Chapter 19 The Lion
Lucifer was unfazed by his two visits to Hell in such a short time, but Michael was lost in thought at the dark entrance.
He stared at the place that seemed to taint his pristine white wings, then turned to look at Lucifer, who was preparing for battle.
"Your Highness, this isn't a good idea!" he said. "Especially our appearance; it might alert the enemy."
"That makes sense."
Lucifer rarely praised his thoughtfulness. He was always straightforward and honest, used to acting directly in all situations, and hadn't considered such details before.
Michael was excited to hear his opinion being heard. He pulled a wooden bucket from behind his back, containing a bristle brush and black paint.
"Actually, I'm fine, but your wings…"
He enthusiastically picked up the bucket of black paint, intending to paint Lucifer's glowing wings black, when he saw the Archangel had already folded his wings and was looking at him strangely.
"What's wrong?"
Michael was a little unwilling to accept that he hadn't achieved the six-winged holy light. He looked at Lucifer's long golden hair and stubbornly handed over the brush.
"We'd better dye our hair black. No demon has hair as vibrant as ours."
"You really impress me, Michael," Lucifer smiled gently, looking at the enthusiastic red-haired angel.
"Let me help you first."
After emptying the bucket of strange-smelling paint, replacing it with new, clean, and, most importantly, black paint personally prepared by Lucifer, and then beating up the seraphim who dared to play a prank on their superior, it was all done in less than half an hour.
"Alright, Your Highness," the bruised and battered seraphim put down the brush, as harmless as when he was first created.
Lucifer responded, cast a quick-drying spell on himself, and turned around, his black hair flying wildly in the wind.
He was the Son of Light, yet his disguise as darkness was perfectly natural.
On the contrary, at this moment, light and darkness strangely merged within him.
"Your Highness," Michael stammered, staring blankly at his transformed superior.
"What is it?"
"Black hair looks so strange," he tugged at his black hair, somewhat dejected. Black-haired Michael still didn't look as good as black-haired Lucifer, and compared to his superior's seemingly effortless ability to carry off any color, he looked odd.
"Heh," Lucifer chuckled.
"I hate black too, so let's settle this matter as soon as possible."
With that, they didn't linger, quickly descending into the first level of Hell. The army of Hell had gathered in the mortal realm; the first level of Hell was somewhat deserted, but a few demons still lingered.
They silently blended in, attracting no attention, walking the paths of Hell like ordinary demons.
It wasn't exactly enjoyable; anyone would be unhappy to smell such a strong stench of sulfur. The difference between Hell and Heaven was immense, yet it wasn't as unbearable as one might imagine…
Walking slowly through Hell as a non-angel, with wings folded, was an experience neither of the two angels had ever had before.
Angels were inherently a benevolent race. Aside from the rugged roads of Hell, Michael, watching the demons pass by, and suppressing his fighting spirit, found himself no different from walking the Angelic Avenue of the Fourth Heaven.
If he had to say something, he could only say:
"Too tragic."
Truly tragic. He looked at those demons, who seemed far more ordinary than king-level demons, and sighed sincerely.
"I'm beginning to understand why they wanted to go to the mortal realm."
Not all demons were great demons. Most were just like ordinary angels in Heaven, except that while angels danced in the glow of divine light, accompanied by music and song, demons writhed in boiling lava, howling, and even turning to ashes.
"This is not a reason to start a war." Lucifer saw the same scene before him, but he didn't think so. The demons' living conditions might be harsh, but that was absolutely no excuse for evil. If they could, they could easily transform Hell into a suitable habitat for themselves.
"God is fair."
"Demons don't deserve sympathy. Michael, they are lazy, selfish, greedy, and ungrateful." He said coldly.
The greater demons spent all their time fighting for territory, while the lesser demons repeated the same tragedy without any ambition, only growing increasingly numb.
Lucifer criticized the demons as worthless, yet, passing an underground volcano, he unhesitatingly saved a lesser demon from falling in.
"Actually, His Highness has a soft heart," Michael thought secretly, following after the lesser demon saved by the Archangel.
The imp seemed oblivious to his near fall. He lay sprawled on the ground, filthy. Michael, resisting the urge to clean his blackened paws, asked what he was doing.
However, the imp seemed not to understand. After a brief glance at them, he crawled back down.
"He looks like he's looking for something."
As Michael had said, the imp was digging into the rubble, which explained his black hands.
As he dug, a golden light suddenly flashed in the darkness.
