I'm The Devil - Chapter 282

Chapter 282: Birthday Party 2

As the evening’s festivities continued, the golden glow of the hall dimmed slightly, allowing the soft luminescence of celestial orbs to cast intricate patterns of light and shadow across the marble floors. Laughter and the hum of conversations wove together into a symphony of life, though a subtle tension still lingered at the edges of the gathering. Lucifer moved through the crowd with unhurried grace, his pristine wings folding slightly against his back, exuding an air of quiet authority and effortless charm.

His crimson eyes flicked over the guests with a measured intensity, noting every subtle glance and whispered word as he passed. Despite the tension his presence caused, he carried himself with ease, his faint smile belying the sharpness of his thoughts. The soft murmur of the crowd parted instinctively around him, though a few bolder souls offered polite greetings, which he returned with a courteous nod.

Moronuel watched from a distance, leaning against a nearby column with an easy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His silver eyes, always brimming with mischief, gleamed as he pushed off the column and began making his way toward Lucifer, his movements smooth and deliberate.

“Enjoying yourself?” Moronuel asked as he reached Lucifer’s side, his tone light and casual, though his posture betrayed the calculated nature of his approach.

Lucifer’s gaze slid to him, one brow raising slightly. “As much as one can,” he replied, his voice calm and measured. “The decor is impressive, the company… varied.”

Moronuel chuckled softly, tilting his head as he observed Lucifer with a hint of amusement. “Varied, indeed,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “Though it’s hard to tell whether the tension in the room is from awe or lingering resentment.”

Lucifer’s faint smile widened just enough to show the edge of his teeth. “Resentment is such a predictable companion,” he said lightly. “It’s almost comforting.”

Moronuel’s smirk deepened, but his silver eyes sharpened slightly. He took a step closer, his tone growing quieter, more pointed. “Speaking of resentment… I wonder, brother, when do you intend to relieve Satanael of his punishment?”

Lucifer paused mid-step, his expression unreadable as his gaze settled on Moronuel. The faint smile that had graced his lips faded, replaced by a cool, calculating look. His brow arched slightly as he regarded his sibling. “Relieve him?” he repeated, his tone devoid of warmth. “And why, exactly, should I consider such a thing?”

Moronuel held Lucifer’s gaze, his smirk softening into something more serious. “Because he is our brother,” he said simply, his voice steady. “Regardless of what he’s done, he’s still family.”

For a moment, silence hung between them. Lucifer’s black eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest flicker of disdain flashing in their depths. His wings shifted, the feathers rustling softly as he tilted his head.

“Family,” Lucifer said, his voice laced with a biting edge. “He stopped being my brother the moment he not only coveted my throne but dared to desire my wives.” His gaze grew colder, his posture straightening as a quiet authority emanated from him. “So believe me when I say this, Moronuel—I was lenient in granting him his current punishment.”

Moronuel’s jaw tightened briefly, though his expression remained composed. He folded his arms across his chest, his silver eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Lucifer. “Lenient?” he echoed, his tone carefully neutral. “Condemning him to an eternity bound in darkness is lenient?”

Lucifer’s smile returned, but this time it was sharper, more cutting. “Oh, yes,” he said smoothly, his voice as calm as ever. “Because the alternative was far less merciful. Were it anyone else, Moronuel, they would have been unmade.”

Moronuel’s fingers tapped against his arm, a faint tension creeping into his stance despite his outward calm. “You’ve always had a way with mercy, haven’t you?” he said dryly. “But tell me, brother, does holding onto this grudge truly serve you? Or is it just another chain you refuse to release?”

Lucifer’s eyes glinted dangerously, but his expression remained composed, his movements deliberate as he stepped closer to Moronuel. The space between them felt charged, the air growing heavier as Lucifer’s presence seemed to intensify.

“I hold no grudge,” Lucifer said quietly, his voice low and smooth but carrying a weight that sent a shiver through the room. “I am simply ensuring that betrayal is met with consequences—consequences that echo loud enough for all to hear.”

For a moment, Moronuel held his ground, his silver eyes searching Lucifer’s for something unspoken. Then, he exhaled softly, his posture relaxing slightly as he raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender.

“Very well,” he said, his smirk returning faintly. “Far be it from me to challenge your sense of justice, Lucifer. But perhaps one day, you’ll find that justice and mercy are not so different after all.”

Lucifer watched him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he inclined his head slightly, his wings shifting as he turned to move past Moronuel.

“And perhaps one day,” he said over his shoulder, his voice calm but firm, “you’ll realize that mercy, unchecked, invites ruin.”

As Lucifer walked away, Moronuel remained where he stood, his silver eyes gleaming with a mixture of thoughtfulness and faint amusement. He shook his head slightly, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips.

“Ah, Lucifer,” he murmured to himself, his tone soft and laced with irony. “Always so certain. One wonders if even you see the cracks in your convictions.”

And with that, Moronuel turned back toward the crowd, his smirk firmly in place as he disappeared into the flow of the festivities.

