"Do not look at me like that," Solomon said.
Lucian's smile remained polite. "Like what, Master Solomon?"
"Like a starving wolf."
Lilith laughed softly.
Lucifer closed his eyes for a moment, as if praying for patience to someone he had no intention of listening to.
Lucian lowered his head slightly. "That is a surprisingly accurate description."
"That was not meant as a compliment."
"With respect, I have learned that many interesting people say that when they accidentally give one."
Solomon stared at him. Then he looked at Lucifer. "He speaks too much like you."
Lucifer opened his eyes. "I consider that one of his better qualities."
"I don't."
"That is why your opinion was not requested."
Solomon snorted and turned back to Lucian. "Before you start calling me master with that charming little smile, understand something first."
Lucian's eyes sharpened.
"There it is," Solomon muttered. "That hungry look again."
"I am listening."
"No." Solomon tapped his wooden staff once against the floor. "You are preparing to devour me."
Lucian said nothing.
The old king smiled. "At least you know when not to deny the truth."
Lucian's smile deepened slightly.
Lilith watched them both with quiet amusement. Lucifer only leaned back, his expression calm, but Lucian knew his father well enough to see the interest hidden beneath it.
Solomon walked past Lucian.
"Come."
Lucian turned. "Where?"
"Somewhere less dramatic."
Lucian looked around the Hall of Thrones. "This hall is dramatic?"
Solomon continued walking, and the doors at the end of the hall opened
Lucian followed.
Lucifer and Lilith came behind them, silent and unhurried. The four of them moved through the palace corridors, passing guards who lowered their heads so quickly their horns nearly touched their chests.
A quiet, "Rise," when one young guard trembled too long. Solomon saw that too. Lucian felt him seeing it.
"You remember them?" Solomon said.
Lucian did not look at him. "Should I not?"
"Most princes remember titles before faces."
"Then most princes deserve lonely thrones."
Lilith smiled.
"Oh," she murmured. "That was beautiful~"
Lucian glanced at her. "I try."
"Fufufu~," she said. "That is what make you very charming~"
Solomon resumed walking. "You are not what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"More arrogance."
Lucian tilted his head slightly. "I am arrogant."
"Not blindly."
"I would hate to be an asshole." Lucian corrected.
Solomon's mouth twitched, but he continued walking. They did not descend below the palace as Solomon stopped in the middle of the corridor.
Lucian paused beside him. "Is something wrong?"
"No," Solomon said.
Solomon lifted his staff. He only turned it once in his hand, slow and casual, as if opening a door no one else could see.
A golden line appeared in the air before them. Then another. Then seven more, crossing each other in a pattern too clean to be decoration. The lines bent inward, folding space like silk, until a circular gate opened in the middle of the corridor.
The portal did not lead to Hell. That was the first thing Lucian noticed.
Beyond the gate was green.
Endless green.
A wide realm stretched under a bright sky, filled with rolling fields, silver rivers, and ancient trees whose leaves shimmered like glass touched by sunlight. The air that came through the portal was cool and clean, carrying the scent of grass, old rain, and something faintly sweet.
Lucian went still. It was not the mortal world. It was not Heaven. It was not Hell.
It stood somewhere between them, a quiet place caught between realms, untouched by the noise of kingdoms and thrones.
At the center of it all stood a single tower. It rose from the green land like a spear of white stone, wrapped in golden vines and floating rings of script. Its windows burned with soft light. Around it, countless small streams curved in perfect circles, forming symbols Lucian did not recognize.
He knew Infernal, Abyssal, Ancient Greek, Latin, and many dead languages Lucifer had once called "useful only when someone tries show off to impress you."
These symbols belonged to none of them. Solomon glanced back. "You are frowning."
"I dislike not knowing things."
Lucian smiled.
"I may enjoy your lessons."
"Hohoho~ I'll make you hate them first brat."
"That sounds promising."
Solomon stepped through the portal, Lucian followed.
The moment his foot touched the grass, the air changed around him. Hell's weight faded from his shoulders, replaced by something quieter and older. For some reason, that made Lucian like it more.
Solomon continued walking toward the tower.
"This is your realm?" Lucian asked.
"My private residence."
Lucian looked around at the rivers, trees, and endless fields. "You live very modestly."
