Chapter 28: The End of the War
This conflict originated in the greed of demons, yet its focus gradually shifted to a power struggle between demons and angels.
Even upon realizing that this entire affair was nothing more than a conspiracy orchestrated by Atreides, Lucifer harbored no excessive resentment toward the Elf King. On the contrary, this recent blow had awakened within him a profound contemplation on the nature of life and death.
At this time, the concept of "death" as such did not exist in the world; angels did not die—they merely ceased to exist.
Angels possessed no true physical bodies; once their core—their very heart—was damaged beyond repair, they would dissolve into scattered particles of light, vanishing from this world forever.
Countless angels had ceased to exist in the course of this war, never to return.
The same held true for the demons.
Only the elves—though few in number—could rely upon the Elf Tree to continuously bring forth new kin.
God had once declared: "As long as the Elf Tree stands, the Elven race shall never perish."
*That* was true divine favor.
Lucifer gave a self-deprecating smile; to think he had once worried that the Elf King had lost God's favor.
In truth, it was *they* who should have been worrying about themselves.
"Regardless of the cost, I must make a plea to God."
God, having perceived the Seraph's thoughts—and knowing he intended to ascend to the Ninth Heaven to petition for an "Angel Tree" for his kind—frowned. Unwilling to endure the formal recitation of the request once more in the Crystal Heaven, He spoke directly:
"Your petition shall not be granted."
"I had quite forgotten that You possess the gift of mind-reading—that, like God Himself, nothing remains hidden from Your sight." Lucifer offered a helpless smile, shaking his head.
"Yet this time—even if it incurs Your displeasure, my Lord—I must speak." He fixed his gaze upon Yahweh. "Angels ought not to be subjected to such treatment."
They had once lived a carefree existence in Paradise; it was only through their bonds of friendship with the elves that they had been dragged into this senseless calamity. Now, having discovered the extent of the Elf King's machinations, how could he possibly swallow such an indignity?
God knew the nature of Lucifer's spirit: loyal and generous, steadfast and humble—all qualities that flowed from his very core—yet he was never one to meekly suffer injustice in silence.
Thus, God offered no further arguments against him, choosing instead to simply state the consequences of such an act. "Even if it meant angels had to leave Heaven and relocate to the mortal realm?"
Lucifer instinctively countered him, "God would never do that to us."
"Heaven knows only temperance and purity; procreation is born of desire. If angels were to harbor the intent to procreate, they could not possibly remain in Heaven."
God spoke dispassionately. Even for the radiant Morning Star, He would make no exceptions; the Nine Heavens were under His divine care, and thus, from the highest sphere to the lowest, all within them must strictly uphold the precepts and virtues.
Yahweh's words were not without merit. Having spent so many years in God's presence, Lucifer understood the true nature of the Supreme Being who reigned over the Crystal Heaven; yet, he still clung to a glimmer of hope.
Angels possessed no capacity for procreation. Unlike the beasts of the mortal realm—which engaged in physical coupling—angels possessed no corporeal bodies; from spirit to form, they were merely pure spiritual energy made manifest. Lucifer had once taken great pride in this fact, yet it meant they lacked the ability to increase the numbers of their own kind.
"No matter what is said, I must at least try."
If the Elves could possess a World Tree of their own—and given that angels had never committed any transgression—surely they, too, deserved to have one.
And even if such a thing were impossible, surely God would find a way to resolve it. It simply *had* to be so.
God gazed upon Lucifer—who looked toward the Great Cathedral with an inexplicable sense of expectation—and a flicker of helplessness crossed His eyes.
He had already told him: such a thing was impossible.
Greed was not a vice exclusive to demons alone; the Arch-Seraph's mind was consumed entirely by thoughts of the angels' future—perhaps a consequence of God having indulged him far too much.
"Leaving that aside for the moment... what exactly is the nature of your relationship with God?" Lucifer sensed Yahweh's disapproval of his stance, yet he had no intention of continuing the debate on that particular subject.
"Are you truly not the Son of God?"
"The Holy Son shall indeed appear—though not yet," God replied. The buds upon the World Tree remained exquisitely tender; the appointed time for the creation of this new being had not yet arrived. Yet, one day it would surely come to pass—and as He spoke, a faint trace of anticipation touched God's voice.
