Chapter 12 The Pen Throws Down In the year 1527 of Genesis, demons led by Baal and Agares waged war on Earth. Floods raged, fires raged, and the earth shook—a scene of apocalyptic devastation.
News of the angels' involvement quickly reached the demons. Learning that the angelic army, along with the remaining elves, numbered only 200,000, Baal, who, together with Agares, commanded a million-strong army, breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's time for us to rise up," he said, immediately ordering his entire army to march towards Mount Sinai, the elven holy land, their massive force pressing in like a dark cloud. Within the elven territory, however, there was no chaos. Upon learning of the enemy's numbers, a hastily assembled general team, led by Atreides, convened a meeting before Lucifer.
Seated at the meeting were the still-wounded Elf King and his four elemental elders—the wood elder Esley, who had perished, and the remaining Seraphim, except for Metronta. Most of them were renowned for their individual prowess, but with a truly formidable enemy before them, none dared to underestimate their strength.
After listening to the military report, Lucifer pondered for a moment before dividing the allied angel and elf army into four columns. Samael and Sylph led 60,000 angels and 2,000 wind elves as the first column; Belial and Salamander led 20,000 cherubim and 1,000 fire elves as the second column; Beelzebub led 50,000 archangels and 3,000 earth elves as the third column; Gabriel and Undine led 60,000 power angels and 5,000 water elves as the fourth column; and Lucifer himself, along with Atreides, led 10,000 archangels and the remaining elves as the rearguard. An additional 2,500 troops were separated from the rear to form flanking flanking armies, led by Michael and Raphael. With a total army of 212,000, they set off for the plains beyond Mount Sinai. Despite the vast disparity in numbers, and the fact that none of those present had prior experience in real warfare, Lucifer's composed demeanor and unhurried deployment greatly impressed everyone. The allied forces, their morale soaring, marched out of Mount Sinai in an orderly fashion, seniority and hierarchy in perfect harmony. Banners fluttered between the vanguard and rearguard, especially among the armored angels, who shed their usual image of pale-robed weakness; their faces were solemn, their presence imposing.
At the start of the battle, the demon soldiers, seeing Samael leading the vanguard, recognized only the Seraphim Michael who had previously descended to Earth. Mistaking Michael for a coward, they mocked him. But then, horns sounded, and the angelic ranks immediately split and charged in. Four torrents surged in, catching the unprepared demon army completely off guard. Their left flank was pierced like a sharp sword by Michael's forces.
"Laugh all you want, demon."
Michael with disgust pulled the lightsaber from the demons' bodies, watching them turn to ash with gaping mouths.
"Don't go too far, Your Highness," Raphael said, landing on his wings as Michael, his eyes bloodshot.
"Your target isn't them."
Michael remained silent, glancing towards the rear of the demon army. The numerous demons, however disorganized, were not a threat; their commander was the key. But where was Baal?
Baal, seeing the demon army utterly routed by the angels in such a short time, flew into a rage. He snatched Leragin's bow and swiftly shot down a large number of angels. Just as he was about to aim at a slender female angel, Gabriel descended from the sky and struck him, forcing him back several steps.
"Your Highness Gabriel!" The rescued angel looked at her commander, who appeared like a god, with joy. Gabriel responded and immediately engaged Baal in battle. "No, Your Highness is no match for the Demon King."
The Angel of Power, with her sharp mind, immediately assessed the situation. She glanced at Gabriel with concern, then ran off in another direction without hesitation.
"Your Highness, Lilith has escaped!"
An angel cried out immediately beside Gabriel. Gabriel, locked in a stalemate with the Demon King, was either overexerting himself or devastated by the news of the desertion from the angelic side; his pale face was flushed red. Baal laughed triumphantly.
"Your Highness Gabriel, you are no match for me. Why not learn from that clever angel and escape, lest you damage your beautiful face?"
"Nonsense!" Gabriel was furious. With a flick of his wrist, his longsword split into two golden hammers. With a block and a push, he sent Baal flying. The massive hammers left clear marks on Baal's face. The Demon King was instantly enraged, unleashing his full power. Purple lightning sparked and spread across his body like a crest. "You ungrateful wretch!" he spat, and lightning bolts coalesced into a sword, slashing towards Gabriel.