Solomon snorted. "I have lived in palaces. They are noisy, political, and full of people who think gold improves their intelligence."
"And this place?"
"This place is peaceful."
Lucian's gaze returned to the tower.
The floating scripts around it shifted slowly, like thoughts turning in sleep.
"And the tower?"
Solomon's smile was faint.
"My workshop. My library. My prison, on bad days. My sanctuary, on better ones."
Lucian's eyes brightened.
Solomon noticed. "Do not look at my tower like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you are already planning to rob it."
Lucian's smile was flawless. "I would ask permission first~"
"That is what worries me."
They reached the tower doors.
They were white stone, carved with names Lucian could not read. The letters shifted when he looked too long, refusing to settle into one language.
Solomon touched the door with two fingers.
The tower opened, they stepped inside and stopped. The tower was larger inside.
Shelves spiraled upward into impossible height. Books floated between rings of light. Chains held certain scrolls shut. Glass spheres drifted through the air, each one containing a sealed flame, shadow, feather, tooth, crown, or whisper.
At the center of the room stood a circular platform marked with seventy-two empty seats.
Lucian's gaze sharpened.
"Seventy-two."
Solomon smiled faintly. "Hohoho~ You recognize the number immediately."
"I recognize enough to become curious."
"That is usually where trouble begins."
"For whom?"
Solomon looked at him.
Lucian's smile was flawless.
Solomon sighed. "For me, apparently."
He tapped his staff once against the floor. Three golden circles appeared on the platform. Inside each circle, something stirred.
The first circle held a demon.
Its body was large, hunched, and wrapped in black chains. Horns curved from its skull, cracked at the edges. Its claws pressed against the seal, and its eyes burned with hatred sharp enough to cut through the air.
The second circle held something brighter.
An angelic remnant.
Not an angel, not anymore. Whatever it had once been was broken now. White-gold light clung to its folded wings, and its face remained hidden beneath a veil of radiance. It did not scream nor struggle as if waiting for judgement.
The third circle held a human soul, that surprised Lucian.
The soul looked like a king. Or the memory of one. A rusted crown hovered above his head, and chains wrapped around his wrists. His eyes were open, intelligent, and full of the kind of fear men developed only after consequences finally caught up to them.
Solomon stepped aside.
"Choose."
Lucian looked at him. "Choose what?"
"Which one deserves freedom."
The demon grinned. The human king straightened at once. The angelic remnant did not move.
Lucian was silent and Solomon watched him.
Lucian walked closer to the platform. His steps were unhurried, his hands folded behind his back, his expression calm.
He stopped before the demon first. The creature's lips curled.
"Prince of Hell," it growled. "Release me, and I will tear your enemies apart."
Lucian's gaze rested on the demon with polite interest.
"My enemies?"
"Yes."
"All of them?"
The demon grinned. "Every last one."
"How generous."
The demon's grin widened. "Then you accept?"
"No."
The grin faltered.
Lucian stepped closer to the seal, his hands still folded behind his back.
"You offer slaughter as if it is loyalty. You offer violence as if Hell lacks teeth. Worse, you offer me revenge without even asking who my enemies are."
His smile remained beautiful.
"A blade that swings at anything pointed toward it is not a weapon, little beast. It is a liability."
The demon's claws scraped against the seal.
"I can serve."
"No," Lucian said softly. "You are worthless to me, a failure."
Lucian moved on, he stopped before the angelic remnant. It did not lift its head.
"Do you have nothing to say?" Lucian asked.
The remnant's voice came soft and hollow. "I have said enough in my life."
Lucian's eyes narrowed slightly, then he moved to the third circle.
The human king sank to one knee inside the seal the moment Lucian approached.
"Mercy, Your Highness," the soul said. His voice trembled, but not enough to hide the old habit of command beneath it. "I was a ruler once. I made mistakes, yes, but I can still serve. I can advise. I can be useful."
Lucian studied him.
The king lowered his head further. "I only ask for freedom."
"Useful?" Lucian repeated. "How interesting... You do not ask to atone. You do not ask to repair what you broke. You do not even ask what price freedom would demand of you."
The human king stiffened.
Lucian's gaze lowered to the rusted crown above the man's head.
"You kneel beautifully," he said. "Too beautifully. Like a man who learned humility only after the throne was taken from him."
The king's lips parted, but no answer came.
