Devil Slave (Satan system) Chapter 1394 1394: After 100 Years

A century had passed...

Father Black drifted at the perimeter of the blue sun, his robes fluttering in the solar winds while his beard, now a cascading river of white, draped down his chest.

Demeter held onto his left arm, her hair adorned with a crown of woven green vines. She cradled their youngest daughter, a little sprout who, despite being only nine, already bore the calluses of a life spent pulling radishes.

This child was their fourth.

Father Black had been adamant that she learn through hardship.

He was a man who had witnessed the collapse of nations and empires, and the subsequent ascent of the singular ruling Royal Family.

Even though his daughter was held in high regard by the most influential figures across the globe and beyond, he refused to let her become a burden to herself or the Lenny family. Consequently, he was the type of father who ensured his children valued the earth beneath them, even when the heavens were within their reach.

To his right stood King Alexander, clad in Macedonian bronze that had been polished to a mirror-like sheen, his gaze sharper than the point of any arrow.

It would be a falsehood to suggest he hadn't relished his years on Earth.

Although he had originally arrived seeking conflict, he had already risen to the status of a high-ranking official who had been invited to join the Lenny royal family.

Then there was Clawed, the demonic offspring of the first great demon that Lenny had slain.

He was present as well. Having fulfilled the clandestine mission Father Black had entrusted to him, he had returned to the fold of the family.

He stood there now, three bat-like wings extending from his back.

His appearance had shifted; his skin now appeared more human than demonic, though a multitude of tattoos now decorated his physique.

Despite these changes, he still radiated an overwhelming sense of power.

Athena, the Regent of Hell, was also in attendance. Naturally, she had her own kin, though Hector and their son were required to remain a significant distance behind her.

Vigil had advised against their presence, yet Athena was determined to make a statement.

As Father Black often said, "The children are our tomorrow. Let them carve the path."

She glided forward, her newly forged armor resembling a living phoenix—feathers of molten gold shifted like flickering flames, while a blazing tail trailed behind her like a comet, searing the vacuum of space.

Kanada drifted on the opposite side, her skin shimmering like consecrated marble. As was her nature, she lacked facial features, but now her face had transformed into a literal void that few dared to meet—it was holy, certainly, but terrifying enough to make anyone lose their composure if she looked at them the wrong way.

Following them were a hundred humans. These were youths who had once spent their days digging potatoes or battling monsters, and now they were taking flight.

Under normal circumstances, flight and survival in the void of space were impossible for anyone below the Deep Demon rank.

However, every single one of these hundred individuals was extraordinary in their own way.

Furthermore, those who lacked sufficient strength were equipped with specialized artifacts to sustain them in space.

They were, after all, vital representatives for the coming battle.

The auras of the majority seemed to stack upon one another—energy from the blue sun was stored in crystal rings, demonic contracts were branded onto wrists, and divine sparks originated from mysterious sources.

They moved as a collective swarm, vibrating with a power so dense it could almost be tasted.

With the current might of the Eighth Earth, it possessed the capability to crush any faction in the universe.

Its reach now spanned to the City of Pep, Hell, the Kalu Empire, the gods, and various other powerhouses that had entered into alliances with them.

This explosive growth was a direct result of the pressure exerted by even more formidable foes. Nonetheless, Earth could finally claim it had carved its own destiny into the future.

Odin was also present, though he appeared more subdued than usual.

Much like the Lenny family, he had brought his own protégés among the hundred—fearsome youths who would not hesitate to shed their own blood or that of a comrade if the situation demanded it.

Then again, perfection was not found everywhere on Earth.

The remaining members of the Lenny family were either away on missions or in Seclusion, having pledged to return before the major events commenced.

Before long, they reached their destination.

Father Black raised a defiant fist toward the heavens.

"Michael! The century has passed! We have arrived!"

The blackness of the void suddenly tore open. Heaven's Gate manifested: a pearl-white structure miles high, its edges vibrating with the sound of crystalline hymns. A flood of light spilled out, warm yet nauseatingly pure.

The youths behind him began to murmur, "Is that it?"

"Wow. It’s so incredible. It’s so beautiful."

"It looks… small."

"Hmm, it smells like a church that’s been set on fire."

Each of them offered their own praise or voiced their prejudices regarding the pearl-white gates.

After the events of a century ago, Heaven no longer held its once-unblemished reputation.

Even the Kingdom of Pepsodent now advocated for the acceptance of people into the False Heaven established by Solomon, which maintained its fragile peace through the use of the everlasting Abyss.

The gates of Heaven swung wide.

Suddenly.

The sound of Gabriel’s trumpet echoed—a low, trembling note.

Then, the heavenly host emerged. Angels in endless rows, with wings resembling cathedral glass and armor that shone like polished mercy.

The majority of them did not look human at all.

In fact, many were nothing more than clusters of eyes equipped with wings.

Others were bizarre, angular entities with... yes, wings.

They did not fly so much as glide through the silence, their gazes fixed upon the motley group of humans who, a century ago, had been forced to beg for time.

The followers behind Father Black once again shared their observations.

Most had viewed the old recordings of Heaven’s arrival a hundred years prior. However, those images paled in comparison to witnessing the spectacle in person.

Some gasped, while others swallowed hard. Some were itching for the chance to bury their fists in an angel’s face.

One individual even began to clap in a strange manner.

But one fact was certain: all of them were here because of the angels.

Naturally, Lucifer—who had claimed the old sun as his second home—observed the proceedings with great interest.

To claim the last hundred years had been dull would be a lie.

He certainly hadn't been idle during that era.

Michael Morningstar stood at the head of the angels, his blade already radiating light, his expression unreadable.

Father Black smirked, his white beard twitching. He wanted to see if Heaven still viewed them as mere ants.