Yahweh refused without surprise, rejecting Lucifer's marriage proposal with the same casual indifference he might use to decline dinner.
He neither feigned shock nor showed overt resistance. It was precisely this normalcy that made his reaction so abnormal.
Lucifer could easily imagine the expression on Metatron's stern, Seraphim face if he were to introduce a witch. But Yahweh didn't even raise an eyebrow at this sudden bombshell.
Seeing his intended effect fail to materialize, the Demon King—who had been genuinely trying to arrange the marriage, albeit with a hint of mischief—felt both bored and puzzled.
"May I ask why?"
More than the unsurprising outcome, he was curious about Yahweh's reasons for refusal.
"If you're concerned about her chastity, I assure you her body remains pure." Though Lucifer had teased countless mortals in dreams, he considered it mere childish games from her immature days. "I watched Lilim grow up. She's a straightforward and bold girl, quite lovely. I couldn't bear to see her end up like her father..."
"Bruce was heartbroken over you for nearly a millennium. It was I who freed him from that despair, or you'd have another burden to carry." He glanced at Yahweh, casually chiding him for his heartlessness.
"When I say I'm serious about being a matchmaker, I mean it. After all, we demons..." As if casually, he flicked an invisible speck of dust from his middle finger.
"never joke about matters of the heart."
God paid no attention to his small gesture. Whether the oath was false or the words were lies, it made no difference to Him.
"Do you see that stone over there?" He pointed out the window.
Lucifer looked outside and immediately spotted a smooth, black stone.
"What about it?"
"Would you feel affection for that stone?"
"How could that be the same!" Lucifer frowned, surprised that Yahweh would compare Lilim to a stone.
"No need to deny it. What you find absurd now is the most accurate description," God said.
Just as a person wouldn't fall in love with a roadside stone, God would never develop special feelings for any of His creations.
"If measured by worldly values, I likely have none of what you call love, let alone affection."
"Therefore, don't waste your efforts on me, and I won't go with you to Hell."
Lucifer fell silent, realizing that the expression on Yahweh's face as He spoke of lacking love was the same as when He had told the angel Haniya that He wouldn't kill him.
Hatred and love were both intense emotions, yet Yahweh seemed naturally devoid of such feelings.
To Him, both love and hate were no different than a stone—as cold and distant as the Ninth Heaven... as distant as He Himself.
Lucifer didn't want to see this side of Yahweh, or rather, he didn't want to be near Him when He was like this.
He could find no trace of the Creator God in the heavens above.
This made him feel like an outsider.
"Let's make a bet," he suddenly said. Seeing Yahweh turn to look at him, he inverted the candelabrum into the pool of wax before continuing.
"I will find someone who can fall in love with a stone. If I succeed, it means your words are invalid, and you must grant me one condition."
The God refused such a senseless and trivial wager, asking what it had to do with humanity.
He had used humans as an analogy simply because they were the most numerous species in nature and possessed the greatest potential for creation.
But Lucifer ignored him, leisurely spreading his hands.
"If such a person truly doesn't exist, what do you fear about betting with me?"
Seizing on the loophole in the God's words, the Demon King was determined to create an opportunity where none existed. The word "impossible" was not in his vocabulary. He wanted to demonstrate his omnipotence to Yahweh at every opportunity.
The God, looking at the overconfident Demon King, decided he needed a lesson.
"And if you lose?"
"Then I will grant you one wish."
The God had no need for wishes, so He replied, "The loser will be punished. They will confront their deepest fear and lose what they hold most dear."
"You are truly greedy, Yahweh," Lucifer chuckled softly. "Do you want my Hell?"
For Lucifer, Hell, the realm he had painstakingly nurtured to its current power, was his most precious possession.
"You can share it with me without resorting to such methods," he declared generously.
"A promise?" God asked, his eyes half-closed, his expression cold and enigmatic, as if holding a hidden meaning.
"A promise!"
The Creator God's words were absolute truths. Under such a supreme being's influence, both angels and demons held their spoken words in the highest regard. The greater one's power, the stronger their control over language became, making it nearly impossible even for demons to easily break a contract.
They set a date for fulfilling the agreement and specified the terms: within twenty years, they would find someone who genuinely loved the stone.
"By the way, what is your criterion for judging love?" the Demon King asked abruptly.
"Endurance."
"Just that?" Lucifer was momentarily stunned, surprised by Yahweh's seemingly casual definition of love.
But vigilance quickly arose: "How long is 'enduring'?"
"If I see love at the moment of encounter, you win," God replied coldly. The "endurance" test wasn't about duration, but about constancy.
Yahweh seemed uninterested in wordplay, offering such straightforward terms that even the shameless Satan felt like he was bullying an honest man. Yet despite this, he couldn't resist the urge to tease.
Heart.
"Even if it's love for just a single second?" According to Yahweh, as long as he saw it as love at that moment, there were countless ways to manipulate it.
"Even if it's been love for twenty years." God gazed at him steadily. Whether through magic to forcibly alter preferences or subconscious manipulation, nothing could change the fundamental instincts He had bestowed upon humanity.
Not lasting. Not eternal.
As long as this remained unchanged, Lucifer could never win the bet.
For God held the laws of the world in His hands. Without His intervention, the world itself would correct everything.
If that were to change... the Creator's golden eyes lowered slightly. Perhaps even He might find joy in that.
Sensing his seriousness, Lucifer couldn't help but abandon his playful demeanor.
"Since you take our bet so seriously, I won't treat it lightly either."
Twenty years—enough time to cultivate even a rock-loving person from scratch. Yahweh's unwavering confidence only fueled Lucifer's competitive spirit. He declared:
"I will find it. Not only that, but I will show you how the love that blooms on stone can strip a person of reason and reveal their madness."
"True love is that which overcomes all obstacles, that which is pursued without hesitation. On this, I dare say my understanding of love surpasses yours by far."
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed outside the hall. Lucifer transformed back into a large black cat and leaped onto the rafters.
"I'll come back for you, Yahweh," the black cat said, turning to pluck a golden bell from its neck and toss it down. God caught the bell, its intricate craftsmanship making it utterly silent.
"Farewell. The day we fulfill our promise is drawing near."
As the words faded, the temple doors burst open, sunlight slanting into the hall. A golden-haired angel stood there, panting heavily.
"Yahweh! I smell the darkness!"
The black cat meowed and darted past the angel in broad daylight. God watched the creature's effortless grace, then looked at Haniya, who was warily scanning his surroundings but remained completely oblivious to the darkness slithering past his feet. For a moment, God didn't know what to say.
Lucifer seemed to have had quite an experience in Hell.
As the cat exited the human-made temple, the gopher wood doors, radiating sanctity, shuddered as he passed, as if expressing their disdain for the Demon King. He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to gaze at the two lifelike cherubim carved above the door.
The angels wouldn't have had the leisure for such a thing, nor would they have failed to detect him initially and then sensed his presence from afar.
Only one person could have done this: the Messiah.
Unable to bear seeing him and Yahweh together, the Messiah had called the golden-haired angel back.
Snow-white claws materialized in the black cat's palm. With three swift, *shing* sounds, he tore the doors apart before swaggering away.