Devil Slave (Satan system)

Chapter 1054: A Coincidental Meeting

As Agent X watched the chaos unfolding below, a sudden sensation prickled at the back of his mind. It was a feeling he knew all too well, an instinct honed through years of battles and the peculiar sensitivity to those of his bloodline. Someone was near—someone closely connected to his lineage.

Out of the blue, a whisper reached his ears, chilling and laden with malevolence. "I see, you must be my great-grandson. Why don’t you die and allow your elder to take the marks you have acquired?"

Before he could fully process the words, Agent X felt an overwhelming force behind him, like a void threatening to consume him. Acting on pure instinct, he ignited his hell flames and leapt away, somersaulting through the air. He landed on the ground far from his ship, only to find the same void-like palm inches from his face once more.

In an instant, he unleashed a torrent of hell flames. The area around him exploded, incinerating several nether creatures caught in the blast. The explosion left a smoldering crater in its wake, and as the dust settled, a figure emerged from the shadows.

To Agent X’s surprise, it was a young boy, no older than twelve, with the characteristic dark skin and pointed ears of a dark elf. The boy’s smile was unsettlingly serene, his eyes glinting with ancient knowledge and a hint of mischief.

Agent X raised a questioning brow, his stance guarded. The boy chuckled, a sound both eerie and disarming. "I know, right? I seem to have reincarnated into a very young form, but I can tell you can feel it too, great-grandson."

Agent X frowned, his mind racing to comprehend the situation. "So, you are the bloodline I was sensing!"

The boy’s smile faltered slightly, a look of mild annoyance crossing his youthful features. "You too. Although you don’t look as young as the trace I had sensed, and I had thought the bloodline would be younger. But here you are."

Agent X studied the boy, his eyes narrowing. Despite the child’s appearance, there was an unmistakable aura of power and age emanating from him, a testament to the dark and twisted lineage they shared. The boy’s demeanor, confident and self-assured, hinted at the dangerous potential within.

"Who are you?" Agent X demanded, his voice a low growl.

The boy’s smile returned, sharper and more predatory. "Names are trivial, but you can call me Seraphiel. I’m here to claim what is rightfully mine, great-grandson. The marks you possess—they belong to me."

Agent X’s frown deepened. He could feel the foul in the air, the palpable threat this child posed. But he was not one to back down, especially from a challenge that touched so close to his core. "You’ll have to take them by force, then," he replied, his voice steady and resolute.

Seraphiel’s eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "Oh, I intend to."

The two stood facing each other, the ground beneath them scorched and battle-worn.

Within the eerie confines of Agent X’s ship, a demon hurried through dark, twisting corridors to reach a chamber unlike any other. The room itself was an anomaly, a swirling mass of darkness and emptiness that defied the natural order of space. Walls seemed to fold and twist into each other, creating a nauseating, vertiginous effect.

This void was neither solid nor liquid, but a space where reality bent to the whims of the entity within.

The demon, clad in ceremonial armor adorned with ancient runes, entered the room and immediately dropped to one knee.

The air was thick with an oppressive, almost suffocating presence. He addressed the swirling void with reverence, "Your eminence, Principality. The Elder has come under assault. From the looks of it, it is a mark bearer. Should we battle?"

The room fell silent, a silence so profound it seemed to press against the demon’s very soul. Then, words began to appear, glowing in the darkness, written in a script older than time itself. The runes floated in midair, their meaning incomprehensible to most, but the demon understood them perfectly. Alongside the runes, an ancient, guttural voice emanated from the void, speaking in the archaic tongue of demons, Bellysbable, a language that seemed to resonate with the very fabric of the universe.

"Leave them. Only one with the mark can take from another with the mark," the Principality commanded.

The demon bowed deeply, inching backward without ever turning his back on the swirling mass, his movements slow and reverent. The oppressive atmosphere of the room seemed to lift slightly as he exited, the void returning to its restless, chaotic state.

