Devil Slave (Satan system)

Chapter 1171: Hunting the treasures.

The slums were alive with the sound of rustling feet and low growls. Hidden in the shadows, the thugs, a mix of centaurs, minotaurs, and other dangerous magical creatures, watched the lone traveler closely. Their eyes gleamed with malevolence as they stalked their prey, heavy magical weapons glowing faintly in their hands. These weapons were known to devour anything they touched, leaving nothing but emptiness in their wake.

Suddenly, they sprung into action. Hooves pounded the ground as the centaurs charged forward, their weapons slicing through the air, swallowing even the light around them. One centaur let out a triumphant snarl, swinging a massive blade that seemed to hum with hunger.

The traveler, however, was faster. Green electricity crackled around him as he leapt high into the air, his movements fluid, as if he were one with the wind. He kicked off the wall of a nearby building, the green lightning trailing behind him in a brilliant flash. He moved faster than the eye could track, jumping from wall to wall, evading every strike with ease.

Another thug, a hulking minotaur, roared as he hurled a large hammer that shimmered with a dark, void-like energy. The weapon struck the stone wall of the alley, and the area it touched disintegrated into nothing, swallowed whole by the weapon’s greed. "Nothing can withstand the might of these weapons!" one of the thugs boasted with a twisted grin. "They devour all!"

Yet the traveler’s face remained calm. He dashed forward, green lightning sparking in his wake, and struck out with his bare hands, sending shocks of electricity crackling through the air. His blows were swift, precise, and deadly. One centaur swung again, but the traveler ducked, letting the blade pass inches from his head. With a flick of his wrist, a bolt of electricity slammed into the centaur, sending him flying into a wall with a sickening thud.

The others hesitated for a moment, but their greed-fueled weapons emboldened them. They charged once more, their weapons glowing fiercely, eager to consume anything in their path. A minotaur swung his devouring hammer straight at the traveler’s chest, but the traveler sidestepped effortlessly, his body moving like a shadow. A moment later, another thug’s weapon struck him—a blow that should have consumed him.

For a brief moment, the weapon glowed greedily, vibrating as if it had caught something, but then… nothing happened. The traveler stood unharmed, the weapon unable to touch him. The thug’s face twisted in confusion and fear.

"W-what?" the thug stammered, stepping back. "Impossible…"

Panic rippled through the group. The thugs exchanged frantic glances. Their prized weapons had failed, and the traveler was still standing, his electric aura crackling more intensely now. They turned to flee, their bravado gone, but it was no use. The traveler moved faster than they could react, darting from one wall to the next with the speed of lightning itself. In a brutal display of power, he unleashed devastating blows, his green electricity lashing out with every strike.

The minotaur fell first, a blast of lightning searing his chest and sending him crashing to the ground, lifeless. The centaurs followed soon after, their weapons clattering uselessly to the ground as their bodies slumped, smoking and twitching.

Finally, only one thug remained—the apparent leader of the group. A half-demon with a long scar across his face and dark, malevolent eyes, he tried to scramble away, but the traveler was upon him in an instant. Grabbing him by the chest, the traveler hoisted him into the air effortlessly.

The half-demon gasped, eyes wide with terror. The traveler’s grip was like iron, and the electric sparks dancing over his body made the thug’s skin crawl.

"You use magical weapons blessed by the Greed demon royal family," the traveler said in a low, dangerous voice. His eyes burned with intensity as he held the thug’s gaze. "Tell me… who sent you?"

The half-demon gritted his teeth, his face contorting with stubborn defiance. "I’ll tell you nothing!"

Without hesitation, the traveler sent a sharp jolt of electricity coursing through the thug’s body. The half-demon screamed in agony as his muscles seized and his flesh burned. The sharp smell of charred skin filled the air, mingled with the stench of urine as the thug pissed himself.

The traveler raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "One more chance," he said, his voice calm yet chilling.

The half-demon, now quivering and barely conscious, gasped for breath. "A… a great Demon… of the Greed royal family," he stammered, his words barely intelligible through his pain. "He… he sent us… to stop you. You don’t know what you’re messing with. Stop… stop chasing the treasures… or you’ll be killed!"

The traveler smirked, his eyes cold. "Good to know." Without another word, he sent another shock through the thug’s body, leaving him a convulsing, burnt heap on the ground.

The traveler turned, his coat billowing in the breeze as he walked away, green electricity still sparking faintly around him.

The traveler stood amidst the carnage, his body still crackling with residual electricity, but his expression was calm. His eyes flicked up to the empty, shadowed corners of the alley, where darkness seemed to cling to the walls like old, forgotten secrets.

He spoke, his voice low, but commanding. "I want to know everything about this demon," he said, as if addressing the wind itself. "Where he sleeps, what he eats, the women he’s had… or if he’s into men."

The wind stirred, unnaturally responsive, as if it carried the presence of hidden figures within it. Whispers drifted through the air, faint but perceptible, like the murmuring of unseen watchers. It was as though the shadows themselves were shifting, bending to the traveler’s will.

For a moment, the alley seemed to breathe. The dark edges of the walls rippled, as if multiple figures had been there all along, lurking within the fabric of the night, watching in silence. Now, they moved, unseen but present, obeying his command. The wind responded to his orders with silent efficiency, swirling in intricate patterns before it began to drift away, carrying his message to whatever unseen forces lay beyond.

The traveler stood still, watching, knowing his words would be heeded. There was no doubt that the shadows would return with what he sought. With one last glance at the fallen thugs, he turned, vanishing into the night as if he were part of the shadows himself.

...

The traveler sat in a dimly lit room, a steaming cup of tea in his hands. The scent of strong herbs filled the air, blending with the faint tang of metal that seemed to linger wherever he went. He sipped slowly, savoring the bitter taste as the flickering candlelight cast shadows across his face. For a moment, there was peace, the world outside forgotten. But then, the wind blew.

It came as a faint whisper at first, brushing against his ear, like a secret being shared by an old friend. The traveler tilted his head slightly, listening. The whispers grew louder, filling the air around him, their meaning clear. He nodded once, setting the tea cup down on the table with a deliberate motion. The liquid rippled as though the wind itself had disturbed it.

He stood up, his expression hardening, and turned toward the door. The time had come.

---

He advanced through the Underworld, his footsteps silent but purposeful, his eyes fixed ahead. Soon, he reached a place that few dared to tread—a mysterious town, hidden deep in the heart of the underworld. This was a place where shadows danced, not with mischief, but with malice. The buildings were crooked, leaning toward each other as if conspiring, and the streets were narrow, lined with cracked stone that seemed to absorb the darkness rather than reflect it.

The smell hit him first—a thick, oppressive scent, like rotting wealth, the unmistakable mark of the Greed demon royal family. It clung to everything, saturating the air with a sense of ownership, as if even the atmosphere had been claimed. There was no mistaking it. This place belonged to them.

The people here were little more than husks, bent and broken under the weight of unseen chains. Their eyes were hollow, filled with a deep, unrelenting suffering, as if life itself had become an unbearable burden. The traveler saw them, moving like shadows through the dimly lit streets, their backs hunched in submission. Demons patrolled the area, their forms towering and twisted, their armor black and polished, reflecting the dim light like obsidian. The greed was palpable—everything here had been taken, consumed, and drained dry.

A huge castle like building stood before him, but he did not yet advance towards it.

And then the traveler removed his hoodie as he stared into the distance, "I know you are expecting me... I am Perseus Of the Lenny Royal Family, and you and I have a score to settle..."

[Author’s note: there is a bonus chapter in the last volume... please read it if you haven’t. Thanks.]