He's Actually Lucifer

To deal with me using tactics meant for grade schoolers was a gross underestimation. I closed my eyes, and with the speed of a 200-meter champion, I combined my limbs and wings, teleporting beside him like a rocket, and seized his wings.

"I can't stand you! Let me go!" Carlo cried out in pain, pointing to a small wooden house in the clouds. "Let's go in there!"

I flew halfway up and hovered at the entrance of the tavern, muttering, "Lucy's Tavern."

I entered and then stepped back outside to check the sign of the tavern again.

No mistake, it indeed read "Lucy's Tavern."

But what kind of sorcery was this?

The words Carlo and I had exchanged earlier had been in a language that wasn't English—I had somehow learned a new language without even realizing it?

I plucked one of my feathers out; it stung a bit.

Was I dreaming after all?

Blowing away the feather, I slowly entered the tavern.

The tavern was a small wooden structure with a coffee-colored theme, and the lighting was somewhat dim. The tablecloths were made of high-quality rose-colored velvet, and both the bar counter and tables were occupied by angels.

These angels were quite animated, not the mechanical, smiley, and wing-flapping deities I had in mind. They were sitting on wooden chairs just like humans, chatting and drinking, except for the addition of a pair of wings. What made it even more interesting was the row of high stools at the bar counter, all occupied by angels. While the whiteness of their wings varied, they were neatly arranged in a row. When the female angels chatted, they used their hands and feet in lively conversation, and even their wings would extend and retract in sync. When they got excited, they would lightly flap their wings and then settle back down.

Carlo sat down at the bar counter and ordered a pitcher of yellow-colored liquor from the proprietor, placing it on the table and gesturing to me with a beckoning finger. After I sat down, a young female angel beside me happened to catch my eye, smiled friendly, and then turned back to her drink without paying me much attention.

She didn't seem to care about me at all, but she left me in a daze for a long time. Even if we ignored the four slightly extended wings, her brilliant golden hair, overly delicate features, and flawless skin illuminated by the bar's light made it impossible to think of her as a human.

Just as I was lost in thought, I heard a jingling sound beside me. Carlo took out a pouch from his waist and shook out a few coins.

I looked at the coins with curiosity, "Is this money?"

Picking one up and examining it, it seemed to be made of red copper with a lightning bolt imprinted on it, and the lightning bolt had a sun on it.

What was this? Harry Potter sunbathing?

"You're hopeless. How can you forget this? It's the currency of Heaven. Let me explain the exchange rate: One gold coin is equal to ten silver coins, which is equal to one hundred copper coins, which is equal to one thousand iron coins. Got it?" Carlo poured his belt onto the table, shaking out a pile of coins, and he picked out three, one of which was identical to the one in my hand. He placed the grayish coin in front of me, approximately the size of a fingernail. "This is an iron coin. The pattern on the obverse side represents robes and a wreath, symbolizing the Archangel of Light, Lord Sandalphon. The reverse side features armor and feathers, symbolizing the Guardian War God, Lord Tyrrel."

So, in times of peace, the War God's role was to guard and repair wings.

Carlo flipped the copper coin I held in my hand. The copper coin was slightly larger than the iron one. "On the obverse of the copper coin, there's a lily, symbolizing the Angel of Water, Lord Gabriel. On the reverse side, there's a lightning bolt, representing the Angel of Thunder, Lord Uriel."

The silver coin was about the size of a bottle cap. Carlo held it up and then returned it to his pouch. "On the obverse of the silver coin, there's a flame and an eye, symbolizing the Angel of Fire, Lord Metatron. On the reverse side, there's a snake pattern, symbolizing the Angel of Wind, Lord Raphael. Besides Lord Lucifer, Lord Raphael is the most favored angel by God."

All these names and terms made my head spin, and I took a sip of the drink in misery.

"Gold coins are rarely in circulation in our area. They are mostly used in the upper heavens. They're about this size," he gestured with an "OK" sign, "On the obverse of a gold coin, there's a holy light with six wings, symbolizing Lord Lucifer. On the reverse side, there's a cross, symbolizing God, Jesus. The obverse and reverse of all four types of coins shine with radiance, symbolizing the supreme glory of the Creator."

The cross, wasn't that because Jesus was nailed to it? Since Jesus was still alive, how could it... So, I asked, "What's the connection between Jesus and the cross?"

Carlo shook his head, "I'm not sure, but I do know that prophecy says the cross is closely tied to the future of Lord Jesus."

