Devil Slave (Satan system)-Chapter 1300: The True Prophet

Enel sat quietly in the private room, his thoughts meandering as he glanced at Allison.

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She was sitting across from him, her posture tense but composed. A knock at the door broke the silence, and both their gazes turned to the sound. Enel rose and opened the door to find a priest standing there, his robes flowing like liquid gold under the faint light.

"The Prophet is ready," the priest said, his voice calm and measured. "Please, follow me."

Allison exchanged a quick look with Enel, her eyebrows knitting in a question he didn’t answer. She stood and walked past him, her movements purposeful but cautious. Enel followed behind, his steps slower, deliberate, his mind sharp with observation.

The priest led them through a series of winding tunnels, the stone walls cool and faintly illuminated by glyphs and runes that pulsed faintly with magic. Enel’s eyes narrowed as they moved deeper. The runes weren’t just decorative—they carried meaning. Ancient symbols of protection, sacrifice, and veiled warnings. He ran his fingers lightly over one as they passed, its texture giving off a subtle hum that tingled his fingertips.

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Realization hit him like a sudden wave, but he said nothing. His eyes flicked toward Allison, who had been silently watching him. She gave him a questioning look but didn’t speak. Whatever was on his mind, it wasn’t yet ready to be shared.

The staircase that followed was steep and unending, spiraling upward into what felt like an impossible height. The air grew warmer, the light brighter, as they ascended. The priest didn’t falter once, his pace steady and unwavering, his silence unnerving.

Finally, they reached a thick, crimson curtain that hung from ceiling to floor, rippling gently as if touched by an unseen breeze. The priest pushed it aside, revealing a massive hall that stretched farther than Enel could have imagined.

The room was immense, easily the size of a football field from Enel’s former life, though infinitely more grand. Every inch was adorned with intricate designs, shining metals, and gemstones that caught even the faintest light and scattered it into a symphony of colors. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals refracting light in delicate rainbows across the walls.

For a moment, Enel was struck by an odd familiarity. This wasn’t his first time in a place like this. But how? From where did this memory arise? The sensation lingered like a whisper at the edge of his mind, frustratingly just out of reach.

Ahead, the hall was lined with rows upon rows of priests, their heads bowed in reverence. They formed a pathway that led directly to an altar at the far end of the room. Above the altar hung a veil made entirely of mist, ethereal and shifting, like a living entity. Though it fell like a curtain, it obscured the figure seated on the throne behind it entirely.

Enel’s gaze fixated on the mist, his curiosity growing. Allison, however, looked uneasily at the rows of priests and the overwhelming grandeur of the space. It felt almost suffocating in its magnificence, as if the room itself demanded reverence.

They stopped a few steps from the misty veil, the air around them heavy with a quiet, anticipatory energy.

The voice that emanated from the misty veil was deep, resonant, and commanding, yet oddly melodic. It carried an unnatural weight, reverberating through the grand hall.

"Congratulations, Enel and Allison," the voice said, its tone rich with authority and reverence. "You have made it this far and survived the Bowl of Forgiveness. A rare feat, indeed."

Allison immediately fell to her knees, her head bowed low, her body trembling slightly under the voice’s sheer presence. The rows of priests hummed approvingly, their hands clasped in prayer as they gazed toward the veil.

But Enel stood unmoved. His gaze fixed on the mist, his posture relaxed, yet his presence filled the room in a way that made him seem larger than life.

The hall grew quieter as the priests exchanged glances. One of them stepped forward, his robe glimmering with golden runes. "Kneel before the Prophet!" the priest commanded sharply, his voice tinged with disapproval. "It is not your place to defy the sacred word."

Enel cocked his head slightly, an almost amused expression on his face. He took a deliberate step forward, the sound of his boots echoing through the silent hall.

"Shenanigans," he said, his voice casual, almost mocking. "Let’s skip them, shall we? We both know I wasn’t given special treatment just for some measly ten seconds of prophecy."

