Far off in the Land of Light, clouds moved that Ouyang couldn’t see. What he did know was this: a fool had flown into the Demon King’s City.

An angel with white wings hung over the Outer Region, a swan pinned to a blue canvas. He looked down, cold as a knife’s edge. If the king of the Land of Light were here, he’d name that face: the Divine Messenger.

“Humph. Heretics who abandoned light...” Golden radiance spilled from the wings behind him, a sunburst that painted him holy from below. “Pitiful mortals, return to the Goddess’s arms. Kneel, pray to Her!”

Most folk in the Outer Region were ordinary. Legends had angels, sure, but this was their first breathing one. They didn’t drop to their knees like citizens of the Land of Light. Beliefs differed; hearts here were tempered like iron in rain. Strange things crawled out of the Inner Region now and then. To live, every tribe had trained their nerves to stone. So one angel wasn’t enough to choke them silent.

Up above, the angel spread his wings. Holy light flared, noon-bright, stabbing mortal eyes. Yet it didn’t go how he expected. In the Land of Light, this pose made crowds kneel on reflex. Here, in Miracle City, the mortals didn’t kneel. They whispered, like theatergoers passing popcorn. The angel watched, and a sour feeling grew—he was the monkey in someone else’s street show. Their eyes said it: they were here for the spectacle.

His pride snagged. A gold spear formed in his hand, runes circling him like coiling serpents.

“Mortals, kneel at once. I, Daniel, descend with the Goddess’s will. My body bears Her decree! Kneel, and let holy light wash away your sin!”

His voice rolled across every corner of the Outer Region, a bell shaking dust from eaves. Folk from every clan looked up at the angel blazing like a second sun.

“An angel. That’s an angel, right?”

“Yeah. First time I’ve seen one.”

Fingers pointed at the “big light ball” in the sky. The grown-ups wore the lazy grin of spectators. The kids, bright-eyed, stared up with sparrow excitement. Some even hopped, trying to snag the angel out of the sky.

A tavern owner heard the street boil and stepped out, wiping his hands.

“Boss, that’s an angel. An angel!” A bar-back—sixteen, maybe—worked for him on weekdays. The owner didn’t show surprise or joy. He stood a moment, face twisting like knotted wood. Then he barked, “Damn. What an idiot.”

In the owner’s eyes, that angel was brain-dead. This was Miracle City. The city’s faith was the Void Messenger. For an angel to float in and pull this stunt—what else but stupid? Like an official from one nation walking into another and demanding their taxes.

Tell me that’s not idiocy.

His curse lit nods around him. The dwarves, hot-blooded as kettles, bristled. If the angel hadn’t flown so high, they’d already be brawling in the air.

Less talk, more fists—that was their creed. The angel had toggled a city-wide taunt. “Sin, my ass. Where’d this fool crawl from? If he lands, I’ll pulp him.”

The elves felt the same sting. One elf girl had already nocked an arrow at Daniel’s shining chest. Another elf tugged her sleeve, and the bow eased down. Otherwise, Daniel might’ve eaten a shaft on the spot.

“Dad, let’s tell big-brother City Lord!” Angus’s youngest had chatted with Ouyang months ago. Ouyang had admitted he was the City Lord. So the boy thought of running to tell him.

“Right. The City Lord needs to hear this.”

Angus knew angels weren’t foes for common folk. He pinned his hopes on the City Lord. He grabbed for his boy’s arm to head for the Inner Region—then noticed the kid was gone.

“Grover? Grover? Where are you?” Miracle City was busy, but not so crowded you lost a child in one blink. Angus spotted his boy not far off.

“Dad, I’m taking Little Pu and the others to find City Lord big brother!” The kid and a knot of children sprinted toward the Inner Region. Normally, Angus would never let him near that dangerous gate. But urgency bit at him. If Grover ran to the Inner Region now, he might not get scolded—he might become a little hero.

Grover and his buddies hopped their way to the Inner Region gate. Everyone knew the City Lord’s manor wasn’t in the Outer Region. It sat inside.

