Devil Slave (Satan system)

Chapter 1130: The Powers Of The Royal Demon Families Gather.

In the infinite expanse of the void, a rare meeting was being called, one that had not occurred since the fall of the morningstar.

The void itself was a dark, silent realm, untouched by time, space, or any physical law. It stretched endlessly, a place that existed beyond the known planes of existence.

It was here, amidst this ethereal emptiness, that the Powers had chosen to meet. These were no ordinary demons—each of them was the head of one of the Royal Demon Families, those closest to ascending into the rank of the Evening Star, beings whose power was so vast, they could erase entire worlds with a mere thought.

They ruled after their respective Primordial demons and were heads to the Principalities beneath them. As such, they were known as Powers.

They were both feared and revered, even among the highest echelons of the Underworld. And now, they had come together for a common cause, though distrust lingered heavily in the air.

First to appear was Grammelion, the Power of Greed and acting head of the Mammon family. His arrival was marked by the sickening sound of clinking coins and the rustling of riches.

His form was twisted, yet resplendent—his skin gleamed like molten gold, and his eyes glowed with the green hue of eternal avarice.

Every inch of him was adorned with precious metals and gemstones, his robes spun from the purest platinum, yet there was a hollowness to him, a void where his heart should have been. He hovered slightly off the ground, surrounded by spectral chains of wealth and material possession, their weight never bearing down upon him but always dragging behind. His fingers, elongated and gnarled, flexed restlessly, always grasping for more. The gleam in his eyes betrayed suspicion, his gaze darting from shadow to shadow as if calculating what he could take from his fellow Powers.

Soon after, Lustrinia appeared, the Power of Blood and Lust from the Asmodeus family. Her entrance was like a soft sigh, a seductive breeze that brushed through the void. She was a vision of beauty—so perfect that it hurt to look at her for too long.

Her form was constantly shifting, skin shimmering in shades of crimson and violet, her eyes an alluring, hypnotic swirl of colors. Her wings, dark and sleek, spread out behind her, each feather tipped with sharp, silver light.

A faint scent of jasmine and forbidden pleasures lingered in the air around her, intoxicating, pulling at the desires of any who drew near. Yet her smile held no warmth—only a cold, calculating hunger that promised ruin to those who dared trust her. Her fingers traced the air, drawing invisible patterns as she took her place, her eyes filled with thinly veiled contempt for the others.

A violent tremor shook the void, and Malachor, Power of Wrath and leader of the Satan family, appeared in a blaze of fiery rage. His body was immense, rippling with blackened muscles, veins like rivers of lava coursing through his dark skin.

His eyes blazed like twin suns, and his hair was a crown of fire, burning endlessly. His every step cracked the very fabric of the void beneath him, sending out ripples of violent energy.

His hands were massive, each one large enough to crush a planet, and his teeth were sharp, bared in a permanent snarl. Despite his monstrous form, he carried himself with a sense of brutal honor, though his gaze swept over the others with clear disdain. He had no use for subtlety, no patience for diplomacy—he had come for one reason, and one reason only: to destroy their common enemy. Yet even he couldn’t help but wonder if a betrayal would come from among their own ranks.

Next came Baaldrith, the Power of Gluttony from the Beelzebub family, a grotesque figure that slithered into the void like a dark, oozing mass. His body was bloated, swollen beyond any natural shape, his flesh rippling with every movement. His mouth was a gaping maw, constantly devouring the void around him, black tendrils of hunger reaching out from his form to consume whatever they could find.

His eyes were sunken, yet they gleamed with an insatiable hunger, a bottomless pit that could never be filled. His presence was oppressive, suffocating, as though the air itself was being swallowed by his existence. Baaldrith’s greed for power rivaled that of Grammelion’s for wealth, and his gaze fell upon the others with gluttonous ambition. He was here for the spoils of war, though he eyed each Power with the thought of devouring them if the opportunity arose.

Finally to arrive but not the last of them, was Zolgorith, the Power of Sloth and leader of the Belphegor family. His entrance was barely noticed, as he drifted into the void like a wisp of smoke, his form languid and ghostly. His body seemed to fade in and out of existence, as though the effort of maintaining his physical form was too much for him.

He reclined in the air as though lounging on an invisible couch, his eyes half-closed, his expression one of perpetual boredom. His limbs were long and thin, draped in flowing black robes that seemed to weigh nothing. Though his appearance suggested indolence, there was a hidden cunning in his gaze, a lethargic intelligence that calculated every movement. Zolgorith had no interest in the conflict itself—only in preserving his own comfort. Yet even he could not ignore the danger of the Leviathan family’s rise.

The Powers of the Demon families stood in the void, each in their own space, their forms flickering with power that could unmake entire worlds. Though they were gathered for a common purpose—to plot the downfall of the Leviathan royal family of Envy that had just emerged from their prison—there was no trust between them. Their eyes shifted from one to the other, each suspecting the other of plotting their demise, waiting for the moment when betrayal would strike.

