Chapter 73: Theft
Just as malevolent magic prepared to insidiously infiltrate the minds of humans, two dark shadows—emerging from the depths of Hell—stealthily made their way toward the realm of Heaven.
They assumed the forms of crows, either blending seamlessly into flocks of birds or using the cover of dark clouds to conceal their silhouettes.
It was not until they had breached the boundaries of the Void that they both reverted to their true forms.
They were none other than Lilith and Mammon.
They wove their way through the constellations, navigating the celestial realm through the very seams of the night.
"Sigh." Walking a few paces behind, Mammon suddenly let out a heavy sigh.
Lilith turned to cast a glance at the young Demon Prince; before a word left her lips, a faint smile—part amusement, part tenderness—had already dawned in her eyes.
"What's the matter? We've made it all the way out here—are you *still* agonizing over it?"
"I'm not agonizing over whether we should have come out or not," Mammon replied. "I'm simply vexed. I thought I understood him, yet—quite contrary to my expectations—I seem to have only succeeded in making him angry."
As he spoke, he took a tentative sniff of the ethereal air surrounding them, then wrinkled his nose in discomfort, unaccustomed to its purity.
"His Majesty would never truly be angry with you; why torment yourself like this?"
Lilith's attention suddenly shifted as she scanned their surroundings; she quickly spotted a patrol of angels approaching. Acting instantly, she grabbed Mammon and pulled him behind a rock formation.
"I just wanted to make him happy," Mammon mumbled, pressed tightly against her in their cramped hiding spot.
"Shh—keep it down! We'll be in deep trouble if we get caught," Lilith hissed, urging him to silence.
She meticulously suppressed her demonic aura—which she had already kept tightly reined in—gathering it inward once more. She did not cease her efforts until she was absolutely certain that she and Mammon appeared no different from the inert stones around them, betraying not the slightest trace of their true nature.
The patrol of angels passed right by them, failing to detect anything amiss within the narrow crevice where they hid.
Lilith let out a soft breath, her expression finally relaxing.
Observing her extreme caution, Mammon looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Big Sis, you're being a bit overly cautious. With their capabilities, they won't be able to spot us; and even if they did, why should we fear them in our current forms?"
"It's *you* who is young and hot-headed—you don't know the first thing about prudence," Lilith shot him a glare. "Heaven is under much stricter lockdown than it used to be; ordinary demons can't get in anymore. The only reason I was able to bring you here is thanks to my past experience—you'd better be grateful! Also, could you please stop calling me 'Big Sis'?"
Mammon paid no heed to her boasting or complaints. He stepped out from behind a rockery, gazing thoughtfully at the surrounding expanse—a realm of eternal night that appeared somewhat desolate.
"Is this Heaven? It's nothing like what I expected."
It bore no resemblance to the resplendent, golden-hued visions he had seen through Lucifer.
He took a few more steps forward, confirming that this entire area was just as barren.
He was instantly overcome with disappointment.
"What the hell? It's practically the same as back home!" he grumbled, feeling thoroughly cheated.
A major reason he had wanted to visit Heaven was to see if the streets were truly paved with gold.
There was nothing of the sort here. As for those glowing mineral ores—Hell had them by the handful. Aside from being used to construct palaces where they would glow in the night, they were utterly worthless.
Besides, he had already finished building his six Demon King Mansions—the construction costs for his own residence had been charged to Lucifer's account—so he had no need to scavenge for building materials anymore.
"At most, it lacks that heavy sulfurous stench you find in Hell," he remarked. "Though, I actually think that smell isn't half bad."
Having grown so accustomed to that scent, its sudden absence actually made him feel as though something were missing.
"This is merely the First Heaven," Lilith replied, though her voice sounded strangely distorted, as if drifting in from a great distance.
Mammon sensed that something was amiss. He turned around only to discover that he had wandered quite far ahead, while Lilith remained standing right where she was.
"Why are you standing all the way back there?" he asked, looking at her with confusion.
"Damn you, Adam!"
Lilith cursed under her breath. Although Adam's fortifications had long since been demolished by Lucifer, the remnants of his walls still blocked her path. She stared at the rubble of the ruined wall, then cast a glance at Mammon, who had successfully crossed the obstacle. "That's not fair," she muttered. It made no sense—why was she unable to pass through, while Mammon strolled right through without a single obstacle?
Could it be that this wall actually recognized her?
"What isn't fair?" Mammon asked, his hearing surprisingly acute.
Lilith shook her head. Fearing that any aggressive action might draw the attention of the angels, she decided against attempting to force her way through.
