Chapter 43 Blood of the Morningstar
The night trembled with silence. The last curl of fire sank into ash, the wind carrying the scent of smoke and something older something divine.
Lucifer’s lips curved faintly, a shadow of a smile. “And what will you do about it?”
Across from him, Michael’s wings spread wide, feathers catching the faint shimmer of dying light. The air thickened with power as he lifted his hand. A sword of golden flame shimmered into existence, humming like a heartbeat.
“I, Michael the Archangel, the warrior of Heaven, summon you for a fight, Lucifer.”
Lucifer’s expression didn’t change. His eyes ancient, calm, unreadable met his brother’s without flinching. The wind stirred around them, whispering secrets of a prophecy that had waited eons to be fulfilled.
“It’s time,” Lucifer murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.
Michael’s grip tightened on his sword. The fury in his gaze burned brighter than the stars. But Lucifer only gave a soft, humorless laugh.
“I won’t fight you, brother. Not here. Not on Earth… where humans still breathe.”
“Then I’ll fight you anyway,” Michael said, voice low and dangerous. “Because I must.”
The heavens cracked open.
Wind tore through the clouds, lightning veining across the sky like the wrath of gods. Michael’s wings flared, a blaze of gold and power, while Lucifer’s spread like shadow and smoke. Their flight split the night light and darkness spiraling into collision.
Michael’s sword burned like the sun as he swung. The air itself screamed as steel met wing. Lucifer blocked with a sweep of feathers black as ink, sparks and ash bursting around them. The impact rippled through the atmosphere, shaking the earth below until mountains groaned.
“Brother,” Lucifer called, his voice rolling like thunder over storm-tossed clouds. “We don’t have to do this. You know that woman killed his daughter. She doesn’t deserve to live.”
Michael’s eyes blazed, molten gold under a halo of light. He hovered there, wings beating slow and furious. “And who are you to decide what she deserves?” His tone cracked with restrained rage. “You think you can meddle in Heaven’s justice?”
Lucifer’s smile curved, the kind that never reached his eyes. His voice was a low murmur smooth, dangerous, dripping with power.
“I am Lucifer Morningstar. The Father of Lies. The King of Hell. I am the darkness that knows every corner of light. And I know evil when I see it. That woman is evil, Michael. She deserves no mercy.”
Michael’s sword shimmered, reflecting the fury in his eyes. “And you,” he hissed, “don’t deserve to play God. Father will judge her not you!”
Lucifer laughed, the sound deep and echoing like thunder splitting stone. “That’s why Father gave me the right to punish them. The wicked belong to me.”
Michael’s voice tore through the air like lightning. “You have the right to punish their souls, not their living flesh!”
For a moment, silence fell thick, suffocating, the calm before another storm. Lucifer tilted his head, his gaze piercing, voice soft but deadly.
“Then it seems your mind is made up. If it’s a fight you want, brother…” He paused, wings stretching wide, a flare of shadow and flame lighting his frame. “…then follow me.”
In an instant, he vanished dark light folding around him until only the scent of burning air remained. The sky split open again as Michael ascended, his light chasing Lucifer’s darkness across the veil between worlds.
They emerged in Crimson Eden.
The realm breathed ancient power blood-red skies reflected over silver sand that shimmered like glass. The air hummed with an old peace long forgotten. Two worlds once bound in harmony now trembled beneath the weight of brothers at war.
Lucifer stood at the altar of the ancients, wings drawn close, eyes burning faintly with something between sorrow and satisfaction.
“You’ve followed me,” he said quietly, his voice carrying in the stillness. “Good. Then let it be finished.”
Michael appeared behind him in a flash of light, sword raised, eyes shining with the will of Heaven. Thunder split the scarlet sky as he struck.
Lucifer caught the blade mid-swing, the force sparking fire where their powers met. His laughter rolled from his chest, dark and unholy, filling the empty realm.
“Don’t you see, brother?” he said between laughs. “The prophecy is unfolding the one I told you about long ago. Michael the Archangel, warrior of Heaven, raises his sword against his own blood.”
Michael faltered for a heartbeat, the words sinking like lead into his spirit. He could feel it the prophecy stirring awake beneath his skin, threads of fate twisting around them both. But he didn’t lower his sword.
Lucifer’s smirk sharpened. “So it’s true then… you’ll play your part.”
He moved first.
Their wings clashed, slicing through the red air. Lightning danced between them as shadow and light collided, tearing through the stillness of Eden. Each strike was a roar of fury, each counter a flash of grief. The sky itself bled crimson.
Lucifer spun through the air and charged, his eyes burning with a terrible calm. Michael braced for impact too late.
Lucifer drove himself forward, right into Michael’s blade. The sword pierced through him, light flaring so bright it swallowed the realm whole.
For one breath, everything went still.
Lucifer’s lips curved faintly. His eyes, dimming, held the reflection of both Heaven and Hell.
“Now…” he whispered, voice fading into the wind. “…the prophecy is fulfilled.”
The light drained from the heavens. The crimson sky flickered once and then dimmed into silence. The ground trembled beneath the fallen Morningstar.
BACK TO REALITY
Morgana jolted upright, gasping. The vision shattered around her like glass. Her heartbeat roared in her ears, her palms slick with sweat. “Master…” she breathed. “That’s impossible. I cannot allow it. You know what happened the last time.”
Lucifer opened his eyes slowly. Shadows coiled across his face, dancing like living fire. His expression was unreadable, but his voice carried the weight of centuries.
“I know,” he said softly. “And that is exactly why I must go.”
“Master,” Morgana whispered, voice trembling, “you spilled your blood in Crimson Eden once. You cursed that place. You made it the wound between angels and demons. If you go back now something worse might awaken.”
Lucifer turned toward her, his eyes deep pools of fire and sorrow. “A human has already gone there,” he said, each word deliberate. “That alone has stirred the prophecy again.”
Morgana’s lips parted, her face paling. “Then it’s true…”
Lucifer’s gaze softened, the faintest crack of pain behind his calm. “It’s true,” he murmured. “And I will do anything” he paused, voice breaking low, “to make Selena live.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
My Lovely readers,
Thank you so much for reading this chapter! This one was intense, right? Lucifer and Michael’s clash has been building up for so long, and I can’t wait to hear what you all think about how it unfolded.
Do you believe Lucifer was right to do what he did or do you stand with Michael? 👀
I’d really love to read your thoughts in the comments! Your opinions always make my day and help me see the story from your perspective.