I felt a mix of sadness and horror. I quickly changed the topic, "By the way, what is the Holy Light with Six Wings?"

"You can even forget about the Holy Light with Six Wings! I don't know what to say anymore!" Carlo shook his head helplessly, sounding like he'd said similar phrases many times before. "Do you still remember how to distinguish angel ranks?"

"The more wings... the stronger?"

"And also, they come in different colors: gray, white, blue, gold, and holy light, with higher ranks corresponding to later colors."

"So, two gray wings are really the worst?"

Carlo nodded.

I looked at my own wings and counted them. Then I said confidently, "Actually... my wings aren't that gray, are they?"

"Uh, there are grayer ones."

For the next few minutes, I stared at him, and he stared at me. Finally, he smiled faintly, "All Archangels have golden six wings, except for Lord Lucifer. So, the Holy Light with Six Wings has become his symbol, representing the highest realm of angels."

My fingers were placed on the table, and I had the strong desire to flip it over. I wasn't asking for holy light; at least give me some golden wings or something! I had crossed over here, and not only did I not become the hero of creation, but I had become a downtrodden commoner!

I continued to smile and nodded, pushing aside the coffee pot, sugar bowl, wine glasses, plates, and clearing a flat space on the table. I wiped away the dust with the tablecloth, took aim, and with all my strength, I slammed my forehead onto the table.

In the moment before passing out, I heard a collective gasp of shock from the surroundings. But I couldn't care less; I wanted to go back, even if it meant becoming homosexual with Tom Ellis, I would accept it. Let me go back! Let me go back!!!

"Isar, Isar, Isar..."

Being forcefully shaken awake, I saw Carlo's face once again, and I turned my head aside.

"Ah, you're okay. I have urgent matters to attend to today, so I have to leave," Carlo said before preparing to depart.

I was still lying with my eyes closed, but I reached out and grabbed his wing. He glanced at my hand and said, "My dear Isar, I must tell you something. Grabbing someone's wings is extremely impolite."

My hand stiffened, and I quickly let go, saying, "I apologize for the rudeness."

Carlo shrugged, "It's okay, we're buddies. But I just fixed it, so you should think about my poor feathers... By the way, why don't you come with me? Since I'm heading to Jerusalem today, passing through the Second Heaven on the fourth day, I can drop you off there."

The beautiful owner, Lucy, suddenly stuck her head out and said, "Poor Isar, next time, try not to do something so, um, indecorous. Being * is quite pitiful. Of course, you can often see the most respected person among pilgrims, which is quite lucky."

I looked at Carlo, and Carlo whispered in my ear, "She's talking about Lord Raphael."

"Wait, something indecorous? Have I done something embarrassing?" I whispered.

"With so many people around, let's not discuss it further. Let's go," Carlo urged as he headed towards the door.

I realized that everyone was looking at me. I turned back and, like an angel, gave everyone a friendly smile. Surprisingly, their reactions changed completely, and they all turned away to continue drinking their beer.

Lucy shrugged, wearing a somewhat helpless expression.

As we exited the tavern, I saw a white horse with a horn on its head pacing in front of the tavern and couldn't move any further.

"Unicorns are everywhere in the Third Heaven and above," Carlo said with a look that said, "You're really pathetic."

I cautiously approached it a few steps.

The way it emerged from the clouds was dreamlike: sharp hooves, straight legs, supple muscular lines, silky mane, and eyes filled with clarity... "To think that I like the kind of mount that girls like. If you're a hero, you should ride a pegasus," Carlo pondered for a moment and added, "Pegasi don't have horns, but they have wings."

As we walked on, I saw more and more buildings, a world full of smoke and fantastical sights. Even small coffee shops and inns had intricate textures carved into them. Various signs, marble, granite, wood, obsidian, formed one exquisite building after another. There were also some merchants on the streets, with their wings tucked away, selling all sorts of strange things.

As we continued walking, Carlo said, "When angels come into contact with beings from the demon realm, their wings change color. You can tell if a merchant's wings have turned black whether the things they're selling are genuine or not. But even if you see gray wings, don't be too quick to trust them. They use Klariss secret medicine from the elf race to temporarily darken their wings. From another perspective, no normal angel would willingly trade their noble wings for something from the demon realm, even though some of the treasures from the demon realm are tempting. It's better to avoid it. Just look at our pitiful wings."

A pegasus flew by in front of us.

