(G: this chapter is 3724 words long, almost 3x the usual, so had to make it a 3 part.)
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There was a great being who defeated evil, established order, and bestowed his grace upon the world.
His name was Rom.
In the divine age, he was a living, breathing mythical being, revered as the father of all people and an object of both fear and respect. However, as time passed and humanity entered an era where they feared the power of the royal family more than the power of heaven, he was merely recorded in the Scripture.
Now regarded as a being of legend, he relinquished his position as god to his four daughters, the Archangels, and disappeared into the depths of the world.
Yet, to some, such a great being was nothing more than a father who indulged his daughters’ whining.
Before him stood an angel with gray hair, protesting to her father like a child—an outrageous sight that Rom could hardly ignore.
Unable to tolerate the disgraceful behavior of Raynell, the Angel of Punishment, Rom lifted his heavy head, swallowed his exhaustion, and began to scold his daughter sternly.
“Raynell, as a celestial being, such behavior is unbecoming. You must set an example for others. Return to your duties at once!”
“I don’t want to. I will never leave until you allow me to descend!”
[… …]
Raynell was the angel of punishment, yet in truth, she was more deserving of the title of the Angel of Love.
Unable to contain her fury over Ziffnel’s impending descent, she stormed into the Hall of Prayer, throwing a tantrum like a child before her father, a great being.
“Of course, Father said that Krail and I would form a bond that transcends the limits of existence. But how could you be so cruel as to separate us?”
[My child, there is a time for everything.]
“It has been 1,900 years since I first heard those words. I can’t endure it any longer. I must incarnate a body and go to his side as soon as possible!”
That was precisely why Rom refused to send her.
Gazing at his foolish daughter, whose mind was filled with thoughts of everything but God, Rom exuded a dignity befitting his title as a great being. He spoke indifferently.
[The lower world is in chaos due to the saint’s schemes. At such a turbulent time, we must prevent another seal on Nirhil from being broken. That is why we are sending Ziffnel down.]
“…I can do it too.”
Raynell, chastised by her father, finally stood up from the pure white marble floor of the hall. Adjusting her robes, she pursed her lips and stole a glance at her father.
“I understand. In that case, I will have to be satisfied with merely looking at Krail.”
[Good. That’s how it should be.]
“But Father, why not simply take the saint’s head, as Sister Tapnel suggested? He disregards the majesty of heaven and seeks to twist your very providence. I also fail to understand why Erman remains unpunished.”
Raynell’s question no longer came from the mischievous child she had been moments ago but from the dignified Angel of Punishment, a being who delivered judgment upon evildoers.
Rom, instead of answering solemnly, let out a rare laugh, amused by his foolish daughter.
[A father is always pleased by his child’s growth. If that child truly succeeds in twisting my providence, then he, too, is worthy of praise as a new lord.]
“…I don’t quite understand.”
Raynell tilted her pretty head, a puzzled expression crossing her face as she struggled to understand his meaning.
But no answer came.
As she eventually left the Hall of Prayer and trudged toward the Heavenly Garden, a terrifying thought suddenly struck her.
“… No way. Does that mean that father went on a trip to the mortal world and had children?”
So, was Erman the demigod who was only ever mentioned as a joke in the heavens?
Raynell, lost in thought as she pondered the horrifying hypothesis she had come up with, began to tremble.
Ziffnel, the Angel of Love, had been watching nearby. Shaking her head, she let out a sharp remark at her pathetic younger sister.
“Stupid little sister, don’t you even know what a parable is?”
The golden vase had now fully regained its original form, emitting the sacred blue smoke necessary for the incarnation ceremony to descend into the underworld.
As Ziffnel prepared for the descent, she muttered softly, eyeing Raynell’s foolish expression.
“After all, love is the problem. Whether you are an angel, a devil, or a human, the moment you fall in love, you become an idiot.”
Though known as the Angel of Love, Ziffnel was, in truth, a peculiar angel who disliked love itself.
Time was running out before the advent of Zifnel.
***
“Now, look carefully. What does that look like?”
“It… looks like a big snake.”
“Right? I guess you have a good eyesight since you’re a high-ranking devil.”
With beautiful, sparkling purple eyes, the young priestess gazed at the enormous serpent coiled around the outskirts of Aran’s city. She then turned to Aran’s mistress, who stood beside her, murmuring incantations with an eerie aura.
She continued, “So, that’s your true self?”
“Huh? What? Hey, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Liliana, concentrating intently while breaking into a cold sweat, kept her focus on the magical fog that continuously spewed from her hands, shrouding the giant serpent’s body.
Next to her, the immortal priestess pouted, grumbling in dissatisfaction.
Liliana shivered slightly as she glanced at her.
‘W-what is she talking about? There’s no way I’m some hideous monster.’
For a brief moment, Liliana glanced down at her v0luptuous chest. Smiling in satisfaction, she regained her focus and resumed her spellwork.
Priestess Emily, displeased with Liliana’s attitude, eventually blurted out something she should not have said.
“Why don’t you take a closer look? That big mouth… doesn’t it remind you of someone? A certain ‘Colossal Serpent’?”
“You… ugh! Why do you keep bothering me? I just came to help!”
The countess yelled at the priestess, who sat beside her, swinging her legs and pouting as if she had been unjustly wronged.
Perhaps finding the whole situation amusing, the woman known as Julius’ mother leaned in close to Liliana’s ear and whispered softly.
“Because it’s fun.”
Did one need any other reason?
Priestess Emily let out a delighted squeal, much like a mischievous child playing a prank on her father, as she watched the unfolding chaos with a satisfied smile.
Aran, the city of water.
Lyriam’s pride, known for its beauty and harmony.
The once-peaceful outskirts of the city had now been devoured by the massive serpent’s maw, leaving no trace behind.
What in the world had happened in such a short span of time?
Recalling Cecile’s tear-streaked face in those final moments, Priestess Emily spoke softly.
“… I guess not everyone here is dead.”
If that were the case, Julius would be devastated.
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