Chapter 268: Chapter 268: The Peace Treaty and Its Problems

What did he think?

Ethan, of course, was all for peace. He wasn’t some bloodthirsty maniac or a war-hungry zealot; he had no deep-seated grudge against the three factions. Moreover, his grand plan involved getting his hands on the bloodline talents of every race—and peace made for much better “harvesting” conditions.

“I’m naturally hoping for peace,” Ethan said, leaning back. “But will things really go that smoothly?” He shifted his gaze toward Vali and Shemhaza. “Setting others aside, can the Fallen Angels truly guarantee they won’t come after my head?”

The death of Azazel had been suppressed for the sake of stability, but the underlying crisis remained. Azazel wasn’t just a leader; he was a legend among the Fallen. Vali was his ward, and Shemhaza was his closest comrade.

Everyone in the room was sharp. They understood Ethan’s implication instantly. The pressure shifted heavily onto the Fallen Angel side. Shemhaza, the scholar-like leader, adjusted his glasses, calculating a response that sounded both persuasive and honorable.

“Azazel took me in. Without him, I might not have lived long enough for my power to awaken,” Vali spoke up suddenly. “However, over the years, I’ve done more than enough dirty work for the Fallen Angels. The debt is paid.”

Vali Lucifer carried the genes of the Old Satans and was a half-breed of human and devil. Between a tyrannical grandfather and a twisted father, his childhood had been a living hell. He had escaped with the help of a loyal servant and was eventually sheltered by Azazel. His father was later killed by his grandfather, and his human mother’s memory was wiped before she was abandoned in the human world.

His trauma had made him precocious. He knew his “adoption” was essentially an alliance: Azazel protected the burgeoning White Dragon, and in exchange, Vali became a weapon for the Fallen. There was affection, but it was thin. After Azazel’s death, Vali had considered revenge, but he had been talked down.

“Ahem…” Shemhaza interrupted. “As his friend, Azazel’s death fills me with grief and rage. But peace was his ultimate wish. To honor that wish, no matter how bitter we feel, we will exercise restraint.”

It sounded lovely. If Ethan didn’t know that Shemhaza had a Devil wife and two half-devil children, he might have actually believed the “selfless friend” act.

“I believe the leaders here, of course,” Ethan smiled. “But what about the rats in your basements? What happens when they get restless?”

Michael, the golden-haired Seraph, spoke in a voice like silk. “Rest assured, Red Dragon Emperor. If any rats appear, feel free to exterminate them. Not only will we not hold you accountable, but we will officially thank you.”

The “rats”—the radicals who wanted war—were a headache for all three sides. Solving them was doing the leaders a favor. And who was a rat? Simple: anyone who didn’t follow the new status quo.

“Fine. Then I have no more concerns.” Ethan was satisfied. He had confirmed the stance of the Fallen and the White Dragon, and more importantly, he had secured a “license to kill” in self-defense.

“Once the treaty is signed, the most critical issue will be the survival and reproduction of our races,” Shemhaza said, removing his decorative glasses and speaking in a low, suggestive tone. “Has the Red Dragon Emperor considered visiting our headquarters? Many charming Fallen Angel maidens are quite curious about your… unique dual-cultivation abilities.”

“No thanks,” Ethan declined flatly. The Fallen Angels lacked high-tier female powerhouses. Why would he go there just to be a “selfless donor”? Besides, the Devil faction already had two top-tier targets: Grayfia, who stood behind Sirzechs, and Serafall, the only other woman at the table. Serafall was a true Satan, a powerhouse of the highest order.

“A pity,” Shemhaza muttered, tossing his glasses aside. “Then, let us sign.”

“Wait, before that, I have one question for Lord Michael.” Ethan’s impression of the Seraph was decent, so his tone was respectful.

“Please, ask away.”

“Why was Asia Argento exiled?”

Before Michael could respond, a small gasp came from the blonde nun. Asia’s expression had been troubled since she first saw Michael; Ethan had noticed and guessed the reason. Since the girl couldn’t bring herself to ask, he would do it for her. “Why cast out someone who trusted in God so purely?”

Ethan knew the answer, but it carried more weight coming from Michael’s lips.

The Seraph didn’t take offense. He explained gently, “Since God vanished in the Great War, only the ’System’ remains. It is a structure of blessings, mercy, and miracles that I am currently struggling to keep operational. Without God, the faith of believers is the fuel for this system. Therefore, we had to distance the system from anything that could cause a ’glitch’ in that faith.”

The meaning was clear. Asia’s ability to heal Devils, even if involuntary, was a heresy that would shatter the faith of common believers. Similarly, anyone who discovered that God was dead was purged to keep the system stable. The Angels were desperate to keep it running because their very survival depended on it.

Like the Devils used the “Evil Pieces” to reincarnate humans into Devils, the Angels had developed a “Brave Saint” system using a deck of playing cards (Ace through King, plus the Jokers). This system was tied directly to the Great System. If it collapsed, the Angels could no longer replenish their numbers.

Hearing the truth, Asia’s anxiety vanished, replaced by her usual, somewhat ditzy but pure smile.

“Lord Michael… having been raised by the Church, I felt some regret…” Asia looked at Ethan with deep gratitude before bowing to Michael. “But I am truly happy with my life as a Devil now.”

She had never hated the Church, but the unanswered “why” had been a thorn in her heart. Now, she could move forward as a Devil with a clear conscience.

“Thank you for your grace and understanding,” Michael said, bowing his head slightly.

As they spoke of subordinates, Shemhaza’s eyes instinctively drifted toward Raynare and her two companions standing behind Ethan. They were Azazel’s former agents, but as the current Governor, Shemhaza knew the score. He stayed silent, pretending he saw nothing.

The atmosphere was perfect. The treaty was moments away from being finalized when a violent tremor ripped through the earth.

This wasn’t a mere earthquake. Even Kiba and Tsubaki, both A-rank fighters, nearly lost their footing. Ethan had to catch Asia to keep her from slamming into the floor.

“An attack?”

The barriers surrounding the villa were shredded. Outside, the Angel and Fallen Angel guards were already locked in combat with a sudden swarm of enemies.

Shemhaza threw open a window and looked at the sky. A massive magic circle blocked out the sun. “Magicians?”

Michael joined him at the window, his brow furrowed. “Those outfits… they look like bio-alchemical clones.”

Ethan looked out. The attackers wore deep hoods, but their features were identical—mass-produced soldiers. Like the guards outside, they seemed to be around B-rank.

There were two types: one looked like an elderly male mage, and the other was a white-haired female mage with a voluptuously busty figure. Even if their faces were hidden, their curves were undeniably top-tier.

Ethan smirked. Peace was nice, but a little “cleaning” was always good for the soul—especially if the “rats” brought beautiful prizes with them. He wasn’t here to play diplomat for long. It was time to clear the board and claim the spoils.

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