, turned its head toward its master, feeling instinctive fear at the sight that met its eyes.
What caught the eye of the insignificant creature was a man sitting on a bed and a slender woman. The slender woman smiled brightly as she bandaged the hand of the man in front of her, while the creature wondered what had been so enjoyable about such a thing.
The devil’s familiar, who could barely resist the urge to run away, flew over Cecil Lionelta’s head and told her what it had seen and heard.
Cecil Lionelta listened to what her familiar had seen and heard without changing her expression. Without even looking at the small creature, she cast a swamp-like, sticky shadow at her feet and swallowed the black bird whole.
It was a dark swamp that was made of endless nothingness, and the flying beast that no one cared about uttered its last words.
“Caw!”
It had been just one word, but it seemed to tell the truth about life that the creature had learned in its short life.
In the end, women were scary beings.
***
“It had hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m sorry—if you get hurt, I feel hurt too,” she said softly.
The woman with a gentle smile carefully wrapped a black bandage around her man’s right hand.
Cecil Lionelta looked at her husband’s hand, which had been injured by her own mistake, and in a soft voice, she apologized calmly. She wore a peaceful look, as if what had happened earlier had been just a dream.
The Inquisitor, who had been just staring at the figure from afar, raised his head and looked around at the bizarre space he had been in. It looked exactly like the hut in the dream garden that Cecil had proudly shown him when they had been in Kente Village, but for some reason, instead of the warm warmth it had had back then, there was only a cold and unpleasant atmosphere.
Feeling his throat burn, Julius tried to think of a way to resolve the current situation. Escaping by force had been an extremely reasonable and quick option, but it was not possible. Because the woman in front of him had been hurt because of him—the image of a woman shedding bloody tears and clinging to him passed before his eyes.
In the end, Julius, who had opened his mouth to say something, was unable to say anything further and closed his mouth again.
Shraak. Shraak.
It was a quiet space where only the sound of bandaging was heard. Time passed, and the devil finally tied the bandage and placed his lips on the priest’s hand without saying a word.
Chu.
It was a sound much akin to a kiss.
A faint blush appeared on her white cheeks, and the poor woman broke her silence and spoke to her man.
“Thank you… for not abandoning me.”
“…”
“That’s right, I tricked you. I knew about Erman’s plan, but I didn’t tell you,” she continued.
No answer came.
Cecil raised her head and gently took in the man’s image in her blue eyes, which were infused with thick black energy.
‘Oh, he felt sorry for me just now. That’s cute.’
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