The flowing clouds gave it a dreamlike appearance: sharp-hoofed, straight-legged, supple muscular lines, silky mane, and eyes filled with spirituality. "By the way, Isar, do you know who the most hypocritical angel in the entire heavenly realm is?" Carlo looked at the pegasus but continued speaking without waiting for my answer. "It's Gabriel."

"Gabriel?" The beautiful angel?

"Seraphim are the highest-ranking angels, so they're essentially void of substance, but in order to communicate more easily with lower-ranking angels, they always appear in the form of a six-winged angel. Among the seven Archangels by God's side, they all chose male forms, but Gabriel is the only one who chose a female form. What does that tell you? She's not an emotionless Archangel at all; she's a lower-ranked angel with even lower intelligence, always fantasizing about something happening with the male Archangels. She's obsessed and constantly dreams of becoming a hero, insisting on riding a griffon. Many people already say she likes Lord Raphael. Such an angel is truly unbearable... Isar, are you even listening?"

"I know, I know. Gabriel is shameless. She clearly likes griffons but insists on riding Raphael."

"...Well."

"Hey, Carlo, wait, why are you flying so fast—"

...

Ten minutes later, Carlo, who had originally planned to respond with silence, couldn't resist the urge to continue his role as the celestial commentator.

Among the jumbled mess of angel names he mentioned, the two most frequently repeated names were Raphael and Metatron. As for Lucifer, he said there wasn't much to say about him because he was too elusive.

Raphael, the Angel of Wind, was one of the great angels of the Temple. He seemed to have a rather feminine appearance and was somewhat intimidating (Carlo said, "His beauty is like a blooming white rose"). He had a gentle personality and was deeply revered by pilgrims. He also ruled over the Second Heaven, giving him the authority to order all imprisoned angels to commit suicide, and we couldn't complain about it.

Metatron was the Prime Minister of the heavenly realm and had the highest salary among the Archangels—except for Lucifer, as he could access the heavenly treasury at will. Metatron and Raphael, along with the other Archangels, had their clothes custom-tailored at "Lucifer's Gift," the most expensive shop on the most luxurious street in the Seventh Heaven, costing 275 gold coins per square centimeter.

At that time, I had no concept of the monetary values in the heavenly realm. It was only after some time when I started working in the heavenly realm, earning a wage of four silver coins per hour to make ends meet, and looked back at those extravagant prices and scoundrels, that I could only think of one word: rubbish!

Despite being wealthy, Metatron had a peculiar personality and often shared some mottos that perhaps others couldn't understand due to his unique worldview. His only explanation was, "You'll understand when you reach my level."

In addition, he was the most lecherous angel in the heavenly realm, and it was rumored that his lifelong goal was to sleep with every beautiful person in the world. It was said that he held large champagne banquets at home on every birthday, and almost every angel who attended had some kind of connection with him, but he couldn't remember any of their names. Someone even wrote a book called "The Sins of the Imperial Capital Lecher," in which he was heavily criticized.

As we chatted, Carlo and I arrived at the Forbidden Zone.

What met our eyes was a castle in shades of blue and gray, with a large square in front of it. On either side were endless gray lawns, and in the center stood a huge rectangular mirror, its frame entwined with thorns and roses. Everything in sight was gray and dull, except for the roses on the frame, which were so vivid they seemed to drip with blood.

Carlo pointed to that mirror and said to me, "That's the Wind Mirror of Lord Raphael, with two sides, one facing the castle and the other facing outward. The reverse side shows your current appearance, while the front side shows you a hundred years from now. There are also three other mirrors: Fire, Water, and Lightning. The Fire Mirror shows what you most desire to become, the Water Mirror reveals your past self, and the Lightning Mirror shows the person who has had the greatest influence on you."

I nodded and slowly walked towards the reverse side of the Wind Mirror. Carlo followed me, and I saw two figures in the mirror. The young man behind had gray hair and silver eyes, like an unripe apple. In front of him stood a slender and tall young man, with brown curly hair cascading onto his forehead and a pair of sea-blue eyes. Except for slightly sunken eye sockets and a higher bridge of the nose, making him appear slightly younger, there wasn't much difference in appearance from my time on Earth.

I was dressed in a white silk shirt, probably because my frame wasn't fully mature yet, and the clothes were always loose. My limbs exposed to the air were long and straight, and I wore brown leather short boots.

I slowly turned around, and the young man in the mirror turned with me.

With a gentle movement, my gray wings slowly unfurled.

