Chapter 205: Fallen Angel Governor Azazel
The gentle chime of the brass bell above the restaurant door rang out, a sharp, crisp sound that echoed cheerfully through the quiet dining area. However, unlike the slow, methodical, and heavily cautious entrance of their previous guest, the ranger Aragorn, the heavy wooden door this time swung open with a sudden, unreserved swiftness. The hinges groaned slightly under the sheer, unapologetic force, the door hitting its stopper with a dull, echoing thud.
Yet, despite the highly dramatic entrance, the threshold remained completely empty. The warm, inviting light of the restaurant spilled out into the dimensional void beyond the wooden frame, illuminating absolutely no one.
Sitting gracefully at a nearby polished oak table, Lucifer paused with a delicate porcelain teacup halfway to her lips. She blinked her sharp crimson eyes at the empty doorway, her spade-tipped tail swishing idly behind her against the plush fabric of her chair.
"Eh? Today's guests all seem to have very strange quirks," Lucifer mused, a teasing lilt in her velvety voice as she took a slow sip of her dark, bitter coffee. "Is this person also being overly cautious? Peeking around the dimensional corner like a frightened little mouse?"
Standing behind the spotless mahogany counter, Ren smiled warmly. The rhythmic *thwack-thwack-thwack* of his chef's knife against a wooden cutting board came to a brief halt as he set down a bundle of freshly washed scallions. He wiped his hands on a pristine white towel, shaking his head in mild amusement.
He didn't know the exact answer to Lucifer's question. However, judging by the distinct lack of immediate entry, one thing was absolutely certain. This new guest didn't seem to be a simple, ordinary traveler.
At this exact moment, in a completely different universe, the serene ambiance of a quiet evening was settling over a lavish, secluded villa. The sprawling estate, hidden away from the prying eyes of ordinary humans, was bathed in the soft, orange glow of the setting sun.
Standing perfectly still in the lush, manicured front courtyard was a man who looked to be in his prime. His deep eyes carried the immense weight of centuries. He wore a casual, deep V-neck shirt paired with a loose, dark overcoat—an outfit that screamed 'middle-aged slacker' more than anything else.
In his left hand, he casually gripped a sturdy, high-end carbon-fiber fishing rod, while his right hand supported the weight of a large, heavily stocked tackle box. He had been thoroughly looking forward to a peaceful night of night-fishing, a rare moment of respite from his endless, towering mountains of paperwork.
However, his evening plans had been abruptly halted. He stood there, staring blankly at the ethereal, glowing wooden door that had materialized entirely out of thin air right in the middle of his lawn.
The man couldn't exactly be described as classically handsome in the way a polished pop idol might be, but he possessed an undeniable, ruggedly charismatic temperament. His golden bangs fell lazily over his forehead, and a hint of dark stubble graced his sharp jawline, giving him a roguish, easygoing charm.
But what truly set him apart were the twelve massive, pitch-black wings protruding from his back. They commanded immediate, instinctual respect and fear from anyone who beheld him. The feathers were darker than the abyss itself, yet they caught the ambient evening light with a glossy, almost metallic sheen.
He tilted his head, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied the soft, inviting light leaking from the edges of the mysterious door. He didn't sense any hostility. In fact, he sensed something strangely nostalgic, yet entirely alien.
"This light..." the man muttered to himself, a wry, amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Why does it always remind me of the Lord's light? It has that same... annoyingly pure warmth to it."
He chuckled softly, scratching his stubbled chin. "Is this the Lord's summons? Did that old man miraculously resurrect just to bother me before my fishing trip?"
It was hard to imagine what others would think if they heard him utter such a sentence. Given his true identity, the mere suggestion that he was casually receiving a summons from the biblical God would surely cause a monumental stir across the Three Factions of his world.
He sighed, rolling his broad shoulders to stretch his massive wings. "Well, well."
"Paperwork is boring anyway, and the fish aren't going anywhere. Let's just treat this as a little adventure."
With a carefree shrug, the man stepped forward, his heavy tackle box clinking softly at his side. Notably, he made absolutely no effort to conceal his true nature. He didn't retract his wings into his back; instead, he walked straight through the glowing threshold with his twelve black wings proudly spread wide, their sheer, intimidating wingspan barely fitting through the magical frame.
Back inside the restaurant, the seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly. Lucifer was getting visibly impatient. Her sharp, perfectly manicured nails tapped a rhythmic, irritated beat against the wooden tabletop.
