Devil Slave (Satan system)-Chapter 1199: No Respect For The Dead

Gasps and horrified murmurs rippled through the crowd, paralyzed by the brutal reality of what had just happened. Even Enel’s siblings stared in stunned disbelief, their faces drained of color.

But there was more...

Without a hint of remorse, Enel stepped forward, his boot crushing down on Nerina’s lifeless head, grinding it into a grotesque smear against the ground.

The wet, sickening crunch echoed through the arena, filling the air with a spine-chilling dread.

For a moment, the entire crowd was frozen in shock, the weight of his action sinking in as Enel stood there, his face cold and unfeeling, the silence amplifying the horror of his merciless display.

Enel’s smirk only deepened as he watched the stunned expressions of those around him, savoring the look of horror that filled their faces. Even the Queen, usually unshaken, had risen to her feet, stunned. Death in the arena wasn’t new, but this… this felt chillingly deliberate. Enel’s boot twisted against Nerina’s lifeless body, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction as he met the terrified gaze of his opponents.

Dana’s scream broke through the silence, raw and desperate. She fell to her knees, her hands clutching her chest as if she could physically hold back the flood of emotions ripping through her. Her fingers trembled, her face pale and contorted with a mixture of shock and agony. She was paralyzed, unable to reconcile the brutal sight before her.

For the others, the shock quickly turned into anger or dread. Some hesitated, fingers twitching as they gripped their weapons, eyes flickering with uncertainty as if doubting whether they should even attack.

But Enel’s voice cut through the tension, cold and unyielding. "Why do you all act surprised?" he spat, his gaze as sharp as his words. "From poisons at the dinner table to assassination attempts during training and even in my own room… You’ve tried to kill me time and time again. Did you think I’d be that easy to dispose of? Or that I’d let fresh meat escape the slaughterhouse?"

His eyes narrowed, filled with a ruthless determination as he dropped into a fighting stance. "I’ll slaughter all of you."

Enraged, Aiden and Jay charged, their eyes blazing. Narina had been their sister, sharing the same mother. And now she was gone—brutally, mercilessly. The hatred in their eyes was unmistakable.

Behind them, the elders who had initially stood back, assuming Enel’s siblings could handle him, snapped into action. They had grossly underestimated him, but now, seeing the level of his brutality, they were ready to finish the fight. They surged forward, their footsteps pounding against the platform as they approached with deadly intent.

The onlookers smirked, murmuring to each other. Some were whispering that Enel’s end was inevitable now that the elders had joined. The crowd seemed confident, murmuring amongst themselves that he couldn’t possibly withstand the assault of those seasoned warriors.

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But Enel’s eyes narrowed with focus, unfazed by their numbers. His fingers began to move with impossible speed, dancing through the air as if weaving an invisible tapestry. Runes appeared, luminous and complex, forming faster than the eye could follow.

The Queen’s eyes widened as she watched the intricate pattern unfolding before her. "Is… is he weaving a law?" she muttered, shock lacing her words.

One elder beside her shook his head in disbelief. "But that’s impossible. To weave a law requires centuries of practice… mastery of the highest order. And yet he’s doing it—he’s only seven years old! What other secrets does this child hide?"

Enel’s fingers continued their swift, deadly dance, and the air around him thickened with energy, shimmering as the runes wove together, casting an ominous glow that silenced even the boldest of whispers in the crowd.

The elders descended with a fury that shook the ground, wielding halberds, swords, and staffs—all radiating deadly power. The force of their combined strike ripped through the platform, leaving a gaping hole in the earth. At the center of the chaos, Enel’s hastily woven law held firm, runes glowing fiercely around him as they absorbed the brunt of the assault.

Yet, even protected, the strain was immense. Enel stumbled, coughing up a mouthful of blood. His gaze flickered to the crimson stain in his hand, and he frowned.

He’d known the risk—his magic wasn’t strong enough to sustain such a law. By forcing it, he’d taken on terrible internal injuries. But the pain was a lesser evil compared to letting those elders get their hands on him.

A sadistic glint flashed in his eyes as he looked down at Narina’s fresh corpse, her body still warm underfoot. Bending down, he dug his fingers into her flesh, exposing skin as he began to carve runes with his own blood.

The crowd was once more stunned. Enel’s cruelty could not even respect the dead in battle.

His movements were precise, almost reverent, yet his expression was nothing but twisted satisfaction.

As he worked, he whispered softly, his words flowing in an almost melodic rhythm, each syllable resonating like the haunting notes of an ancient, forbidden tune.

In the crowd, a group cloaked in dark hoods perked up, their faces hidden. One shifted, and for a brief moment, a white wing slipped free from his cloak before he quickly tucked it away. He turned to the others, his voice barely audible yet filled with shock. "The child… he speaks in the language of the heavens. Enouchian—the language of angels."

Murmurs of astonishment rippled through the hidden figures. This language was deadly; a single syllable could shatter the mind of any human, rendering them mute or mad. Yet here Enel was, chanting it effortlessly, as if it were his mother tongue.

As Enel’s voice filled the air, the holy power within him began to shift, gathering around Narina’s body. The runes he carved pulsed, then glowed with an ethereal light. Slowly, her body began to shrivel, her skin clinging to her bones as the blood drained out of her, flowing into the air in ribbons of crimson.

From this blood, three luminous orbs formed, hovering above her with a spectral glow—one dark, one pure light, and one a brilliant gold. Enel raised his hand, and with a commanding flick of his wrist, the orbs began to converge. They twirled and spiraled in the air, merging into a dazzling display, shaping and transforming before the stunned eyes of the onlookers, coalescing into a weapon like no other....