Now leading a party of four, Azazel had become their commander, bearing not only the rights of leadership but also its burdens.
Of course, Azazel himself lacked a sense of responsibility. Had he commanded an army of one hundred thousand, the loss of a mere eight or ten thousand might elicit a nonchalant "Oh, only that many? Let me know when another ten thousand fall."
But the problem was, he only had three subordinates.
The loss of any one would be a substantial blow.
Moreover, if he couldn't even protect his mere three subordinates, wouldn't it reflect poorly on his competence?
Thus, Azazel decided to take his three "little brothers" under his wing.
"Azazel, though I find it hard to accept you as a leader, who am I to argue with a signed agreement?" Valis mused, the image of Azazel's back during their recent battle surfacing in his mind. He found reassurance in that silhouette, though he would never admit it out loud.
"So, Azazel, you're my boss now." Valis spoke with a tinge of regret, pricking his finger and extending it towards Azazel. "Go ahead."
Azazel, perplexed, looked at the resolute Valis and then at the proffered finger. "What do you want me to do with that?"
"Suck it!"
Azazel recoiled, mouth agape. "No, that's disgusting. It can't be that perverse."
Valis closed his eyes in pain. "Don't you even understand? Don't you want to test your 'summoning' ability?"
"Summoning?" Azazel was still at a loss.
"If you wish to summon me, we need a connection. A written contract is just a procedure, a ritual without power in itself. You must have a drop of my blood. From now on, our bloodlines will be linked. Whenever you call for me, I will know, and I will appear."
Azazel finally understood and nodded. "I see. But is there no other way? Must it involve sucking your finger? There's plenty of blood from your wound."
Valis looked at him with disdain. "Please, Falling Star bleeds every month too; why don't you lick that? Not just any blood will do—it must be special, containing the power of the soul."
So Azazel ended up sucking the fingers of his three subordinates that day. Although he was serious with only one of them, the ritual was effective. From that moment on, Azazel would never have to fight alone again.
A week later, a squad of twelve angels finally arrived at the site of the battle.
Leading the way was Saint Terial. Upon seeing Saint Laurence's corpse, she collapsed to the ground in tears.
All the angels felt a burning rage in their chests.
Squad Captain Miserah, her face ashen, issued orders to her subordinates: "Collect the fragments of the body, and have four novice angels deliver them back to Mount Celestia!"
Miserah hovered in midair, her silver armor gleaming, silver hair cascading over her shoulders, a golden cross medallion adorning her chest, and white flames burning in her silver eyes.
She sighed and descended, helping the weeping Terial to her feet. "Terial, don't despair too much. They've desecrated Laurence's body in such a way; I won't let those devils get away with it. You seem unfit for battle now; go back with Laurence's body."
Terial wiped her tears and said, "Thank you, Sister Miserah, but no. I must join the pursuit; I must avenge Laurence. I can fight, I am a Seraph, just like you!"
Miserah patted Terial's head with a gentle smile. "Be good. Though we're both Seraphim, our differences are vast. You're not meant for battle, Terial. You're destined to become an Intelligence Angel. As smart as you are, you should learn to control your emotions. And what will you do if you encounter Valis? Can you really raise your sword against him?"
"I can! I will behead him!" Terial's voice was firm, unwavering.
"No, that would be too cruel for you. Let me handle it. Besides, I think Laurence would want you to make his tombstone by hand. There are more meaningful things to do than seeking revenge."
Terial was moved by the last remark, hesitating as she looked at Laurence's body being placed in a coffin, before nodding, "Alright, I leave it all to you."
"Rest assured, I'll bring you the heads of Valis and Azazel," Miserah said confidently.
"You promise?"
"I promise!"
Once Terial departed with the novice angels, Miserah summoned her second-in-command, Ailen, a handsome male Seraph with eagle-like eyes and excellent archery skills. Not only was he a formidable combatant with a sharp mind, but he was also a master tracker who had never let a criminal escape.
"Ailen, my second-in-command, what's the situation?" Miserah inhaled deeply.
"The guilty can never escape judgment," Ailen replied without hesitation.
"Enough with the platitudes. Terial has left. Tell me straight, how bad is it?" Miserah waved impatiently.
Ailen shrugged. "It's bad. The culprits are strong, and this is Hell, after all. Though the guilty cannot escape judgment forever, before the final judgment arrives, they can enjoy many thousands of years."
"Oh? You mean the enemy is so strong we can't handle them?"
Ailen chuckled coldly. "If it were any other squad, perhaps the criminals might escape. But we're here, so their final judgment has been expedited."
"I like the sound of that. Tell me about these 'criminals.'"
"From the traces of battle and Terial's report, there are four enemies: a mage of low threat, a minor devil, and two noteworthy individuals—one a devil from Hell that we should keep an eye on, and the other the traitor Valis who stole the 'Sword of Dawn.'"
"Excellent. Tell me about the battle."
Ailen looked troubled, shaking his head. "I can't."
"Isn't reconstructing battle events from wounds and other signs your specialty?"
Miserah realized the issue. "Oh, I see. We don't have the bodies anymore, so you can't get any useful information from that mess of flesh. What happened to Valis? I've met the boy before. Aside from being a bit extreme, he was a good person. How could he suddenly fall so far and commit such a heinous act as defiling a corpse? It's utterly evil. Well, let's rest up and then start the pursuit."
"Pursue whom?" Ailen asked.
Miserah was surprised. "What do you mean, 'whom'? Have they split up?"
"Yes, they've scattered in three directions."
Miserah sneered. "They think they can escape by splitting up? Poor fools. We'll let none escape; we'll pursue them separately. You take two others and chase Valis; I'll deal with the devil, and the remaining four Archangels can judge the cloaked mage."
"Yes, I'll assign the tasks right away." Ailen hesitated before kneeling on one knee. "Forgive me for speaking out of turn. Valis is just a Seraph, and the other two are mediocre at best. The main reason they overcame Saint Laurence is likely due to that devil; he's the biggest variable. Please be careful, Captain Miserah."
Miserah patted Ailen's shoulder. "Be careful yourself. Never underestimate your enemy, even if it's just a minor devil. And your enemy is Valis, wielding the Sword of Dawn. Don't be too careless."
"Thank you, Captain Miserah. I'll set out now."
"Make haste, my second-in-command. We've delayed long enough. If it weren't for that damned procedure, we'd have been here sooner. Time wouldn't be so pressing as it is now."
The procedures frustrated Miserah. Mount Celestia undoubtedly had the most perfect laws and regulations, safeguarding all residents of the seven heavens. But these same rules became laughable obstacles in times of crisis.
Just to request reinforcements after Terial's return was a tedious process. Miserah could have drawn her sword and charged out, but she had to wait for military orders. Before that, Terial had to report the mission's failure, submit a detailed report, undergo a thorough review of the reasons for failure, and then submit a request to continue the pursuit. Only after approval from a committee and verification through another channel would a small team be dispatched to execute the mission. The entire process was cumbersome and bureaucratic.
But rules were rules.
Miserah sighed and set out in the direction Azazel had fled. Holy light poured from her four wings, and even in Hell, Miserah, on the verge of ascending to a Flaming Angel, was confident. With a sword in hand, she feared nothing.