## The Archangel of Death
"An Archangel?"
Raon's eyes snapped wide as he rose abruptly from his seat.
'Could it truly be...?'
Despite their celestial titles, the Archangels who had previously descended to this realm had aligned themselves with the most depraved of villains, Derus Robert. The mere mention of another one surfacing sent a freezing chill down his spine, sparking a dark suspicion that Derus Robert might have somehow evaded his end.
'No.'
Raon bit his lip, firmly dismissing the thought.
'He is gone.'
He was certain because he had personally delivered the strike that severed both the physical form and the very soul of Derus Robert. Death was absolute. Furthermore, since he had also eliminated Raphael—the Archangel tasked with restoration and rebirth—there was no divine conduit left to pull Derus Robert back from the void.
-I witnessed it as well.
Wrath peered over his shoulder, his blue eyes glowing with certainty.
-That wretch’s existence was extinguished then. There is no doubt.
He gave a solemn nod, signaling that Raon needn't dwell on such ghosts.
'Understood. That has to be the case.'
Exhaling a thin, controlled breath, Raon blinked and regained his composure.
"Tell me, has there been any mention of Derus Robert in these reports?"
He squeezed his hands into fists, fighting to keep his voice steady as he uttered that hated name.
"N-no, my Lord!"
Chad, the leader of the Shadow Agents, gestured emphatically.
"We have found no sign of Derus Robert anywhere!"
He lifted his chin with conviction, swearing that the villain’s name hadn't surfaced even once in their investigations.
"I see."
Raon allowed the stale air to leave his lungs in a slow, heavy draw.
'Right. If his name hasn't appeared, I shouldn't let paranoia take hold.'
Though the nagging fear of Derus Robert’s survival occasionally haunted him, the immediate priority was the reported Archangel. These beings possessed enough raw power to lay waste to the entire continent single-handedly.
"What is the identity of the Archangel that has emerged?"
Raon suppressed the heat flickering in his chest and looked down at Chad.
"The name remains a mystery for now. However..."
Chad glanced back at his scrolls, swallowing hard against a dry throat.
"Based on the accounts of their actions and a physical grace that defies human limits, the Shadow Agents are certain it is an Archangel!"
His grip tightened on the parchment, crumpling the edges as he insisted that no mortal could achieve what this being had.
-Impossible deeds? Rubbish!
Wrath scowled, clearly rankled by the mere talk of these heavenly intruders.
"Go on. Describe these deeds."
Raon requested the specifics of the suspect's activities before settling back onto the throne.
"The entity first appeared within the Kingdom of Sarion, situated between the central and southern regions," Chad began, licking his lips nervously. "Utilizing a transcendent, noble beauty that far surpasses any human standard, he infiltrated the highest circles of society. In an instant, the nobility and the royal court were completely enthralled."
"The social elite?"
Raon’s brow furrowed at the mention of such a public venue.
"Indeed! He moved straight into high society. Once he established ties with the royals and the lords, he began disseminating knowledge and sorcery that should not exist in this era. He speaks of the hidden histories of fallen empires and lost kingdoms—secrets buried by time—and teaches forbidden magic capable of turning the impossible into reality!"
Chad nodded fervently, noting that only a being who had witnessed the passage of eons could possess such insight.
"By resolving the private crises and ancient mysteries of the ruling class, the Archangel has claimed not just their loyalty, but their very souls. His overwhelming charisma and intellect have allowed his shadow to stretch beyond Sarion into neighboring domains. At this moment, he is being deified—worshipped as a living god by the masses."
The agent let out a tired sigh, as if the reality of his own report was difficult to fathom.
"If these accounts hold weight..."
Raon traced the line of his jaw thoughtfully.
"It is undoubtedly an Archangel."
The combination of ethereal beauty, forgotten lore, and world-defying magic pointed to only two possibilities: an Archangel or a Great Demon King. Since none of the Demon Kings he knew operated in such a manner, the conclusion was obvious.
"Yet, how is it that an event of this scale is only reaching us now?"
Between the Shadow Agents and the connections of the Black Market, Zieghart’s intelligence network was vast. It was strange that such a massive shift had stayed under the radar.
"M-my deepest apologies. However..."
Chad lowered his head in shame.
"Because the Archangel was resolving the most sensitive, private scandals of the nobility, the information was guarded with absolute secrecy. Even among those who have met him, each believes they share a unique, private bond with the being and they have kept it hidden from one another."
"Secrets and scandals..."
Raon’s eyes narrowed as he processed the strategy.
'That explains the silence.'
If the relationship was built on the leverage of hidden shames and private desires rather than simple diplomacy, it was only natural for it to remain in the dark. Whoever this Archangel was, they were playing a very sophisticated game.
"Furthermore..."
Chad’s expression darkened as he prepared to deliver the most shocking detail.
"All of this has transpired with terrifying speed—in less than two months. It is a pace that defies logic."
He groaned softly, remarking that never in recorded history had a single entity expanded their influence so aggressively.
"Summarizing the evidence..."
Raon flicked his finger, and the documents in Chad’s hand rose into the air, gliding across the room into his own palm.
"It is certainly one of them."
Solving human woes with primordial wisdom and forbidden arts left little room for doubt.
"However, if he is entrenched with royalty and high-ranking nobles, we cannot strike blindly."
Raon nodded slowly, his hand resting on the arm of the throne.
