The Devil was in Hell. In truth, he was very unhappy to be back here.
Because once, his father had foretold that if he failed to stop everything from happening, he would have no choice but to return to Hell, reclaim Satan's authority, and let everything unfold as it had been "arranged."
Now, this seemed like a bad omen. He felt that he might already be facing an unseen defeat.
But at least not today. He had not come here today to take over Hell. The blond demon proudly raised his chin, looking down upon the peaks and cliffs that had once belonged to him as he silently walked along the narrow mountain path, just as he had once walked in Heaven.
Above him, white figures drifted through the cliffside castle. Below lay an endless expanse of crimson land. Lucifer hated tilting his head up to look at others, but his brothers were exceptions.
He continued down the mountain path, but this time his gaze fell farther below, upon that red, scorching land.
In the distance, demons could be seen toying with their prey, playing endless games. He seemed even to hear screams, and that improved his mood considerably.
Normally, before people's bodies entered Hell, they had already been buried or cremated. Their muscles had stiffened, and carrion-eating insects had gnawed at their eyeballs.
Yet the instant they entered Hell, the dead found themselves with all four limbs intact—only to be torn apart by five horses soon afterward. It was the devils' welcome ceremony.
After witnessing terror again and again, their eyes would be gouged out. They would find their nerves exceptionally sensitive, while always retaining a tongue they could use to scream.
Once the manifested body of a spirit was destroyed, everything began anew. Restored whole, people could start