*Good heavens,* she thought, rolling her crimson eyes toward the ceiling. *How utterly boring must a person be to be this overly cautious?*
Thinking back to her own arrival, she had strutted into this mysterious shop without a second thought. Sure, the ultimate consequence was ending up being completely kept, fed, and pampered by the shop owner, but she was more than willing to accept that fate! The food here was divine, and the coffee was exquisite.
*Step...*
A heavy, deliberate footstep echoed from the doorway, instantly shattering the ambient silence.
Lucifer, who had already turned her head away in utter boredom, snapped her gaze back toward the entrance. This time, even the usually composed Queen of Hell was visibly stunned.
Behind the counter, Ren paused his cleaning, his eyes widening in a rare moment of genuine surprise. The sheer presence entering the room was suffocating. This newcomer seemed to be the most mystical, overwhelmingly powerful guest he had laid eyes on so far.
The man stepping into the warm light of the dining area was visibly a Fallen Angel. And not just any Fallen Angel—he was an unfathomably powerful one.
The ambient magical pressure in the room subtly shifted, the air growing thick with an ancient, dark divinity. Anyone who knew even a little bit about the mythology of the biblical system understood a fundamental truth. Demons, angels, and Fallen Angels determined their absolute status, hierarchy, and raw strength by the number of wings upon their backs.
The four great archangels in legend—Michael, Uriel, Raphael, and Gabriel—were all renowned as twelve-winged Seraphim. Although it was previously unknown to Ren who a twelve-winged Fallen Angel might be, the simple mathematics of possessing twelve wings meant this man standing before them was an entity capable of wiping out entire countries with a flick of his wrist.
Lucifer tilted her head, her earlier annoyance instantly replaced by a flicker of genuine intrigue. She looked the man up and down, noting the scruffy goatee, the casual coat, and the bizarre addition of fishing gear. "A Fallen Angel?" she voiced aloud, her tone lacing the words with profound curiosity.
The man halted his advance, visibly startled by the sudden voice. He blinked, taking in the sight of the sharp-dressed, white-haired woman with crimson eyes, and the calm, apron-wearing young man behind the counter.
The smell of rich, roasted coffee beans and simmering broth hit his nose, confusing his senses even further. He then smiled, a relaxed, easygoing expression crossing his face.
"Hmm? So that strange light actually leads to a place like this," he remarked, his deep voice smooth and carrying a hint of amusement. He set his heavy tackle box down on the floor with a heavy thud.
"What a remarkable piece of dimensional magic. To bypass my estate's barriers so cleanly... Well then, young man over there, would you mind telling an old fisherman what this place is?"
Initially, the man was still trying to deduce exactly what kind of secret domain or artificial space he had stumbled into. But the moment he heard Lucifer casually utter the words "Fallen Angel," he formulated a working theory. He assumed he was probably still somewhere within his original world, perhaps teleported to a hidden sanctuary run by some eccentric mythological faction he hadn't formally met yet.
Ren smiled warmly, his professional courtesy kicking in effortlessly. He stepped out from behind the counter, gesturing welcomingly toward the open, spotless dining tables.
"This is Another World, quite literally. It is a restaurant that connects to various different dimensions."
"Mr. Fallen Angel, would you like to rest here for a while, or perhaps dine? I can prepare something fresh if you're hungry."
Upon hearing this calm, straightforward explanation, the man was momentarily taken aback. Then, a booming laugh escaped his chest. He shook his head, leaning against his expensive fishing rod like a walking stick.
"Young man, your joke isn't very humorous," he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with deep skepticism. "This is Another World? A different dimension altogether?"
"Come now, I've seen plenty of pocket dimensions in my time, but casually crossing the multiverse to run an eatery is a bit of a stretch."
"I assure you, it is the truth," Ren replied evenly, his smile never wavering.
Seeing that Ren wasn't breaking character, the man's relaxed demeanor subtly shifted. His posture straightened, and the dark aura radiating from his twelve wings grew just a fraction heavier, casting long, intimidating shadows across the walls. He looked at Ren quietly, his tone dropping to a much more serious register.
"So, you truly don't recognize me?" he asked, genuinely perplexed. In his world, there wasn't a single being involved in the supernatural side of things who wouldn't immediately recognize his face, or at the very least, bow to his wings.
Ren chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "There are simply too many worlds out there with Fallen Angels."
"If I were to guess your identity based solely on your appearance, I wouldn't know exactly who all the Twelve-Winged Fallen Angels across the multiverse are."
