Chapter 395: Look Into My Eyes (Request Subscription)

The sun set.

A single sentence made Herbert’s spirit snap taut.

!!!

In his past life, this was an ordinary, unremarkable phrase.

The sun rises, the moon sets—natural law, nothing special.

But in this world, it carried an entirely different meaning.

The sun in this world was no natural celestial body in the universe—it pointed to a powerful deity.

Did the Sun God have a problem?

Did He… fall?

For an instant, Herbert wanted to rush out of the Discipline Hall and look up at the outside world.

If Albertas truly fell from the sky, what disaster would it bring to this world?

Herbert could actually find an answer to this terrifying question.

In history, the sun had once truly set.

During that battle against the otherworldly gods, the sun fell.

That disaster nearly destroyed this world entirely.

Afterwards, for a very long time, the entire world plunged into eternal night, with only the blood moon hanging in the sky; the sun did not rise again until much later.

If He did this again… hiss!

Merely imagining such a possibility made one’s body tense, cold with dread.

But Herbert restrained himself.

Because he suddenly remembered—just a short while ago, in Elda, he had already seen the sun.

Outside, everything remained normal.

The sun was still the same sun, the world still the same world, no unusual changes.

Luciel’s silence had already begun before he teleported to Elda.

Herbert did not know what the fallen angel had seen in the mirror, but now it seemed it was not the reality of this moment.

Had she seen past history?

Or a glimpse of the future?

And what exactly had Luciel seen?

Although Herbert’s relationship with Luciel was not close, he knew she was not a fragile, sentimental soul.

What had she seen that could make this former apex angel, once standing just beneath the gods, weep?

The sun falling… did it mean the death of the Sun God? Had the Lord of the Burning Day perished?

No, not right.

Didn’t Luciel betray the Sun God?

If the Sun God truly perished, Luciel wouldn’t be happy, but she wouldn’t be this heartbroken either.

What then?

Herbert frowned in thought, burying these doubts deep within.

Although he was curious about the truth, now was not the time to ask.

What mattered most now was not getting an accurate answer from Luciel, but calming an anxious woman.

Herbert held Luciel tightly, one hand gently patting her back, the other stroking her waist, soothing her trembling soul with tenderness.

He lowered his head and whispered softly beside the fallen angel’s ear:

“Don’t be afraid.”

Just a simple, quiet whisper—but it made the fallen angel, who had been trembling slightly, freeze instantly.

The angel turned her head dazedly, her eyes behind the black veil widening, trying to see the boy’s face.

“I’m here.”

Herbert did not turn back, continuing:

“I don’t know what you saw, nor do I understand why you’re grieving, but I want to tell you one thing.”

“Fate is uncertain.”

He slightly lifted his head, his gaze firm as he met his own reflection in the distant mirror, speaking gently: “Do not, and need not, grieve over illusions that may never come.”

Do not suffer for what has not yet happened.

You can take out a loan to buy a car, a loan to buy a house, even a loan to win a championship… but never take out a loan for pain and sorrow.

“Fate can be reversed.”

“If you do not wish to face that future, what you must do is not cry—but strive to change it.”

Herbert whispered his counsel, trying to convey his thoughts.

He was sincere, but at this moment, Luciel did not fully hear him.

In the fallen angel’s mind, the only words echoing were Herbert’s first ones—“Don’t be afraid.”

Don’t fear. I’m here.

In the past, Luciel had never heard such words of comfort from anyone.

Never.

Because… she was the one who inspired fear.

Every time she appeared before mortals, she had to overwhelm them first, reassuring them not to fear her appearance.

Before other angels, she was the merciless Archangel, never smiling, the sharpest blade in the gods’ hands.

Comfort? Embrace?

No one had ever spoken such words to her, nor dared make such an impudent gesture.

They… feared Luciel.

Mortals cowered before her radiance, daring not to look directly into her eyes.

Angels revered her authority, dared not speak casually with her.

They feared being pierced by her sharp edges, burned by her blazing form, labeled as heretics to be purged.

So they kept their distance—even when Luciel came to save them, even when she was their leader.

Luciel understood their thoughts, so she quietly withdrew, never attempting to draw closer.

Now, Luciel was being comforted by a mortal infinitely weaker than herself, as if she were a child being soothed.

Was it bewilderment?

Was it confusion?

Was it emotion?

Perhaps all these feelings were present, tangled intricately in her heart.

But what filled Luciel’s heart most now was not these—it was… anger.

“Don’t… be afraid?”

Luciel suddenly broke free from Herbert’s embrace, flying backward several meters.

She hovered in midair, staring at Herbert as she spoke slowly: “Tell me not to fear? What… do you even know?”

Her voice carried an unsettling, chilling fury that lowered the temperature of the Mirror Realm.

!!!

“Hiss!”

Lulaklia, watching from the side, shuddered and silently drifted her original mirror farther away.

Not good, not good!

This guy seems furious—better keep my distance!

Lulaklia silently speculated, even harboring an unrealistic hope—would she tear this place apart?

Yet at the same moment, as the direct target of this fury, Herbert showed no fear.

He floated calmly in place, closing his eyes to feel the lingering warmth and coolness on his chest, smiling inwardly.

Was Luciel furious beyond control?

Had she lost all composure?

No.

The truth was probably not that.

When she broke free, she hadn’t pushed at all—she hadn’t even propelled herself backward… she stepped back herself.

