Chapter 392 (1): Humans Come in Ranks, and Heaven has a Hierarchy.
A powerful wind threw the researchers off their feet, slamming them into the wall behind. They woke up shouting in pain.
Roel, the institute director, shook his ringing head, the back of his head throbbing painfully. He tried to think back and figure out what had happened. When he heard the ringing laughter, he looked up and saw the laboratory in ruin. ‘Christian’ was laughing while swinging his arms by the stone platform, the seams on his body distorted by his bulging muscles. He appeared to have lost his sanity.
Only then did Roel remember that by the end of the ritual, a powerful energy had burst out of Christian, wreaking havoc and knocking everyone out. Before losing consciousness, Roel had thought that the ritual was likely a failure.
Now, though, Christian was laughing with a booming voice, sounding more arrogant than he had ever been. The ritual was clearly a success.
“Roel, I did it!”
“Congratulations, General. It’s a real miracle.” Roel picked up Christian’s shirt and uniform, offering them respectfully. “How do you feel, General?” he asked carefully. “Do you feel any discomfort? If so, please do tell me. We’ll do another full-body examination.”
“No, I’m fine. And...” Wayne put his shirt and uniform on, cracking his knuckles. “Do you see this? It’s power, power that I’ve been dreaming of having!”
You’re getting ahead of yourself, General!
Roel didn’t voice his thoughts. He knew that this was the normal reaction after gaining great power. As Christian craved progress more than anyone, it was only natural for him to overreact a little.
“General, we must examine you thoroughly as per the rules. Only with the data collected would the Führer see that you’re a changed man, and only then would he utilize you to your full potential. Isn’t that right?”
“You’re right. Where’s the punching machine? I’m gonna break ten!”
Wayne put his hands on his hips and laughed, convincingly playing a violent man lacking in self-awareness after a sudden acquisition of power.
No one suspected that Christian had been replaced. Two Gold-ranked mages were stationed on the first floor, so not even a fly could enter, much less a human.
His personality change could be explained by the influence of the Seven Deadly Sins on a demon vessel, so Roel didn’t suspect a thing. “You’ve gained power you’ve dreamed of having, General,” he said enviously. “Since it’s you, the Führer will surely commend you in person.”
Wayne’s eyes lit up. He had been wondering how he should meet Hidler, but the opportunity presented itself.
Hidler was a busy man. As Prussia’s brain, he had a full schedule. A division leader of the SS wouldn’t have been personally summoned by him even after luckily becoming a demon vessel. Christian, however, had once taken a bullet for Hidler. His lack of power had been the reason he wasn’t in Hidler’s inner circle.
Now that he had gained power, Hidler wouldn’t ignore a loyal subject like him. By awarding him and assigning him an important role in person, Hidler could create an appealing narrative.
First, though, the report had to be submitted and go through all the red tape until it reached the chancellery of the New Reich.
“I know you’re in a hurry, General, but please have some patience. The researchers in charge of compiling data have gotten off work. The report won’t be done until tomorrow night.”
“Wake them up and tell them to keep working. Our country is rising ever higher. How could they go to sleep at a time like this?”
Wayne widened his eyes. “Anyone who doesn’t work overtime tonight will be seen as a disloyal sinner of the country! I’ll execute them with a shot on behalf of Prussia and the Führer!”
“...”
***
Projection of the Abyss.
A massive castle of darkness hovered at the edge of despair, its silhouette barely visible in the dim firelight. Cracks climbed along the stone slabs that comprised the castle walls, inscribed with the text of the Divine Comedy of the Seven Deadly Sins. It represented the source of myriad sins and pain.
Leading to the front entrance of the castle was a staircase lined by columns, which burned with twisted hellish fire and was enveloped in black smoke. The air was permeated with the pungent smell of sulfur.
Between the columns were rows of rusty chains and torture devices, with barely visible spots of dried blood and scattered pieces of remains.
A ghostly, howling chill swept across the castle, shaking the hellish fire. Tragic screams pierced through the air, and low moans boomed. The strange sounds of interrogation and laughter could also be heard.
All the different components created a painting of Hell. Anyone looking at it would feel suffocated, their entire body seized by an intangible pressure. It was as if ghostly hands had reached out of the painting to strangle the beholder.
Clack!
On the stone staircase, clear footsteps resounded.
Hestia and Derrida folded their wings and walked on their feet. The projection of Hell was detrimental to beings from Heaven. Being on the enemy’s turf, the two reincarnated angels were having difficulties since the energy they used up couldn’t be replenished. Derrida suggested that they walk to conserve energy in case they ran into one of the Seven Demon Lords, and a fight inevitably broke out.
If Wayne were here, he would turn around and run when he heard the new flag that Derrida raised. Even if the Seven Demon Lords weren’t here, they would jump out of the bushes just to prove Derrida right.
Hestia, on the other hand, was eager to banish the Seven Demon Lords back to Hell.
She was no fool. She simply concluded that it would be impossible for the Seven Demon Lords to descend fully to the human world with the seal on Hell remaining stable. Even if seven of them jumped out of the bushes, they would have descended through flawed vessels. There would be nothing to fear.
