Devil Slave (Satan system)

Chapter 1194: The balls on him

As the Queen’s signal flashed across the sky in a brilliant starburst, Luca and his team charged forward, their bodies taut with determination, disappearing into the maze. They moved with swift coordination, each person knowing their role, flanking Luca with a mix of fervor and pride. Behind them, the winding corridors began shifting, walls shifting and sliding, already reconfiguring to confound their route.

But Enel? Enel knelt calmly, settling cross-legged on the ground at the entrance to the maze, an expression of composure on his face. The crowd fell into a stunned silence. Some whispered, confused, wondering if he had resigned before even beginning.

But Enel’s eyes, fixed forward, radiated a serene intensity. He closed them, his breathing becoming slow, steady. Those nearest could sense something—an energy radiating from him, something ancient, something raw. The crowd, even those who despised him, found themselves unable to look away, curious, almost entranced by the stillness he brought amidst the thunderous clamor of the arena.

And then she appeared.

The air crackled with anticipation as a masked figure, cloaked in shadows, descended from within the crowd and moved with silent purpose to Enel’s side.

The figure’s feminine silhouette, draped in dark cloth, and long hair cascading to her waist immediately captured the attention of the onlookers. Whispers rippled through the audience as everyone wondered who this mysterious person could be.

No one had wanted to aid Enel, and yet here she was—an unknown ally in a competition where he was allowed ten aides, though all had shunned him. Her sudden appearance raised questions and surprise from the Queen herself, and some even wondered if this was part of a premeditated plan.

As Enel turned to his new partner, a faint, knowing smile played on his lips. "I was starting to believe you wouldn’t show up," he said softly, almost as if they had rehearsed this moment in a hidden place.

Without a word, the woman reached into her cloak and pulled out a selection of rare, unusual ingredients. She placed them before Enel with a calm confidence, then finally spoke, her voice carrying an unwavering loyalty. "I wouldn’t abandon you for the whole world."

Enel nodded, a sense of quiet trust passing between them. "I know."

Meanwhile, Enel’s father Luca and his siblings had already made remarkable progress in the maze. Working as a unified team, they skillfully dispatched monsters blocking their path, their sharp minds swiftly unraveling the maze’s intricate patterns. Even the Queen watched with admiration, admitting to herself that this might be the fastest she’d ever seen anyone move through the maze in the history of these trials.

But as Luca’s team pressed forward, Enel turned his attention to the ingredients hovering in front of him. With a steady hand, he began tracing runes in the air. These weren’t just any runes; they were shadow runes, the likes of which had not been seen in many lifetimes. Elders throughout the stadium shot to their feet in shock, and gasps erupted as people recognized the profound power of what Enel was creating.

Even the Queen’s eyes widened, but she wasn’t alone in her amazement. Perseus, among the werewolf spectators, watched with bated breath. The sight of these shadow runes brought a flood of memories, and he couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that this was something he had witnessed long ago, in the presence of his king, Lenny.

Hidden demons in the crowd stirred uncomfortably as they watched Enel’s weaving with equal awe. Each rune that Enel traced floated and merged into the ingredients, coalescing with an energy that sent ripples of power through the arena. The final strokes were like threads weaving the fabric of reality itself, and with a final motion, Enel created something that had not been seen in generations—a LAW.

The crowd fell silent, their awe palpable. A law was not just a spell or a rune. It was a force that shaped reality itself, bending the fundamental fabric of their world at Enel’s will. For the first time in the competition, the crowd saw Enel not just as an outsider or a challenger but as a true wielder of ancient power. The atmosphere around him changed as he turned to face the maze, empowered by the law he had created.

Enel’s voice was but a whisper, yet his words ignited a storm. A surge of raw lightning energy erupted from him, carving a path through the maze with fierce intensity. Stone, walls, and lurking beasts within the maze were obliterated in a single, ruthless stroke, leaving nothing but a jagged, smoldering corridor that cut directly to the finish line.