"We are here to bring down the Leviathan," Grammelion’s voice dripped like liquid gold, cold and metallic. "But I wonder… which one of us will fall next?"

Malachor growled lowly, the sound rumbling like distant thunder. "Speak for yourself, wretch. I’ll see Leviathan’s head on a spike, but if any of you think of crossing me, you’ll share his fate."

Lustrinia’s laugh was soft and sultry, though it carried a deadly edge. "Please, darling. Let’s not pretend we’re here out of loyalty. We all want something. Let’s just make sure we get it before we start tearing each other apart."

Baaldrith licked his grotesque lips, his hunger obvious. "I want the spoils of war. Everything else is just… dessert."

Zolgorith said nothing, only giving a slow, lazy nod. His half-lidded eyes barely registered the others, though his mind worked behind them, plotting his own quiet survival.

As the Powers of the Demon families stood in the void, their auras flickering with raw, primal energy, a final arrival stirred the already tense atmosphere.

Late to the gathering, Astraelia, the Power of Destruction from the Abaddon family, made her entrance. The very fabric of the void seemed to tremble as she arrived, the dark expanse cracking and fracturing in her wake. Her presence was a force that embodied chaos itself—wherever she went, the void could barely hold together.

Astraelia was unlike the others. She did not embody a singular vice like Greed, Lust, or Wrath. She was pure, unbridled destruction—a living force of annihilation. Her form was both terrifying and majestic, a towering figure wrapped in black and violet flames that consumed everything they touched. Her skin shimmered like molten obsidian, cracked with glowing veins of deep red, as if she contained the heart of a dying star within her. Her eyes were pits of darkness, endless and cold, filled with the promise of oblivion. Around her hovered shards of broken reality, pieces of worlds she had torn apart in the past, floating like ghostly reminders of her power. Her long, flowing hair was like the void itself, strands of shadow that seemed to devour light.

When Astraelia stepped forward, her footsteps resonated with the sound of worlds collapsing—each step reverberating through the void like the death knell of an entire civilization. She carried no weapon, for she needed none. Her mere existence was a weapon. Where she passed, the void cracked, and for a moment, it felt as though even this timeless, spaceless realm could be undone by her presence.

The other Powers turned their attention toward her, each one feeling the weight of her late arrival. Suspicion and unease spread among them, for Astraelia’s arrival could only mean one thing—absolute devastation was now on the table. She was known not for her subtlety but for her finality. When she was involved, nothing survived.

Astraelia’s voice, when she spoke, was like the shattering of glass, soft but edged with violence. "Apologies for the delay, but I trust the discussion hasn’t gone too far without me."

Grammelion, his eyes narrowing with thinly veiled greed, was the first to speak. "Ah, Astraelia of Abaddon. We were beginning to wonder if you would grace us with your presence at all. Though, I must say, the void nearly split apart from your arrival. Such…destruction. Always so eager to tear things down."

Lustrinia smirked, her lips curling seductively as she watched Astraelia with keen interest. "Destruction indeed, but destruction with purpose, I hope. Surely, you’ve arrived with more than just ruin on your mind?"

Malachor’s lips twisted into a snarl, his fiery hair blazing brighter as he regarded her. "Destruction serves wrath well enough. We could use a hammer to crush the Leviathan family."

Astraelia’s gaze swept over them, cold and calculating. "Destruction does not serve anyone, Malachor. It is its own end. But I am here, as you all are, for Leviathan’s fall. If we let that old primordial strike, our end will be sure. I propose we take the fight to him." Her words sent a chill through the void, for they all knew that if Astraelia was involved, there would be no mercy, no compromise. "When the Leviathan family is brought to ruin, nothing will remain of them. Not their power, not their legacy—nothing."

Baaldrith’s grotesque form quivered with hunger, and he licked his lips with his oversized tongue. "I hope you’ll leave something for the rest of us, Astraelia. I do so love the taste of a broken dynasty."

Astraelia shot him a glance that was both cold and dismissive. "You’ll get what’s left, Baaldrith. If you’re quick enough."

Zolgorith, ever lazy and slow, gave a bored yawn. "Let’s just get on with it. The sooner we destroy Leviathan, the sooner I can return to my…repose."

And so they planned. And they swiftly came to agreement. No one person would hold back, or hide in their primary planes. Rather, they would take the fight to Leviathan. If not, their end was sure.

However, they were not aware that this line of thinking had been long foreseen by Lilith. You see, They never considered the possibility that the Mother of hell was the one that freed the Leviathan family.

The reason for this was because, while, news of Lilith’s awakening had spread through out Hell, the entities living in that harsh environment, at her request, choose to say nothing.

Meaning that, although they were going to war, For Lilith, it was a purposeful invitation. After all, she had other ideas in mind.

(Author’s note: I know that was a lot to stomach in, especially their names, but I needed to get them out there. Each one is pivotal to the story moving forward. So watch out and enjoy.)