Chapter 38: Jealousy
Angels are hailed as the "Children of the Wind," and the tradition of "Wind-Hunting" dates back to the earliest times.
"Wind-Hunting," as it is known, entails journeying to the mortal realm to hunt down colossal creatures.
Between heaven and earth, there dwell many monstrous beasts—beings so immense they defy verbal description. They take on myriad forms, yet share a single common trait: they possess no intellect or reason.
They exist solely to devour anything and everything that crosses their path. The angels frequently undertake missions to cull these beasts; for if left to breed unchecked, their rampant proliferation would disturb the peace of both the heavens above and the earth below.
Michael alighted upon the rolling sea of clouds, leading his griffon, Missy. The beast nuzzled affectionately against his palm, attempting to reclaim its master's attention; yet, for once, Michael found himself too preoccupied to indulge it.
His gaze was fixed upon the Sea of the Abyss—an ancient ocean from which drifted a faint, briny stench, its gem-like surface now churned by surging white waves.
A hideous black dragon thrashed violently across the water—a creature of savage ferocity. Hovering directly above it stood the Arch-Seraph, sword in hand.
Lucifer rarely participated directly in these Wind-Hunting expeditions; yet, when he did strike, his movements were far swifter and more decisive than those of the angels who made such hunts their routine.
With a single stroke of his blade, he slew the grotesque dragon. Before the thick,腥 stench of its blood could even begin to dissipate, he instantly withdrew his sword and departed, leaving his person utterly unsullied.
His heart—bound tightly by the strictures of virtue—yielded not a single flicker of pleasure from the act of killing. Sword still in hand, Lucifer gazed with cool detachment at the black dragon's corpse as it drifted upon the waves. The passage of time holds no sway over an angel's physical form; he appeared exactly as he had at the moment of his creation—save for the deep, profound depths of his eyes, which now held a trace of world-weary gravitas, etched there by the accumulated weight of the ages.
This lent his entire demeanor an air of enigmatic unpredictability.
"Your Highness!" Michael conjured a sturdy wooden post from thin air, tethered his griffon's lead to it, and then soared toward Lucifer. "Are you alright?"
"I am fine." Having just slain over a dozen beasts—a feat sufficient to secure the best individual record in the history of Operation Gale—the Arch-Seraph looked around before speaking. "There are far more colossal beasts here than in the mortal realm. Upon our return, instruct the Powers to intensify their patrols of the Sea of the Abyss."
"Understood." Michael nodded with a hint of resignation. "Do you intend to continue?"
Perceiving that his superior had no intention of stopping, he could only follow him, stepping a little closer toward the far side of the sea.
Unexpectedly, however, the sky suddenly darkened. Beneath a crushing atmospheric pressure, the previously calm surface of the sea began to churn violently.
"Who dares hunt my subjects here?!" A voice, booming like a tidal wave, resonated from the depths of the ocean. An unimaginably massive tail breached the surface, only to submerge once more beneath the waves.
It seemed to be roaring; the ensuing swells threatened to engulf the two angels entirely.
"Michael!" Lucifer's dark eyes remained fixed on the ocean's depths as he called out to his adjutant, who had nearly been swept into the sea by the surging spray.
"Keep your distance; I suspect this is a massive one."
"Let me handle this." He held his sword horizontally before his brow; the power of Light radiating from his fingertips cleansed the blade, erasing the lingering, foul aura of the beasts he had slain.
The Sword of Light blazed with the pure power of a Seraph—yet burning even brighter were the Arch-Seraph's eyes, now alight with a battle-lust ignited by the colossal creature before him.
"Let's have a go at it!"
"A death-seeking angel!" From the ocean floor, the colossal beast opened its violet eyes, glaring furiously at the angel hovering above the waves.
It plunged deeper into the abyss, diving hundreds of feet in a single breath, then surged violently upward. The moment it burst through the surface, Lucifer beheld its true form.
It was a dragon. Having dwelt in the ocean depths for ages, its armored hide was encrusted with countless barnacles and strands of algae. Its violet eyes held a bone-chilling coldness. Coiling its massive body, it stared coldly at the Arch-Seraph who had evaded its initial strike—and did not hesitate. Blazing flames spewed forth from its fanged maw. Lucifer, spurning Michael's offer of aid, swung his sword to dispel the billowing smoke, then immediately plunged into a fierce melee with the colossal dragon.
