Devil Slave (Satan system)

Chapter 1127: Demeter Prospers

Meanwhile, on the Eighth Earth, time had moved swiftly.

Years had passed since the demons’ rule over humanity, and the world was slowly healing. What had once been barren wastelands had now become fertile towns, and certain towns had blossomed into thriving cities.

These cities, in turn, were growing even larger, on the verge of becoming sprawling metropolises. The scars of the past were fading, replaced by new life and prosperity. But of course, could never be forgotten.

Tribes and factions began to form, based on shared histories and connections. Human-mutant groups, once scattered and broken, found solace in their kinship, forming tight-knit communities.

Others were bound by their pasts—half-born humans who had once fought side by side in the same brutal gladiator dens. Their bonds of survival grew into a brotherhood, one that defied their dark origins and forged a new future together.

The gods had returned to power, bringing with them religion and faith. Shrines and temples dedicated to the divine rose across the land, their towering spires glimmering in the sunlight.

Humans flocked to them, offering prayers and sacrifices in hopes of favor and protection. With their return, the gods brought not only their power but also a renewed sense of purpose for the people. Worship was widespread, and faith was fervent, reigniting the lost hope in human hearts.

Amidst this resurgence, the Earth itself had begun to heal.

Once desolate plains were now lush and green. Forests that had long been reduced to ashes now rose again, with towering trees reclaiming their rightful place. Rivers that had run dry were filled with clear, flowing water, and the land was once again fertile, able to sustain the growing human population. It was a rebirth, a second chance for the Earth, and at the center of it all was the quiet, subtle work of the Lenny family.

Although the Lenny family had once been celebrated for their efforts in aiding humanity’s recovery, their name had slowly faded into myth, becoming little more than a whispered legend.

This shift had been deliberate. On orders from Father Black, the head of the Lenny family, their influence moved underground. The Lenny family continued their vital work in secret, ensuring the land’s prosperity, but they did so without recognition. This allowed the gods to take center stage, accepting the praise and worship of the people.

Temples to Demeter rose in every town, with the people crediting her for the Earth’s recovery.

However, they were certain places that one could not reach on earth. Not even if they wanted to. These places had legends about them, some obstructed by storms, some by fog ,and some by mystical dark energies. Of one such place, past the storms that threatened to keep the normal man away, stood at its center a mighty city.

Once, long ago, this land had belonged to the witch Glenn—a haven of magic and mystery. The old structures, remnants of that era, still stood proudly as monuments to the arcane past. Dark, towering spires of obsidian stone jutted upward, their sharp edges laced with ancient runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light, as if still holding the last remnants of forgotten spells. These structures, with their gothic arches and intricate carvings, seemed alive, always watching, always listening.

But time had not left the city untouched. The witches’ legacy had expanded and transformed, melding with the rapid advancement of technology.

Now, Reagents City as it is known after its ruler, was an awe-inspiring fusion of the old and the new, a place where the mystical met the mechanical in perfect harmony.

Between the ancient spires, sleek metallic buildings rose, their surfaces shimmering with runic inscriptions that powered the city’s defenses and energy grids. These structures hummed with an otherworldly energy, harnessing both magic and technology to sustain the city.

In the skies above, the air was alive with movement. Vehicles crafted from the finest materials flew silently, gliding effortlessly through the air. They hovered, propelled not by engines but by advanced runes etched into their sleek bodies. These runes, glowing softly in blues and greens, allowed the vehicles to navigate through the chaotic storm that surrounded the city, undeterred by its violent winds. They carried passengers and cargo alike, drifting between the high towers of Reagents City like mechanical birds.

Beneath them, on the streets below, massive chimera insects lumbered, their insectoid forms both terrifying and mesmerizing. These creatures, the size of small trucks, were engineered hybrids, their exoskeletons fused with advanced technology. They carried cargo on their backs, their many legs moving in perfect coordination as they weaved through the streets.

The air around them was filled with the sound of their mechanical wings buzzing softly as they hovered just above the ground, keeping the city’s supply chains alive.

Despite the technological marvels, the essence of Reagents City’s mystical heritage still permeated every corner. The witches’ old council hall, a massive stone fortress, still stood in the center of the city. Its walls were lined with glyphs that shimmered in the dim light, and the air inside was thick with the scent of incense and herbs. Here, the past was alive, and it was here that Father Black, the Regent of Earth, made his home.

Father Black’s rule was quiet but absolute. From his throne in the ancient hall, he controlled the entire government of the Eighth Earth in secret. His influence spread through every part of the city, and from Reagents City, his power extended beyond the storm, affecting the lives of humans who had no idea he even existed.

His was the hand that moved the pieces on the board, guiding the fate of the Earth without ever revealing itself.

Things had been at peace for a long time, but today was not such a day. After all, today, after many years in peace, bad news was reaching his table.

Clawed, the Demon, highly regarded and respected walked into the wide spaced open room.

this place still carried the same vibe it had for many years regardless of the development that contrasted the exterior world.

According to father black, renovations were not allowed, ’No one touch my shit!’ he would say, and except augmentations on the walls using runes to make accessibility better, nothing was changed in the office.

Clawed walked up to the table and dropped a document on it. "it would seem like it has began. The priests have began to prophesy the end time."

Father black, who was facing the window turned about, age had no effect on his face, not with his power level or his origin as a ghoul as a result of the Witch’s territory.

"Hmmm! But the end as already come and gone. back in the day, almost every religion had a foretold end. its how they keep them fixed on worship and loyalty. The tool is disguised fear." father black replied.

"No, I mean this is different! look." Clawed sighed.

Father black walked over. He was dressed in simple outfit, more like an old grandpa enjoying retirement with a beach shirt and shorts, but no doubt the most influential and powerful man in this world.

He picked the document from the table and then he read it. "hmmm! Contact Victor from Imperilment, tell him to gather intel on the happenings in the underworld. His red wolves will know if something is up."