Everyone, from the audience to Enel’s family members, looked on in shock. Luca and Enel’s siblings, still navigating through the maze, watched as a blinding flash tore its way forward. When Luca peered around the corner to see what had happened, he was stunned. There, standing calmly at the finish line, were Enel and his enigmatic new aide, having bypassed every obstacle with pure, unbridled power.

A massive uproar rippled through the crowd. High elves shouted in outrage, voices rising with accusations of dishonor.

They condemned Enel’s approach as an affront to centuries of tradition, calling him a cheater for destroying the maze instead of solving it. Boos and jeers echoed from every corner of the arena, a chorus of disapproval that even gave the Queen pause.

But amidst the storm of voices, Enel stood still, unfazed by the backlash. His calm confidence seemed to radiate as he held his ground. Finally, with a clear, unwavering voice, he responded, "There was no rule that stated I couldn’t bulldoze my way through the maze."

His words struck like lightning, silencing the crowd. Even the Queen, who had yet to find the words to address his unconventional method, remained speechless. Enel had not only shattered the maze but the expectations of tradition, challenging the very essence of what it meant to compete. In his annoying defiance, he stood as a force of change—one that, though untraditional, could not be denied.

For a fleeting moment, even Perseus, hidden in the shadows, was captivated by Enel’s brazen approach. He couldn’t hold back his laughter. This was a move worthy of a gladiator—a tactic his king, Lenny, would’ve surely admired. For a brief second, he saw a familiar, reckless spirit in the young teenager, making him wonder if Enel might have been a reflection of Lenny in his youth.

But then, Perseus sensed a prickling malice directed at him, halting his laughter abruptly. Magic energies brushed past him, probing, attempting to scan him from somewhere within the crowd. He narrowed his gaze, seeking out the source. Turning to Tomato, he instructed her, "Continue monitoring. The moment the treasure shows, go for it." He then separated from her, leading two other werewolves away from the scene, trusting her to carry on their mission.

Tomato, watching him go, felt a twinge of worry but brushed it aside. Perseus was more than capable of handling whatever followed him—at least, she believed so.

Perseus, meanwhile, slipped away from the arena, aware of the silent pursuit trailing him. He led them through the city streets to a particular shadowed alley, finally coming to a stop. Without turning, he called out, "Are you going to make me wait all day, or are we going to fight?"

Almost immediately, high-elven soldiers in shining armor emerged from the shadows around him, weapons drawn. His two werewolf companions tensed, ready to defend him, but Perseus waved them to stand down. He wasn’t interested in these soldiers. "Come on, stop hiding," he called out with a sneer. "I felt your magic—it’s darkline. You may be able to mask it, but you can’t fool a half-demon."

As his words echoed in the narrow alley, a figure materialized, emerging from the ground itself—a demon, disguised in the plain garb of a traveler. Only the subtle arch of horns marked his true origin.

Perseus’s lips curled into a smirk of recognition as he took in the demon’s face. Despite the years that had passed, he would know that face anywhere. "Basketface?" he asked with a hint of mockery, his tone laced with disdain.

The demon’s eyes widened, taken aback. He had not expected to be recognized, especially by a figure he did not recognise from his past.

Perseus chuckled, amused at the demon’s lack of recognition. Instead of offering an explanation, he simply pulled aside part of his clothing to reveal a distinct mark etched into his chest—the emblem of the Lenny royal family.

Basketface’s eyes widened briefly as he took in the mark. For a moment, there was an unguarded flash of shock in his expression, but he quickly masked it, his sneer returning. "So, you’re one of those disposable human trash from back then?"

Perseus’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them. "Careful with your words, Basketface," he replied calmly, though his tone held a simmering threat. "Things have changed a lot since ’back then.’ I suggest you don’t test what that means."

Basketface laughed mockingly. "A half-demon with royal insignia, but still clinging to human pride? Pathetic. You think that mark makes you something special?"

Perseus tilted his head, unfazed by the taunt. "This mark isn’t about pride. It’s about loyalty. Something you wouldn’t understand. I heard you watched as your...Governor Momoa died unable to do anything about it. Is it true?"