Devil Slave (Satan system) Chapter 1382: They Came to Judge us.

Seraphina watched, standing at Lucifer side.

Her breath had become slightly rough. Her eyes staring down hard as her fingers shook slightly beneath her.

Lucifer raised a brow. "To think after all these thousands of years, you would still be carrying such fear for my dim witted brother."

Lucifer noticed that she was not the only one. Then again, she couldn’t be.

Michael had truly scarred all of them. To call him terrifying was a compliment too beneath his station.

Seraphina bowed her head, "Forgive me master... I"

He shushed her with a finger. "Don’t worry, it’s understandable." One of his wings raised and the black halo around the heads of the fallen angels suddenly brightened, bringing them ease.

Meanwhile, Angel Michael’s warhorse slowed before the contract that now separated him from earth.

Its twelve hooves no longer thundered through the void but settled into stillness, suspended in nothingness just a short distance from Earth’s defenders.

The space between them felt impossibly thin—like a single breath before annihilation.

Michael frowned, but it was not in confusion.

It was in irritation.

With a smooth, practiced motion, he reached to his side and unsheathed his sword.

As he did, kanada’d eyes focused, and then widened in shock.

After all, many might not know, but she did. No, looking at the others at her side, she could tell that they also knew that weapon was.

It was legendary. Even in the sleep of new born around the world, that sword was lengendary.

But most of all, it was singularly an object of fright. Even lucifer on his throne right now, frowned at the weapon.

Michael’s hands moved, and the blade... it...

Yes.

The blade sang.

It was not a sound meant for mortal ears, yet everyone heard it anyway—a note so sharp it pierced the soul.

The sword glowed with blinding brilliance, its edge so perfect that reality itself seemed to recoil from it.

Michael did not shout.

He did not posture like those ready for a battle.

He simply waved the sword downward.

From the onlookers, it was as if he was simply testing the weight of the sword, or how flexible his wrist operated when he handled it.

A line of light tore forward.

It was Straight, and bsolute.

It was not definitely not wide.And definitely not dramatic.

But oh, It was scarily precise.

A single stroke meant to end the Eighth Earth.

Luckily, before anyone could react—

The contract manifested again. This covenant with words that awaited the fate of the earth and the known universe.

The massive monolith of runes flared violently, slamming itself into existence between the blade of judgment and the planet.

The collision produced a sound that did not belong to space—a deafening that shook souls rather than matter.

Even the onlookers deep in space. Those families and beings of renowned power felt a shiver run down their spines.

One might say,many of the gulped, thanking their stars for not being close enough to this battlefield.

The light dispersed almost as quickly as it came.

Meaning that if this was death, it would have probably been the most painless in history.

After all, it happened every before the will to think could occur.

This was Michael Morningstar’s power.

However,

The Earth remained.

No one was hurt.

Yet every heart trembled.

Then Perseus stiffened. His comm crackled.

Tomato’s voice came through, unusually tight.

"Perseus...I’m receiving report from deep space."

A pause.

"Jupiter... has been cut in two."

Silence followed.

Absolute, horrified silence.

Everyone understood immediately.

That attack——had not stopped at Earth. The force had traveled millions of kilometers outward, carving through the solar system like parchment.

Jupiter, a planet vast enough to swallow hundreds of Earth whole, had not resisted it.

It was gone.

Even more surprising, it was a planet that was made of gasses and unnatural storms.

And just like that, it had ceased to exist.

Split cleanly.

Erased.

Cold dread settled over every defender. The report might have been directed at Perseus, but who here did have unnatural hearing?

They all heard it.

And to think that they had stood before that blade.

Deep down, they all knew the truth.

There was no universe in which their combined power could have stopped it.

Aside from when he removed the sword, they had not even seen it move.

Only the contract had such power.

That single stroke had been enough to end everything they were protecting.

And it had been effortless.

This—

—

was the true power of a Morningstar.

Michael’s frown deepened.

From his side, Gabriel dismounted.

The Archangel floated forward, wings folding neatly behind him as he approached the defenders. Compared to them, he was colossal—a being of overwhelming presence, every inch of him radiating calm authority.

He glanced at the still-glowing contract, then toward Michael.

"It would seem," Gabriel said evenly,

"that not even your holy tool can break the contract, brother."

Michael let out a low groan.

"I can see that."

The edge in his voice betrayed him. Anger simmered beneath his composure, restrained only by law older than creation.

At that moment, Father Black spoke.

His voice carried through the void, steady despite the terror pressing against his chest.

"I thought Heaven was a realm of holy angels," he said,

"beings who lend helping hands—

not... murderers."

Gabriel turned toward him.

For the first time, surprise flickered across the Archangel’s face.

He chuckled softly.

"I am impressed," Gabriel said.

"You speak the tongue of angels."

What Gabriel did not know—

could not know—

was that this was the echo of a bond forged through Lenny tales.

Then Gabriel smiled.

And his eyes grew cold.

"Tell me," he continued, voice smooth with mockery, "do you consider yourself a murderer when you step on an ant beneath your foot?"

The words hung there.

There were Cruel.

Deliberate.

But this was a divine truth spoken without mercy.

And in that moment, everyone understood—

Heaven had not come to save them.

It had come to judge them.