CHAPTER 442: A GREED DEMON DOING CHARITY?

Chapter 442 – A Greed Demon Doing Charity?

She looked up at him, eyes red-rimmed and glistening.

Lux reached into his robe, pulled out a handkerchief, and handed it to her.

Then he smiled again—wider this time. The kind of grin that made demons nervous and angels call meetings.

Miss Elly blinked. "What are you—"

"Go inside with the kids," Lux said.

She hesitated. "But—"

"This place?" He gestured around them. "It’s the best place for you and them now. There’s no pain here. No hunger. No sorrow. They’ll laugh again. Run. Dream."

Her lips trembled. "But I could’ve—"

"You couldn’t. And trying to undo it? That’s not kindness. That’s cruelty. They made it. They reached the light. Don’t drag them back to the fire."

Miss Elly stood in stunned silence.

Lux stepped forward, lowering his voice.

"Believe me. I’ve seen the other side. I know what suffering looks like. This?" He swept his hand across the golden hallway. "This is not suffering."

He leaned closer.

Smiled.

And now it was the incubus smile.

The one sharp enough to negotiate with gods. The one that slipped into courts and meetings like perfume and poison.

"This place has top-tier facilities," he whispered with a wink. "Their gardens are unreal. The food’s all vegan, but somehow still amazing. And your wings? Yeah. You’re gonna look good in them."

Miss Elly laughed softly through her tears.

"You’re a good man," she whispered.

"I’m an interrealm businessman."

He straightened his robe.

"And whatever happened in the mortal realm?" he added, voice cooling now, eyes flashing beneath his lashes. "Just leave that to me."

Miss Elly looked up, searching his face.

Then nodded slowly. "Okay."

Lux offered his arm like a gentleman escorting a duchess.

She took it.

Together, they walked back toward the waiting line of children. The moment they spotted her, the group lit up. Hands waved. Feet bounced. Smiles broke across young faces like sunbeams.

She let go of Lux’s arm, rushing forward. The kids swarmed her.

Lux stepped back, silent again.

He watched as she crouched and hugged them all. The little girl from earlier grabbed her around the waist. The boy waved at him again.

Lux waved back.

And when the gates shimmered open behind them—gold light spilling out, warm and radiant—Miss Elly turned one last time.

"Thank you," she mouthed.

Lux just nodded.

The gates closed behind them.

He stood alone again, the marble quiet, the scent of flowers too clean for comfort.

The staff angel walked back to his side, arms crossed.

"You didn’t have to get involved."

He looked at her sideways. "And yet I did."

She stared at him for a long moment.

Then sighed. "Lady Celestaria is waiting."

Lux didn’t move.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing just enough to signal something wasn’t quite right.

"No," he said. Calm. Steady. "She’s already here."

The staff angel blinked, wings stiffening.

And then the light behind him shifted.

Barely a breeze.

No flare, no trumpet, no divine entrance with clouds and chorus.

Just... presence.

She was standing there already.

Lady Celestaria.

Tall. Composed. Blinding in a way that didn’t require brightness. Her aura didn’t scream look at me—it simply demanded silence. Her hair braided neatly. Her robe shimmered like it had been stitched by time itself.

And her eyes?

Sharp.

Sharp enough to gut.

"You know you can’t kill mortals," she said coolly, "without breaching the agreement between the Upper and Lower Realms."

Lux turned slowly.

Met her gaze.

"I’m aware," he said, not even blinking. "Don’t worry. I have my own way."

Her eyes narrowed a fraction.

Then she stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Calm as always.

As her feet touched the marble beside his, a rune flared to life beneath them—clean, symmetrical celestial markings swirling in a circle of light, wrapping around their ankles.

Teleportation.

Non-verbal. Elegant. Instant.

He hated how smooth it was.

No flash. No transition. One blink and they were somewhere else.

Her office.

It always smelled like sage and starlight in here. The air was colder, but not in a hostile way. The walls were high, lined with glass that wasn’t glass, overlooking illusions of celestial gardens that probably didn’t even exist. Everything gleamed—soft whites, pale golds, marble floors with patterns too precise for mortal minds to notice.

Lux stepped forward, adjusting his robe and making his way to the plush chair across from hers.

He didn’t wait for permission.

She didn’t offer it.

They were past that kind of dance.

He sat.

So did she.

A soft chime echoed, and her assistant appeared with practiced grace—one of those androgynous seraph types with robes too clean and expressions too blank.

A glass of milk was set on the table beside Lux. Then a small silver plate.

Cookies.

Angel-shaped.

He stared at them.

Seriously?

Celestaria sipped her tea in silence, eyes studying him like he was a misbehaving child and a bomb at the same time.

"You know them?" she asked softly.

Lux glanced at the cookies again. Frosted white. Halo sprinkles. One of them had a little harp.

"I do," he said. "From the mortal realm. I donated to their orphanage once."

Her eyes didn’t move. "A Greed demon doing charity?"

He picked up the glass of milk, swirled it once, then took a sip. Cold. Perfectly sweet. He hated that it was good.

"Is this your PR movement?" she asked, tone still cool.

"No," he said, setting the glass down. "I never reported it. Not to the Infernal Court. Not to you."

He picked up a cookie and turned it over.

"All money was personal. No contracts. No strings. Just a favor. A silent one."

Celestaria hummed softly, like a harp string being plucked.

"I see..."

She took another slow sip of her tea, and the silence between them thickened. Not awkward—just heavy. Like both of them were waiting for the other to blink.

Her voice broke the pause.

"You’re mad," she said simply.

He exhaled.

"I am," he admitted. "But don’t worry."