Lucifer moved through the radiant hall with a deliberate grace, his wings brushing the air softly as he stepped away from Moronuel. His crimson eyes shimmered with faint irritation, though his face betrayed little beyond his usual calm composure. He inhaled slowly, the sound of his footsteps echoing faintly against the marble floor as the hum of the festivities resumed around him.

Before he could fully recompose himself, Exousia approached, her golden gown trailing behind her like liquid sunlight. She moved with a regal elegance, her golden eyes fixed on him with quiet determination. Her radiant beauty, enhanced by her serene confidence, drew the attention of the room, though she seemed focused entirely on Lucifer.

Lucifer noticed her approach immediately, the faintest crease forming between his brows. He sighed inwardly but turned to face her, his wings settling neatly against his back. “Exousia,” he greeted, his tone measured but not unkind.

She stopped a few paces away from him, her movements unhurried but deliberate. Her hands were clasped lightly in front of her, though her fingers tightened briefly, betraying the weight of her thoughts. Her golden eyes, so often filled with warmth, now held a sharper light as they met Lucifer’s.

“I heard,” she began, her voice calm yet carrying an undercurrent of reproach, “that you have sentenced Satanael to Hell for all eternity, binding him to the souls of the damned and condemning him to endless torment.”

Lucifer’s lips tightened slightly, and he exhaled softly through his nose, his irritation barely masked. He tilted his head, his crimson eyes narrowing just enough to show his growing frustration. “Yes,” he replied, his voice steady but clipped. “He wanted a throne, so I gave him one.” His wings shifted faintly, a subtle gesture that hinted at his restlessness. “And why,” he continued, his tone darkening slightly, “is everyone so intent on talking to me about Satanael tonight?”

Exousia’s golden eyes didn’t waver. She took a small step closer, her movements graceful but purposeful. “Because he is your brother,” she said softly but firmly, her voice tinged with a quiet plea. “Because despite what he’s done, there are those who still believe he deserves redemption.”

Lucifer’s jaw tightened, his crimson eyes glinting with an edge of steel. For a moment, he didn’t speak, his gaze locked with hers as a faint tension crackled between them. His expression remained composed, but the faint furrow in his brow and the slight downturn of his mouth betrayed his annoyance.

“Redemption,” he said finally, his voice low and laced with cold amusement. He took a step closer, his towering frame casting a faint shadow over her. “Do you know what Satanael did, Exousia?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

She didn’t flinch, her golden gaze unwavering. “I know that he coveted your throne,” she said evenly, though her voice softened. “And I know that he made mistakes—grave ones. But is eternal damnation truly the answer?”

Lucifer’s wings unfurled slightly, a gesture that was both commanding and restrained. “He didn’t just covet my throne,” he said, his voice gaining a sharp edge. “He sought to dismantle everything I built, everything I am. He betrayed me, not out of desperation or fear, but out of arrogance.” His crimson eyes burned brighter as he continued, his words deliberate. “He didn’t only seek power—he sought to take what was mine, including my wives. And yet, I showed mercy. I could have unmade him, cast him into oblivion. Instead, I gave him what he wanted—a throne of his own, ruling over the damned he once scorned.”

Exousia’s expression softened slightly, her golden eyes flickering with a mix of understanding and sorrow. “Lucifer,” she said gently, her voice carrying a note of compassion, “I am not here to justify what he did. But perhaps, after all this time, there is room for forgiveness. If not for his sake, then for yours.”

Lucifer’s crimson eyes darkened, and his wings folded tightly against his back. For a moment, his composed mask cracked, and a flicker of weariness passed over his face. He sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he looked away, his gaze distant.

“Forgiveness,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Such a simple word, yet it carries so much weight.” He turned back to Exousia, his expression guarded but no longer as sharp. “Do you think I haven’t considered it?” he asked, his tone quieter. “Do you think I haven’t wondered if there’s another way?”

Exousia’s lips curved into a faint smile, her golden eyes warm with quiet encouragement. “I think you are more compassionate than you allow others to see,” she said softly. “And I think, deep down, you want to heal what’s been broken.”

Lucifer studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he inclined his head slightly, his wings rustling softly as he stepped back. “Perhaps,” he said, his voice measured but thoughtful. “But some wounds cut too deep, Exousia. And some betrayals are not so easily forgiven.”

Exousia nodded slowly, her gaze filled with understanding. “Then I will not press you further,” she said gently. “But know that forgiveness is not a weakness, Lucifer. It is a strength—a choice to rise above the past.”

Lucifer’s lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile, though his crimson eyes remained guarded. “I will consider your words,” he said quietly. “But for now, let us leave the past where it belongs. Tonight is a celebration, is it not?”

Exousia inclined her head gracefully, her golden eyes softening. “Indeed it is,” she said, her voice lightening. “And I would hate to dampen the mood any further.”

With that, the tension between them eased, and the golden light of the hall seemed to brighten as they parted ways, the echo of their conversation lingering like a faint shadow in the air.