"I can't get in. You come back out for now."
"Then how did you get in last time?"
Mammon stood his ground, unmoving. The very reason he had begged Lilith to act as his guide was that she possessed prior experience infiltrating Heaven; yet now, she was telling him she couldn't get in?
That was utterly useless.
"That thing wasn't there back then!" Catching the look of disdain in Mammon's eyes, Lilith retorted angrily.
It was both the truth and a lie. When Lilith had invaded Heaven all those years ago, the wall of light had indeed not yet been erected; however, she currently had no idea why the wall was blocking *her* specifically, while completely ignoring Mammon.
"Fine, then I'll just go in by myself."
"You ungrateful little brat," Lilith glared at him.
"Well, whose fault is it that *you* can't get in, Sis?" Mammon waved a hand dismissively, speaking with utter nonchalance.
"I told you already—stop calling me 'Sis'..."
Lilith felt a surge of helplessness. Knowing that he wasn't the obedient sort—or at the very least, wouldn't listen to *her*—she decided not to waste any further breath.
"Grab the Book of Heaven and get out immediately," she admonished him. "This isn't Hell; you need to tread carefully!"
Mammon nodded, a peculiar glint flashing within his pitch-black eyes.
The Cherub Raziel possessed a certain book—a tome in which were recorded all of Heaven's most closely guarded, esoteric arts. Among them was a specific blood-based sorcery, detailing the secrets hidden within the very essence of blood.
That was the objective of their mission—or rather, the sole objective of *his* mission.
After returning from a brief excursion to that city in the Human Realm known as Enoch, Lucifer had once again summoned them all into his presence.
"We *must* obtain it." Within the vast halls of the Pandemonium, the figure of the King of Hell remained shrouded in shadow and obscurity; only his voice—deep, heavy, and resonant—rang out, conveying a will that was utterly absolute and brooked no defiance. "The mysteries of the human body lie hidden within that book; master it, and one gains dominion over the life and death of all mankind."
However, the book resides in Heaven and cannot be seized with ease; obtaining it requires careful, long-term planning.
Yet, none of this was counsel Mammon was willing to heed. From the moment he learned of the book's existence, he resolved to claim it—come what may.
He had been nursing a lingering resentment ever since the Grand Council of Demons, where he had misjudged Lucifer's true intentions.
Since Lucifer desired the book, Mammon was bound to secure it for him.
As for the rumors that Lucifer had once possessed the book—only to cast it aside with utter disdain—what could possibly have prompted such a drastic change in attitude?
Humans were insignificant creatures; for a demon, crushing them to death was no different than crushing an ant. What true accomplishment could there be in holding dominion over the lives and deaths of such mere vermin?
Such questions, however, fell entirely outside the scope of Mammon's concerns.
"Mammon, look out!" At Lilith's sharp cry of warning, a beam of pure white light suddenly coalesced within the crumbling ruins, shooting straight toward Mammon.
The black-haired demon turned his head to look, as if hearing a voice whisper in his ear:
*Let no soul harboring wicked intent enter the Gates of Heaven!*
It was not that the wall of light discriminated arbitrarily; rather, in its eyes, Mammon's *former* yearning for the Golden Palace had not been deemed evil. But the moment he conceived the intent to steal, his true, dark nature could no longer remain concealed.
This was Adam's definition of darkness and evil: not judging evil by outward acts alone, but deeming the evil *intent* itself to be the true sin.
God had sanctioned this philosophy; consequently, the power of faith imbued within the wall remained undiminished. Yet, time is an inexorable force; through the long, silent centuries of waiting, the wall's power had gradually grown sluggish and inert.
Mammon saw through the nature of the attack; with his hands clasped behind his back, he effortlessly dodged the incoming strike.
"It's over," Lilith murmured.
"Don't be such a defeatist, Aunt Lilith!" Mammon licked his lips, a glint of keen interest flashing in his eyes.
"I guarantee you—I'm going to beat this thing."
"Stop toying around and get inside—*now!*" Lilith stared at him, her expression a blend of weary resignation and the profound weight of ages past. "It is bound to draw the angels here. I will distract them for you; as for you—so fast?!"
As if hearing the whistle of arrows tearing through the air, Lilith started in alarm. Gritting her teeth, she called out to Mammon: "The Deity sleeps for no more than two hours at a time. You must be out before then—if it proves impossible, then abandon the mission!"
"Understood." Mammon's eyes narrowed slightly as he swiftly dove into the teleportation array.
Pitch-black demonic energy began to seep upward through the cracks in the formation.