Compared to this beast, the black dragon from earlier seemed like a mere infant. No longer holding his power in check, Lucifer unleashed the full force of his might in a downward cleave; the dragon, making no attempt to dodge, opened its jaws wide and surged upward to meet the blow head-on.
Instantly, heaven and earth convulsed; the coastal tides surged inland, engulfing three hundred *li* of the surrounding land. Amidst the storm of wind and rain, only two silhouettes remained visible: one of pure light, the other of chaotic, murky darkness.
They fought with earth-shattering fury, locked in an inextricable struggle. Finally, the Archseraph severed the dragon's fangs, yet in that violent clash, his own Sword of Light shattered into two fragments and plummeted into the abyssal sea below.
They each took a step back, as if a certain equilibrium had been struck, and regarded one another with calm, measured gazes.
"Why didn't you kill me, Angel?" the dragon spoke first. "You clearly had the chance to defeat me."
"Do you look down on me?"
Enraged, it lashed out with its tail, sending towering plumes of water surging skyward. Yet, the Archseraph blocked every drop directly before him; the fine droplets misted down, catching the post-battle sunlight to form a resplendent, shimmering rainbow.
"The Chaos Dragon—Leviathan," Lucifer articulated, identifying the beast. Michael descended to land beside him, silently scrutinizing the creature fabled to be the very first being created by God.
"I hate you, Lucifer," the Chaos Dragon declared, fixing its massive purple eyes upon the golden-haired, blue-eyed Archseraph.
"I am honored," Lucifer replied, lowering his gaze to the sea below. The ocean breeze ruffled his long hair, revealing his face in all its perfect, radiant glory.
"You recognize me."
"I envy you, Angel," the dragon admitted candidly. "The Father God once favored me, too."
Yet, that favor had been all too fleeting—vanishing in an instant. On the surface of the sea, the dragon's massive form gradually dissolved, giving way to a petite, slender figure standing upon the water. Leviathan strode across the ocean's surface as if walking on solid ground; her hair was tied in twin pigtails, and her entire being radiated a chaotic power so overwhelming it could not be concealed.
"Because of the arrival of you and your kind, he no longer remembers me."
"Why do you, who ought to be basking in triumph, look so tormented?" She raised an eyebrow; though her features were exquisitely crafted in every detail, they evoked an inexplicable sense of unease. "Tell me—why? Lucifer?"
"I have always been watching you."
"Watching that face of yours—so beautiful without ever needing deliberate correction."
"Watching you with your shimmering wings—never having to hide away in the ocean depths day after day, only to emerge at the sun's zenith to scour your scales lest they become encrusted with barnacles."
"How wonderful that must be!"
She threw back her head and laughed aloud; the ocean, having just settled into calm, surged once more with turbulent waves. All manner of creatures boiled up from the depths, writhing in agony amidst the Chaos Dragon's sorrowful lament.
A brown water snake nudged against Leviathan's ankle where it dipped into the water. It was eyeless—and compared to the Chaos Dragon, so frail as to be utterly insignificant—yet Leviathan seemed to find a measure of solace in its touch. She reined in her fury, her features softening as she gently stroked the snake's head with her fingertips, before lifting her gaze once more toward the angel hovering in the air.
"You are the cherished favorite of the Gods; surely I need not mention the chorus of grievances against you echoing throughout the Three Realms?"
"Do you, too, harbor such resentment?" Lucifer looked at Leviathan, sensing a deeper meaning beneath her words.
"Naturally. I loathe every creature born into existence after me," Leviathan sneered. "For every new life that appears, a portion of the Gods' attention—which rightfully belongs to *me*—is siphoned away."
"And that is precisely why I say you are the most detestable of all."
Having been branded "detestable" time and again, even Lucifer felt compelled to strike back.
"Even without us, the Gods never once bestowed their attention upon *you*." For the Chaos Dragon had been cast into the Abyssal Sea almost the very moment she was born.
