412

Fallen Angel

"Something has happened," Malachi reported. "Daniel has called upon the Paladins of the Silver Hand."

"The Silver Hand?" Kazan from Hell clearly didn't recognize the name.

Malachi explained, "I don't know much either, but according to Daniel, the Silver Hand Paladins have the ability to restrain demons, which appears to be true. They seem well-equipped to handle demons with ease."

"More importantly, their commander is Forseti, the Sun God personally anointed by Odin. He's formidable, surpassing even my strength, possibly rivaling the likes of the warrior angel Luther."

Kazan frowned. "God Aesir..."

"Yes," Malachi affirmed. "This formidable Aesir deity led his knights into battle, swiftly altering the landscape, catching us off guard."

Kazan pondered for a moment, stroking his chin. "So, what's our move now?"

Malachi's lip curled slightly. "Do I need to spell it out? After all, we are twins, though long separated."

"True," Kazan chuckled. "Asgard has long been Hell's nemesis. If I can deliver the head of this Sun God to Hell, with Lucifer's backing, I could ascend swiftly to the Council of Satan and claim the throne of Hell."

Malachi hesitated briefly. "Once that's done..."

"Fear not. When I rule, I will ensure you're duly rewarded with the heads of several major demons, especially that nuisance Hus, elevating your status before Randkiel and perhaps even vying with Luther for his position," Kazan chuckled again.

The conversation continued a bit longer before Kazan suddenly remembered something. "By the way, earlier you mentioned these Paladins can restrain demons. Are they truly formidable?"

"They are," Malachi confirmed. "But once introduced to Hell, we can bring our full strength to bear. Together, dealing with them should pose no problem."

"Very well. Let's proceed."

Malachi took flight once more, returning to the village of St. Van Gonzalo. In the dark of night, he folded his wings and appeared to rest.

"It's him..." Forseti silently observed Malachi's return, inwardly wary.

Although unaware of Malachi's clandestine activities in the dead of night, suspicions lingered, keeping him on alert.

Watch out for this one.

Over the next few days, the combined forces of angels and Paladins clashed repeatedly with demons. However, the intensity of these skirmishes notably diminished, often ending with hasty demon retreats and minimal casualties.

Nevertheless, recalling Malachi's solo assault, the battles remained fierce, resulting in over a thousand angel casualties and a similar number of demon deaths.

Normally, the corpses of thousands of demons could amass potent dark energy, potentially spawning higher-level malevolent spirits or entities like Mangog. Unfortunately, these demons met their end either under the Holy Light's blade or consumed by heavenly fire. Forseti ensured their remains were meticulously cremated, denying any chance of residual dark energy accumulation.

Consequently, most fallen angels still wandered the village of St. Van Gonzalo.

The souls of over a thousand wandering angels cast a soft, radiant glow over the entire village. Despite the ruin, this presence imparted a profound sense of sanctity.

Villagers routinely offered prayers and homage, honoring these ethereal lights.

Forseti activated his Eye of Reckoning, observing the angelic souls drifting aimlessly above San vanganza. These spectral entities meandered through the village skies, akin to a thousand feathers adrift in the wind.

The soul—fundamental to the universe alongside time and space—underpinned all magic and extraordinary power, bound by the laws governing souls.

All feared the laws of the soul,

None comprehended the laws of the soul.

This surreal spectacle left Forseti in awe. Deeply immersed, he couldn't help but inquire, "Why do these angelic souls linger here?"

"Because Heaven has lost sight of God," Daniel sighed, his tone heavy.

After a pause, he continued, "Demons find their way to Satan, angels to God. Yet, our Master has been absent for ages, the gates of the Most High closed for millennia—none, not even Archangel Randkiel, have glimpsed Him."

"Unable to return to God, remaining in St. Van vanganza is the next best thing."

Forseti pondered briefly before cautiously asking, "Have you ever seen God?"

Daniel hesitated, then suddenly grew animated. "Are you questioning God's existence?"

"No, I..." Forseti harbored doubts about God's existence.

Angelic testimonies were credible, yet he had little substantiated information on God, only vague rumors.

Moreover, Daniel's assertion that God creates souls further strained belief. Over countless eons, soul study yielded no accounts of soul creation.

Forseti suspected God, like Satan, constituted a council—the Council of God, an honorific title for the High City of Gold's ruler, perhaps a collective identity.

Such skepticism offended angels.

Daniel persisted, fervent. "Though unseen, God undoubtedly exists—akin to Asgard's Odin!"

"Though unseen, God's existence holds true. The Spirit of Vengeance, creation examining worldly sins—all universes' angels attest to our Master's works, proof of His craftsmanship!"

Daniel's fervor grew. Forseti sweated, raising a hand. "Alright, I understand..."

Daniel persisted. Spotting Malachi nearby, he implored, "Malachi, tell him—God's existence is irrefutable, correct?"

"Indeed," Malachi affirmed, smiling serenely, then turned and departed.

Forseti watched Malachi depart, silently reflecting.

Daniel's ardor stemmed not from unwavering faith, but doubt and confusion mirroring Forseti's own.

Malachi's composed demeanor, however, bespoke resolute conviction—but one perhaps unbound to God.