On Azazel's words—"Then let's make peace"—the entire room fell into stunned silence. For a few precious seconds, no one dared to speak. Even the air itself seemed to hesitate, suspended between disbelief and hope.
Michael was the first to react. The leader of Heaven's remaining Seraphs let out a soft chuckle, his golden wings shimmering faintly under the light.
"Yes," he said with a warm smile, "I was planning to propose the same. Peace between the Devils and Grigori is long overdue. If we continue our relationship as it is now, it will only harm the world further. God and the original Maou are no longer with us—clinging to the hatred of the past will only lead to ruin."
His voice carried the serenity of Heaven itself.
Michael—an archangel born from pure faith—was now the one advocating peace.
Azazel's lips curved into a grin before a short, amused laugh escaped him.
"Ha! The ever-righteous Michael finally speaks about peace instead of divine judgment. The man who once only said 'God, God, and God'… has changed quite a bit."
Michael didn't deny it. His expression turned somber.
"...I have lost much. We all have. But there is no meaning in seeking what is no longer there. Our duty remains—to guide humanity. We Seraphs share the same will: to watch over the children of God, to guide them, and to ensure that faith does not fade, even without His presence."
Azazel tilted his head, his tone teasing yet faintly respectful.
"Careful, Michael. Talk like that and you might just 'fall,' you know? Though… you've managed to stabilize Heaven's system well. It's a different world now. Much different from when we fell."
Sirzechs nodded in agreement.
"It's the same for us Devils. Even without the original Maou, we've rebuilt ourselves to survive. Another war would only bring extinction. The underworld cannot withstand another great war."
"Exactly." Azazel's grin faded as he folded his arms. "If another war breaks out, all three factions will be annihilated. And worse, humanity will be dragged into it. The world itself might collapse. War isn't an option anymore."
His playful tone was gone now. The man before us was not just the leader of the Grigori—he was a scholar, a realist who had seen too much of death and destruction.
"Do you think a world without God is wrong?" he asked quietly, spreading his arms. "Do you think a world without Him will decay? Look around. You and me—we're still here. The world still turns. Life continues."
For the first time since the meeting began, his words felt… human.
"The world moves even without a God," he said simply.
Hearing that, I was happy for some reason. A smile formed without my knowledge.
Why was I happy? I don't know.
As the talks continued, the mood slowly eased. The heavy tension that had once filled the air now began to dissipate. They discussed the balance of power, the management of territories, and the cooperation needed to prevent further conflicts.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sirzechs leaned back.
"Then, that concludes our main discussion."
A collective sigh of relief filled the room. It had already been over an hour since the conference began. Even the leaders looked visibly less tense.
Grayfia moved gracefully, serving tea to everyone with flawless precision. The faint aroma of the blend she brewed filled the room.
Michael accepted his cup, then turned his calm gaze toward me.
"Now then, Sekiryuutei-dono," he said with a small smile, "we have reached a good conclusion regarding peace. But I would like to hear your opinion as well—yours and the Hakuryuukou's."
Both Vali and I straightened.
Vali smirked first. "I don't care for politics. If peace means I get stronger opponents from time to time, then I'm fine with it."
Typical Vali.
When all eyes turned to me, I hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Peace sounds good to me. I don't want to see people I care about dying because of old grudges."
Then, as the topic began to shift, something tugged at my thoughts—Asia.
"Michael," I said suddenly, my tone sharper than usual. "I have a question. Was it really necessary for Asia to be exiled from the Church? Couldn't there have been a better solution? If I judge based on faith and kindness, she's far purer than most priests or bishops I've ever heard of."
The room went quiet again. Asia flinched beside me, her eyes wide.
Michael sighed deeply. "Asia Argento… Her case was a tragedy, not an act of malice. At the time, Heaven was in disarray. God's death left the system unstable, and fear spread among the clergy. Her ability—'Twilight Healing'—was considered too divine, too powerful. The humans under our care acted out of fear and ignorance, not divine command."
"So she was punished for being too kind," I said coldly.
Michael shook his head softly. "No. She was punished by people who couldn't understand her kindness. That is our failure, not hers. For that, I am deeply sorry."
Beside me, Asia smiled gently, shaking her head. "It's all right, Michael-sama. I'm happy now. I have friends… a home… and Buchou."
Xenovia added with a smirk, "Same here. I'd rather swing my sword for my friends than follow empty orders."
Their words lightened the atmosphere again, but it didn't last long.
Azazel, with his usual grin, leaned forward. "Well, speaking of Asia, one of my subordinates was the one who killed her, right? Raynare—what a mess she made."
Then—
Clack.
A faint sound echoed, and suddenly, everything stopped.
The steam from the teacups froze midair. The faint flicker of candlelight halted. Even the movements of wings and hair in the air were suspended.
Time itself had stopped.
And in that eerie stillness, I realized that the fight had begun.
~~~
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