At this moment, standing on the other side of the mirror, Carlo suddenly grabbed my neck and exclaimed excitedly, "You've become a six-winged angel! In just a hundred years! A hundred years from now, you'll become a six-winged angel! Do you know what a six-winged angel represents? Do you know what the white feathers on your head represent? Archangel! In a hundred years, you will surpass Lord Gabriel, Lord Raphael, and even Lord Metatron, and you'll take their place as an Archangel!"

"Archangel?" I looked at him expressionlessly. "It seems that a hundred years from now, Lucifer still won't be as powerful as me."

"No, Lucifer will always be the supreme leader of the divine race, second only to God. So, aren't you satisfied? Below the Three Gods, above the Many Gods..."

"That's not the point!" I interrupted him. "The mirror is malfunctioning."

"Isar, the Wind Mirror can't malfunction," Carlo muttered. "Isar..."

I took another look at the person in the mirror and felt somewhat dazed.

Because it was the Wind Mirror, the mirror itself had a golden tint. This made the six golden wings appear even more dazzling. The angel in the mirror was no longer the youthful figure; he looked much taller and more handsome than Isar. He had long fiery-red hair, and amidst the beautiful hues of his hair was a single white feather adorned with a gem. A gentle breeze swept by, causing his red hair and feathers to sway gently. The Archangel wore numerous exquisite ornaments, but the most conspicuous one was a silver bracelet on his wrist. It seemed somewhat plain, as if it would look better with two or more.

However, he only wore one.

I gently clenched my fists, and the angel in the mirror, wearing gloves on his hands, mirrored my action. The silver chain sparkled, resembling a string of glistening tears.

I smiled faintly, and the angel in the mirror smiled as well. Due to the change in attire, wings, and demeanor, he appeared noble and elegant, a true Archangel.

But something felt missing.

As I observed several four-winged angels ahead, I felt that the biggest difference between them and us wasn't the two extra wings or the difference in color. It was their gaze.

They seemed to lack a certain vitality.

Carlo had mentioned that angels closer to God became more abstract, empty beings who didn't even experience love.

The angel in the mirror held a sword, radiant with holy light, and though he was smiling, even his gaze seemed distant, much like the typical angel from our impression. In other words, devoid of desire, passion, or even emotions.

Would I still be here a hundred years from now?

Or had I returned to the mortal realm within those hundred years, with this gaze belonging to Isar?

At that moment, Carlo suddenly uttered three words, "Why...," and I watched him from the mirror. He stood beside me, his wings looking even grayer. "Why did you change, and I didn't?"

I paused, understanding his meaning.

Carlo turned to look at me, his gaze filled with complex emotions.

I took a step closer to Carlo. "Carlo, this is who I truly am. Just because the Wind Mirror says I'll become an Archangel, does that mean I've truly changed? If I were to crash headlong into a tree trunk right now, would the Wind Mirror still be accurate?"

"The question is, would you really crash into a tree trunk?"

"I was just making a point. Don't look into Wind Mirrors or Water Mirrors anymore. Destiny is in our own hands. If I do become an Archangel, how could I not help you?"

Carlo felt relieved, patted my shoulder, and walked towards the castle.

I looked back at the Archangel in the mirror. His wings were large and radiant, gracefully stretched out, and even the way he glanced back while walking was an extreme form of enjoyment.

And he also looked back at me, smiling, with the single silver chain on his wrist swaying. His gaze seemed particularly lonely.

The castle corridor was very spacious but somewhat dimly lit. The ceiling was extremely high, and even a light step echoed. There were frequent side passages on both sides, just a few meters apart, but Carlo pointed ahead and said, "Go to the end."

Unable to bear the echoes of our footsteps, I unfurled my wings and flew ahead. From a distance, we could hear chanting in the hall:

"Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture... Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him and He will do this... He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun..."

Carlo and I stood in front of the hall's entrance, looking forward, and noticed that it was at least ten times wider inside than the corridor. Then, there was a staircase leading downward, and below sat a hall filled with gray-winged angels. In the center, there was a wide path covered with a red carpet.

I was most afraid of places like this. I flew a little further back but ended up colliding with something. When I turned around, a man in a white cloak was standing behind me. He had no wings, wore a hat, and had a few strands of golden hair falling onto his forehead.

"Lower-ranked angels should enter immediately; don't linger at the entrance," he said, looking up at us. Although most of his hair was obscured by the brim of his hat, it was evident that he was a classic handsome man with blond hair and green eyes. Upon seeing his skin, as flawless as water, and his watery eyes, I couldn't help but recall what Little Mei had said.