"Uh... though I think I might know one." He cast a subtle, teasing glance toward Lucifer.
Lucifer caught the look immediately. She crossed her arms tightly beneath her chest, letting out a sharp, aristocratic huff.
She glared at Ren, speaking irritably. "I'll have you know, I never had such ugly, gloomy-looking wings! My feathers were radiant!"
"Besides, my wings have been long gone for ages. I don't need them to prove my absolute status."
The man narrowed his eyes, his keen, analytical intellect picking apart her words. He studied the sharp-dressed, white-haired woman, noting the pale demonic horns subtly poking through her hair and the spade-tipped tail swishing angrily behind her. "Then... is this lovely lady also a Fallen Angel?"
Lucifer thought for a moment, playfully tapping her chin with a manicured finger. "A Fallen Angel? I suppose technically, I could be considered a Fallen Angel."
"But I prefer the title of Devil. After all, I used to be an angel in the highest heavens, and was later banished for my... creative disagreements with the management."
Hearing this nonchalant admission, the man was momentarily stunned. A spark of intense, burning interest lit up his eyes.
"An angel? If she's an angel who was also cast out from grace, I'm suddenly very, very curious about your true identity, Miss."
Lucifer smirked, fully leaning into her regal, commanding persona. She elegantly crossed her legs, leaning slightly back against Ren's side to assert her dominance, and spoke with playful, overwhelming arrogance.
"I am Lucifer. The Queen of Hell, Lucifer. Also formally known as the Morning Star Archangel, Lucifer."
The exact moment the sacred and cursed name 'Lucifer' left her lips, the man's entire demeanor drastically changed. The casual, lazy uncle vanished completely, replaced by the hardened, terrifying aura of a veteran commander.
He stared incredulously at the beautiful, sharply dressed woman sitting before him. His mind raced, violently calculating the sheer impossibilities.
After a long, agonizingly silent minute, he let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.
"You two... you really leave me speechless," he muttered, shaking his head as if dealing with unruly children. "Well, the joke has gone on long enough."
"It's time for you two to drop the illusions and reveal your true identities. Claiming the name of Lucifer is not something to be done lightly."
Lucifer's crimson eyes flashed with genuine, fiery irritation. Her immense pride was stung. *How dare this scruffy fisherman doubt my title?*
She stood up abruptly, her demonic aura beginning to flare violently. She fully intended to show this man exactly why she ruled Hell.
However, she suddenly paused, remembering a very crucial detail. She couldn't currently use her full destructive power inside the restaurant without causing massive issues, and Ren's suppression magic was absolute.
Clicking her tongue in annoyance, she pulled out her sleek smartphone from her pocket, rapidly typing out a message and hitting send.
Upstairs, a phone buzzed. A second later, the chaotic sound of rapid, scrambling footsteps echoed from the ceiling.
*Thump-thump-thump!*
The wooden stairs groaned in protest as Cerberus practically threw herself down the banister. The silver-haired demon girl with twitching dog ears skidded to a halt on the hardwood floor, panting slightly. When her bright red eyes landed on the towering man with twelve black wings, she froze, utterly stunned.
"Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer!" Cerberus chirped rapidly, bouncing on her heels as she aggressively pointed at the man. "Is this a Fallen Angel?"
"She... wait, he doesn't look much like you at all! His wings are so big and gloomy!"
Lucifer pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Cerberus, listen to me."
"This Fallen Angel gentleman here doesn't quite believe that this is Another World. Furthermore, he doesn't believe that I am actually Lucifer."
"Since I can't use my power to blast him into next week right now, I'll leave the physical demonstration of our authenticity to you."
Cerberus's dog ears perked up instantly. A wide, manic, and highly dangerous grin spread across her face. "Leave it to me!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Cerberus's body shimmered. In a blink, she seamlessly split into her three identical, physical bodies.
The triplets moved with frightening, mirrored synchronization. They raised their hands, and the atmospheric pressure in the restaurant instantly plummeted to a suffocating degree.
*Oooommm!*
A violent, crimson-red magic circle blazed to life in the palms of each Cerberus. The demonic runes inscribed within the circles were jagged, chaotic, and pulsed with raw, hellish heat that threatened to scorch the very air.
The man's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Every single combat instinct honed over millennia of warfare screamed at him.
He instantly felt a suffocating, incredibly dangerous aura radiating from the three dog-eared girls. But most importantly, his analytical mind went into absolute overdrive.
If his vast, unparalleled knowledge of magic was correct, the structure, the runes, and the very flow of mana within those magic circles absolutely did not belong to any divine, demonic, or fallen system on his side of the universe. It was entirely, unapologetically alien.
