Bound By Flame and Grace

Prologue

"Ugh... Please, stop..."

Fiery red eyes stared down at the man before her, who was choking on his own blood. His cloudy eyes twitched as he screamed in agony, the force around his neck tightening with every second.

The glowing man, with one damaged wing, looked up at Lingling Kwong. Her burning red eyes seemed to pierce his soul. The archdemon stood tall, spreading her black-and-red metallic wings, her two sharp horns gleaming. She radiated authority over him.

"Why do you archangels always beg for your lives when you're about to die?" Lingling smiled mischievously. 

She raised a finger, tightening the invisible grip on his neck.

He gasped, unable to breathe, knowing he would soon die from lack of air.

Desperation flickered in his eyes as he tried to speak between faint breaths. "Mercy... I..."

"Mercy?" Lingling mocked him, her smile widening. "You ask for mercy when your kind never showed any to mine?" She leaned in closer, her wings casting a dark shadow over the trembling angel. "Pathetic, but almost cute."

The man's vision blurred, and his body convulsed as he clung to the last bits of life. Lingling watched, amused, her finger still raised as if controlling him like a puppet.

"Don't worry," she whispered, her voice softer but still cruel. "It will be over soon. But first, you'll know what it's like to be powerless."

With a final motion of her hand, the force around his neck tightened completely. The man let out a final gasp before his body went limp. Lingling lowered her hand, gazing at the lifeless body with a satisfied grin.

"Another one down," she muttered, turning away as her wings folded behind her. "How boring..."

Suddenly, thunder roared in the heavens.

Lingling felt a strange tingling at the back of her neck, spreading through her body.

Without thinking, she cast a dark orb into the sky. She knew something was brewing—a riot waiting to erupt. 

Her eyes went back to the dead man, and for a moment, she reconsidered her decision.

She hadn't planned to kill an archangel, but the man had been a complete jerk. If only he had been respectful instead of insulting her, calling her names, and cursing her own race and father. Her stubbornness had taken over, and in just a few minutes, his filthy words wiped away any trace of kindness in her.

She first encountered the man in a bustling human market, where vendors sold food and various goods. The man, a low-ranking archangel on a mission, knew she wasn't human but failed to realize her true identity. Unaware of her royal status, he casually insulted her, oblivious to the danger he was provoking.

The market buzzed with activity, filled with the scent of fresh produce and the chatter of humans going about their day. To them, she appeared as just another traveler passing through. But beneath her unassuming guise, Lingling was an archdemon of immense power—one who commanded respect.

The archangel didn't bother to watch his tongue. His thoughtless insults were aimed at someone he believed was a lesser demon. If only he had known who he was speaking to, perhaps he would have chosen his words more carefully.

Ignorance, however, sealed his fate.

I basically tortured and killed him in these lovely lavender fields that I once nurtured—my greatest sanctuary.

For her, this place is no longer pure. It has already been bathed in blood and holds the body of an angel.

This isn't my favorite place to be anymore. I need a new place to stay.

Her right hand cast a portal to her world.

But before she could step through, she sensed something above. A golden light pierced through the sky, blinding her for a moment. The intensity was overwhelming, and her feet nearly sank into the soil under the weight of the force. 

A gust of wind swept through the lavender field, sending the flowers into the air, their fragrance irritating her nose.

She hated flowers.

A surge of hatred coursed through her veins, the urge to kill rising within her. Though it didn't completely take over, she managed to control it—barely. Lingling's red eyes lifted toward the sky, bracing for the appearance of yet another archangel. 

But when she saw this one, she hesitated.

The archangel descended gracefully, her face radiant with beauty. Her eyes were like golden suns, piercing yet soft, her lips curved in an expression of determination. Even her aura, bathed in a divine glow, was mesmerizing. For a moment, Lingling found herself pausing, captivated by the angel's ethereal presence.

Then, without warning, the archangel—Orm—landed, her feet touching the ground with barely a sound. Her attack had already struck the earth, leaving the air crackling with divine energy. Orm's eyes softened as they fell upon the lifeless body of her comrade, lying at Lingling's feet. Sadness and empathy filled her golden gaze, emotions barely concealed by her otherwise calm demeanor. Her hand unconsciously tightened around her sword as she fought back her growing anger.

She glanced back at Lingling, her rage barely contained. 

Despite everything, Orm couldn't help but notice how striking Lingling was, her masculine aura clashing with a dark, powerful beauty. There was something unsettling yet alluring about her—an archdemon with undeniable charisma. 

But Orm's fury overrode any other feeling.

"How dare you," Orm whispered, her voice thick with anger. Her grip on her sword tightened as her eyes locked onto Lingling. "And you will pay for what you've done."

Lingling's smirk widened as she sensed the archangel's fury. 

She stood tall, her presence defiant and mocking, yet deep down, she knew this was not a battle she could win—not today.

As Orm raised her sword, ready to unleash a powerful divine spell, Lingling took one last glance at her.

Indeed, she's very beautiful.

Before Orm could cast the spell, Lingling vanished into her portal, her mocking smirk the last thing the archangel saw before the swirling portal sealed shut.