Thus far, no one had managed to attain His own lofty perspective regarding the Eternal Way. Even Lucifer—the one upon whom God had pinned His greatest hopes—remained unable to transcend the mindset of a created being; his thoughts remained focused, above all else, on the rise and fall—the collective glory and peril—of his own kind. "The Son of God?" Lucifer's heart tightened. He pressed Yahweh immediately: "What is the Son of God?"
"The Messiah." A faint smile slowly dawned in Yahweh's golden eyes.
The Messiah is born bearing the burden of saving the world; beneath the Throne, only the Son of God may serve as the Ruler of the Heavenly Kingdom.
"The Messiah emerges to save the world—but who is worthy to shoulder such a task?"
Yahweh merely shook his head, signaling that he did not know. Lucifer—who, despite being held in such high esteem by God, remained merely the Vice-Regent of the Heavenly Kingdom—felt his emotions grow somewhat complex.
Who else could it be?
God is omniscient; in this world today, Yahweh is the only one capable of uttering the very term "Son of God."
If the Son of God were to be—like Yahweh himself—then Lucifer felt he could accept it without objection.
After Lucifer had departed, feeling somewhat wistful and lost, a profound silence settled over the tent; God closed His eyes and rested.
Lucifer had withstood His trial; even upon learning of the existence of a Messiah, his faith remained as steadfast as bedrock—unwavering in the slightest.
Perhaps, when it came to the angels, He need not be overly harsh. Thinking thus, God's form dissolved into shimmering motes of light and vanished within the tent. Without disturbing a single angel or elf, He left the encampment—yet He did not immediately return to the Grand Cathedral.
God walked the mortal realm, gazing upon this land that war had reduced to scorched earth—a land stripped of its former beauty, bearing only the desolate scars of battle.
The lives that had passed were gone forever, yet the yearnings of the living permeated the entire world—
Those of the demons, those of the angels, and those of the elves.
Countless spirits cried out in inquiry:
For what did we fight? For what did we die?
God is inherently perfect and complete, knowing no want; yet beneath the starry canopy, He contemplated the nature of war and the sentiments of the departed souls. For the very first time, He felt—viscerally and firsthand—the depth of their sorrow and their lingering resentment.
Allen's spirit drifted forth from God's being, floating curiously over the ravaged ground. Its ethereal essence lightly brushed against a layer of soil, only to recoil instantly—as if startled by some unseen shock. Then, in a gesture of childlike affection, it twined itself around God's finger, seeking comfort and reassurance.
Gazing upon the small patch of ground that the spirit had swept clean—a pristine space amidst the desolation—God felt a sudden, profound realization dawn within His heart. A land steeped in sin can only be restored to its former state by sowing the seeds of hope. The Deity bent down, scooped up a handful of mortal soil, and returned with it to the Grand Cathedral.
"Why has my Lord brought this mortal soil back?"
The *Book of Genesis* sensed its Master on the throne awakening; observing the mound of yellowish-brown earth hovering directly above itself, it immediately—with a distinct air of distaste—ruffled its pages in an attempt to distance itself from the stuff.
*These things are absolutely filthy.*
The Deity, however, offered no reply. Instead, He simply extended a finger and, much like one might playfully tease a pet, stirred the mound of soil before finally moving it into the domain of the World Tree.
In the year 1627 of the Genesis Era, the Arch-Seraph ascended to the Crystal Heaven to seek an audience with the Deity. Citing the cruelty of war—in which countless living souls were reduced to dust and ash—he earnestly implored the Deity to bestow upon them the Tree of Life.
Yet, the Deity refused him.
"That is a blessing reserved solely for the Elven race."
Upon hearing the Deity's words, Lucifer's heart gave a sudden, anxious lurch; he realized that reality might indeed align with what Yahweh had foretold. Though his heart was heavy with disappointment, and he was just about to voice further pleas, he heard the Deity speak once more.
"Of all the myriad fates in this world, Death alone commands true reverence. Lucifer, do you truly desire that I bestow the fate of eternity upon the Angels?"
He looked up in sudden, delighted astonishment, then immediately bowed even lower in profound reverence.
"My Lord on High, Lucifer is willing to bear any burden, so long as the glory of the Heavenly Kingdom remains undimmed, and its inhabitants are forever freed from the sorrows of life and death."
