Devil Slave (Satan system) Chapter 1374: Lucifer Is Here.
Previously on Devil Slave (Satan system)...
The moment the Primordial Demons died... the world knew.
No one could say for certain how the whispers began.
Perhaps it was the scattered remnants of their once-glorious demon legions—families now broken, demons weeping, officiers gnashing teeth, their infernal crests dimming to ash. Or maybe it was the opportunists, the wandering souls who always knew how to turn chaos into currency. Expecially those pirates of the void.
But by the next celestial dawn, the news had spread like wildfire across the cosmos.
---
Across the stars
On the ice-covered world of Naar’Goth, crystal-bodied giants stood around their aurora-lit campfires, speaking in slow, grinding tones.
"The Demons are gone," one rumbled. "After eons... finally gone."
Another raised a frost-chiseled chalice, and their guttural song of victory echoed through the night.
---
In the emerald jungles of Vyrra, the insectoid Vyrn Queens trembled in their hives, antennae brushing across glowing spores that pulsed with gossip.
"The tyrants of flame are dead," hissed one in her hive-tongue. "Now we rise. The Vyrn Empire shall spread again. The heavens will remember our sting."
The swarm screeched in unison, their cries shaking the great fungal trees.
---
In the Solar Palisades of Uthra, an empire of winged seraphs gathered in their golden parliament. The oldest of them, his feathers dimmed by time, looked up at the twin suns and spoke gravely,
"A world without the Demons is a world without balance. The Primordials may have been our enemies... but their death breaks the cosmic order."
Across the chamber, younger seraphs cheered instead.
"Then let the heavens belong to us again!"
Their wings flared. Trumpets sounded. War councils began to form.
---
And elsewhere—on countless other worlds—celebrations broke out like wildfire.
Drums, flutes, laughter.
For the first time in hundreds of thousands of years, the night sky felt lighter.
The tyrannical age of Demons was over.
---
But not all shared in the joy.
In the Obsidian Libraries of Malthora, scholars whispered in dread.
"A power vacuum of this magnitude will tear the realms apart," one muttered, tracing runes in the air.
"The last time something like this happened, during the fall of the Morningstar, galaxies burned."
"And even then, they still ruled. We are.... Fucked."
---
Even darker were the questions that followed.
"Who killed them?"
"Who could?"
The Primordial Demons—immortal beings that once ruled as pawns of the firat fallen—had fallen. Entire armies had perished merely at the echo of their voices, yet someone, something, had slain them utterly.
Soon, theories began to weave through the starlight.
The name spread quietly at first, then like a storm.
Lucifer.
The fallen star. The Morning Light.
Returned from his eternal prison.
If he was the one who did it... then didn’t that mean he now stood above even the Primordials themselves again?
Didn’t that mean—Lucifer was the new superpower?
While he had been before, he used the Primordials for stability. When he was gone, the fights ensured. Now, he was back in power, but no Primordials for order.
---
And as if destiny itself sought to confirm it, a new rumor erupted across the starways.
It was simple.
It was terrifying.
"Lucifer wants the Eighth Earth."
No one knew what he wanted with it, or why he was coming.
But every god, every mortal, every demon that still drew breath—
felt the same thing as the words reached their ears.
A chill.
A weight.
A truth they could not ignore.
Lucifer was coming.
And this time, he would not be stopped.
But of course, those of the Eighth Earth knew why he was coming.
Of all the nine earths, lucifer brought the destined apocalypse to Eight of them. But was unable to move on from the Eight.
It carried a kind of significance that was more fate than anything else.
Yes. Unless he truly defeated the Eighth Earth, he would not be able to reach the Nether realm.
Her realm. Or at least, the only way to her.
Darkness. The Sister of the One Above All.
The Eighth Earth with its numerous powers that had come together under Father Black’s rule and the Lenny family umbrella was now a super power.
A very super power:
The devils of hell that once served as the cup bearers of the Morningstar.
The Prophet of Pepsodent and the powers that had submitted to the religion. Of course the Forbidden Treasure was also included.
The Wealth and power of half a powerful galaxy—Kalu.
The resources that came from the false Heaven.
The Gods of men, birthed as a result of their worship and praise.