Lucifer was startled, for the light was fleeting, giving him the illusion of the sun.
"Fool, what are you digging for?"
Michael asked, looking at the imp clutching the gold nugget. Gold was beautiful, but there were piles of it in Heaven; it was neither edible nor fun.
The imp ignored him, clutching the gold nugget as if it were a priceless treasure. He stood up and held out his hand to Lucifer.
"Mammon," he said, pushing the ore forward, his obsidian eyes gleaming with joy.
"You're giving this to me?" Lucifer looked at him in surprise.
"Mammon."
The imp could only say "Mammon," but after Lucifer tentatively accepted the small piece of gold ore, a pure smile appeared on his dusty face.
Seeing Lucifer accept the gold, he cried out again, then lay down on the ground once more.
Soon he found a second piece of gold. He carefully dug it out and carried it to a sheltered spot nearby.
There, a considerable amount of gold ore had already accumulated. He continued digging, focused intently, forgetting the two of them were there.
"Well, a demon who loves gold," Michael shrugged, finding nothing more interesting, and suggested they leave early; they had important matters to attend to.
But Lucifer wasn't in a hurry to leave. He watched the demon, engrossed in his work, deep in thought.
"Perhaps we can ask him about Malbus's whereabouts."
"I don't think he'll know," Michael shook his head, not holding out much hope.
He seemed like just a dim-witted demon who only knew about gold mines, and all he could say was "Mammon, Mammon."
"Mammon!"
Lucifer didn't know the demon's name, but when he called him that, the little demon surprisingly responded.
He looked up from the black stone, seemingly puzzled.
"Mammon?"
"Do you know where Malbus is?"
Just as Michael muttered that Mammon was stupid and couldn't possibly know, Mammon, as if after thinking but more like his foot slipped, pointed in a direction.
"Thank you for your help, Mammon."
Lucifer patted the head of the unusually obedient little imp, then took out a red agate bracelet from his person.
"A golden return gift. Goodbye."
The little imp stared blankly at the red gem in his hand, then at the two figures gradually disappearing into the distance. For the first time, emotion appeared on his blank face.
"Mammon."
Lucifer and the others followed the direction the little imp had pointed, but they strayed further and further off course. As the surface layer grew thinner and thinner, and they were almost out of Hell, Michael couldn't help but speak up.
"Your Highness, have we gone the wrong way? We've almost disappeared from sight, let alone Malbas."
"That's right. It's said that Malbas was driven to a very remote part of Hell. The fewer demons there are, the closer we are to our destination," Lucifer said without turning his head.
"Why did you trust that little devil so much? Maybe he was just pointing randomly. You even gave him such a beautiful agate bracelet! Didn't you think of me at all?"
Michael pouted, but given his superior's orders and having just been reprimanded, he could only obediently follow. He was seething with frustration, though. Seeing a high point not far ahead, he took three quick steps, somersaulted, and leaped up, jumping first.
"Something's happening! Your Highness, so many demons down there—so many mechanical demons!" he exclaimed excitedly.
Below the high point was a long, narrow valley, not deep but wide, teeming with demons.
Mechanical demons that looked almost real.
"Malbas must be nearby. Let's go down!"
Lucifer leaped down, Michael close behind. They plunged into the horde of demons, but it was like drops of water flowing into a river—they made no ripples.
"Not a single one is real, they're all machines."
At first, they were wary of the mechanical demons' attack power, but this tense yet excited state of mind quickly turned to boredom as they were collectively ignored.
"This isn't even as fun as that bunch of crazy mechanical soldiers up there."
Michael gave up on provoking a mechanical demon and returned to Lucifer's side, grumbling listlessly.
"We're not here to play."
"So where is Marbas?!"
"We'll have to find him. Marbas should be the only real demon in this area; he shouldn't be too hard to identify."
They groped around in this cold, dark realm for a long time, so long that time itself lost its meaning in the darkness.
Even Michael had lost the will to speak until he saw the underground river.
"Your Highness! Is that a lion?!"
A lion was lying asleep by the riverbank. Michael immediately became excited. He always loved furry things, and after holding back for so long, he pounced on it like a madman.
The dozing lion was quickly jolted awake. It opened its sleepy eyes, staring at the object constantly tugging at its mane, and slowly opened its mouth.
"Michael." Lucifer, expressionless, pulled his subordinate back from his mane-plucking trance, then looked at the lion, whose mouth had closed again.