High in the Ninth Heaven, the Deity sensed a disturbance; those cold, golden eyes snapped open in an instant.
An invisible, crushing pressure rippled downward from the Crystal Heaven. Lilith, currently locked in combat with the angels, went rigid; suddenly, she coughed up a mouthful of blood.
"Mammon..." Pinioned by the angels, she found herself utterly immobilized. A pair of long, silver-white boots entered her field of vision; she raised her head to gaze upon that familiar, pristine white figure.
Pure and sharp—just as always, it stirred within her an irresistible urge to destroy.
Turning a deaf ear to the angels' interrogations, she fixed her gaze upon the aloof and haughty Archangel, a wicked smirk curling at the corners of her lips.
"Long time no see, Your Grace Gabriel."
Meanwhile, Mammon was being violently expelled by divine power. He scrambled frantically within the teleportation array, dodging and weaving in a desperate struggle, yet ultimately failed to evade the pursuit of the Deity's divine will.
The divine power tore through his body like a blade, eliciting a howl of agony. He writhed on the ground within the array; the moment a portal of light materialized before him, he threw caution to the wind and lunged through it.
As he had yet to commit any evil deeds, the Deity did not immediately claim his life.
The golden divine will lingered briefly in the Fourth Heaven before dissipating.
The Book of Heaven—it was time to entrust it to humanity.
Thinking this without a trace of emotion, the Deity closed those golden eyes once more, shifted into a different position, and drifted back into slumber.
Mammon tumbled out of the teleportation array, wounded and battered. The thick, pitch-black blood oozing from his body dissolved the moment it touched the ground; clutching his wound, he lay there—pale, trembling, and drenched in sweat. Let alone the fact that he had acquired the power of "Greed" and become a Demon King; never in his entire existence—since the very moment of his birth—had he ever sustained such grievous injuries.
Instantly, his animosity toward Heaven surged to its absolute peak.
Even after emerging from the formation, the sight of the Golden Sacred Path—which he had yearned for day and night—could do nothing to lift his foul mood.
The radiant power of the Solar Heaven surged forth in waves, brilliantly illuminating every single inch of the Fourth Heaven. Yet, for a demon like Mammon—a creature born of the Abyss—this was akin to tossing a fish into a dry rut to bake under the scorching sun. Had he been in good health, it might have been tolerable; but in his current critically wounded state, he was barely better off than a dead fish.
If this continued any longer, he was certain to be reduced to dust and ashes by the sheer intensity of this divine light.
'If I die, there won't be a soul to mourn me,' he thought to himself, and with that realization, his resolve to survive hardened even further.
Dragging his weary limbs, he stumbled along in search of a hiding place, only to be startled by a sudden, unfamiliar sound. His face went even paler than before. He tried to conceal himself, but suddenly, his vision went black.
Then, his body slumped forward uncontrollably—only to be caught and steadied by a helping hand.
"Are you alright?" a voice asked. Mammon felt himself being gently turned over, exposing him fully to the direct, unshielded radiance of the divine light.
'Don't move me... I feel even more nauseous now...' he thought, though he lacked the strength to offer any resistance. As his vision cleared, a familiar face swam into view.
It was a golden-haired angel—adorned with jade pendants and tinkling bells, clad in white robes and wearing a crown—his beautiful features appearing to glow with an inner light.
"Father..."
...?
Haniya gazed down at this unexpected intruder—who had collapsed into his arms and addressed him as "Father"—and a flicker of utter bewilderment crossed his emerald eyes.
Mammon found himself lying upon a soft, comfortable bed, while someone tended to and bandaged the wounds on his arm.
He kept his eyes tightly shut, ensuring that even the rhythm of his breathing remained unchanged. Surrounded by unfamiliar scents and finding himself in a strange environment, even a demon as fearless and audacious as he was compelled to exercise extreme caution.
However, before he could formulate a plan to use this opportunity to glean some information, a gentle voice spoke softly into his ear. "You're awake."
It was a gentle, mild statement. Mammon found he had no choice; abandoning the idea of feigning sleep, he opened his eyes and beheld the very face he had seen just before losing consciousness.
They really did look so alike...
He gazed unblinkingly at the angel, who was currently wrapping bandages around his wounds.
"You're injured. Dark energy kept seeping from the wound, so I couldn't heal it for you."
Well, of course not! He was a demon—how could an angel's power possibly help his wounds heal?
Mammon hurriedly glanced down at his arm; only after confirming that the injury hadn't worsened did he breathe a sigh of relief. Then, he looked back at the angel.