Meanwhile, within the underground city, the Elven Queen observed the unfolding events with a weary but determined gaze. The ritual with Luca had drained her, yet her responsibilities as ruler could not be set aside.

Through the enchanted eyes of the towering statues that guarded the city’s entrance, she watched as the nether creatures and various supernatural beings clashed above.

The statues, ancient and powerful, provided her with a clear vision of the battlefield. Their massive, muscular forms stood sentinel over the city, weapons poised as if ready to strike. Through their eyes, she saw the chaotic dance of battle, the flashes of magic and the clash of steel, the cries of the fallen, and the roars of the victorious.

"They arrived fast!" she remarked, her voice carrying a mixture of surprise and resolve. Despite her fatigue, she moved with purpose, issuing precise instructions to her royal guards. "Prepare your weapons for war, but do not act until I give the order," she commanded, her tone brooking no dissent.

The royal guards, clad in ornate armor and armed with weapons forged from the finest Elven craftsmanship, moved swiftly to comply. Their faces were grim but determined, understanding the gravity of the situation.

The Queen knew that the battle above was only a prelude to the larger conflict that loomed over her city. All because of the boy. But right now, it was too late for her to even regret. all she could do was hope that this coincidence of the two uninvited guest should end between them.

As she watched, she felt a deep sense of foreboding. The nether gate had been sealed, but the threat was far from over.

The Queen’s keen eyes took in every detail, from the movements of the enemy to the readiness of her own forces. The underground city was a place of beauty and magic, but it was also a fortress, and she was prepared to defend it to her last breath.

The young elf boy, Seraphiel, who had seemingly materialized from thin air, began to pace leisurely around Agent X, his hands clasped behind his back.

His eyes, though youthful in appearance, gleamed with an ancient, predatory wisdom. He stopped in front of Agent X, his gaze locking onto him with a mocking intensity.

"You seem tense, boy. Were you not the one who said you were ready?" His eyes flashed a predatory red, a sharp contrast to his otherwise serene demeanor, as if mocking Agent X’s readiness.

Agent X, despite knowing his own superiority in Demon rank and power, felt an unsettling discomfort deep within his soul. This boy, who should have been no more than a minor threat, exuded an aura that made even a seasoned warrior like Agent X wary. It was a feeling that gnawed at the edges of his confidence, a primal warning of danger.

Deciding to take no chances, Agent X waved his hands, summoning his dragon guns. The twin firearms, ornately designed and crackling with infernal energy, appeared in his grip.

"Hmm! Guns!" Seraphiel shook his head with a hint of amusement. "In my time, those were just party toys. But no matter! If it gives you confidence, I don’t mind."

As he spoke, Seraphiel moved with blinding speed, appearing to the side of Agent X in a blur. Agent X’s instincts kicked in, and he raised his arm, firing his pistols in defense.

The bullets, infused with hellfire, hurtled towards Seraphiel. However, something extraordinary happened.

With a casual wave of his palm, Seraphiel struck the bullets aside, his hand moving so fast it was almost a blur. The hellfire-infused projectiles were deflected as if they were mere pebbles, sent spiraling harmlessly into the air. Agent X’s eyes widened in surprise.

Determined to break through this unexpected defense, Agent X fired more shots in rapid succession, his pistols blazing with infernal fury. Each shot was met with the same result. Seraphiel’s arm moved with lightning speed, his palm smacking away the bullets with effortless precision. The air was filled with the sound of metal clinking against metal as the bullets were deflected in all directions.

Agent X’s expression hardened. He could not afford to be outdone. He continued firing, his stance firm, but the elf boy’s mocking smile never wavered. The young elf’s movements were almost graceful, each deflection a fluid motion that spoke of years of practice and innate skill.

The elf boy’s eyes never left Agent X’s, their predatory gleam growing more pronounced with each deflected shot. "Is this all you’ve got, boy?" he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. "Show me something worth my time..."