Devil Slave (Satan system)

Chapter 1190: The Fateful Day

The fateful day had finally arrived—a day that would decide the future of the high elves and bring back the glory of their cherished artificial sun.

Though it had obviously dimmed over the centuries, the hope of its reignition had sparked a feverish joy across the kingdom.

The entire city was alive with celebration, awash in colors and lights, each street transformed into a testament to elven artistry and tradition.

Garlands woven from silver and gold ivy trailed from high arches, shimmering like stars in the morning sun, while enchanted crystals floated above the streets, casting soft, warm light that seemed to breathe with a life of its own.

Delicate tapestries of embroidered silk lined every building, each one telling the ancient stories of the high elves’ unity and resilience. Everywhere, there was a hum of creation magic, as subtle enchantments brought forth small displays of blooming flowers or swirling lights, each spell cast with effortless grace by passersby and children alike. Magic, here, was as natural as breathing, an expression of life itself woven into every corner of the elven city.

"Oh, they did not lie when they said the High elves were the pillar of the old Underworld, before the arrival of the demon royal families." Perseus complemented through a corner, his face hidden under a hood.

But that was not all, he had to mask the magic that naturally oozed out of his body with holy power.

Beside him were a pack of werewolves, similarlyly dressed in the same attire, hidden from sight.

And of course, one more person that had insisted on coming no matter what...Tomato.

She had already crashed the magic on two streets on coming to this place and would have gotten them found out if not for perseus taking control of the situation, yet she behaved as if it was not at all her fault.

They had managed to trace this place by the help of Vandora, creating the device to track the riches gathering of creation magic in the underworld.

Even perseus had to admit that this place was hidden very well.

And it was even under the ruins of the old High Elf city. It was no wonder the demon royal families had not discovered it.

It was hidden right underneath their nose.

Entering this place had not been an easy task, especially because of the fortifications around the city.

But even perseus could see that the high elves had long become lax with security as they had been safe and hidden for too long.

Long time of peace never had good results on the mind.

Tomato had nullified a little part of their defence and let them through.

Their plan in entering this place had been to steal the treasure that is said to even create the Eternal spring.

The greatest source of creation magic of the high elves.

But what they had not known was that they would be visiting at such a festive period, which made them restrategize their plan.

After all, external security might have been lax, but within, it was tight.

This was evidence of how precious such a treasure was to these people.

And then there was more. Today was a day to also crown the new leader of the city and high elves.

Truly, their timing couldn’t have been even worse.

Then again, Perseus was very interested in this city.

It was something he could not explain, like a pull of some kind.

From the moment he entered this place, he could feel a call to Kin. Almost like the same one he felt when he first met Tomato.

But it was much stronger and marked him the willingness to take a knee.

It was a very strange feeling. What Perseus did not know was that Tomato also had the same feeling.

And all this while, her senses had been alert, searching the air for the source of it.

Meanwhile, In the heart of the kingdom, the arena towered like a jewel set amidst polished stone streets and crystalline towers.

Though packed with thousands of elves, each eagerly awaiting the day’s events, the place was spotless.

It was the pride of the high elves that, no matter the size of the crowd, no place would bear the grime of overuse. Gleaming marble seats and floors sparkled in the light, kept immaculate by enchanted wards and diligent custodians, who took as much pride in their work as any warrior in battle. The air was clear, fresh with the scent of honeysuckle and mint, carried on a breeze that circled within the arena, cooled by magic to ward off the warmth of so many bodies in one place.

Elves of all ages and backgrounds were gathered here, clad in flowing robes adorned with symbols of their family lineages and magic affinities. Some bore intricate circlets of woven silver or leaves, others had woven small charms into their hair—each one a token for good fortune and strength in the trials to come. And despite the looming decision, an undercurrent of joy coursed through the gathering. Young children darted between the crowds, their laughter ringing like chimes, while vendors moved gracefully, offering enchanted treats that sparked or glowed, lighting up small faces with wonder.

The main stage was draped in flowing banners, crafted from a rare fabric enchanted to reflect the vibrant hues of dawn and dusk. A single raised platform held a gleaming orb—the ancient heart of their artificial sun—awaiting the moment it would be reignited by the chosen ruler. Beside it, a ceremonial throne carved from pure alabaster gleamed in the sunlight, awaiting its new occupant, the one who would guide the kingdom into its next era. This was a day not only to crown a ruler but to reawaken hope, a time when the bond between magic and their people would be renewed.

As the last few took their seats, a hush of anticipation fell over the crowd, and all eyes turned toward the center, where the contenders would soon step forth. It was a day destined for the ages, a day of new beginnings. And though the sun may have faded, the spirit of the high elves shone brighter than ever, ready to ignite anew.

But it was not them alone. For in the shadows... other uninvited guests of darkness also seemed the opportunity to shine....