"Michael, you're as pure and clean as an angel, but I prefer evil men like demons!"

The nameless anger finally erupted, and I couldn't help but wonder if she saw me as a woman with no hint of masculinity?

"Why aren't you going in yet?" the blond handsome man urged.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah—" After a series of intense experiences, from being thrown, stalked by a lunatic, hit by a car, and ending up as a low-ranking angel, followed by being imprisoned, I finally had a mental breakdown. I threw a punch at the blond handsome man's head, which I had punched crooked. Then I dashed to the edge of the corridor, grabbed a wooden chair, and attempted to slam it against my own head.

As the shattered pieces of wood rained down, Carlo rushed over to support the disoriented blond man, who had been punched by me, and urgently said, "He has consumed the Forget-Me Fruit, so he's forgotten everything. Please, Your Highness Raphael, forgive him!"

Raphael?

Raphael?

...

I halted my actions, turned, and soared into the sky. I wiped my sleeve against the wall, took a deep breath, aimed carefully, and used all my strength to smash my forehead against the wall. Then I tumbled down the stone wall like a bird crashing into a wall, slowly sliding down it, lying motionless on the ground.

"Forget it; he's been under too much stress lately. I won't hold it against him," Raphael said in a calm voice as he walked back into the church after helping me up.

Angels with four wings streamed into the church from all directions, coloring the hall with sapphire blue. All the angels hovered in mid-air, as if sitting on invisible chairs, undulating up and down.

They all held harps in their hands.

With faint golden edges and silvery strings, mist sprayed from the church's ceiling, causing the lower-ranked angels beneath to look up in awe.

Long, slender fingers emerged from their robes, untying the ribbons. The white robes fell to the ground and instantly evaporated, emitting a brilliant light that made me squint. The three pairs of golden wings unfurled like dragons emerging from the water. The already spacious hall was suddenly filled with dazzling golden light, as if unable to contain such immense power. The radiance formed a series of branching patterns, rapidly spinning in the air, surrounding Raphael.

All the angels inside the church turned their heads to look at us.

In that moment, a warm breeze wafted toward us. Raphael's golden hair fluttered as if touched by gilded willow branches. In the intense light, the Archangel gazed down with half-opened emerald eyes, exuding an aura of purity and holiness. His wings extended even further, moving gracefully as he soared into the center of the crowd.

Carlo raised his head, his expression a mix of tears and laughter. "Isar, you're done for. His Highness Raphael didn't smile. He used to smile at everyone he saw; he's the kindest and least class-conscious Archangel in the entire heavenly realm. Today, I'm sure he's upset."

I lay on the ground, my expression devoid of emotion. "Then Raphael must be sick to mingle with us lower-ranking angels for no reason."

Carlo's face turned red. "Don't speak ill of His Highness Raphael! Besides, I'm not a lower-ranking angel! If you want to be one, that's your choice!"

"Alright, my mistake. Can we leave now?"

But Carlo charged over and kicked me in the rear. "Today is a rare opportunity to purify your wings, and I haven't had that chance yet. So, you go in and receive the holy water bath and prayers from His Highness Raphael!"

The little rascal kicked me with such force that I was sent tumbling off the platform and rolled down the stairs, along the crimson carpet, somersaulting several times before landing face down on the ground.

When I finally came to a stop, I once again found myself the center of attention.

I raised my head and gave everyone a faint smile.

However, their reactions were just like those people in the tavern—everyone turned away in unison, not even bothering to roll their eyes.

At that moment, a pair of hands rested on my arm.

I looked up at the blue-winged angel circling in the sky, one circle after another. And there was the exquisite and beautiful face of the person in front of me, with a small bird circling above his head.

Close up, there really wasn't a single flaw. Moreover, it felt like my vision had improved by hundreds of times.

Raphael's expression was calm and solemn. After helping me to my feet, he walked back to his original position, spread his wings, and took flight. As he ascended into the air, the four-winged angels in the sky aligned themselves neatly, each holding a harp. Then, the music of rolling beads on jade plates filled the air.

Once again, countless mists fell from the sky, and upon closer inspection, it seemed they had descended from the harps.

I turned to look at Carlo, and he pointed at the mist.

So, this was the holy water.

I took a step forward, but when I noticed no one else was moving, I took a step back.

Raphael's voice resounded, "May the grace of the Lord God be upon us."

The other angels responded, "Kyrie eleison."

What was this? A prayer?

