I'm The Devil - Chapter 277

Chapter 277: “May Your Souls Rest In Peace. ”

As the sun began its descent, painting the horizon in hues of amber and crimson, Bast stood atop a desolate hill, her silhouette sharp against the fiery sky. Her arms were folded, her midnight robes billowing gently in the evening breeze. Her sharp, golden eyes remained fixed on the distant waters of the Red Sea, now calm and serene as if they had not just been a site of devastation. A faint smirk played at her lips, though there was no triumph in her gaze—only a strange, quiet mix of satisfaction and unease.

The soft crunch of footsteps behind her broke her reverie. She did not turn but tilted her head slightly, a subtle acknowledgment of the presence she already knew was there. The faint scent of brimstone mingled with the cooling air as Lucifer approached, his movements deliberate, his boots stirring the dry earth beneath him.

He stopped a few paces away, his tall frame silhouetted against the fading light. His dark cloak swirled around him, its edges curling like smoke in the wind. His expression was guarded, his sharp features set in a mixture of curiosity and weariness as he regarded Bast. For a long moment, he said nothing, letting the weight of her actions linger in the charged silence between them.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and smooth, carrying just enough amusement to veil his disapproval. “So, this is what fulfilling your ‘godly duties’ looks like.” His tone was casual, but there was a sharpness beneath it, like the edge of a blade.

Bast’s smirk widened, though it lacked its usual confidence. She let out a soft, breathy chuckle and glanced over her shoulder at him, her feline eyes glinting in the dying light. “Don’t tell me you’re here to scold me, Lucifer,” she said, her voice light but tinged with weariness. “You, of all beings, shouldn’t be lecturing anyone about meddling.”

Lucifer’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, but his eyes remained fixed on her, unyielding. He stepped closer, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze never leaving her face. “Perhaps not,” he admitted, his voice quiet but firm. “But even I know when not to overstep.” He stopped beside her, his eyes drifting to the sea below, its stillness a stark contrast to the chaos he had witnessed earlier. “What were you thinking, Bast?”

For a moment, Bast said nothing, her gaze distant as if searching for an answer in the shimmering horizon. Then she sighed, a soft, almost imperceptible sound, and unfolded her arms, letting them fall to her sides. “I just wanted to fulfill my godly duties for once,” she said, her voice softer now, stripped of its usual sharpness. “I’ve watched mortals cry out to us for generations, begging for justice, for protection… and I’ve done nothing. I thought… I thought this would make a difference.”

Lucifer tilted his head, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. “And did it?” he asked, his tone neither mocking nor kind, but genuinely curious.

Bast’s shoulders sagged, a rare vulnerability softening her usually poised demeanor. She let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Perhaps,” she murmured, her voice heavy with doubt. “But I think I overdid it this time.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her golden eyes flickered with something unspoken—regret, perhaps, or the weight of unintended consequences.

Lucifer exhaled through his nose, a low sound that could have been a chuckle or a sigh. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head back slightly, his dark eyes scanning the heavens as if seeking answers from the God he had long turned his back on. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice dry but not unkind. “You did. And you did it to a very powerful God at that—one who doesn’t take challenges lightly.”

Bast’s gaze snapped to him, her eyes narrowing, but there was no hostility in her expression—only a simmering defiance tempered by weariness. “I wasn’t challenging Him,” she said quietly, though her voice lacked conviction. “I just wanted to remind Pharaoh that his strength didn’t have to end in submission.”

Lucifer arched a brow, his smirk returning, though it was softer this time, almost pitying. “Ah, Bast,” he said, his voice laced with a weary amusement. “You and your pride. You don’t even realize that your actions spoke louder than your intentions. To them, you’re just another force in a cosmic game they’ll never understand.”

Bast turned away, her gaze returning to the horizon. Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, she looked as though she might respond with her usual sharp wit. But instead, she remained silent, the faint lines of worry etched into her elegant features betraying the turmoil she tried to hide.

Lucifer watched her for a moment longer, his expression softening. He stepped closer, standing just at her side, and let his gaze sweep over the sea one last time. “Well,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “You’ve set the stage, Bast. Whatever comes next, it’s out of your hands now. Best hope He’s more merciful than I would be.”

Bast’s lips quirked into a faint, humorless smile, her eyes glimmering with a mix of resignation and defiance. “Mercy has never been a guarantee,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. “Not for mortals. Not for gods.”

Lucifer nodded slowly, his gaze distant. “No,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the wind. “It hasn’t.”

For a moment, the two stood in silence, two immortal beings bound by their own regrets, watching the sun dip below the horizon, casting the world into shadow. Then, without another word, Lucifer turned and walked away, his figure dissolving into the darkness as if he had never been there at all.

Bast remained, her golden eyes reflecting the last glimmers of light as she stood alone on the hill, the weight of her choices pressing heavy on her shoulders.

“May Your Souls Rest In Peace. ” With that she also vanished and left.