Chapter 128

A demon flew high through the air, with no wings, seemingly levitating as the vein-like patterns running all the way up and past his glass eyes glowed blood red. Torith was a named Veinblood Cherub, who, unlike his siblings, was blessed with a tougher adult body made of tempered porcelain similar to tempered glass. Though he still shared the physical fragility of all Veinblood Cherubs, he could wield a potent form of telekinesis and blood magic, which was why his lord had chosen him to lead the invasion of the capital city of Veridiania, Goldfaith. Alongside him flew several nameless demons—imps, the reptilian Drakoraths, and, of course, other Veinblood Cherubs. 

They had been flying towards Goldfaith for half an hour and still had a ways to go, but Torith knew they would reach Goldfaith soon—perhaps in a little over an hour. The timing didn't matter; what mattered was the pain and suffering they would cause once they arrived. *I will make you proud, my lord,* Torith thought, narrowing his eyes in focus. 

Suddenly, he heard the sound of glass shattering next to him. "What?" he muttered, turning to see one of the eight cherubs missing its head. "How?" He looked down and saw two men below. One had auburn hair and was pointing a rifle-like weapon, which had most likely killed the cherub. The other man was dressed in layered clothing who, despite having a very clear human form, simply could not be human, having an appearance that defied comprehension. For mortals. *Another angel?* Torith wondered, shocked by the presence of two angels in a world without Christianity.

There was no time for further contemplation. The man with auburn hair fired two more shots, expertly taking out one of the six imps with a headshot and hitting one of the four Drakoraths in the chest, causing it to roar and extend its blades from the sections above its wrists. "Kill them!" ordered Torith as he, along with the nameless demons, flew down towards the two men. 

The man with auburn hair continued to fire. Another cherub's head exploded in a shower of porcelain shards, its glowing veins sputtering out like dying embers. An imp, caught mid-scream, was silenced instantly as a bullet tore through its throat, severing its spine and sending it spiraling lifelessly to the ground. Despite the high speed of their descent, the man remained calm and precise, his shots unerring.

The demons, undeterred by their fallen comrades, closed in rapidly. Torith's eyes blazed with fury as he summoned his telekinetic powers, ready to crush these defiant creatures and fulfill his lord's command.

But as he raised his hand to crush the man with auburn hair, "Heavenly Paradise: Unsatisfying Sanctuary." Torith's glass eyes widened as a white halo appeared above the angel's head and began to glow. *Shit, I have to-* Before he could even finish his thought, Torith was transported somewhere else.

Torith let out a wistful sigh as he watched a group of Veinblood Cherubs talking to one another, all with adult bodies much like his own. He was dressed in the finest clothing, of the highest quality. Leaving the group of cherubs to their conversation, he walked through his castle back to his throne room, designed perfectly to his and his kind's liking. The room was an opulent chamber of polished black stone, adorned with veins of pulsating red light that seemed to breathe. The walls were lined with intricate glass mosaics depicting the history and triumphs of the Veinblood Cherubs, while the floor was a mosaic of shattered porcelain and glistening gemstones. At the center stood his throne, a grand structure of obsidian and crimson glass, shaped like a giant lotus, with each petal sharp enough to cut.

He sat down on his throne. He had done it—he had become a Demon King. He had proven that his kind weren't just cannon fodder, that they weren't just tools for transportation. They were proud demons, able to match up to the rest. Still, he felt a sense of longing, an emptiness. Why wasn't he happy? He had accomplished his goal and beyond. This was why he had become Malvorr's retainer, so that his siblings could have proper lives rather than just be thrown to the slaughter. He had done it, he had done it! Why was it not satisfying? Why did he feel incomplete? Why did he feel void?

*Wait a moment?* he thought. *How did I get here?* He had no memory of... anything. Nothing came up—he was just here, his goal complete. *But how did I do it?* He asked himself, looking down at his shaking hands. It wasn't right, this place wasn't right! He got up from his throne and shattered it to pieces with his telekinesis. This situation wasn't right! He tore out the pulsating veins adorning the black stone walls, ripped out the glistening gemstones from the floor, and cracked the glass depicting a history he had no recollection of, the sudden sounds of destruction drawing several of his cherub subjects into the room. His eyes moved to them as they entered the throne room. These things were wrong! Using his telekinesis, he crushed his siblings, scattering their pieces everywhere. Time itself wasn't right! He raised his arms and pulled, ripped, and cut apart the very fabric of the space he was in, literally tearing apart time itself. He still felt empty, he still wasn't out of whatever this was, he was still stuck. Then he realized it—he wasn't right.

He brought his shaky arms towards his own chest, his fingers elongating into sharp talons. With a swift, brutal motion, he plunged his claws into his chest. The porcelain of his body cracked and splintered, red veins flaring brightly before shattering. He gripped his heart, a glowing core of pure energy, and crushed it. As his life force ebbed away, the fabricated reality around him began to dissolve, and Torith's essence scattered into the void, leaving nothing but an echo of his despair.

"There, done," said the angel, dusting his gloved hands with a satisfied smile as he surveyed the corpses of all the demons who had taken their own lives inside his Heavenly Paradise. He turned to the Noble beside him. "How did it feel to see and kill demons, Harick?"

Harick, who had just slung his rifle over his back, looked down at Torith's shattered body. "They were not as significant as I thought they would be," he replied coolly.

The angel chuckled. "Insects rarely are," he said. "Now, come on. We still have a few days to go." He began to walk away, the remnants of his halo fading into the air.

Harick took one last look at Torith's corpse, his expression unreadable, before following suit.

The demons never even made it to their destination.