I turned around to look at everyone. They all had their eyes closed, hands gently clenched into fists and placed on their chests, their expressions devout and peaceful. Then I looked at Raphael, who was hovering in mid-air, assuming the same posture, with half-opened eyes. According to the principles of physics, the larger and more numerous the wings, the slower the flapping, and the more elegant it looked. Raphael's wings were truly enormous, still six in number, and when he flapped them, it appeared in slow motion, like a scene from a movie... and then came the prayer.

"May the grace of the Lord God shine upon our souls."

"Kyrie eleison."

"May the Lord God grant us the treasures of His divine grace."

"Kyrie eleison."

"May the Lord God lead us on the path of salvation."

"Kyrie eleison."

"May the Lord God inspire us to cultivate virtue."

"Kyrie eleison."

"May the Lord God help us remain steadfast in righteousness."

"Kyrie eleison."

"May the Lord God reward us with eternal life."

"Kyrie eleison."

The hall fell suddenly silent.

The four-winged angels descended slightly, forming a halo around Raphael. The eyes of the pilgrims were filled with pure devotion. Raphael slowly opened his eyes, lowered his arms, and spread his six wings gracefully:

"He holds light and electricity in his hands, crossing the boundless skies.

He commands the constellations to illuminate the high heavens.

He makes volcanoes spew flames, crafting fiery swords,

Dividing mountains and parting seas with a single hand.

He forges time into an endless thread, sliding through space without a beginning or end.

He sharpens thoughts and wisdom into unbreakable arrows,

Shooting them at all the people in the world.

Then he rides the thunder and flies into the sky."

The other angels responded.

"We are all children of God, with our feet on reality and our eyes turned towards hope.

They all bow down and fall to their knees; we stand tall and straight.

"May the love of Lord Jesus be with us.

"May the grace of Lucifer be with us.

"May the radiance of the Creator God shine upon us."

Raphael raised his head, his face solemn and sacred. He spread his arms, extending his six wings as if to embrace the entire world.

The radiant hues of his wings illuminated the dim hall.

His vast heart accommodated the radiance of centuries.

The Archangel smiled, and his face radiated the grace of the heavens and earth: "Hallelujah."

"Hallelujah."

"Hallelujah."

"Hallelujah..."

The angels joined in the recitation, wave after wave, in an unending chorus that resonated throughout the grand hall.

All the two-winged angels' wings returned to their pure white state.

The baptism of God, the prayer of God.

"God is with us."

Raphael descended from the high skies. "Genesis, which is celebrated once every hundred years, is fast approaching. The punishment for this time has been lifted and will not be repeated."

With that, he led a squadron of four-winged angels and flew out of the church.

Immediately, cheers erupted in the church: "Long live His Highness Raphael! Long live His Highness Raphael!"

I flew to the entrance and stopped in front of Carlo. "Carlo, that Raphael guy seems to be quite impressive."

"Naturally. His Highness Raphael is the most noble."

"But he has his face on coins now, so he must be quite noble."

"What kind of logic is that? Actually, the most noble person in the heavenly realm is Vice Lord Lucifer, who possesses five-sixths of divine power. He's titled the Radiant Morning Star by God, a distinction no one else has."

"What about Jesus?"

"Jesus doesn't have it either. In the heavenly realm, there are two angel academies: the Academy of Divine Law and the Seventh Heaven Academy. The former produces Prayer Angels, while the latter trains War Angels. Lucifer occasionally inspects the Seventh Heaven, and there's an interesting rumor about it: the bravery of a warrior in the Seventh Heaven isn't measured by how many enemy heads they can cut off in battle but by how long they can gaze into Lucifer's eyes. Even if it's just ten seconds, they become the bravest angel in the Seventh Heaven. Unfortunately, the Seventh Heaven hasn't produced such a warrior."

That was truly incredible.

Countless angels flew overhead, displaying their white wings in a show of extravagance. Carlo looked up at them, his eyes rolling, then he took off into the sky, looking at me. "You don't have to be punished anymore; you can return to the city of Jerusalem."

I nodded and flew to his side, joining the group of angels exiting the castle, the scenery suddenly opening up.

"Are they all going to Jerusalem? And where is Jerusalem located?"

"It's in the Fourth Heaven, the Heaven of the Sun."

They say that Jerusalem is the territory of Michael.

Michael is the second Vice Lord in the heavenly realm and the Archangel of great importance. The Bible records him as the chief victor in the battle to quell Lucifer's rebellion. Although Carlo hadn't mentioned it before, the position of this angel in the heavenly realm was definitely not insignificant.

