The Archangel's Grudge

The silence in the room seemed to absorb all sound. In the vast, sunless space, dark and quiet, time crawled at a snail's pace.

A man, disheveled and covered in blood, sat on the cold white floor. His wrists were chained overhead while his feet were shackled.

His pathetic figure stood out starkly in the predominantly white room, despite the lack of light, as if to emphasize how lowly and dirty he was there.

The God's Necklace still bound his neck, as Mahendra had been unwilling to remove it from the start. It was a means of self-control, to prevent a repeat of past events.

When he heard light footsteps, Mahendra, half-conscious with hazy eyes, slowly lifted his head to see who was approaching.

It was an angel known as an Archangel. A girl—no, she appeared to be a grown woman of unparalleled beauty. A white gown, like a wedding dress, swept the floor, and her three pairs of silver wings shimmered in the silent darkness.

The Archangel walked toward him, her sharp golden eyes fixed on him. Her gaze was so brilliant and dazzling that it made Mahendra's eyes weep tears of blood.

Once they were close enough, the Archangel paused for a moment, observing the pitiful state of the Devourer Destiny.

Their eyes met, a twisted mix of emotions and indelible memories passing between them. A fusion of vengeance and affection, as if it were all destined.

A long sword appeared in the Archangel's right hand. Simple in form, yet holding immense power. She then pointed the blade at Mahendra's throat.

"You'd be better off dead than to be locked up in such a humiliating state," she said.

Her voice was so gentle, calm, and firm, yet it made the man's heart beat strangely once more. His red eyes flickered after hearing her words.

The corner of Mahendra's lips curled up—a wide grin—as he replied, "Deep down, you just want to kill me."

The chains on his wrists rattled as his hands clenched tightly, his sharp gaze fixed on the white angel. He never lost his smile, even deliberately moving his neck closer to the sword's tip until it was cut.

A drop of blood trickled down the sword's tip on his neck. The look in his sharp, red pupils seemed to mock the sword's owner, who intended to end his life.

"What are you waiting for? Go on, just do it. I don't mind," Mahendra said, his voice a low chuckle.

The curse marks on parts of his body were fading, but they weren't just disappearing. They were converging in one place. The Archangel narrowed her eyes, then tugged on the God's Necklace with her left hand.

"Death is too luxurious for you," the Archangel said, pushing his body away.

The Archangel walked around him and tore off his half-intact black robe. On the upper part of his back, the curse had gathered, forming a pattern resembling a combination of lightning and fire. Its deep black color still held traces of evil aura.

"It's very rude to suddenly tear a man's clothes," Mahendra quipped.

The Archangel then punched the black pattern with all her might. Meanwhile, Mahendra resigned himself, letting the Archangel do it repeatedly. He never complained, only groaning occasionally when her fist struck his old wounds.

Seeing Mahendra's hands clench and tremble, the Archangel immediately stopped hitting him.

His back looked normal at a glance, with the curse gathered in a single spot. However, the attacks from the dozens of gods still wounded him internally. No external wounds were visible.

Only now realizing this, the Archangel once again pointed her blade at the same spot on Mahendra's neck, where the scratch was still unhealed.

Gasping for air, Mahendra asked the Archangel in a very low voice, "Still hesitant?"

His red eyes glinted with arrogance. The enraged Archangel gripped her sword tightly and swung it from the side. A gust of wind followed the blade's movement, feeling cold and painful. Mahendra thought the Archangel would finally do it, but she didn't.

"What's wrong?" Mahendra's expression changed. He was displeased that the blade had stopped again, just a centimeter from his neck.

The Archangel sighed. After casting her sword aside, which then turned into silver particles, she left the place without a single glance back, leaving him to stare at her exposed back.

***

After leaving him, the Archangel headed to the main hall—a place where the highest gods gathered to discuss matters.

Unlike the place where Mahendra was imprisoned, this main hall was very bright. The room received ample sunlight, and the blue sky was an easy sight from there.

"The Archangel has bothered to come here. Please, tell us what you wish," Morpheus spoke up, inviting the newly arrived Archangel to speak.

"I am not at ease letting that evil being continue to live. You've even deigned to use the Purgatory Cages just to hold him there."

"Are you saying you want to kill him?"

"Yes. If he rises again, I won't hesitate to kill him again," the Archangel said with a firm voice and a sharp gaze.