"Why is joy so fleeting, while sorrow endures for all eternity?" The Deity's whisper sounded like a gentle sigh, a subtle allusion to the greed stirring within the Arch-Seraph's heart.
Lucifer failed to grasp the deeper meaning behind those words; he heard only that the Deity had granted his request.
"Very well, then. It shall be as you desire."
The Deity sat enthroned in majesty, His divine gaze fixed directly upon the lower realms.
"Upon the Sixth Heaven, I shall establish a Minor Cathedral; within it shall reside the Pool of Angelic Reincarnation, from which all fallen Angels may be reborn."
The Deity's voice, ethereal and resonant, instantly swept across the Three Realms. Every Angel, filled with boundless jubilation, knelt in worship toward the Nine Heavens above, offering their gratitude for the Deity's divine boon. Yet, apart from the Angels, the other two races found little cause for celebration. Wailing in agony beneath the violently surging power of Light, the demon fled deep underground. The Elf King gazed up at the sky—rendered incomparably solemn and sacred by the golden radiance—his expression calm, yet tears welled at the corners of his eyes.
God had made His choice.
From this moment forth, there would be no future left for the elven race.
Lucifer could scarcely contain his elation; gazing at his Creator—the One he admired above all others—seated upon the Throne, he once again felt a profound stirring rise from the very depths of his soul.
"Yet, Luci, you must understand: though I have granted Heaven a Pool of Reincarnation, the angel reborn from it will no longer be the same being as before."
"Lucifer understands." Reverent toward death, and never presumptuous in the face of immortality, Lucifer bowed his head and spoke with humility.
Nevertheless, his joy remained irrepressible, overflowing from his heart; the angels were a race favored by God, and he—the Arch-Seraph—was the one most beloved by Him. Once again, he realized this truth with absolute clarity.
God sensed the Arch-Seraph's sentiments, yet He did not reciprocate with equal emotion; instead, He gazed with deep apprehension upon the newly established Pool of Reincarnation.
He could ensure that the angels would forever dwell within the embrace of Heaven—yet this destiny was not immutable.
And sure enough, the moment He announced the establishment of the Pool of Reincarnation, a fissure appeared within the Heart-Core of every single angel.
With their Heart-Cores no longer whole, the possibility of corruption—of falling from grace—had emerged. God's gaze pierced through the veil of time, foreseeing the near future.
Though Hell possessed no Pool of Reincarnation, they would devise their own methods of conversion; it was inevitable that some angels, unable to withstand the allure of temptation, would choose to fall.
His Divine Nature coldly calculated every outcome; yet the merciful aspect of the Sovereign seated upon the Throne could not bear to look any longer upon the Arch-Seraph—who, still blissfully unaware of the looming tragedy, continued to rejoice with unbridled delight.
"My God, Lucifer requests the authority to wield the Scepter of Judgment, that I may bring an end to this senseless war."
"Granted." God acceded to the angel's request, then turned His gaze toward the mortal realm, fixing it upon the Elf King—who stood there in silence, shedding tears.
"Summon the Elf King, Atrides, to appear before Me."
Lucifer paused for a brief instant, but quickly regained his composure: "As You command."
The Elf King... it seemed his time had finally run out. In the year 1650 of Genesis, after several failed attempts, the demons, following a brief lull, launched another all-out attack led by four Archdemons: Agares, Baal, Mephisto, and Azmodan.
They resented the favoritism of the gods in the Nine Heavens and a war erupted, uniting the power of the four Demon Lords.
Heavenly history records this war as the Second Holy War, while the war before the emergence of the Lesser Sanctuaries is called the First Holy War.
This time, the angels were fully prepared. The battle raged, with casualties on both sides.
Lucifer, wielding the Scepter of Judgment, personally led the charge, fighting four against one with equal skill, ultimately defeating the demons.
The demons seemed resigned to their fate; they had mobilized almost their entire force, yet still gained nothing.
Afterwards, friction continued between the two races, large and small, with occasional wars, but none ever reached such a scale.
Although the angels also suffered heavy losses in this war, their ultimate victory was enough to make them proud.
In an instant, the power of Heaven spread even further, and Lucifer's name became known to all; even the demons trembled at his name.
Legends began to circulate that he possessed six-sevenths of the power of God.
You provide the author, Twilight, with a [Hebrew mythology]—the arduous history of a world's creation.