Devil Slave (Satan system)-Chapter 1266: Meeting Kamala 2

The moment the elevator shaft doors creaked open, Enel and his group were met with a harrowing sight. Before them stretched an endless horde of people—humanoid in form but devoid of life as they had once known it. Tendrils, black and pulsing, snaked from their bodies, writhing faintly as if alive. Their eyes were empty, staring at nothing, and yet their forms stood erect, locked in place like grotesque statues.

There were hundreds of thousands of them, packed densely, their unmoving forms creating an eerie stillness that pressed down on the group like a physical weight. The air in the cavern felt suffocating, charged with an unholy energy that seemed to emanate from the horde itself.

Enel’s sharp gaze scanned the scene. He quickly understood the situation. These creatures were dormant—temporarily disconnected from whatever force animated them. The central consciousness was preoccupied, likely locked in battle with the Werewolf city above. It had poured all of its focus and resources into that fight, leaving its other minions in this inert state.

Behind him, the villagers gathered, their faces pale with fear yet tinged with simmering rage. One of the men, his shoulders broad but trembling, leaned close to Talkling and muttered something in their tongue. Talkling translated softly, "He says… his son is among them."

Enel glanced at the man. The pain was evident in his eyes, but so too was the iron determination to see this through. Enel nodded, appreciating their resolve. It was a good decision to have left the women and children behind. The sight of loved ones trapped in this twisted state would have broken many of them, but the men here bore their grief silently.

Even so, Enel wasn’t naïve. He had seen enough chaos in his time to know that where there was tension, there was always someone bound to crack under it. A dropped weapon, a nervous stumble—it wouldn’t take much for all hell to break loose.

"Allison," he said, his voice low but commanding. He turned to his tall, dark-haired warrior mate who stood behind him. She exuded calm confidence, her hands flexing slightly as though eager for the coming battle. "You’re in charge. If anything happens, you know what to do."

Allison nodded, her obsidian claws glinting faintly in the dim light of Enel’s floating runes. She was the strongest among them, at the Deep demon realm, and her mastery over cosmic energy was capable of turning the tide against this horde if necessary.

Without another word, Enel stepped forward. His movements were fluid, precise, and eerily quiet, each step calculated as he maneuvered through the labyrinth of unmoving forms. His body seemed to glide over the ground, and not a single tendril twitched at his presence. The villagers watched in awe as he disappeared into the mass, his figure swallowed by the darkness.

Then it was their turn. Slowly, nervously, they began to follow, winding their way through the narrow gaps between the lifeless creatures. Every step was deliberate, every sound muted as best as possible. They moved as one, their breaths shallow, their eyes darting toward the slightest flicker of motion.

And then it happened.

The unmistakable *clang* of metal hitting the stone floor reverberated through the cavern like a gunshot. One of the men, his hands slick with sweat, had dropped his weapon—a crude farming tool. It spun noisily before coming to a stop, the sound echoing far too loudly.

For a brief moment, silence returned.

Then the horde awoke.

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Enel far away shook his head. This much was predicted. ’All the horror movies always happen like this.’ he thought to himself.

The nearest zombies twisted unnaturally, their bodies jerking toward the source of the noise. Their heads snapped toward the group, eyes now glowing faintly red as guttural, otherworldly growls erupted from their throats. The tendrils attached to them thrashed wildly, and in an instant, the entire horde came alive.

The air filled with a deafening cacophony of screeches and slithering as the creatures surged toward the villagers. Panic rippled through the group, but Allison was quick to act.

"Hold your ground!" she bellowed, her voice slicing through the chaos. Her claws flashed as she leapt into the fray, slashing through the first wave of attackers with precision and fury. Black ichor sprayed into the air as the creatures fell, their bodies twitching violently before going still.

The villagers, emboldened by her strength, raised their rune-imbued weapons and fought back. The holy power carved into their crude tools made them lethal against the tendril-infested creatures, cutting through flesh and severing tendrils with blinding flashes of light.

Talkling, though trembling, stood his ground beside the others, wielding a long, rune-etched staff with surprising determination. Around him, the villagers hacked and slashed, their cries of anger and pain mingling with the unearthly howls of their enemies.

Through it all, Enel remained unseen, his path toward the center unbroken as chaos erupted behind him.

Enel advanced deeper into the core’s chamber, the air growing progressively hotter with each step. The heat was intense enough to melt rock, yet it barely fazed him.

His unique constitution by the accident of his birth made him impervious to conditions that would obliterate a normal person. He moved through it all with an almost casual air, his eyes taking in the surreal and grotesque scene before him.

The molten core of the plane dominated the space, a gigantic sphere of molten energy that radiated an eerie golden-red glow. Streams of molten rock flowed like rivers, their surfaces bubbling with chaotic intensity. It was as if he were staring at the very heart of creation—and corruption.

But it wasn’t the core itself that held his attention. At its center, on a surface glowing hotter than the sun, was a grotesque, pulsing tumor. The fleshy mass beat rhythmically like a diseased heart, sending tendrils of darkness snaking outwards. These tendrils were the lifeblood of the infestation, spreading corruption throughout the plane and into the creatures above.

Enel’s eyes narrowed. It was alive, unmistakably sentient in some foul, parasitic way.

Surrounding the tumor, as if guarding it, were several chambers of flesh, grotesque pods made from the same material as the tendrils. Within these pods, Enel could make out the vague outlines of people, their forms suspended in sickly green fluid. Their eyes were closed, their bodies eerily still.

"Battery chambers," Enel murmured, disgust creeping into his voice. The tumor wasn’t just corrupting—it was harvesting. These people were its fuel.

But then something else caught his eye. At the far edge of the chamber, standing unnaturally still, were several demons. Their appearance was unmistakable—members of the Greed family, clad in their typical dark, jagged armor. However, their behavior was... wrong.

The demons were not moving, not snarling or scheming as was typical for their kind. Instead, their bodies twitched in jerky, unnatural motions. Tendrils were embedded into their backs, pulsing faintly as if feeding them commands.

"Interesting," Enel muttered, tilting his head. "So the Greed family didn’t completely abandon this plane. But it seems even demons aren’t immune to being puppets."

He crouched slightly, his sharp eyes scanning every detail. The demons’ weapons hung loosely in their hands, and their glowing eyes betrayed no spark of sentience. They were little more than corrupted husks, much like the zombies above.

Enel’s gaze returned to the tumor, studying its every twitch and pulse. He understood that this grotesque heart was the central consciousness of the infection—the true mastermind pulling all the strings. Its connection to the chambers and the corrupted demons painted a clear picture: this parasite wasn’t just feeding; it was assimilating.

"I should’ve brought marshmallows," Enel quipped, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm. But his tone quickly shifted, his lips curling into a dark smile. "Time to put an end to this..."