Devil Slave (Satan system) Chapter 1391: Father Black Buys Time.

A week slipped by in an instant.

Within the freezing vacuum before the Eighth Earth, the contract took shape—a colossal monolith forged from obsidian stone and pulsing infernal calligraphy. It loomed larger than the highest peaks, drifting weightless between the stars and the planet below. Veins of fire in the form of golden runes slithered across the surface, surrounding a merciless countdown burning at its core.

Only sixty minutes remained.

Suddenly, silhouettes emerged from the darkened curve of the Earth.

Father Black spearheaded the group, his cloak whipping in solar winds that lacked all warmth. Perseu flew at his side with a grim expression, followed by Kanada, Crusher, and a glowing Athena. Finally, King Alexander the Great appeared, his armor shimmering with radiance and his eyes burning with the relentless fire of a conqueror who had tasted death once and refused to return to the grave.

Every individual among them was a powerhouse.

Their auras erupted like fledgling suns, as cosmic energy swirled around them like protective shrouds.

Odin hovered at their flanks, mounted upon the back of Sleipnir.

Having witnessed Michael upon his own steed during their last encounter, the All-Father wished to flaunt his own prestige—and the fact that his mount possessed eight legs. Beneath a wide-brimmed hat, his single eye sparkled while Gungnir rested comfortably in his hand.

Demeter soared beside him, golden wheat swaying in her wake despite the vacuum of space. Her face was set in a mask of stern fury, embodying a woman ready to defend her man.

Opposite this group, the armies of Heaven moved forward.

Row after row of angels sat atop winged steeds of pure radiance, their armor gleaming and their trumpets poised in silent readiness. Michael led the charge—towering and fearsome, his flaming sword already unsheathed. Though his face remained as cold as stone, his gaze bore the heavy burden of countless millennia of servitude.

Gabriel glided forward alone with his wings tucked, his trumpet hanging at his side. He shifted occasionally, carefully contemplating the weight of Lucifer’s words.

Of course, his true thoughts remained hidden from everyone.

He halted a mere arm’s length from Father Black, peering down at the mortal-turned-regent with freezing contempt.

“Have you reached a decision, insect?” Gabriel inquired. His voice resonated effortlessly through the void, echoing across every observant realm.

A smirk played on Father Black’s lips—sharper and far more confident than it had been just days prior. He didn't even bother to grant Gabriel the respect of a direct look.

Instead, his gaze turned pointedly toward the dying sun, where Lucifer remained reclined upon a golden throne. With wings partially spread, the fallen prince watched the proceedings with a look of idle fascination.

“We intend to sign the contract,” Father Black announced, his voice steady and unwavering.

A wave of shock rippled through the cosmos. Back on Earth, billions of citizens watching via broadcast arrays gasped in unison, as waves of terror and confusion washed over the cities. In the far reaches of the galaxy, ancient entities leaned in closer. Even the fallen angels encircling Lucifer stirred, many of them letting out arrogant chuckles.

However, he wasn't finished. He was well aware of their assumptions.

Father Black would never have attained his current rank if he weren't a master of political maneuvering.

His confidence was bolstered now, knowing that Lenny was observing and protecting him from the shadows.

Since the situation had devolved to this point and these ‘vampires’ sought to feast upon his world, he would seize every possible advantage from the encounter.

In this very moment, he was struggling to suppress a look of pure amusement. He had to maintain his composure.

The performance had to go on.

Father Black signaled for quiet with a raised hand.

Once he was certain he held everyone's undivided attention, he spoke again.

“However,” he continued, his eyes scanning the gathered hosts, “I have certain requirements.”

He went silent, allowing the void to hang in breathless anticipation.

‘Requirements?!’

Many observers found the notion absurd. Why would the side facing defeat attempt to set terms?

Furthermore, who would even respect his demands?

The general consensus was that he was merely delaying an inevitable conclusion.

But then he spoke again.

“The fate of Earth will be decided by this challenge. Consequently, the people of Earth shall choose who defends them.”

Perseus shot a sideways glance, his brow knitting together. Like everyone else, he wondered what the old veteran was plotting.

Father Black’s voice rang out even more clearly.

“We shall organize our own tournament, open to anyone willing to fight for Earth’s protection. This spans from the lowest lesser demons to the very peak of power. There shall be one champion for every rank of the realms—representing every level from the bottom rung to the height of the Morningstar.”

Chaos erupted. Murmurs broke out across Earth’s viewing screens, within the angelic ranks, and throughout Lucifer’s court.

‘A representative for the Morningstar rank?’ Earth possessed no such entity.

They were correct. Had Earth possessed a being of that caliber, they wouldn't have been cornered in the first place.

Lucifer was well aware of this, yet his interest was piqued.

The Morningstar himself arched an eyebrow, shifting forward on his throne as a spark of genuine interest lit up his golden eyes.

“But you lack a Morningstar,” he called out, his tone laced with warmth and amusement.

Father Black completely disregarded him.

This naturally infuriated Seraphina, though she restrained her temper.

There was little she could do to the Regent at this specific moment.

Finally, he turned back to Gabriel, meeting the archangel’s intense stare without flinching.

“That summarizes our initial proposal,” he stated coldly.

Then, raising his voice so it reached every corner of the void:

“Here is our second offer. Align yourselves with Earth. Stand with us... and fight against Lucifer.”

An absolute, soul-crushing silence descended upon the void.

Michael’s blade lowered slightly, the flames flickering as if struck by a sudden gale. His flawless composure shattered; his eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped in a mix of shock and pure outrage.

Gabriel was frozen in place. For the first time in the history of existence, the Herald’s stoic mask crumbled—raw, naked astonishment filled his features, and the white fire of his wings flared uncontrollably before he regained his grip.

In the distance, Lucifer’s relaxed posture turned rigid on his throne.

A single wing gave a twitch. His golden eyes narrowed before widening—not out of malice, but out of pure, electric shock. The smirk that had graced his face for eons vanished, replaced by a much rarer emotion: true amazement.

Yet, the ones most stunned were the allies who had arrived with Father Black.

He hadn't mentioned this plan to any of them, simply promising that he would manage the situation.

But was this really his way of managing it?