“Uncle Skeleton, we need the City Lord. Can we go in? There’s a thing called an angel out there. He’s yelling he’ll purify us all!” The kids chimed in, voices chirping over each other. The skeletal guards got the gist, yet still barred them from entering.

No reply came. The kids fidgeted, anxious as cats in rain. They figured the skeletons were too dumb to understand, so they kept chattering explanations. Minutes passed. The skeletons stood dutiful and still, stone statues in armor. The kids’ throats went hoarse. Quiet finally fell.

They were chewing on new ways to phrase it when a group walked out from the Inner Region.

The instant Grover saw them, joy hopped in his chest. “City Lord big brother! City Lord big brother!” He tiptoed and waved like a little reed. He spotted Ouyang in the crowd and dashed straight at him.

“You’re the kid who said you’d bring your neighbors over last time, right?” Ouyang remembered him. At Ouyang’s level, memory stuck like carvings in jade.

“Yeah, yeah!” Grover panted, cheeks flushed cherry. “City Lord big brother, bad news. An angel came to the Outer Region. He said he’ll purify all of us!”

“The skeletons told me. If you hadn’t run up to them, we wouldn’t have known.”

The Inner and Outer Regions were split by a barrier. The angel’s voice couldn’t cross it. Ouyang hadn’t heard the idiot. He patted Grover’s head, a small reward. Then he lifted his eyes to the “sun” hanging above.

He thought for a breath. Then his feet left the ground. He lifted into the sky like a crane catching wind.

“Wow. Big brother flew. So cool!” Grover’s eyes shone, worship bright as candles. His little friends were the same.

Ouyang glided toward the angel who kept declaiming to the clouds.

“Who? A wicked heretic?”

Ouyang stopped level with the angel, face calm as still water. He didn’t bite at the label. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m the City Lord here. Ahem. Honored angel, may I ask you a few questions?”

Daniel had planned to snatch Ouyang out of the air. But the masses below stared up like a thousand open mouths. He wanted a good impression. So he nodded, generous for show.

“Here’s the thing, Sir Angel. Would you say you’re... staffed, or just... special?”

“Staffed? No. I carry a spear.” Daniel lifted his weapon, a lance spun from holy light, and gave Ouyang the look you give an idiot. It was obvious, wasn’t it? Did the man have eyes?

His IQ felt ten feet taller. His guard dropped. With such a straw-headed City Lord, this place couldn’t be that dangerous.

“Oh, I see. Then, Sir Angel, do you make cents— or are you just... senseless?”

“Cents? As a noble angel, I never carry mortal coin.”

The more he looked, the dumber Ouyang seemed. These were questions a child could answer. Angels stood above mortals. Money? Pay for things? Even if mortals sobbed and offered gifts, angels might refuse.

Ouyang wore a shocked face, floating, then covered a cough, like hiding awkwardness. “Sir Angel, do you hawk blades— or are you simply base?”

“Hawk blades? We would never sell weapons.”

He answered with scorn, chin high. And for this “idiot,” his patience thinned. “Mortal, kneel and pray to the Goddess. Let holy light scrub your soul.”

Ouyang drew back a little, as if cowed, a scholar windblown by a shout. The Outer Region boiled when their City Lord got treated like that. Voices rose, curses sharp as thrown stones. The Light Church stuck its nose too far into other lives. The tribes here weren’t rigid about faith. They sided with whoever gave them good days. If angels broke those good days, that was war.

“Sir Angel, I... I have one last question.” His meek act pleased Daniel, a small, sour joy. Daniel snorted and allowed it. “Sir Angel in the heavens, why don’t you... eat arrows?”

“Huh? I like carrying a spear. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, no. It’s just, back home we say: spearmen are cursed with low luck.” Ouyang tossed the line and drifted back toward the Inner Region gate. He looked at the Demon Kings around him and shrugged.

“Brothers, verdict reached. The angel’s an idiot. Who wants to teach him some manners?”