“This is the projection of the Abyss, and there may be projections of the demon lords. In that case, it means that they are going to open the Gate of Hell in Berlo. We must destroy this place to eliminate the risks before the actual crisis happens.”
“Could you tell which demon lord it is?”
“Not yet...”
They climbed hundreds of steps up the stone staircase, leaving two trails of footprints, mixing black sludge with tainted blood.
The closer they were to the castle of darkness, the greater the pressure they felt. Heaven’s holy intent was under serious restriction here.
It wasn’t all bad, however. Derrida’s awakening was clearly accelerating, and he just needed a hint to remember his real name in Heaven.
Dark wind blew over, making the hellish fire on the stone columns whistle. Hestia’s heart clenched. She smelled demons. She held her sacred lance horizontally before her, her eyes radiating blinding golden light.
“Such familiar energy. We must have met...”
A black-robed figure emerged from the door to the castle like an unpredictable phantom. With a single step, they traversed over a hundred stairs.
Hovering above Hestia and Derrida, he looked down with a joyous smile. “Two reincarnated angels. You knew this was a projection of the Abyss, yet you entered. How bold!”
“You’re...” Hestia observed the figure and corresponded the energy to the sin. She said slowly, “Wrath!”
“So we do know each other...”
The figure’s long robe burned away in flames, revealing the deformed, wild physique underneath.
Wrath was three meters tall with a strong build in the shape of an upside-down triangle. Though his body was entirely covered in black hair, well-defined muscles were still visible. His eyes glinted red, his mouth lined with sharp fangs. His ears were elongated and thin. His long, powerful limbs ended in sharp claws.
He was a werewolf.
Werewolves were one of Wrath’s representative creatures. Usually, the Lord of Wrath manifested in the form of great dragons since their presence was inherently strong; a wolf, on the other hand, seemed more like a lackey than a leading figure.
Vampires and werewolves had once existed in the Chosen Land. They were respectively Pride’s and Wrath’s vassals. After Heaven sealed Hell, the Church of Heavenly Father erased what remained of Hell in the human world, eliminating all the hellish creatures in one go.
Since then, werewolves and vampires only ever existed in knight stories, and their images and dispositions were determined at the authors’ discretion. The more serious stories featured werewolves and vampires as villains, while the less serious ones had them falling in love with their food.
Imagine them saying that their love interests smelled good to them! The implications!
Wrath didn’t recognize Hestia. Frowning, Hestia said her name in Heaven, “Throne angel, Frey.”
Humans came in different ranks, and Heaven was an organization with a clear hierarchy.
The top figure was the Heavenly Father, a dad to everyone. Only with His existence could Heaven exist. His status would remain unchallenged.
Following Him, the angels were divided into three tiers: upper, middle, and lower tiers. The upper-tier angels were the Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones. The middle-tier angels were the Dominions, Virtues, and Powers. The lower-tier angels were the Principalities, Archangels, and Angels.
The four chief angels were known as the Śārim, all of them Seraphim. They ranked the highest among the upper-tier angels, their status second only to Heavenly Father.
Hestia/Frey was also among the upper-tier angels, making her a high-ranking manager.
Most clergy members of the Church of Heavenly Father would become Archangels after entering Heaven, while those with greater connections would become Principalities. Only the truly talented ones could skip the ladder and become Powers, among the middle-tier angels.
The regular angels were mass-produced vassals with no wings. They either became cannon fodder of the legion of angels or served the upper angels as servants.
“Oh, it’s you. I remember you.” The vicious wolf’s eyes flickered with ferocious crimson light. “Reincarnated angels, why are you in the human world?”
“To eliminate you!!”
Hestia unfurled her wings, unleashing sweeping golden light with her Sacred Lance of Heaven. She wasted no time on chit-chat.
There was nothing to talk about. It had been years, and the demons had numerous excuses for descending to the human world, including for fun or for love. They had made every excuse imaginable and unimaginable to the angels. At the end of the day, however, the demons wanted nothing but to open the Gate of Hell and turn the human world into a second Hell.
“You have guts...”
Claws sprang from Wrath’s fingers. He caught the lance piercing toward his face with one hand, and the Seven Deadly Sins clashed with the Golden Law. Both he and Hestia got knocked away.
Hestia offset the violent impact with the flickering glow shrouding her. Clutching her lance, she charged again.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
The two collided, exchanging over a hundred moves in no time. Volatile energy approached the breaking point, booming as it rippled across the area.
A golden arrow shot toward the castle of darkness. Following a piercing dragon roar, a metallic dragon flapped its massive wings and hovered above the castle with increasing speed. It attacked the castle with a pillar of light. As soon as it shot down, the light hit a black defensive barrier and rippled outward.
That’s the place!
Hestia speculated that the Gate of Hell was hidden in the palace, so she manipulated the dragon to bombard the place as she fought Wrath, stopping him from going back to the castle to defend the gate opening site.
I’ve got this!
After another round of intense clashes, Hestia had exhausted half of her energy. The defense around the castle was close to falling apart. It would go out at any time like a candle in the wind. The energy loss was more than worth it.
Soon, though, she realized something was wrong.
‘Wrath’ had been patient and composed, not losing his temper even once... That wasn’t like Wrath at all.
Boom!!
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