This angel seemed a bit dim-witted... With a quick shift of his eyes, Mammon deduced that the angel likely hadn't recognized his true identity.
However, the fact remained that he had saved him. Being a demon who believed in repaying kindness, Mammon reached into his robes and pulled out a diamond—one so exquisitely polished that it shimmered with a dazzling, liquid brilliance.
It was a gem he had only recently discovered—as beautiful as it was incredibly hard.
"Thank you for saving me. Take this as a token of my gratitude." Mammon had originally intended to keep this gem as a new addition to his hoard of wealth, but now he chose to give it away instead. It was the first time he had ever been so generous.
Haniya accepted the diamond but didn't even look at it. Only then did Mammon notice that the angel was adorned with diamonds from head to toe—every single one of them sparkling with blinding intensity.
Compared to the gems the angel was already wearing, the one Mammon had offered looked utterly unremarkable—like a mere piece of fish-eye stone.
*Give it back to me!* he thought, green with envy. Yet, just then, he heard the angel ask him:
"Where are you from, demon?"
Mammon nearly choked on his own saliva. He coughed a couple of times, utterly dumbfounded.
*He knew I was a demon, yet he saved me anyway?*
"Only demons have black hair."
"Nonsense! Angels have black hair, too!" Mammon retorted. After all, before becoming a Demon King, Belial had been a black-haired Seraphim.
"...You're an angel?"
Gazing into the angel's eyes—so pure and guileless—Mammon found himself nodding, somehow against his own better judgment.
Haniya nodded in return, signaling that he understood. Seeing how easily the angel had been taken in, Mammon let out a heartfelt sigh of astonishment. "You must have never left Heaven."
"God does not permit me to leave," Haniya replied. The angel lowered his lashes; his countenance—so pure that even demons could not bear to harm it—seemed suddenly tinged with sorrow.
"I can take you out."
Acting on pure instinct, Mammon blurted out these words. The moment they left his lips, he wanted to bite his tongue off; yet, seeing the angel break into a radiant smile, he decided it wasn't such a bad idea after all.
"Thank you, but I cannot do anything that defies God's will," Haniya said, politely declining the demon's offer.
Although he had been born only recently and his understanding of the world was still incomplete, he could certainly tell the difference between an angel and a demon.
He did not know why the demon had told such a lie, but sensing no malice behind it, he easily forgave the deception. In fact, Haniya had a far more pressing question on his mind.
"Why did you call me 'Father' earlier? Does your father look a lot like me?"
A flicker of embarrassment crossed Mammon's face. He regarded Lucifer as his father and had even openly confessed these feelings to him once—only to be met with a cruel rejection and utter indifference. Now, faced with this inquiry from someone bearing a striking resemblance to Lucifer, he felt utterly mortified and certainly wasn't about to admit the truth.
"I did no such thing! You must have misheard me."
Haniya was just about to ask more questions when he suddenly fell silent, turning his gaze toward the entrance of the hall.
"Michael is here."
The mention of Michael's name instantly put Mammon on guard. He didn't even notice that the two-winged angel standing before him had failed to use the customary honorifics.
"Is he calling for you?"
"Haniya!" Michael was still outside the hall, yet his voice had already pierced through the outer walls and echoed into the inner chamber.
"I'm going out for a moment; don't you move," Haniya told the demon lying on the bed. "Wait for me to come back."
As if Mammon would actually listen to him! The moment the angel's figure vanished from sight, he immediately darted away, slipping into the shadowy crevices of the room.
Sure enough, a short while later, the very angel who had told him not to move returned—this time accompanied by a red-haired Archangel.
"Oh... he's gone," Haniya remarked, gazing at the now-empty bed. "It would be strange if it *were* still there!" Michael simply couldn't hold back; he felt an overwhelming urge to grab the other angel by the collar, shake him vigorously, and shout: "I *knew* it! With you wandering around in a daze all day long, something like this was bound to happen sooner or later!"
The force of his shouting nearly knocked Haniel off his feet. He turned his head slightly to the side, his expression appearing somewhat downcast.
Seeing him look this way, Michael's tone softened ever so slightly.
"Since you knew he was a demon, why didn't you report it immediately?"
"He was injured," Haniel replied.
"So what if he was injured? Were you planning to treat his wounds yourself?!" As he spoke, Michael slapped his own forehead in exasperation. "That's right—you actually brought him back here to nurse him back to health... while the rest of us were running all over Heaven like fools, searching high and low for an intruder..."
Mammon felt a strange pang of emotion. He really *was* a foolish angel—knowing full well that he was a demon, yet still choosing to save him...
"Don't you cry!"