Devil Slave (Satan system) Chapter 1410: The Leaders Shall Battle

Lucifer's brow furrowed briefly before his lips twisted into a fresh grin. He extended a hand towards Father Black, palm up in a tempting gesture.

"Abandon Earth, Father Black. Come with me. I'll grant you realms far beyond your greatest fantasies — power, glory, all that a mortal soul desires."

Father Black merely averted his gaze, showing no interest whatsoever.

"Lucifer, focus on your upcoming defeat instead."

He hesitated briefly, then went on steadily, "Returning to my suggestion. I'm not keen on wasting days here battling through every rank in a prolonged struggle. Why not resolve it fairly? A showdown between the faction leaders — Fallen Angels against Earth."

While Father Black proposed this, Alexander soared up next to him, presenting Michael’s sword complete with its scabbard.

Father Black grasped the blade. As soon as he infused it with his cosmic energy, it erupted in a dazzling, searing glow — holy fire intertwined with demonic darkness, flaring more intensely than anticipated.

Seraphina let out a sudden laugh, sharp and derisive.

"This is the stupidest idea I've ever heard from a human. Lord Lucifer holds the Morningstar rank, yet you haven't even touched the lowly Evening Star level."

Father Black lifted his gaze to meet Lucifer's directly.

"Is this the discipline you instill in your followers? Leaders of rival factions converse, and she rudely interrupts?"

Rage contorted Seraphina’s features. She advanced a step, poised to swoop down and attack Father Black.

Yet Lucifer lifted one authoritative finger.

She halted at once, her form quaking with fury, compelled to submit.

Father Black offered a faint smirk from the corner of his mouth.

"Good dog."

Seraphina clenched her fists until her knuckles bleached white.

Father Black pressed on, his tone unwavering.

"I know full well I'm below your cultivation rank, Lucifer. That's precisely why I propose this duel right now. I understand you. You and your fallen angels wouldn't honorably use clones like Michael and his angels. From the start, you intended to overwhelm us with your full Morningstar might once we faced you. You rigged the game for our defeat."

This truth caused gasps among Earth's onlookers. Murmurs raced through the crowds glued to their screens.

"He knew it from the beginning..."

"Lucifer meant to annihilate us entirely..."

Though many had already pieced it together.

Lucifer's reputation was infamous, after all — a slanderer, a cheat, the very cause of mankind's original downfall.

Even with what he saw as an advantage, he still resorted to trickery — just to secure absolute triumph.

While plenty suspected as much, having it stated outright struck differently.

Lucifer inclined his head gradually, smile unwavering.

"Well done. Well done. You're Regent for good reason."

He bent forward a touch. "Even so, knowing defeat awaits, why bother?"

Father Black just grinned.

"Because the aspirations of millions from one world rest on my shoulders."

Without thinking, he glanced back at Earth with true affection — the blue sun casting a soft glow over the planet he'd safeguarded for two centuries.

Father Black's existence had been far from serene. Born amid the apocalypse, he'd been lucky enough to be on the witch’s territory, which saved him.

From scraping by to emerging as humanity's savior.

Indeed... gazing upon Earth, none cherished it more deeply than he.

Father Black faced Lucifer once more.

"Well then, Lucifer... do you accept my challenge?"

Silence enveloped the arena for a moment that dragged on forever.

Lucifer finally spoke, his voice silky and entertained.

"I'd love to decline... but my curiosity about your secret weapon forces me to say yes."

His golden gaze dropped to Michael’s sword gripped in Father Black’s hand, sparkling with intrigue.

At that instant, Seraphina transmitted a private thought straight to Lucifer’s mind.

*The Regent's boldness stems from Michael’s holy tool, it appears.*

Lucifer responded in her thoughts, amusement thick in his mental voice.

*Too bad for him, unleashing that holy tool's true might requires partial angel lineage and Michael's blood. With the angels banished to Heaven, I'm the sole one present who can unlock its maximum power.*

A spark of avarice lit Lucifer’s eyes.

As twins, he and Michael shared the origin core that spawned them. An angel’s holy tool bonded eternally to their core. Gabriel had severed Michael’s link to the Sword of Truth... but should Lucifer reforge that bond himself, his strength would surge beyond measure.

Father Black swung Michael’s sword in one motion, making its glow flicker through the emptiness.

"Then we have a deal," he declared. "Both leaders of each faction shall fight."

Lucifer gave a slow nod.

Suddenly, the enormous contract monolith materialized once more before them, its runes glowing brightly as they updated to match the revised terms. The two sides consented to a head-to-head leader-against-leader duel. Further changes remained possible.

Father Black pricked his finger, allowing a drop of blood to drip onto the monolith. The runes absorbed it without delay.

Back on Earth, millions stared in shocked silence. Crowds murmured in wild frenzy:

"What is Father Black thinking?"

"He’s really going to fight Lucifer himself?"

"Is he insane?"

Once Father Black sealed his mark, Lucifer followed, his blood scorching the contract like flowing gold.

Yet, as the pact locked in, Lucifer abruptly spotted it.

Father Black bore a smile.

It wasn’t the smirk of a man who’d been beaten.

It wasn’t the smirk of a man certain of his doom.

It was the calm, assured smile of one who’d sprung a clever trap... and now lay in wait for the victim to stumble inside.