Leviathan's hand, which had been stroking the snake's head, froze abruptly. The very next instant, she crushed the water snake's head in her grasp. "What do *you* know?"
"After all these years! Not for a single moment have I ever ceased my watch over Heaven! I know everything about you all; in fact, I dare say I understand your own thoughts better than you do yourself." She licked the poisonous blood staining her hand, the corners of her mouth curling into a peculiar smile.
"You are just like I was back then—harboring expectations of God."
"But God is not someone you can place your hopes upon," the Chaos Dragon warned the Arch-Seraph, drawing upon her own bitter experience.
"Once, I didn't know; but gradually, I came to understand." She let out a sharp whistle, and almost immediately, a silver-ringed sea serpent swam over from the depths—even more beautiful than the one she had just crushed to death.
"To Him, we are just as my subjects are to me," Leviathan declared, a blend of whimsical fancy and ruthless indifference flashing within her violet eyes.
"Once He grows bored, He can simply replace us with something new."
On the journey back, Michael racked his brains, trying to find a way to comfort the Arch-Seraph, who had fallen into an unusual silence ever since they had departed the Sea of the Abyss.
"Your Highness, please pay no mind to the Chaos Dragon's words."
"She has surely had her mind twisted by years of empty solitude; she was merely spouting nonsense."
Lucifer glanced at his adjutant, meeting his cautious gaze head-on, and couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.
"What on earth are you talking about?"
Although the creature had done her utmost to sow discord between him and God through her words, given Lucifer's keen discernment, he could naturally see through to the Chaos Dragon's underlying jealousy.
He would never allow such base machinations to shake his faith in God; yet, his innately sensitive nature had still been pricked by her words, if only slightly.
"Michael."
"Your Highness?"
"What do you think of Adam?"
"He is an interesting individual." Michael stroked the chin of his companion, Misi; then, as if suddenly recalling something, he quickly added:
"Of course—he naturally cannot compare to *you*, Your Highness!"
Lucifer was left speechless by his adjutant's glibness. Michael, too, seemed to realize that his behavior had come across as—well—rather *too* eager to cover his tracks.
And so, he simply laughed it off, attempting to mask the awkwardness of his slip of the tongue. "But there is still one thing I don't quite understand." Michael looked toward Lucifer, his crimson hair resembling a burning flame dancing in the wind.
"If Your Highness can accept Yahweh, why can you not coexist peacefully with Adam?"
"After all, they were both created by God..."
How could Adam possibly compare to Yahweh! Lucifer was just about to retort to Michael's words when, passing by the teleportation array in the Sphere of Saturn, he spotted Samael standing there.
His brow twitched; he immediately sensed that something was amiss. Upon asking, his fears were confirmed: Gabriel had indeed gone to the Grand Cathedral.
"Did His Highness not explicitly tell you not to disturb him?" Michael rubbed his temples, voicing the headache he felt on Lucifer's behalf.
"How long has it been?" Lucifer, however, bypassed Michael entirely and asked directly.
Samael was consumed by anxiety; he had paced the clouds beside the teleportation array nearly flat. Whether the news was good or bad, absolute silence had emanated from the Grand Cathedral. Were it not for Gabriel's specific instructions before leaving—and his own fear that rushing up there unbidden might jeopardize Gabriel's plan—he would have gone up long ago. Now, hearing the Archseraph's inquiry, he glanced outward and replied:
"It has been seven mortal sunsets."
That long?! Lucifer paused in astonishment, then frowned as he cast a glance at Samael—who looked as though he had lost his very anchor. He sighed inwardly, a faint, weary sound, then unfastened the ceremonial sword from his waist and tossed it to Michael.
"I'm going up there."
Just as he was preparing to ascend, the central teleportation array suddenly flared with light, and the indistinct silhouette of an angel gradually came into focus.
"Gabriel!"
Like a gust of wind, Samael dashed past the Archseraph. He embraced the Archangel tightly, his face a mask of relief—a profound gratitude for a treasure lost and now found again, though he himself was scarcely aware of the depth of his own emotion.
[Hebrew Mythology] The Arduous History of Raising a World — by the Great Author "Dan Mu'ai"