Devil Slave (Satan system)
Chapter 1311: Another Great King?

Chapter 1311: Another Great King?

Through the shattered Nexuses of the Fate Realm, Enel moved forward, carrying the wounded Allison in his arms. Beside him, Naamah walked with a steady pace, her expression was mostly unreadable as she bore the weight of her injured sister, Durgia.

The shadow string stretched ahead of them. This was a silent guide only Enel could read through the ever-shifting reality of this forsaken place.

Behind them, the *Beast of Finality* had faded into the distance, left behind along with the echoes of the Sisters of Fate—who, according to Naamah, had temporarily turned on each other, quarreling over something as trivial as *who was more famous*. All thanks to Enel’s efforts.

"That fight could last a few *tens of years*," she had remarked dryly.

Enel had barely reacted to the absurdity of it all. He had seen enough of the divine and the cursed to know that time was a fickle thing among beings like these.

His focus remained on Allison. Every now and then, he shifted his grip slightly, cradling her closer before lifting a wrist to his mouth. With a sharp bite, he broke the skin, letting the dark crimson liquid drip onto her lips.

His blood should have been poisonous to anyone else. But Allison was not just anyone.

First, they were part of the same pack. And second, she was his Mate.

By the decree of fate itself, her body was designed to accept his. Werewolves of the same pack could share blood to heal one another, a gift that strengthened their bond.

This was what Enel was doing now. And it was working—slowly. The deeper wounds had begun to close, the scent of blood growing fainter on her skin. But there was a problem.

The *Bowl of Forgiveness*.

Before entering this wretched place, they had both drunk from it. That sacred vessel of the church had stripped them of their magic power, weakening them significantly. Even Enel’s blood—normally filled with raw vitality—had lost much of its strength because he allowed it for too long before instructing the system to expel it from his body.

Still, he did not stop. He would not stop.

His jaw clenched as he let another drop fall onto her tongue, watching as her body instinctively accepted it, her breath growing steadier.

But even as he focused on Allison, his other instincts never dulled.

His eyes flicked toward Naamah.

He did not TRUST this woman. Not for a second.

Even as she carried her wounded sister, even as she led them through the perilous Nexuses, Enel remained cautious. There was always something OFF about her. A hidden intention lurking behind her every word.

And Enel had no intention of letting his guard down.

Finally, the shadow string led them to a Nexus. This one looked different. It was far larger than the others, stretching beyond what Enel had expected. Its colors stood out the most—unlike the monochrome hues of the previous Nexuses, this one shimmered with multiple shades, forming an almost rainbow-like spectrum.

Enel saw this and smiled. It seemed like they had finally reached their destination. Naamah, too, had a similar reaction, though hers was more subtle.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward, entering the Nexus. However, what greeted him was not the familiar, majestic castle of King Solomon. Instead, an overwhelming stench assaulted his nose—the thick, pungent scent of sweat, blood, and violence. It was so intense that it nearly infected his very being.

For a brief moment, the *Berserker Skill* within him nearly activated on instinct. But before he could lose control, a message from the system flashed across his mind:

<Avenge the ’Hate’ of the dead!>

Hearing these words, Enel immediately became alert. He looked up again, and suddenly, his senses became razor-sharp. From the countless bodies strewn across the battlefield, something invisible—like a gas—seemed to seep into him, enhancing his awareness.

Then, a bold, commanding voice reverberated through the world of the dead, echoing between fallen weapons and rivers of blood.

"Finally, the Prodigal son arrives."

Enel turned sharply toward the source of the voice, and what he saw shocked him.

At the peak of a LITERAL mountain of corpses, a man sat like a king upon a throne of the dead. Blood still flowed down the peak, staining the land below. His body was covered in scars—each one a testament to a life spent in endless battle. But rather than making him look gruesome, the scars only enhanced his presence, making him appear *captivating*.

His muscles were chiseled, his posture regal. His clothing was minimal, yet he wore golden armaments around his wrists, ankles, and neck, each one gleaming with ancient power.

Most striking of all was the crown above his head—a golden relic that did not rest upon his scalp but instead hovered, shifting slightly whenever he moved, as if it possessed a will of its own.