The power and technological advancement of the Lenny Royal Family.
The Remaining power of the high elves and their technology.
This much power was capable of going against even the royal demon families.
At least half of them could be challenged with such a force and the Eighth Earth would still win.
While many in the galaxy envied their power, they also pitied them.
Lucifer had his eyes on it.
...
The world trembled beneath the weight of preparation.
The news of Lucifer’s approach had galvanized every remaining god, every fragment of human power, every creature that still dared to breathe beneath the storm-laden heavens.
Across the continents, the Earth’s crust split open, and from its wounds rose titanic construction zones—great bastions of blackened steel and glowing sigils carved by ancient hands.
The Teleportation Gates
They were the first priority.
Even gods feared annihilation.
At the orders of Father Black, colossal teleportation pylons were erected at key leyline intersections—mountaintops, ocean trenches, the ruins of lost cities. Their foundations were made from Erebusite, a rare mineral drawn from the Underworld, while their cores pulsed with magic stolen from the Moon’s blood veins.
Each one could transport millions in a single activation—if they worked.
They weren’t meant for war.
They were built for escape.
Because if Lucifer broke through... the Eighth Earth would not survive.
High in the sulfur skies of the Eastern continent, Insect B stood atop a writhing hive mound. Her mandibles clicked commands in a frequency only her brood could hear.
Below her, titanic beetles carried chunks of enchanted metal in their jaws, moth-creatures stitched sigil banners across scaffolds, and ant legions wove tunnels deep into the ground—emergency shelters and mana conduits.
"Move faster!" she hissed, her chitinous wings vibrating with fury. "survival depends on us now."
And so, for the first time in history, gods, humans, and monsters worked side by side.
---
In the volcanic range of Mount Arkan, Perseus oversaw the Divine Forge—a crucible large enough to hold a city. He wore a molten apron and swung his hammer with the force of a comet, sparks flying like constellations reborn.
Under his command, blacksmiths from Olympus, dwarves from Pep, and high elves under luca worked together to forge weapons capable of piercing even angelic flesh.
Blades that screamed with lightning.
Cannons that drank starlight.
Armor that wept silver blood when struck.
Each weapon was a miracle and a curse—unstable, unpredictable, but necessary.
---
Far away, on a plain of shattered stones, Crusher sparred against King Alexander again and again.
Crusher swung his hammer with the roar of thunder, each blow shaking the ground. But Alexander—red-haired, calm, and impossibly fast—met every strike effortlessly, his massive sword "Nemesis" cutting through the air like divine judgment.
When Crusher lunged again, Alexander sidestepped, resting the sword’s edge on his shoulder.
"Still too heavy-handed," Alexander said, almost lazily.
"Maybe next time," Crusher grunted, pulling himself from the crater his body had made.
Again and again they fought.
Again and again, Alexander won.
But even so, Crusher smiled after every defeat.
He was getting faster. Stronger. Closer.
----
Then came the wanderer.
At twilight, the air above the central fortress rippled, and from it stepped a figure cloaked in blood-red mist.
A mark glowed faintly upon his forehead—ancient, cursed, eternal.
"My name is Cain," he said, voice rough like sand scraping bone. "The first murderer."
The guards raised their weapons. Father Black stopped them with a gesture.
Cain smirked.
"I am an old friend of Lenny’s," he said softly. "And I heard a great war was coming. The greatest there ever was."
His grin widened, teeth sharp and unnatural.
"I’d be a fool to miss it."
---
Weeks passed. The world changed.
The skies filled with defense satellites carved from divine runes. Oceans turned into shimmering barriers of mana. Floating fortresses rose above the clouds, and the ground itself was lined with traps that could shred a god’s flesh.
From other dimensions, resources poured in:
—Crystals from the soul Realm.
—Runestones from the underworld.
—Soul energy from forgotten universes.
All of them drawn into one single planet—Eighth Earth, the last line of defense.
The final bastion.
---
And then...
As the sun bled across the horizon, the air turned cold.
The stars dimmed.
And a whisper ran through every mind—angel, god, and mortal alike.
He was coming.
Lucifer.
The heavens trembled.
The final day had come.
Lucifer was here.