Gasps echoed among the priests, their whispers bouncing off the golden walls. Allison glanced at him in panic, her eyes begging him to stop, but he didn’t even spare her a glance.

Enel continued, his tone conversational but with an undercurrent of sharpness. "I must say, I’m impressed. The Prophet—such a grandiose title—managing to build this level of influence in just a hundred years? That’s no small feat. There are only a handful of beings in the universe capable of such a rise, and most of them have tasted the fruit of the Divine Tree of Knowledge, hidden in Eden."

At his words, many of the priests visibly stiffened, their calm exteriors cracking. One of them, his face twisted in anger, stepped forward and pointed a trembling finger at Enel. "Are you accusing the Prophet—chosen by the One Above All—of being a mere sister of Eve?"

Enel chuckled, the sound low and confident. He shook his head slowly, as if the very idea was beneath him. "If I were calling the Prophet a sister of Eve, I’d be complimenting them." His words were laced with sarcasm, and the faintest trace of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

The priest’s face flushed red with fury. Another priest, barely able to contain his anger, barked, "Guards! Seize him and the woman! Such blasphemy cannot be tolerated!"

Allison’s breathing quickened as the heavy footfalls of armored guards echoed in the hall. She turned to Enel, her voice a hushed plea. "What are you doing? Stop this!"

Before the guards could act, the air was pierced by a booming laugh. It started deep and masculine, vibrating through the hall like a rolling thunder, before shifting to a lighter, feminine tone. The sound was unsettling, otherworldly, yet oddly captivating.

"Leave us!" the voice of the Prophet commanded, the words carrying an undeniable authority.

The priests froze in place, their anger melting into hesitation.

They exchanged uncertain glances before bowing low toward the veil. Without a word, they retreated, their steps soft and deliberate, leaving the hall one by one. Even the guards, who had been ready to strike, lowered their weapons and departed.

The heavy doors shut behind them with a resounding thud, leaving Enel and Allison alone in the grand chamber with the mist-shrouded Prophet. The silence that followed was deafening, the air heavy with anticipation.

Allison’s hands trembled slightly as she clutched her sides, her eyes darting toward Enel, who stood calm and unflinching. The mist swirled behind the veil, and the presence of the Prophet seemed to grow stronger, more tangible, as if they were preparing to speak again.

The veil suddenly parted, and the air seemed to grow colder as a figure emerged, reclining seductively on an intricately carved throne. Her form was half-clothed, with smooth, pale skin that glistened faintly under the light. Her face, however, was unsettling—a void where features should have been. No eyes, no nose, no ears, just a blank canvas of flesh. Yet, a chilling smile stretched across her face, sharp and knowing.

This was none other than Kanada.

Enel’s body stiffened, his eyes narrowing as recognition hit him like a tidal wave. But this was exactly the person he was expecting to see.

Memories surged forward, memories of his former life, of a dungeon on a plane of crystals whose life forms had strong soul connections, which had been the epicenter of Lucifer’s release.

It was there that he had first met Tomato, gained the imbue ability to poison that forever altered his soul, and encountered her—Kanada. After all, she was also Tomato’s maker.

Her voice slithered through the room, smooth and mocking. "How interesting it is to see you again, Enel." She leaned forward slightly, her featureless face somehow exuding menace and allure simultaneously. "How did you know? How could you have guessed it was me?"

Enel sighed, his demeanor calm but his eyes sharp with vigilance. "At first, I didn’t know for sure. But something felt...familiar. It all came together when I saw the runes on the walls in the corridors earlier." He paused, his voice steady but laced with quiet disdain. "They’re unique—designed to absorb the faith of believers. I’ve only seen them in one place before." He took a step forward, his gaze unwavering. "That dungeon. The one you left me in all those years ago."

Kanada’s smile widened, a soundless laugh escaping her before she gave a soft giggle, tilting her head in amusement. "Ah, yes. I remember that dungeon quite well. And you, Enel." She shifted slightly, her body exuding an unnatural grace. "Or perhaps I should call you by your well known name...Lenny Tales."