Just then, Michael appeared out of nowhere, blocking the attack. The Demon King's power clashed with the Seraph's, the invisible currents of energy like a gale.
"Your Highness!" Gabriel slammed his fist to the ground, an angel supporting him.
"Lilith,"
she uttered the angel's name; she was an exceptionally beautiful Angel of Strength.
"Do you think I'm no match for Baal?" she glared angrily at Michael, who was locked in combat with Baal in the air. As a fellow Seraph, she never considered herself inferior to her companions. Lilith's presumptuousness gnawed at her, and she immediately shook off the Angel of Strength's hand. Unexpectedly, the seemingly frail and helpless beautiful angel stumbled, about to fall, and Gabriel instinctively grabbed her again.
"No, Your Highness…"
The female angel seemed flustered, but Gabriel's attention was no longer on her.
Michael had Baal engaged, and the demon army was crumbling; victory seemed within reach.
Just then, the demon horns sounded. Baal glanced back, released his hold on Michael's attack, and turned back, the remaining demons following him.
"They're getting serious now. We'll retreat too. You go first; I'll go inform the others to regroup with His Highness," Michael instructed Gabriel before flying away.
Hell—
"As expected of Lucifer, I've witnessed the power of the Heavenly army," Agares remarked, seemingly genuinely pleased. He sat in Hell, a huge map laid out before him.
"The Abyss Realm, with its towering, frigid rocks, I wonder if they can withstand the highest peak of our Hell," he murmured softly, his golden pen tracing lines on the map. At the same time, the mountains of the Border Hell suddenly vanished, their clean cuts as if slashed away by a knife.
In the mortal realm, an angel pointed in astonishment at the sky and cried out.
"Your Highness! A mountain has fallen from the sky!"
Of course, even without his shout, Lucifer saw the gloomy, ominous mountain. It was less a mountain and more a massive boulder, wisps of black smoke rising from it, clearly not of this mortal realm. Lucifer waved his hand, conjuring a golden barrier to block it.
"Oh no! Black water is attacking!"
"It's hot sand!"
"The lake is bubbling and boiling!"
"Hail! Hailstones the size of rocks are falling!"
Panic erupted across the battlefield, bizarre phenomena abounded. Lucifer single-handedly withstood the attacks, but was also trapped and unable to move. Hearing that Baal had led the demons back to fight again, several leaders anxiously surrounded him.
"Which demon has such power?!"
"This can't go on!"
"How much longer can Your Highness hold out?"
Lucifer's face was pale, showing signs of exhaustion, but he couldn't dissipate the pressure on him. This power was beyond imagination, a power beyond the reach of creation.
He already knew the source of this power, so he couldn't reveal it.
"My God," he murmured in his heart, but nothing else came to mind.
Crystal Heaven, the Great Cathedral.
The god raised his head from his throne, his golden eyes piercing through time, gazing into the future, at the ever-twisting and changing destiny.
The world, after its birth, had many flaws. Rather than directly and brutally altering it with force, the god preferred to let it transform through its own abilities, at most with divine assistance—this was the divine brush. The god endowed it with the power of creation, then used it to depict the subtle details of the mortal realm, such as changing the course of rivers so that deserts would not dry up and floods would not overflow.
The god cherished this delicate creative process, treating nature like a beloved child. His patience surpassed the imagination of any creator. Thus, when he saw the elf named Allen protecting a painting, the light that flashed in his golden eyes was like a star in the sky, full of admiration.
"Then it's yours."
In that instant, the elf's destiny took a turn for the worse.
For the god, this imbalance of destiny occurred every moment, like creating a tree, which could create infinite possibilities on its own. The god did not consider whether it would ultimately become a forest or cause a fire.
In his simple acts of giving, he preferred spontaneity, for the changes in fate could not be categorized as good or bad.
Ultimately, it was merely a pen imbued with his meager power; even if the artifact capable of bringing paintings to life would attract greed and covetousness, it was destiny.
A promise made cannot be broken; a god will not retract a vow, even if it is wrong.
But now, that indifferent heart wavered.
"Lucifer."
The god withdrew his gaze from the lower realm, his expression indifferent. At the same time, a figure formed of light slowly materialized outside the gates of Hell.
The god closed his eyes, immersing his consciousness within, for the first time actively entering Hell.
You provide the [Hebrew Mythology] of the great god Danmu'ai: the arduous process of creating a world.