I'm The Devil - Chapter 280

Chapter 280: Birthday Party

The celestial halls of the Divine Celestial Myriad World were alive with splendor. A radiant glow suffused the air, casting soft, golden light over every polished surface. The lavish venue, adorned with cascading drapes of starlight and floating lanterns imbued with divine flames, shimmered as though the heavens themselves had descended to celebrate Exousia’s birthday. Guests from across the God Plane mingled, their laughter and conversation weaving together into a symphony of celestial harmony.

Exousia moved gracefully among them, her presence magnetic and regal. She welcomed each guest with warmth and attentiveness, her words carrying an effortless charm that seemed to set even the most reserved attendees at ease. Her radiant smile conveyed both joy and authority, her sharp gaze catching every detail around her.

As the evening progressed, a distinct ripple of energy heralded the arrival of new guests. Barial, Amiel, Moronuel, Amadeus, and Coriel stepped into the grand hall, their entrance commanding attention without effort. Their auras were powerful yet distinct, like celestial storms held in delicate balance. They moved as a group, each embodying their unique essence, but their dynamic interplay revealed layers of camaraderie and unspoken tension.

Amiel and Coriel

Amiel, her presence vibrant and full of purpose, glanced around the grand hall with an appraising eye. She placed her hands on her hips, her sharp gaze lingering on the ornate decorations and the luxurious spread of delicacies lining the tables. Her lips curled into a wry smile as she turned to Coriel. “Look at all this,” she said, her voice carrying an edge of playful envy. “I should hold a birthday party of my own.”

Coriel, lounging lazily beside her, raised a single brow in amusement. Her tone was as nonchalant as her posture. “Last time I checked, angels don’t have birthdays,” she said dryly, her eyes half-lidded but glinting with faint humor. She leaned lightly against a column, her arms crossed in a way that suggested a practiced disinterest.

Amiel turned fully to face her, her expression a mix of defiance and mock indignation. “And what do you call this?” she countered, gesturing broadly to the grandeur around them. “Last time I checked, Exousia is our sister. If she can have one, why can’t I?”

Coriel let out a soft chuckle, her lips curling into a lazy smirk. “She’s not just having one—she’s hosting it. You’re just envious she got the idea first.”

Amiel huffed, folding her arms across her chest. “Whatever,” she muttered, though her tone held more amusement than actual irritation.

Exousia’s Arrival

Before the exchange could continue, Exousia approached them with the same effortless poise she displayed with every guest. Her eyes sparkled with warmth as she greeted them. “Welcome,” she said, her voice ringing with sincerity. Her gaze lingered on each of them briefly, acknowledging their presence before it sharpened slightly, her tone growing inquisitive. “Tell me, where is Satanael? I had hoped to see him tonight.”

The mood shifted instantly. The group fell silent, the jovial atmosphere from moments earlier dissipating. Barial and Moronuel exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions clouded with discomfort. Coriel’s lazy demeanor stiffened slightly, though she avoided Exousia’s gaze. Amadeus shifted awkwardly, his usually composed features tight with tension.

Amiel, ever bold, opened her mouth to speak but faltered, glancing at the others for support. It was Asmodeus who finally broke the silence, exhaling heavily as he ran a hand through his hair. “Satanael,” he began, his tone reluctant, “just loves rebelling against our rebellious brother, Lucifer.”

Exousia’s eyes narrowed slightly, her curiosity deepening, though she maintained her calm composure. “And?” she prompted softly, her voice gentle but insistent.

Asmodeus sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. “And he almost crossed the line,” he admitted, his voice low. “Lucifer had to step in. He punished Satanael… sentenced him to remain in Hell for all eternity.”

Exousia’s serene expression faltered briefly, a flicker of shock and sadness crossing her features. “Eternity?” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Barial, his tone sharp but restrained, cut in. “You’re lucky Lucifer didn’t subject you to the same punishment, Asmodeus.”

Asmodeus scowled, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Come on,” he retorted, his voice tinged with defensiveness. “We all thought he was dead, that he was never going to come back. Satanael was the closest thing to Lucifer at the time. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Moronuel, who had been silent until now, sighed deeply, shaking his head. His expression was weary but resolute. “There is always a choice, Asmodeus,” he said softly. “But I suppose your greed got the better of you.”

Asmodeus shot him a dark look, his jaw tightening, but Moronuel raised a hand before he could respond. “That’s not why we’re here,” he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “We’re here for Exousia. Let’s not dwell on past events.”