"Your Highness, this lion isn't Marbas's mount, is it?"
Michael looked longingly at the sleek black lion. It didn't matter; he didn't mind, even if it was black.
"An angel."
"Ahhh! It can talk! I've been teaching Missy for so long, and it only ever whines!!!"
The lion deliberately ignored the gleaming eyes of Michael, focusing on the composed Lucifer.
"What business do you have with the demon?"
Lucifer looked intently at the lion, who had so clearly revealed their identities, and stated his purpose directly.
"I would like to ask Lord Malbus about the matter of machinery."
"Is that so?" The lion yawned wearily, licking its paws as Michael exclaimed in shock, "Not a lion!"
"You are the first to come here in all this time."
"Since I was banished here, no one has come to see me."
It seemed to chuckle, then looked at them with malice.
"Your arrival is an honor, angels. State your request."
Arrogant demon.
Michael curled his lip, but he still couldn't shake the influence of the furry halo. He looked at the lion with a mixture of love and hate, and with Lucifer's tacit approval, he began to briefly recount Agares's actions in the mortal realm.
They had also made some simple inquiries along the way. Malbus and Agares had differing ideologies; it was rumored that although the other was aloof and taciturn, disliking social interaction, he was a rare peace lover. Compared to Agares's mortalistic philosophy, Malbus preferred the pure dark world. He wanted neither to enter the mortal realm nor go to Heaven, had no inclination to cause trouble, and was obsessed with machines above all else.
Such a demon was rare in Hell, so he quickly lost support in the territorial struggle. He couldn't support the savagery of most demons, and after his defeat, he was driven here by Agares.
He was probably the most likely demon to cooperate with them, Michael thought. He believed Lucifer felt the same way; otherwise, they wouldn't have gone to such lengths to come to Hell.
However, after listening to Michael's long account of the destruction caused by the mechanical legions in the mortal realm, the lion tilted his head, asking in confusion, "So?"
Although the lion's tilted head was cute, Michael was still somewhat disappointed. He felt that Malbus's reclusive personality was what allowed his own kind to bully him without resistance.
Kindness is not weakness, and courage is a virtue.
"Don't you feel bad! Your mechanical legions are running rampant under Agares's control!" he demanded loudly.
"No," the lion yawned lazily, then continued, "I'm glad they've been recognized."
"From the day they were born, no one but me had any expectations of them."
"They are my creation, indestructible, impervious to sunlight and fire; they are almost the most perfect work!"
"Don't you—don't you hate Agares?!" Michael realized what he had said and nearly bit his tongue in surprise. He had actually taught a demon to hate.
The lion nodded, frankly.
"Yes, I do."
"So tell us the mechanical legions' weaknesses, and we'll avenge you."
"Why should I tell you?"
"Agares is a despicable fellow, and I don't like the angels much either."
Malbas decisively stated that he wouldn't associate with the angels, and then opened his blood-red mouth.
"Thank you for bringing this good news. As payment, I won't eat you this time. Now leave my territory, angels."
He finished speaking and slowly disappeared.
Michael was utterly speechless with rage. This demon ate them? Did he even know who they were?! Two Seraphim—where did he get the courage to digest them?
"No! He ate angels?!" He realized what he meant and immediately exploded in fury. Even the black paint couldn't conceal the burning flames in his hair. The black faded, and the fiery red swept everything back. Michael conjured angel wings, preparing to hunt down the ungrateful demon.
"No! I'll catch him and destroy him!"
"Calm down, Michael. You handle Metatron's angel roster every day. Don't you know there are missing angels?"
Lucifer remained remarkably calm. He even had the leisure to defend the escaped Malbas.
"He probably just didn't study rhetoric well, and his logic is terrible too."
After all, he was a demon.
This sounded...more ironic than angry?
"…" Michael opened his mouth, wanting to say something but unsure how to begin, finally managing to speak after a long pause.
"So…we're just going back like this?" That would be too disappointing, he thought, unable to suppress his complaints.
"What kind of terrible idea was that Elf King coming up with! What good could a demon possibly have! I told you he wouldn't tell us!"
Lucifer looked around at the mechanical demons following closely behind, wondering if he should catch one to study, when he saw a small shadow flash by among the mechanical demons.
"Michael." He gave the order,
Michael instantly understood, suppressing his anger as he rushed out and quickly caught the spy.
"You little devil, let's see where you can run now!"
The spy struggled incessantly,