I ventured to ask, "So, does this mean we have a chance to meet His Highness Michael?"

"Isn't Michael the son of Reyno? He's known for his courage throughout the heavenly realm."

"The most courageous?" It seemed everything was just as the legends described, with born heroes standing out from the rest.

"Yes, he pursued Vice Lord Lucifer relentlessly, shocking the entire heavenly realm. His crazy deeds are too numerous to recount and could fill thousands of pages if written down. The most memorable one is when he knelt and begged Vice Lord Lucifer to make him a Special Pet Angel, but Vice Lord Lucifer just kicked him away with a single kick." Carlo rubbed his chin. "You know how unlikely these two events are. A Special Pet Angel is like a pet to a superior angel, and for a Chief Angel to request to be made a Special Pet Angel is beyond embarrassing. Even the humblest of demons wouldn't make Vice Lord Lucifer resort to such a rude act. So, Michael is truly a great tragedy."

That was quite unexpected. So, did Michael defeat Lucifer because of love turned to hatred?

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know; he disappeared a long time ago."

The conversation continued as we broke through layers of clouds, becoming brighter as we should be reaching the Third Heaven. At that moment, I suddenly turned back. "Carlo, why was I punished in the first place?"

Carlo cleared his throat, and his silver hair danced in the air. "Do you really want to know?"

"I've asked you so many times already."

"I think it's better to forget this matter." Before I could reply, Carlo sighed deeply. "Isar, you've truly, truly, truly disgraced us angels with wings."

"Did I do something shameful that the other angels could see?"

"No, none of them are angels with wings." Carlo's expression turned incredibly solemn. "If you want to encounter angels with wings, you better prepare yourself to face Lord Tyrrel again."

"Is it really that exaggerated? So, there are no angels with wings in Jerusalem?"

Carlo patted my shoulder with great determination. "That's the stronghold of angels with wings."

I turned around immediately.

Carlo grabbed my hand. "Come back; you have to face it sooner or later."

The whole thing began with the siege of the Seventh Heaven by angels with wings.

If you say that chaotic times give rise to countless angry youths, then the chaotic heavenly realm gave rise to millions of angry youths.

One day, the angry youths broke through numerous obstacles and reached the outskirts of the Seventh Heaven, accusing God of unfair treatment. They had faithfully served God, even tarnishing their wings, yet they were still met with suspicion and disdain from their fellow angels. God sent Metatron to mediate, but the angry ones remained defiant. Metatron said, "If any of you no longer wish to be angels with wings, please step forward, and I will request God to grant you four wings."

So, some angels decided to comply, but there was only one. His name was Isar.

Amid countless fiery glares, Isar rushed into the arms of God and Metatron. From then on, Isar could freely enter and exit the Seventh Heaven, without having to return to the angels with wings; it was akin to burning bridges.

However, this fellow was insatiable.

Chief Angels are genderless and indifferent to love, so they can only have a special preference for one angel. However, wise Chief Angels avoid selecting a lower-ranking angel as their special preference to avoid gossip and punishment from their superiors. Isar, belonging to the category of angels with wings considered the best-looking, used his looks to get close to Metatron, making him infatuated. This allowed him to rise to the rank of Blue-Winged Angel. Still, he wasn't satisfied and desired six wings. While Metatron had grown accustomed to his greed and rejected his request with indifference, Isar went too far and crossed a line.

One day, Isar emerged from the temple, wiping away tears, just as he ran into Metatron.

Isar was known as Lucifer's number one fan, something many were aware of, but there was no evidence to support it. Metatron had chosen to selectively ignore this fact. After this incident, Metatron couldn't tolerate it any longer and coldly uttered, "Do you have no self-respect?" before completely ignoring him.

It was easy to guess Isar's fate after losing Metatron's favor. Whether he had four wings or six wings, when they were all severed, and he attempted to regain them, he could only have two wings.

After falling from grace, Isar suffered having his wings severed by the angry youths about thirteen times.

As we entered the Fourth Heaven, the sun had not yet set.

It turned out that the higher we ascended in the heavenly realm, the shorter the nights became, and there was no night at all in the Seventh Heaven. So, while it was already dark below, the Fourth Heaven was still bathed in the glow of the setting sun.

