I'm The Devil

Chapter 370: Brothers At War 2

Lucifer crashed through what was left of a support pillar and came out the other side laughing through blood.

That laugh did something to Gabriel. He sat back down slowly, like he already knew this wasn't turning into anything gentle again.

The stage gave up.

Whole sections fell away.

The space around them trembled with the pressure of two firstborn monsters trying to settle something older than kingdoms.

Khaos stood.

Her eyes lifted once to the cracking edges around the arena.

Then she raised one hand.

Just a decision.

A sphere unfolded around the battlefield.

Clear at first, then silver at the edges, then gone in the sense that it was there but didn't want to be seen. It wrapped around Lucifer and Michael just as the last sections of the stage came apart.

Inside it, space deepened.

Then deepened again.

Then stretched.

The distance between one step and another widened into something that no longer obeyed shape.

Gabriel stared. "What did she do?"

Khaos didn't look at him. "Gave them room."

Ariel frowned. "That's not room."

"No," Exousia said quietly. "That's infinity."

Inside the bubble, the pieces of broken stage stopped mattering. There was ground when they needed ground, distance when they needed distance, and no edge for either of them to throw the other against.

Lucifer rolled his shoulder once. The wound through it was closing, but slowly. Michael wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and reset his grip.

Then they came together again.

This time the clash rang out through the bubble like bells being murdered.

Lucifer led with the sword, but it was a lie. The real attack came from his left knee. Michael read it, turned to catch the knee, and the sword followed through toward the ribs. Michael's blade trapped it. Lucifer released the pressure, let the sword slide, reversed the grip, and stabbed for Michael's throat from underneath.

Michael dropped his chin, took the cut across the jaw instead of the throat, and answered with a slash that would have taken Lucifer's stomach open if Lucifer hadn't jumped back a fraction too late.

Too late still counted.

The edge bit him.

Lucifer's shirt darkened with blood.

He grinned again.

Michael looked at him and for the first time there was no pity there. No disappointment.

Just battle.

Good.

Lucifer drove forward in a storm.

He attacked from every line he'd learned before heaven, after heaven, and because of hell. Cuts designed for angels. Cuts designed for demons. Cuts designed for things that had more than two arms and less than one soul. Michael met them all, but not perfectly. Nobody could have. Blood marked him now—shoulder, jaw, ribs, thigh. Lucifer was cut too—shoulder, side, stomach, cheek.

Neither of them cared.

Michael's blade turned, caught Lucifer's, and suddenly he was the one pressing. Fast now. Relentless. Pale arcs flashing one after another in a chain that drove Lucifer back six steps, then eight, then twelve. Every time Lucifer tried to reset, Michael was already there, pushing the next angle, eating the next space.

Ariel whispered, "Damn."

Gabriel nodded once, eyes fixed ahead. "This is what he used to be."

Lucifer saw it too.

This was Michael without mercy.

Finally.

Lucifer stopped retreating.

He let Michael come in one move too deep, then stepped into the strike instead of away from it. Michael's blade cut across his side again, but Lucifer got what he wanted—range.

He slammed his forehead into Michael's nose.

Michael's head snapped back.

Lucifer grabbed his wrist, twisted, and punched the joint with the pommel of his sword. Something popped. Michael's grip loosened for half a beat.

Lucifer ripped the pale blade out of line and kicked Michael in the chest.

Michael flew backward.

Lucifer followed instantly.

He caught up before Michael landed and brought his sword down with enough force to split whatever ground happened to exist beneath them. Michael crossed his blade just in time. The impact drove him down one knee, then both. His arms shook.

Lucifer leaned over him, red eyes bright.

"Look up."

Michael's teeth clenched.

Lucifer pushed harder.

"Come on," he said, voice low and vicious. "You wanted me judged. Look up."

Michael roared and exploded upward.

The burst of force threw Lucifer off him. Michael rose with the movement, sword dragging a line of light up from low left to high right. Lucifer barely turned in time.

The cut tore through his chest.

Deep.

Ariel made a sound she didn't mean to.

Lucifer dropped to one knee.

Blood hit the ground in heavy drops.

Michael stood over him, breathing hard, blade ready, blood running down his own face.

Neither moved.

Then Lucifer laughed again.

Gabriel closed his eyes. "There it is."

Michael's brows drew together. "What's funny?"

Lucifer looked up at him through blood-wet black hair. "That was good."

Michael's expression tightened.

Lucifer rose slowly.

"Do it again."

Michael did.

And that was the problem.

Because this time Lucifer was ready for the exact angle.

He slipped outside it by the width of a breath, caught Michael's sword arm with his off hand, and drove his own blade straight through Michael's side.

Michael's eyes widened.

Lucifer twisted the sword once inside him.

Michael's breath broke.

Lucifer leaned in close, almost shoulder to shoulder, and whispered something only Michael heard.

Whatever it was, Michael's face changed.

Then Michael answered by slamming the crown of his head into Lucifer's mouth, breaking the moment and sending both of them apart again.

The spectators didn't hear the words.

They only saw the damage.

Michael now bled from the side in a deep, ugly line.

Lucifer's chest wound still hadn't fully closed.

Both of them were slowing.

Not much.

Just enough that the next mistake would matter more.

Khaos spoke softly. "Now it starts."

Ariel frowned. "What do you mean now? They've been trying to kill each other."

Khaos didn't look at her. "Until now they were proving things. Now they'll choose."

Inside the infinite space, Michael reset his stance.

Lucifer did the same.

No more words.

No more old names.

No more blame.

Just the final shape of it.

Brother against brother.

Sword against sword.

Judgment against rebellion.

Michael moved first this time.

Lucifer met him.

The next clash ripped a line of white across the bubble itself.

And for the first time since Khaos had made it, even infinity looked like it might not be enough.