Clearly, as humanity's Guardian Deity, Duma did not want to see that happen either. But he was merely an unremarkable archangel, ranked twelfth among angels of his rank.
In terms of combat power, Lucifer could take on a hundred of him alone; in terms of miraculous abilities, Michael, the Heavenly Vice-Lord, left him hundreds of streets behind.
He was simply an angel whom God had assigned to hold Hell after his elder brother abandoned it and fled to the human world to play. He could be considered a necessary safeguard.
Only when Maze lost control of Hell, or when someone wanted to erase Lucifer's influence from Hell, would he act.
Otherwise, he merely tended the flowers and plants here in silence, because God had arranged it all long ago.
"So, Duma, millions of years later, if I want to find the Silent Gods, where should I look? Do you have any clues?"
Lucifer stated his request. After finishing the tomato, his lips looked even more moist and lustrous.
Perhaps he felt that the ever-silent Duma had something in common with the Silent Gods, since they both belonged to the "silent" generation?
The long-haired angel thought for a moment, raising a hand to his lips as though signaling Lucifer to remain silent as well.
Then he pointed beneath their feet before using both hands to form the number seven.
"Ah, I understand. Thank you, Duma."
Satan nodded, kissed his brother on the cheek, then turned to leave.
But Duma grabbed his arm, wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, pressed his face against his elder brother's back, and kept shaking his head to signal that this was not a wise move.
Both despair and hope could give rise to the Silent Gods. Those intangible gray shadows had surely chosen this