Devil Slave (Satan system)

Meanwhile, far into the future…

In a realm where galaxies spun like glowing dancers and ancient empires floated in silence, a singular event—unparalleled in magnitude—was about to unfold.

The Eighth Earth—shrouded in legend, sealed for a hundred years—was about to awaken.

It had orbited alone in the furthest reaches of space, encased in a golden shell of divine energy. A hushed, unmoving orb locked in the stasis known only as Odin Sleep—a defense so absolute that neither time nor destruction could reach it.

Not even Lucifer himself, with all the fury of his Forbidden Treasure–Anguis, and charm of Heaven, had ever pierced its shimmering walls.

Among all the defenses in the cosmos, it stood supreme.

But today, the silence was ending.

---

Just beyond the Eighth Earth, suspended in the black ocean of space, floated a behemoth—a city forged in metal and magic, encased in a titanic cocoon of steel and silver. Its structure was vast, like a god's weapon left drifting.

Inside, it thrummed with life.

A command room towered at its heart, domed in glass and reinforced alloys. Screens flickered, control panels hummed, and the air buzzed with mechanical rhythms as operators worked, their fingers flying over keys and crystal runes alike.

And in the center stood Perseus.

Gone was the wild-eyed Gladiator general of a hundred years ago. In his place stood a man of power and restraint. His hair trimmed, his beard neatly cut, and the savage storm in his eyes tempered into something deeper—command, vision, weight.

His body bore scars, but his posture was regal.

He wore the crown of leadership like it had grown into him.

After Victor's unfortunate incident with the Morningstar, Perseus had taken over. He had ensured stability, peace and incredible growth.

Behind him, holograms pulsed, and war reports lined the walls.

A voice called out from behind one of the consoles.

"Commander Perseus. We are one minute from unravel."

Perseus did not flinch.

His eyes remained locked on the great display before him: the live projection of the Eighth Earth floating in its golden sarcophagus. It looked peaceful. Serene.

But Perseus knew better.

A century ago, before Lenny vanished into legend, the prophecy had been whispered.

When the Eighth Earth wakes, the cosmos bleeds.

He exhaled slowly.

He did not show it. But deep within, he was afraid.

One hundred years. It had been one hundred long, bloody, silent years.

A lot had happen. Purgatory opened up. Lucifer was released. Victor fell because of love. Lenny was reborn as Enel. The Ancient high elf city that was hidden for thousands of years fell, and was merged with the werewolf city. Some Royal Demon families had fallen, and now, he even got contact from Hell of all places. Who could have thought that Athena would be ruling that place as its Regent, at the request of Lenny's True mother, Lilith.

Too much had happened in so little time. And the force they had to face was even more dangerous.

Perseus could feel it. Lucifer was similarly waiting for this Earth to unravel itself.

After all, he had become king of the others, one by one destroying the demon forces bu trickery and other means. His power had grown beyond mortal comprehension.

The timer on the screen clicked down.

00:00:03.

00:00:02.

00:00:01.

"Commander…" a voice said.

Perseus raised his hand.

"I'll see it myself."

With a flick of his fingers, a tear opened in the air—a portal, lined with red lightning and spatial distortion.

He stepped into it without hesitation, disappearing from the command room and reappearing in the dark vacuum of space.

There, in the cold and silence of the stars, he stood alone, staring at the golden orb in the distance.

And then it began.

--- The latest chapters are uploaded first on M|V|LE3MPYR.

The unsealing.

It started with a hum. Low. Ancient.

As if the universe itself was drawing breath.

The golden shell began to shimmer, like sunlight seen through water. Then, with a soundless ripple, the first layer peeled away—not like stone cracking or metal folding, but like a dream being untangled.

Lines of light traced across its surface, forming runes that no living soul had seen in eons. Sigils twisted and rotated, weaving over each other, dissolving as quickly as they appeared.

Then, the shell began to unravel—a massive spiral of glowing ribbons, curling backward into the void like the petals of a divine flower peeling open.

One by one, rings of power—each a barrier forged by forgotten gods—peeled back in silent surrender.

The light was blinding. It was not golden anymore—but white-hot, like the soul of a star exposed to the cosmos.

And in the heart of it…

something stirred.

Perseus narrowed his eyes as tears fell slightly. This was his home. He had missed it.

"It's beginning," he muttered.

Then, his eyes narrowed.

Something was wrong.

He turned his head slightly, instincts prickling along his spine.

With sudden urgency, he tapped the side of his neck.

"Bridge. Shields up. Now."

The voice of a captain buzzed back through the comms, confused but calm.

"Commander? We're not detecting any hostiles or active threats from the surface. The planet is dormant—"

"I said put up the damn shields."

The steel in Perseus's voice cut through the bridge like a whip. That was all the captain needed.

Within the great floating city, sirens blared. Energy conduits lit up as arcane and technological circuits surged. Along the hull, thick, translucent hexagonal plates shimmered into place, forming an enormous barrier around the city.

A second later, reality screamed.

From the surface of the now-exposed Eighth Earth, a beam of crimson light exploded forth—so fast it bent space, so wide it looked like a sword cleaving the cosmos in half.

Perseus barely had time to twist his body, dodging it by mere inches as it carved toward the floating city like divine judgment.

It struck.

A thunderous impact—soundless in space, but deafening in transmission—shook the entire command structure. Shields flared red-hot, absorbing the full brunt, but even so, the force rattled every corridor.

Inside the city, the calm broke into chaos.

Pipes burst. Lights flickered. The floor trembled.

Engineers and officers shouted orders as sparks showered from the ceiling.

"Power fluctuation on the lower deck!"

"Hydraulic systems failing on section nine!"

"We've got a breach in the outer ring—but the seal's holding!"

The bridge captain's voice called Perseus again.

"Commander! The city's taken heavy damage! Shields are fried. Outer systems need manual rerouting—we almost lost stabilization! We're still assessing casualties!"

But Perseus only stood there, floating in the dark void outside the ship, laughing.

Not in amusement.

In acknowledgment.

"Of course it would be like this…" he muttered under his breath, a bitter smirk curling at the edge of his lips.

He turned his eyes back to the planet, where the beam had left a pulsing red crater on its surface—an attack launched not in warning, but in declaration.

He narrowed his gaze.

"That was Father Black. No doubt about it. Shoot first and ask questions later."

The mere mention of that name sent a chill down the spines of those on the bridge listening in.

Before they could respond—

A loud, commanding voice echoed from the planet below.

"Unidentified vessel."

"You are invading Demeter's orbital space. Leave now—or face the wrath of the Lenny Royal Family."

It rang through every communication channel, every signal receiver—bold, imperial, and seething with arrogance.

Perseus's smirk deepened.

He knew that voice.

He tilted his head slightly and chuckled once more.

"So they're still alive, huh…"

"How nostalgic."