"Stop!" the man shouted, holding up a hand, his voice laced with genuine urgency. "There's no need to fight! I concede!"
He stared intently at the fading crimson light as Cerberus, looking slightly disappointed, happily dispelled the magic. "That... which divine system does this magic belong to?"
The three Cerberus tilted their heads in unison, blinking innocently. "Divine system?" the first one asked.
"Lucifer, which divine system is this?" the second chimed in.
Lucifer scoffed loudly, crossing her arms again. "Divine system?"
"Does that bastard God who kicked us out count as a divine system representative? It's just Hell's magic, you country bumpkin."
The man fell into a deep, heavy contemplation. The evidence was staggering. The sheer density of the alien magic, the physical manifestation of the three-in-one demon, and the utter lack of any familiar mythological energy signatures.
He slowly began to accept the terrifying reality. This genuinely was Another World.
But he truly wasn't sure why the Lucifer and the Hellhound in this specific world looked and acted like this. A corporate CEO and a triplet of hyperactive dog-girls? It defied all logical reasoning.
Just to be absolutely certain, the man raised his fingers. He casually summoned a high-tier teleportation magic circle, a complex, gorgeous matrix of gold and purple light blooming beneath his boots. The spell activated with a blinding flash—
—and fizzled out completely, shattering like fragile, spun glass.
When the light faded, he was still standing in the exact same spot on the restaurant's floor. The absolute dimensional lock of Ren's establishment had completely and utterly nullified his spatial magic.
This undeniable failure made him take things incredibly seriously. It seemed there was a one hundred percent probability that this place really was a nexus to Another World.
With such unfathomably powerful beings existing here casually drinking coffee, and magic from an entirely unfamiliar divine system overriding his own, the truth was laid bare. Thinking this, the man finally relented. He willed his magical energy to recede, and the twelve massive black wings folded inward, vanishing into ethereal particles of dark light.
He bowed slightly, a polite, aristocratic smile replacing his previous skepticism. "My apologies for my rudeness. So, you truly are Queen Lucifer?"
Lucifer nodded regally, a triumphant, playful smirk gracing her lips. "Do you believe me now, Mr. Fisherman?"
The man shook his head, letting out a self-deprecating chuckle. "To be completely honest, my brain still can't quite process it."
"But that unfamiliar divine system's magic, combined with the absolute dimensional lock of this room, is more than enough to explain things. It's just... jarring."
"Our world also has the existence of Lucifer, although now he's... uh..." He trailed off, his expression turning slightly grim.
Lucifer was startled, her crimson eyes widening in fascination. *It appeared!* she thought excitedly.
*The Lucifer of Another World!*
Now entirely invested in the conversation, Lucifer leaned forward. Her tail swished rapidly like an eager cat about to pounce on a mouse.
"The Lucifer of Another World? What's he like? Is he male or female?"
"He must be managing Hell with an absolute iron fist by now, right? Tell me everything!"
The man cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight. "Uh... if I may be so bold, Queen Lucifer. The Lucifer of our world was a male."
"And... well, after the last Great War, he fell into the abyss along with the Lord—the one you call God."
"In other words... they fought to a standstill, and they all died." He paused, letting the heavy, world-shattering words sink in.
"Because of their deaths, our Underworld is currently locked in a messy, seemingly endless civil war to contend for the position of the new Devil King."
Lucifer's mouth twitched violently. Her confident smirk shattered into a million pieces.
"Died? My counterpart... died?" she muttered, trying to process the sheer, unadulterated absurdity of it.
Then, a spark of intense, burning curiosity replaced her shock. "You seem very clear about these intimate historical details."
"The last Great War? What kind of war was it, and exactly how do you know so much classified information?"
The man offered a weary, battle-hardened smile, pointing a thumb at his own chest. "It was by luck, mostly. I survived because I was the Supreme Leader of the Fallen Angel faction during that Great War."
Lucifer's delicate eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Oh? The Supreme Leader? What's your name then, Fallen Angel of Another World?"
The man straightened his posture. Despite his casual clothes and the fishing rod in his hand, an aura of undeniable, overwhelming authority washed over the room as he formally introduced himself.
"I am the Governor General of the Fallen Angels. My name is Azazel." (Little Angel: Huh? The me from Another World is an old man? And fell from grace?!)
"Azazel?!" Lucifer blurted out, her voice cracking slightly in sheer disbelief.
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