Devil Slave (Satan system)-Chapter 1401: Sharra Void-Tongue Again?

Somehow, the wins had evened out. Angels and humans now stood tied in victories, each side claiming the same number. The arena buzzed with murmurs from both benches. But now, it was time for the greater demon ranks to battle.

Finally, she stepped out. Sharra Void-Tongue.

The moment she did, even Lucifer frowned. He remembered her from a hundred years ago. She was Tomato's underling who had won that pivotal battle, giving mortals the morale boost they needed. She was the reason Father Black had been bold enough to set his conditions back then.

Her wings tore open reality itself—six massive, translucent void-wings inscribed with moving runes that whispered in dead languages. Her dark blue skin gleamed under the arena lights. She could teleport through screams, and her voice was her deadliest weapon.

The moment she reached the fighting ground, Father Black waved at her. Sharra bowed politely in response. Meanwhile, little Elara screamed, calling out to her. Sharra Void-Tongue smiled and waved back.

Athena spoke up. "What of your mistress, Tomato?"

Sharra nodded. "They'll be here very soon. Wouldn't miss this for the world."

Athena nodded back.

Gabriel signaled the start. Sharra's opponent descended: a seven-winged angel avatar, wielding a sword of blazing holy fire. Its armor shone with unbreakable light, and it carried a shield etched with celestial wards. The angel charged first, sword slashing in a wide arc that sent waves of purifying flame across the sand.

Sharra opened her mouth and let out a low scream. The sound warped the air, teleporting her behind the angel in an instant. She slashed with one void-wing, the runes on it absorbing the holy flames mid-strike. The angel spun, shield blocking, but the impact cracked the ward slightly. Holy energy flickered where her wing touched.

The angel countered with a thrust, sword piercing toward her chest. Sharra screamed again—high-pitched this time—and teleported to its side. Her voice echoed, forming invisible blades that sliced at the angel's wings. Feathers fell, singed not by fire but by void corrosion. The angel bellowed, light bursting from its core to push her back. The blast hit Sharra, burning her arm, but she laughed. Her dark blue skin absorbed the holy energy, turning it black and veiny.

Michael watched from the host, his eyes narrowing. Her power seemed to eat holy energy, twisting it against itself.

Sharra pressed on. She screamed a chorus—multiple voices overlapping—and teleported in rapid bursts: left, right, above. Each scream carried void-runes that latched onto the angel's armor, draining its light. The angel swung wildly, sword connecting once on her wing. Void essence sprayed, but it reformed faster, the runes whispering louder. She retaliated with a full-throated roar, teleporting point-blank. Her wings wrapped around the angel, squeezing. Holy fire flared to break free, but the void-wings drank it in, dimming the glow.

The angel broke loose with a desperate shield bash, cracking Sharra's ribs. She coughed black blood but grinned. "Holy light? Tastes like ash."

She screamed again, teleporting under it. Her voice formed a vortex, pulling the angel down. It resisted, wings beating holy winds, but the scream intensified. Runes from her wings crawled onto its body, corroding the armor. The angel stabbed downward, grazing her shoulder. Holy energy seared her flesh, but she absorbed it, her skin darkening further.

Michael leaned forward. Her void was a direct bane to holy power—neutralizing, corrupting it on contact.

Sharra teleported above now, wings slamming down like hammers. The angel blocked with its shield, but the impact shattered it, void-runes spreading cracks. It thrust its sword up, piercing her side. Pain flashed in her eyes, but she grabbed the blade with bare hands. Her skin sizzled, but the void absorbed the holy fire, turning the sword dull. She yanked it free, snapping the blade in half.

The angel recoiled, wings flaring for a final burst. Light exploded outward, blinding the arena. Sharra screamed through it—her voice cutting the light like a knife. She teleported into the core of the blast, wings enveloping the angel completely. Runes whispered death. The void crushed inward, holy energy funneling into her, fueling the squeeze.

The angel thrashed, light dimming. No mercy. Sharra's final scream echoed—teleporting her jaws to its neck. She bit down, void tearing through. The avatar's head severed clean, body dissolving in immediate death, sparks fading to nothing.

Sharra stepped back, licking black blood from her lips. Earth cheered. Michael frowned deeper. Lucifer's eyes narrowed in recognition.

However Elara spat out her tongue. "Ewww... Sharra how could you do that? You took a bite out of a disgusting angel. Eww."

"Forgive my uncivilised manners lady Elara." She bowed in apology.

Elara looked away still disgusted.

Father Black waved a hand telling her well done.

Meanwhile, Kanada had slipped downstairs again to meet her in a dark corner.

Gabriel stepped forward again, his face twisted in a bitter scowl.

"The next match will begin," he announced, voice ringing across the arena.

From Earth's side, no one moved.

Gabriel's gaze shifted to Father Black.

The Regent stood with arms crossed, beard still, expression unreadable.

Father Black met his eyes and spoke calmly.

"They'll show up. Just give it a bit."

Gabriel waited.

The arena stayed silent.

No champion stepped onto the sand.

Ten minutes passed.

Gabriel raised his hand.

"According to the rules, Earth forfeits this match. Victory goes to Heaven."

A wave of devastation rolled through the Earth benches—murmurs, sharp breaths, clenched fists.

Many faces fell.

The greater demon ranks had been their stronghold.

The higher echelon of the Lenny family—those meant to represent in these final battles—were simply not present.

Surprisingly, Father Black remained calm.

And beside him, Alexander looked even less concerned.

He lounged back, popping grapes into his mouth one by one, the ones little Elara carefully fed him with tiny fingers.

The king chewed slowly, eyes half-lidded, as if the forfeit were no more than a mild inconvenience.

Still the angels side, Raphael spoke up. "They just gave up a precious win like that."

Michael frowned too. "Yes... it would seem like these humans are up to something."