He was certain—her anger was merely a facade.

Perhaps Luciel herself didn’t even realize it; it was an instinctive act to conceal her true emotions.

Herbert raised his gaze, looking at the fallen angel’s furious face, and asked softly: “Don’t I know?”

“You don’t know!”

The fallen angel roared without hesitation.

You have no idea what I saw.

You don’t know what I’ve endured.

Don’t know!

You! Know! Nothing!!!

Facing her renewed anger, Herbert nodded seriously and admitted, “You’re right. I don’t know.”

Creak.

Luciel clenched her teeth tightly: “Then why are you still saying—”

“But it’s not my problem.”

Herbert calmly interrupted her, serious: “It’s yours.”

“...What? Me?” Luciel frowned, finding it absurd.

What nonsense is he talking?

“Yes. You.”

Herbert smiled and asked, “Do you think I don’t want to know?”

He met the confused Fallen Angel’s gaze without fear, calm: “Precisely because you say nothing, I know nothing.”

“If you want me to know, I can be a listener, hear your troubles.”

“If you don’t want me to know, I can be silent, ask nothing.”

“So whether I learn of your distress—it’s your choice, not mine.”

You speak, I listen.

You don’t speak, I don’t ask.

This was Herbert’s way of dealing with others: seeking earnestly, yet respecting certain boundaries.

“I! You—”

Luciel wanted to refute him after hearing this, but opened her mouth and hesitated.

What he said... actually made sense.

She was the one throwing a tantrum.

Taking advantage of Luciel’s silence, Herbert continued:

“In truth, I don’t care what you saw. I only care about your mood.”

“Whether the sun sets or not—I don’t care.”

Herbert spoke without humility or flattery, no false tenderness, even revealing a hint of irritation.

“If you don’t need my concern, tell me directly. I’ll pretend I saw nothing and walk away.”

Need me? I’m here.

Don’t need me? I can leave.

“So, Luciel, you can tell me now.”

He stared into her eyes, slowly asking: “Do you... need my concern?”

In strength, ten thousand Herberts couldn’t match Luciel—the gap was immeasurable.

Yet at this moment, Herbert’s presence overwhelmingly overshadowed hers.

A mortal questioned an angel.

And the angel, as if avoiding his calm gaze, lowered her head into silence.

“...”

Yes, Herbert knew nothing.

But he knew nothing precisely because of her silence.

Yet Luciel had her reasons.

What she saw in the mirror was too absurd.

She couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t tell anyone.

To know such a future would only harm them.

...Not knowing was enough.

Precisely because he knew nothing, he treated her without extra thoughts.

“Why?”

Luciel slowly lifted her head, her gaze complex as she whispered to Herbert: “You know this is dangerous. Why go this far?”

If you already understand how dangerous this truth is, why not just let me be alone?

Luciel didn’t directly answer Herbert’s question—but her refusal was an answer.

“Heh.”

Herbert’s lips curled slightly as he said: “First, it’s duty.”

“As a warden, my mission is to reform you—to guide you, these lost prisoners, back onto the right path.”

“Second, it’s concern for you.”

“As a friend, isn’t it natural to care about a friend’s mood?”

The boy blinked, teasing: “Or do you not think our relationship qualifies as friendship?”

Friend?

Luciel pressed her lips together, her teeth gently biting her lower lip.

“...”

The Fallen Angel didn’t hesitate long. She floated forward, returning before Herbert, head bowed, whispering: “I’m sorry. About what I saw in the vision—I can’t tell you anything.”

Herbert smiled at her obedient demeanor.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

He raised his hand and gently lifted the veil blocking Luciel’s eyes.

“Look at me.”

Herbert gazed at the Fallen Angel, eyes shut, expression flustered, and said seriously: “Luciel, open your eyes. Look into mine.”

“Instead of fixating on futures that haven’t happened, focus on the reality right before you.”

“I’m right here.”

Herbert fell silent, waiting for Luciel’s reaction.

Open your eyes and look at me—I don’t believe you can stare into nothingness!

“...”

Luciel seemed deeply shaken. Her thick lashes trembled, several times trying to open her eyes.

She hesitated.

Could she really show him her most vulnerable side?

She was Archangel. A rebel against the gods. A... no, she was nothing now.

In this prison, she was merely a prisoner.

And a prisoner showing weakness to the warden—wasn’t that acceptable?

Besides, he was...

Luciel made her decision. She suddenly opened her eyes.

In her unique orbs, countless pupils gazed simultaneously at the smiling boy before her.

This boy was unlike anyone she had ever met.

Perhaps... she could truly show him her softest side.

“Heh. You finally look at me.”

Herbert softly laughed, then opened his arms naturally toward Luciel.

This time, the Fallen Angel didn’t hesitate. She rushed into the boy’s embrace.

“He’s right.”

Luciel silently felt it, whispering to herself: “Compared to that vision, this warmth is the true reality.”

At the same moment Luciel reflected, Herbert turned his head slightly, glancing at the mirror’s reflection.

“By the way... there’s someone else here.”

The figure in the mirror stared at Herbert with a strange expression, as if holding back a thousand words.

“Heh.”

The boy placed a finger to his lips, silently signaling “quiet,” and winked at the Mirror Spirit.

Don’t interfere now.

Just watch quietly.

And don’t make a sound, okay~?

(End of Chapter)