Enel’s instincts screamed danger. He immediately prepared for battle.

The man opened his eyes, and in that instant, Enel felt TRUE threat. It was as if a wild beast—far beyond anything he had faced before—was staring directly into his soul.

"Who are you?" Enel demanded, his grip tightening around Allison. "Where is King Solomon?"

The man rose from his throne of corpses, descending the blood-soaked peak with slow, measured steps. With each step, the air around him *shifted*, growing heavier. His frown deepened as he regarded Enel.

"Do you not know how to pay respects to your seniors in the Brotherhood?" he asked, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "Or did Kanada, your teacher, not teach you properly? Then again, that woman was always a bad idea to meet with the chosen of Lucifer."

Enel’s eyes widened slightly. ’This man is a member of the Brotherhood?’

But even with that realization, he did not recognize his face. This was someone unknown to him.

The man stopped at the base of the corpse-mountain and spoke once more, his voice filled with pride and power:

"I am he who *swept half the universe* beneath my feet."

"I am *the conqueror of empires, the storm upon battlefields.*"

"I am *the king whose name echoes through eternity!*"

His eyes burned like an unquenchable fire as he finally declared:

"I am Alexander! One known as THE GREAT"

Enel’s breath hitched, his eyes widening in shock. ’Alexander the Great?’

This was a man whose legends were so terrifying through out history, and yet so amazing. he was able to balance wars, strategy and amazing government.

Even though in truth, he was a brutal conquerer, he was still admired by his enemies and thus named ’The Great’ such an incredible figure was actually a part of the brotherhood.

However, Enel recovered quickly. Without hesitation, he nodded.

"Good." His expression shifted into something unreadable. "Then that means it is now safe for me to do this."

Without warning, Enel dropped Allison. In the same instant, a spear materialized in his free hand, and with lightning speed, he hurled it straight at Naamah’s face.

Despite her blindness, Naamah’s reflexes were *razor-sharp.* She *tilted* her head just enough for the spear to slice past, narrowly missing its mark.

The battle had begun.

Naamah, who had effortlessly dodged the attack, suddenly lifted her head with a mischievous smile. "When did you realize?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement.

Enel didn’t lower his guard. "From the very beginning," he said. "You forget—I got a part of the knowledge you’re so proud of."

At his words, Naamah casually placed her wounded, bandaged sister, Durgia, on the ground. Then, without hesitation, she spoke, "You may stop pretending, sister. He’s found us out."

As soon as she said this, the tightly wrapped bandages around Durgia unraveled on their own, falling away to reveal her decaying, rotting skin. Yet, despite the grotesque state of her body, she had a wide, knowing smile on her face. "To think we can’t even fool this nephew of ours. We’ve really slacked, sister Naamah."

Naamah chuckled in response, shaking her head. "Well... truth be told, I’m proud he figured it out. If not, I would have been disappointed if we managed to reach Solomon’s castle in peace."

Then, she turned back to Enel, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "So, tell me—how did you know?"

Enel didn’t hesitate. "It was too much of a coincidence," he said coldly. "Just when I was in trouble against the Beast of Finality, you conveniently appeared to save my life. From that moment, things didn’t add up." His grip on his spear tightened. "The only reason I didn’t attack sooner was because I knew I wasn’t strong enough to face you yet, and Allison was in danger. But more importantly, as long as you believed I was taking you to King Solomon’s castle, I knew you’d keep up the pretense."

Naamah let out an impressed hum before clapping her hands together in slow applause. "Not bad, not bad at all," she admitted. "You really are as sharp as your father." Her smirk deepened. "But you’re still wrong about some things. Yes, we fell out with the Fates, but things are far more complicated than you think."

Despite her words, Enel remained in his battle stance, his spear still aimed at her.

Naamah, however, only laughed softly, tilting her head at him. "Oh, have you already forgotten?" she teased. "We have an oath together, Enel. And if you don’t fulfill it... well..." Her smile widened. "You’ll die."

"Really... a blind woman and a..." enel looked at Durgia, " skin ugly one! Hmmm... don’t make me laugh!"