"Continue the surveillance. I will handle this personally."
Against an Archangel with such seductive power, even a Grandmaster or a Transcendent might find themselves ensnared rather than victorious. Just as Glenn always took the front line against the world's greatest threats, it was Raon’s responsibility to intervene.
"Understood!"
A visible wave of relief washed over Chad at the news that Raon would take charge.
"I will finalize the preparations immediately!"
He bowed and hurried out of the chamber, intent on gathering every scrap of remaining data.
'Wrath.'
Raon leaned back into the depths of the throne, mimicking Glenn’s composed posture, and addressed the monarch within.
'Do you recognize this one? Who is he?'
As the Sovereign of the Devildom and a natural enemy of the heavens, Wrath was the most likely to identify an Archangel specializing in the manipulation of mortals.
-A charmer who ensnares through beauty...
Wrath rubbed his round chin with a pudgy hand.
-Yes. I know exactly which one has descended.
He nodded, the identity clear in his mind.
-That arrogant bastard...
Wrath’s lip curled in a sneer of pure irritation.
-That is Sariel, the Archangel of Death and Dominion.
***
"Gasp... huff!"
A man in fine, aristocratic robes sprinted through the shadows of the narrow streets, his lungs burning.
"He's a monster! A demon in a scholar's mask!"
Though the alley behind him was empty, he kept glancing over his shoulder with wide, terrified eyes.
"I have to... right now..."
Despite his exhaustion, the nobleman didn't slow down. He avoided the main thoroughfares that would have led him directly home, instead weaving through a labyrinth of back alleys to lose any potential tail before finally reaching his grand estate.
'I have to warn Father.'
The man bit his lip, fueled by a desperate resolve, and threw open the heavy doors of the mansion.
'He needs to know he isn't a sage—he’s a beast that preys on us.'
The world might view this being as a holy savior across Sarion and beyond, but he knew the truth: the "sage" was a demonic horror.
"Where is my father?"
He barked the question the moment he stepped into the foyer.
"In... in the drawing room, sir," a maid stammered, clutching a bundle of linens as she pointed the way.
"Whew!"
The nobleman took a final, shaky breath and burst into the reception room.
"Father! There is something life-altering I must—! ...Huh?"
The words died in his throat. His knees turned to water and his lips began to twitch.
"Ah! You've returned!"
Seated beside his father—the Prime Minister of the Sarion Kingdom—was the very nightmare he was fleeing.
He had been certain he wasn't followed. He couldn't fathom how the creature had arrived before him, and his entire frame began to shudder.
"Welcome home, Lord Fripan."
The being known as the Dark Sage, the supposed voice of God. The entity that had dismantled and reconstructed high society in a mere sixty days offered a smile that froze Fripan’s blood.
He had midnight-black hair and eyes the color of fresh blood. There was an ethereal, haunting quality to him that seemed to pull at one's very consciousness. He smiled at Fripan with chilling grace.
"Yes, please. What was it that you were so urgent to share?"
His father gestured to the chair across from them, his tone light and encouraging.
"I... I..."
Fripan stood frozen, caught in a panicked limbo between fleeing and collapsing.
"Why the hesitation? The Dark Sage is here to provide guidance for any problem."
The Prime Minister let out a hearty, genuine laugh, telling his son to place his full confidence in Sariel.
"You flatter me, Prime Minister. It is a humble duty," the demon replied with practiced modesty. Then, he turned his gaze—slow, heavy, and bored—toward Fripan.
"Huff..."
The moment Fripan’s eyes met those crimson orbs, he felt a sickening jolt, as if his soul were being pried apart. Those weren't the eyes of a man. They weren't even the eyes of a predator. They were the eyes of something ancient and malevolent looking to possess the world.
'I can't let this happen!'
If he stayed silent, his father and every noble in the land would be devoured. He had to scream the truth.
"F-Father! That thing... it isn't human!"
Fripan forced his shaking hand upward to point at the guest.
"I saw it! I saw him crush the First Prince like an insect! I saw him tear the soul from the Princess and play with it! He is a monster that views us as nothing but livestock!"
He shrieked the horrors he had witnessed in the palace, begging his father to run.
"Crushing the prince... toys with the princess's soul..."
Fripan’s father tilted his head slowly, a look of mild confusion on his face.
"And what is the issue with that?"
Despite his position as the kingdom's highest official, the Prime Minister blinked as if the statement carried no weight at all.
"Our nation, the surrounding lands—everything was shaped by the Sage. In fact, isn't the Sage the architect of this entire world?"
The Prime Minister wore a distorted, hollow smile, suggesting that the universe existed solely for Sariel’s pleasure.
"F-Father?"
Fripan recoiled, gasping at the alien expression on his father's face—a look he had never seen in all his years.
"It would seem so."
The demon let out a mesmerizing laugh and stood up. As their gazes locked, Fripan felt his limbs turn to lead. He was paralyzed.
"Hmm."
The Prime Minister simply took a sip of his tea, watching the Dark Sage with admiration, not even casting a glance toward his terrified son.
"You... you monster..."
"Peace, child."
Sariel crossed the room with fluid, predatory elegance and rested a hand on Fripan’s shoulder.
"I am going to grant you entry into a realm of bliss that no mortal has ever tasted."
As the Archangel's red lips curled into a final, wicked arc, Fripan's world plunged into total darkness.