Lucian looked back at Solomon. "This is a poor question."
Solomon's eyebrow rose.
"A poor question?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because deserving freedom and being safe with freedom are different things."
The human king froze. The demon's eyes narrowed. The angelic remnant finally lifted its head.
Lucian turned back to the three circles.
"Deserving is a pleasant word, clean and noble. Easy to put in a prayer or carve beneath a statue." His smile softened by a fraction. "But rulers who depend on pleasant words tend to leave graves behind."
Solomon's smile thinned.
Lucian's gaze moved to the demon first.
"That one does not want liberty, it wants permission. Release it, and it will call slaughter loyalty until someone stronger reminds it of fear."
The demon snarled, but Lucian ignored it and looked at the human king.
"That one does not want mercy. It wants escape. The cage has taught him terror, not regret. He kneels because the floor is all he has left."
The human soul trembled.
Finally, Lucian looked at the angelic remnant. "And that one…"
He paused. The remnant remained still beneath its veil of broken light.
Lucian's eyes narrowed slightly. "That one is the most dangerous."
Solomon's gaze sharpened.
"It does not beg. It does not threaten. It does not bargain. Perhaps it has accepted its punishment? Perhaps it believes itself too pure to plead before the son of Hell."
Lucian's smile faded. "Either way, silence is not innocence. Sometimes it is only pride with better manners."
Then he asked, "So who deserves freedom?"
"No one."
The tower went quiet again. Solomon leaned on his staff. "Cruel."
"No," Lucian said. "Careful."
"Different word. Same blade."
"Not always."
Lucian's smile returned faintly.
"A cruel ruler enjoys the cage. A careful one asks what breaks if it opens."
Solomon stared at him. Then, slowly, he smiled.
"Good."
Lucian tilted his head. "Was that the correct answer?"
"There was no correct answer."
"How annoying."
"That was the test."
"More annoying."
Solomon laughed once.
The three circles sank into the floor. The demon cursed until the seal swallowed its voice. The human king reached out as if still hoping for mercy. The angelic remnant only looked at Lucian. For one brief second, Lucian felt its gaze through the veil.
Solomon tapped his staff again.
"First lesson," he said. "Power is cheap."
Lucian turned to him.
"Kings have power. Gods have power. Monsters have power. Even fools can be born with enough strength to ruin a city." Solomon's eyes stayed on him. "Strength is not rare, Prince Morningstar. Direction is."
Lucian said nothing. He listened properly, this time.
Solomon raised one hand, and a thin strip of parchment appeared between his fingers.
A name was written on it.
Lucian looked at the letters. T
The symbols twisted between languages, refusing to settle into one shape. Latin, Sumerian, Hebrew, and something older. Something almost familiar, but not enough to be grasped.
"A name," Solomon said, "is not a label."
The parchment burned. It became a small black bird with three eyes and iron feathers.
The moment Solomon spoke, the world stopped moving. For one breath, everything inside the tower froze as if reality itself had been caught by the throat.
The bird hung in the air with its beak open. The pages of the floating books stopped turning. The golden scripts circling the tower paused mid-rotation. Even the wind outside the windows seemed to forget where it was going.
Then the bird's scream vanished. Its beak was still open. Its wings still strained. Its body still fought against the seal. But the sound no longer existed.
Lucian's fingers twitched.
His eyes sharpened. "You did not silence it," he said slowly.
Solomon looked at him.
Lucian stared at the frozen bird, then at the unmoving scripts around them.
"You made the world refuse its voice," he added, then looked Solomon. "You manipulated the law of the world."
Solomon tapped his staff once against the floor and the world moved again.
Pages turned again, scripts flowed naturally, the wind returned, and the bird struggled harder, but still no sound came from its throat.
Solomon smiled. "Good."
Lucian's eyes brightened.
"Force would have crushed the sound. A seal would have blocked it. But this…" His smile appeared slowly. "This is different. You changed the condition of the space itself. In this place, under your authority, that creature is no longer allowed to make sound."
Solomon's smile deepened.
"Force says obey because I am stronger," he said. "Law says obey because the world agrees I am allowed to command."
Lucian looked back at the bird, it was still screaming, but no sound comes out.
His smile turned sharper. "That is far more interesting than power."
Solomon sighed. "And far more dangerous when said by someone smiling like that."