“So Bertrand has some kind of Ishin power inside of him, and I’m not human, even in the slightest...?” Nezariel asked, taking both Bertrand and Purson by surprise.

The demon king flinched ever so slightly, remembering the feeling of Lucifer’s glare through his niece’s eyes. However, that only gave him the determination to face his own decision.

“It’s time for you to know...” The demon king said, standing up to face Nezariel, who was also standing. While Bertrand, feeling some kind of family issues vibing all around, kept quiet.

Purson fell over his two knees, bending his whole body towards Nezariel, until his forehead touched the ground with a very solid sound.

“First of all... I, Donnovan, deeply apologise to you, little sister. I haven’t been a good uncle, neither a good protector, nor a good patron. I should’ve known better that you had your feelings conflicted ever since you started recollecting your memories.” Purson said, letting his emotions guide each and every single word that escaped his lips. “I can imagine how upset you are towards everything that’s been happening for the last year, but I can’t convey in even the slightest how you truly feel. All I can say is that I’m terribly sorry, and I’m willing to make up for everything I haven’t said, if you only give me the chance to make amends for these mistakes of mine.”

While his face was on the ground, the demon king recalled his master’s words.

Careful with your face when she wakes up...

But Purson didn’t feel like protecting his head.

Donnovan didn’t feel like living.

Not if it meant never being forgiven by his beloved niece.

And so he waited, his head almost glued to the floor, waiting for a step that could smash his existence to nothing.

Uriel, is it right? He asked himself.

Is it correct that a being like me can feel these kinds of feelings?

Am I being too selfish or too abnegated, wanting to die by the hands of one who looks exactly like you?

But the step didn’t come.

What Purson felt, on the other hand, was a warm weight over his back, and warm tears soaking the back of his shirt.

It was as if being burnt by the sun, but he let it. Because that feeling was like grace to him.

So that’s how it feels to be forgiven?

And at that moment the touch, the burn, felt like forgiveness to the demon king.

***

“Why a restaurant, Azazel?” Uriel asked, after some serious consideration over where she should start.

And seeing that there was no reason to worry about anything, since she was looking at an ally, it’d be interesting to know why a grand marquis as powerful as Azazel, decided to join forces with Metatron. Therefore, there was no better question to start digging information than that particular one.

“I’ll be honest with you, my dear.” The grand marquis started. “Many with so little, few with so much, and in the middle of it all, us. With the power to change everything by influencing the scales of Good and Evil.”

Uriel looked at him, a grand marquis of hell. A being supposed to be as wicked as evil could be, saying those words in such a meaningful way, that she even felt somehow moved.

After all, the angels of Eden existed to protect and love humankind, just as their Father did.

Right?

“I mean, I know we can’t do much, because we don’t have the power to exert influence in reality itself. But why can’t we just do a bit more?” Azazel’s words were so vehement, so eloquent yet so passionate, that Uriel was on the verge of tears for a very small instant.

She recomposed herself and kept listening to Azazel’s unexpectedly emotional speech.

“Metatron showed me the way to do it, and so I left my home, came to the Haled, and opened this restaurant. To gather money from my fancy customers, and turn it to really enjoyable meals and experiences for the homeless. That’s why I don’t allow conflict here, and the only ones who can break from this spell are the beings higher and more powerful than me. However, since the only two three beings capable of doing that already left a while ago, you and my establishment are perfectly safe and sound.”

Uriel thought to herself for a moment after hearing the strange turn in the grand marquis’s speech.

Why was he mentioning this?

Ally or not, he was still under the banner of Absolute Evil, and as moving as his speech could be, as sincere as it could sound, Azazel was still a demon.

Therefore, he couldn’t be trusted, no matter how he knew the language of the Father.

He was still cunning and deceiving.

Wait... He said that only higher and more powerful beings than him could break from his spell. I know that Lucifer is still in the Sheol, and there aren’t many demon kings here to frequent this place. Oh shit!

“Why did you ally yourself with my sister?” The archangel asked, standing up abruptly and kicking the chair behind her far near the wall behind her back.

Azazel didn’t even flinch, but the look in his eyes showed an Oh shit! Kind of expression.

She caught him, and now he would pay for teaming up with her betraying sister.

And for being a demon.

Uriel had no weapons, and summoning her angelic blade, Fire of the Sentence, was impossible since she still could feel her Grace.

However, it didn’t mean that she couldn’t charge against Azazel and punch the life out of him.

She knew he was telling the truth about the non-aggression magic all around them, but she should be somehow immune to it, because she was feeling quite aggressive and ready to fight.

“Oh dear...” Azazel sighed, looking a bit baffled about how she was capable of showing aggressiveness right there.

Whether my spell is weakened, or it doesn’t work on Exiluses.

He sighed again, deeply this time, and looked at the ceiling.

“Oh fates, I only wanted to cook! Why do you keep putting me in situations like this?”

But before he could even breathe or wait for an answer that would never come, the grand marquis of Hell saw Uriel charging wildly towards him, fists raised in a fighting position he knew very well, and a fire in her eyes that would set the whole building ablaze, if it wasn’t figurative.

And right when the archangel’s fist was to hit Azazel’s jaw, a rumbling sound came from right behind them, followed by a storm of debris that showered over both Azazel and Uriel.

The archangel lost her balance and almost fell on her butt, while the grand marquis stood still, as if completely unperturbed by the huge explosion.

Uriel’s eyes were locked in Azazel’s, who showed signs of extreme effort to contain a massive wave of anger. But the voice that came from behind him made the both of them turn around and look at the muscular young man standing at the hole in the wall where the door to the office once was.

“You keep your fingers away from her.”

Oh, so he’s her comrade, huh? Azazel thought to himself, raising his eyebrows and thinking for the first time in a very long while, about how a human could taste if well cooked and seasoned.

But then the young man completed his sentence.

“She is my prey!”