Devil Slave (Satan system)



"What the heck is that?" Cuban pointed between her legs.

Hector's attention had been drawn to it too, and the smile on his face froze.

Athena was confused by their reaction.

However, slowly, she leaned in to see...

She frowned at what she saw in between her legs.

It was... A baby.

But not just any baby.

It was the same baby at that time. It peered through her private area.

"Mama!" It called to her as it stretched his hand for her.

Subconsciously, she stretched to reach it too, and the moment she touched fingers with it, it suddenly grabbed her by her hair, pulling her closer.

Its voice suddenly changed to that of an old man: "You sat there and watched as he slaughtered me. How are you any different?"

It aggressively pulled at her head until her head was forced to go between her legs, and then it pulled her into her legs.

She screamed at the sheer pain it brought her, but she was pulled in.

There was suddenly a deep, blinding sensation.

It was the same familiar one she felt whenever she went through a portal.

She opened her eyes and looked around her.

She could not believe what she was seeing.

Slowly, she stood to her feet.

Her movement is still slow from the intense pain in her shoulder from the dislocation that refused to heal as a result of the negative Magic.

At the moment, she stood in the center of the Arena.

It was empty of the usual crowd of demons that served as its audience.

All around her were dead bodies. These dead bodies were, surprisingly, not those that died of the voice of Bedlam.

After all, the dead bodies were all gladiators.

"What? What is going on?" She asked.

"What do you mean!?" A voice answered her, and she immediately turned around.

It was the Magistri.

However, he wore the usual sackcloth he would wear during meetings in the Order of Gladiators.

His sack clothes covered his entire body, just as always.

Rough, mysterious, but also condescending to the people around him, giving an air of authoritative manipulation.

He was usually silent when in these clothes and only gave orders with his gestures.

Which added extra layers of confidence to a charm no one could behold or comprehend.

However, today was different.

Today, he spoke.

One step at a time, he approached her.

His steps were not picky; he stepped on the human dead beneath him.

For some, it was a head; for others, it was other body parts.

However, the one thing they all had in common was the fact that his heavy steps burst through their bodies.

It was like he was stepping on oranges as their bodies crushed under his fierce weight, splashing their red juices, and innards in all directions.

Subconsciously, she backed off in a panic.

She didn't know why, but she was scared. She had never been scared to see him in this attire. An attire she had seen so many times and even had the opportunity to act as his assistant.

 I think you should take a look at

However, right now, she was scared beyond reason.

He stopped barely ten meters from her.

Now she knew why she was scared.

He was actually a giant of 50 meters in height.

He paused as his eyes remained on her.

"I'm surprised that you don't remember them. After all, they are all very familiar faces." His voice was as hoarse as ever, but this time around, it was loud and deafening.

Subconsciously, she looked once more, this time paying more attention to the dead faces.

Athena was blessed with an incredible talent that made all her senses extra sharp.

This meant that she captured details far more effectively.

In this case, it was her eyes.

As long as she had seen it, she could easily recall it.

And, in fact, she had seen these people before.

Each and every one of them was truly a familiar person.

These were people she had met before.

Some of them, once and the second time, at the point of their deaths.

Yes!

They were men and women who had come to the Order of Gladiators with the intention of escaping the Arena.

However, all escape plans, being within the control zone of the Magistri, ended in total failure.

These people had all died. Their numbers were large. In fact, one could see that no one in the arena had killed as much as she had with her plots.

All the while, she had told herself that it was to save her own life.

There was a face that stood out the most among all the faces.

How could it not?

Even now, she remembers it clearly.

She had only been a little girl then, but she remembered when he came to the order of Gladiators.

That face and that proud confidence in his ability

This was Hector's father.

She remembered at the time that she had really wanted to make a good impression on the Magistri and prove her usefulness.

She had orchestrated the entire plan and how it was to end.

An impressive work that deeply won the Magistri's favor.

The scene suddenly changed, and with the Magistri by her side, she watched as Hector's father was laid on the crucifix.

She remembered each nail as it was hammered into the flesh of his arms and legs.

And then she remembered as he screamed at the top of his lungs at each one as it sank heavily into his flesh.

Just in front of the crucifix was a boy. He was young and about her age.

Tears trailed down his face as he watched his father die.

Athena could not take the sudden helplessness she felt as she fell on her knees.

She stretched her hands, trying to reach for the boy. "I... I am..." The dam in her chest broke up, and tears flowed down her face.

"Hector... I am... sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to... I only wanted to..."

"Survive!?" The Magistri's voice sounded behind her.

And then he suddenly pulled at her hair.

"Wakey wakey!!! I am Looking for Lenny Tales!"