The tension eased slightly, though the weight of the conversation lingered in the air. Exousia, ever gracious, straightened her posture, her radiant composure returning as she smiled softly. “Thank you,” she said, her voice steady despite the flicker of emotion in her eyes. “Let’s enjoy this evening together.”

With that, the group allowed themselves to be drawn back into the celebration, though the shadows of their unspoken concerns lingered at the edges of their thoughts.

The vibrant hum of conversation and laughter filled the hall as Exousia’s grand celebration unfolded. The faint chime of crystalline goblets, the melodious strains of celestial harps, and the rustle of divine silks brushing against marble floors created an atmosphere of refined splendor. Among the crowd of radiant guests, Exousia’s siblings gathered, each lost in their own peculiar pursuits.

Bariel sat at one of the long tables, his imposing frame hunched over a plate piled high with food. His demeanor gave way to surprising voracity as he stuffed food into his mouth without pause, crumbs scattering across the otherwise pristine tablecloth. His sharp blue-gray eyes darted about as if wary of someone chastising him for his lack of decorum. Between bites, he muttered something incomprehensible, crumbs punctuating his grumbles.

Not far away, Coriel lay sprawled across a plush, golden couch, her purple hair spilling over the armrest like liquid shadow. One leg dangled lazily off the side, her posture the epitome of indolence. Her eyes were closed, her breathing slow and rhythmic, but the faint twitch at the corner of her lips betrayed her awareness. Occasionally, her fingers drummed lightly against the couch, as though mocking the effortlessness of her leisure.

Amiel, meanwhile, stood apart, her black hair gleaming under the golden light of the floating chandeliers. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest as she scanned the lavish decorations, her bkack eyes narrowing with unspoken jealousy. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the faint tap of her heel against the marble floor betraying her restless frustration. “Why does she always have to outshine everyone?” she muttered under her breath, her lips pressed into a tight line.

Moronuel moved subtly through the crowd, his silver eyes flicking from one elaborate display to the next. His hands were clasped behind his back in an almost casual manner, but his fingers flexed occasionally, as though testing the weight of an invisible object. His sharp gaze lingered on an ornate, gem-encrusted candelabra for a moment too long before he sighed and continued walking, muttering to himself, “Too obvious.”

Asmodeus leaned against a nearby pillar, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. His sharp features were softened by a roguish smirk as his dark eyes tracked the movements of the women gliding gracefully through the hall. His head tilted slightly, his gaze lingering on one celestial figure whose laughter chimed like silver bells. “Now this,” he murmured to no one in particular, “is a celebration.”

A soft ripple of divine energy heralded Ophiel’s arrival, though her presence was almost understated compared to her siblings’ usual dramatics. She moved with quiet confidence, her silver hair catching the light and shimmering like woven moonlight. Her gentle smile contrasted with the exasperation that flickered briefly across her face as she took in her siblings’ peculiar behavior.

She approached the group, her gaze sweeping over each of them in turn. Her voice, soft yet tinged with amusement, broke the silence. “Well, isn’t this a sight? The mighty archangels, brought together for our dear sister’s birthday… and acting like children.”

Bariel paused mid-bite, his cheeks bulging with food. He quickly swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, muttering, “I’m just enjoying the feast. No harm in that.”

Coriel cracked one eye open. “And I’m just enjoying the furniture. It’s remarkably comfortable, by the way.”

Amiel shot Ophiel a sharp look, her envy momentarily giving way to indignation. “Some of us are just admiring the excess,” she said, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Moronuel chuckled quietly, his fingers brushing against the back of a jeweled chair as he leaned against it. “And some of us are… appreciating the craftsmanship. Truly remarkable.”

Ophiel raised a skeptical brow at him before her gaze shifted to Asmodeus, who hadn’t even noticed her approach. She followed his line of sight, catching him ogling yet another guest. “And Asmodeus,” she said dryly, crossing her arms. “I see you’ve taken your usual interests to heart.”

Asmodeus’s smirk widened, and he inclined his head toward her. “Always, dear sister. Why fix what isn’t broken?”

Ophiel chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re all impossible,” she said, her tone affectionate despite her words. Her expression grew curious as she glanced around the hall. “But tell me, where’s Samael? I haven’t seen him yet. Surely, he wouldn’t miss this.”