Looking ahead, there was lush greenery nearby, and in the distance, darkness extended as far as the eye could see. Behind the forest lay the main city of the Fourth Heaven, Jerusalem. It seemed like all the clouds had gathered above Jerusalem, and there wasn't a single cloud on the horizon. The setting sun pierced through the branches, casting a golden hue on the leaves below. Peering through the branches, you could see numerous Gothic-style buildings within Jerusalem. The beautiful sunset painted the most prominent castle in shades of crimson, and winged horses gracefully traversed the skies amidst a maze of floating clouds. Dusk descended upon Jerusalem, situated amidst rose-colored clouds, as if it might transform into a blazing phoenix in the next moment.

We flew over the forest.

Carlo guided me to land in front of the city gates and pointed at the merchants who were packing up their stalls. "If you don't want to die, buy a cloak or a hood to cover that handsome face of yours."

"I don't have money; can I borrow from you?"

"No money."

"I'll pay you back double when I earn some."

Carlo immediately tossed a silver coin to me.

I rushed over to a celestial merchant and asked, "Boss, do you have a hood?"

The merchant produced a hooded cloak and remarked, "Isar, why are you burying your face so low?"

This Isar was truly notorious, and his fall from grace was inevitable. While I was still pondering, she leaned in and whispered, "A while ago, an Archangel gave me a bag of gold coins, saying they were for you when you arrived."

"Gold coins?"

"I've grown up all these years and it's the first time I've seen an Archangel up close like this; it's truly unbelievable. It seems the higher the rank of the angel, the more attractive they are. But based on his attire, he doesn't seem like an ordinary angel; he might be from the Temple side. It's quite impressive that even people from the Seventh Heaven are so familiar with you."

"Gold coins?"

The merchant handed me the hood and said irritably, "The gold coins are under the cloak."

I lifted the veil to reveal a heavy cloth bag underneath. I gave her the silver coin and, as she counted my change, I examined the gold coins inside. There were at least dozens of them.

If I recalled correctly, Archangels ranked third among the higher angels and belonged to the class of Seraphim Angels, rarely seen below the Fifth Heaven. I hadn't expected that despite Isar's bad reputation, he had already infiltrated the upper echelons of society and even received money when he was down and out.

I wrapped the hood around my face like a mask, exchanged some coins with the merchant, paid Carlo back, and entered Jerusalem with him.

Jerusalem was bustling with activity, with Pegasus and horse-drawn carriages navigating the skies throughout the city's thoroughfares. For the safety of the angels, flying was prohibited within the city. Violators of the traffic rules would be struck down by guard angels as if from machine guns firing lightning bolts.

After dark, the vendors outside the city closed their stalls, and the shops within the city opened their doors. The streets were filled with all sorts of trinkets, including fake wings for decoration. Some shops displayed pure white wings, deceptively realistic. Several girls were trying on wings inside the shops, admiring themselves in mirrors. Their handsome boyfriends stood behind them, all wearing impassive expressions.

At the center of Jerusalem was a spacious square, surrounded by roads leading to various streets, resembling the legs of a giant spider when viewed from above. In the center of the square, there was a silver statue standing in a flowing pool. The pool was surrounded by fresh evening stars and violets, and many angels sat along the edge, most of them couples or groups of giggling young women.

The massive silver statue depicted an image of a Seraphim Angel. Two pairs of wings spread out above, while a lower pair of wings partially wrapped around the figure's body. His waist-length hair was tied loosely with vines adorned with flowers, draping over his chest. The angel was adorned with numerous petals, so lifelike that you could almost smell the fragrant flowers. The angel stood with a slight tilt to his legs, his face carrying a confident smile, lazy yet exuding an undiminished air of nobility.

All of this was secondary.

The crucial point was that face, that face—it was unmistakably Tom Ellis! However, the feeling he exuded was different from Tom Ellis.

Tom Ellis possessed elegance tinged with a hint of mischief, ultimately still appearing as a person, or as the infatuated women put it, possessing a certain charming devilishness. But this statue, despite being just that, a statue, invoked awe in anyone who beheld it.

I hurried over to take a closer look, but as I approached, I could only see his slender legs and short boots. When I lifted my head, I could only glimpse his slightly inclined, exquisite jawline. Beside his right foot lay a large marble slab, with the following inscription at the bottom:

Vice Lord of Heaven, Leader of the Celestials

The most beautiful and powerful angel in the heavenly realm, his radiance and courage are unmatched.

In the middle, another line of words read: Radiant Morning Star, Right Wing of God.

At the very top, carved in golden letters:

Lucifer.