Devil Slave (Satan system)
Chapter 1312: Need My Help? Hell No, I’m just Enjoying the show

Chapter 1312: Need My Help? Hell No, I’m just Enjoying the show

Just then, Enel gave a sidelong glance to King Alexander. "This place... it’s an entrance to Solomon’s palace, isn’t it?"

Alexander’s expression darkened, veins standing out on his forehead. "That’s King Solomon to you, boy! Show some fucking respect," he snapped. His voice was laced with irritation, yet there was an undeniable patience in his tone—like a teacher reprimanding a particularly stubborn student. Still, he gave a slow nod. "But yes... it is. Every entrance to the Wise Man’s palace is guarded. Just one of his many precautions against invaders like these tramps." He motioned toward Naamah and Durgia with a dismissive wave before rolling his thick, muscular neck, as if already bored with their conflict. "After all, existing in the same space as the Fate Realm, it was only natural that our paths would eventually cross."

Enel’s eyes sharpened. I knew it! He thought.

Naamah, unfazed by Alexander’s insult, smiled. "Again...not bad, Nephew." Her lips moved, whispering words in an ancient tongue—Old Enochian, the language of angels. Enel narrowed his eyes. He didn’t understand how someone like her knew such a sacred language, but then again, she was one of the Sisters of Eve. It was hardly the strangest thing about her.

Yet, what she had just spoken to him was no mere chant.

"The coordinates to the primary plane, according to our deal," Enel stated flatly.

Naamah nodded. "Yes, but too bad, nephew. You won’t ever be able to reach it."

The moment those words left her lips, Durgia moved.

Her figure blurred, vanishing in an instant before reappearing in a full-speed charge straight at Enel. Her rotting fingers traced glowing symbols in the air, each one crackling with an ominous energy. These were laws, a combination of emacilate runes, ancient and absolute. The sheer force radiating from them made Enel’s instincts scream with warning.

"You called my skin ugly, Nephew... forgive this aunty for teaching you a lesson!"

Reacting on pure reflex, Enel brought his fingers before his face, preparing to block the incoming attack. But even as he did, his eyes flickered to King Alexander, silently asking for assistance.

King Alexander, however, only smirked. A sly, amused smile stretched across his lips, his eyes gleaming with sadistic enjoyment. It was as if he were telling Enel without words—This isn’t my fight. I’m just here to guard the gate.

Enel scowled. So much for borrowing the king’s strength. He clenched his jaw, bracing himself as Durgia’s attack collided with him like a speeding train.

Unlike Lamastu, who had relied on sheer physical strength, Durgia wielded magic. And Enel could already tell—this was going to be a different kind of battle entirely.

Enel’s mind worked at an incredible speed, calculating his best course of action. He was far from his peak power level. In his past life, when he had faced the Sisters of Eve, he had been a Greater Demon Cultivator—and even then, fighting them had been nothing short of a suicide attempt.

Now? Now, he was even weaker. He was surely done for.

But not entirely useless.

As Durgia weaved her runes, drawing symbols of destruction in the air, Enel’s fingers moved just as swiftly, crafting shadow runes. He wasn’t trying to counter her attack. He wasn’t trying to overpower her. No, his goal was much more precise—he aimed to unmake her magic.

It was the same principle as a computer virus attacking a system.

Shadow runes were a gift of nature, a power granted to only a select few. But more importantly, they were the natural bane of all other runes. His magic was weaker than hers, that was undeniable. But Enel didn’t need to overpower her. He only needed to find a gap—just one—and exploit it.

The moment their attacks met, a violent explosion of blinding light and twisting shadows erupted. The sheer force sent Enel hurtling through the air.

CRACK!

The bones in his arms shattered instantly.

His body slammed into a pile of corpses behind him, the impact forcing the air from his lungs.

Durgia turned away from him without hesitation, her focus now on Alexander. "Now that the brat is out of the way, it’s your turn."

Alexander, however, only raised a brow at her, amused by her audacity. Slowly, he lifted a finger—not in defense, but in indication.

He pointed at the mountain of corpses where Enel had fallen.

Durgia’s eyes narrowed. She turned just in time to see him stand up.

Blood dripped down his forehead. His arms, twisted at unnatural angles, hung limply behind his back. His fingers were mangled beyond recognition.

And yet... he still stood.

Durgia’s frown deepened. "Tch. Stubborn cockroach."

Her gaze shifted beyond the physical. And then, she saw it—the faint, ghostly tendrils of Hate rising from the dead around him, swirling toward his broken body.

Then—CRACK!

The bones in Enel’s hands snapped back into place. His fingers realigned with a sickening pop.

Durgia’s smirk returned. "So... it’s true." Her voice carried a hint of intrigue now. "You did manage to find one of the Seven FORBIDDEN Treasures... Love’s Arrow."

Her gaze sharpened. "To think you’d even sink so low as to feed off the hate of the dead." She shook her head, almost pitying him. "Not bad. But you’re still trash."

She lifted a hand, and her fingers danced again, weaving new symbols in the air.

Behind her, a massive ball of dark fire swelled into existence, radiating an ominous, suffocating heat.

"Nephew," she mused, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Have you ever been kissed by a star?"

With a smirk, she sent the burning mass hurtling straight for him.

The ball of dark fire grew larger in Enel’s vision, swallowing up the air around it like a collapsing singularity. But it was not just fire.

The system whispered its analysis in his mind.

<ALERT!>

<Warning! Incoming celestial-class spell detected! Gravitational pressure rising!>

<This is a miniature recreation of a Type-O hypergiant star! Infused with arcane matter, its density exceeds standard stellar formation, compressing its energy output to 1000 times that of a supernova explosion!>

<WARNING: Extreme Hawking radiation detected! Rapid particle annihilation imminent!>

Enel’s breath hitched. He could feel the sheer mass of it bending the space around him, warping light, pulling at the dust and corpses littered across the battlefield. The very atoms in the air were being shredded apart, feeding the swirling inferno like cosmic fuel. The core of the sphere burned with an impossible fusion of magic and astrophysical forces, a living paradox of destruction.

She’s trying to erase me from existence itself.

There was no doubt about it—the gap between their strength was unfathomable. This wasn’t just a fight. This was an execution.

Enel clenched his fists, but his body screamed at him in agony. I can’t win. I can’t survive this.

And then—

A sharp, cold presence curled around his spine.

The world around him seemed to pause.

From the corners of his vision, darkness slithered in, a slow creeping shadow that was not his own. Then he felt it—the soft, crawling touch of bony fingers wrapping around his waist from behind.

His breath hitched. These fingers... he knew them.

A whisper. Soft. Seductive. Unmistakable.

"My beloved..."

The voice curled around his ear, sending a chill through his bones. It was silk and hunger. A whisper that promised both ruin and eternity. Yet it was ever familiar

Lady Death.