Devil Slave (Satan system)-Chapter 1207: Take By Force

Just as the demons rushed into battle, the battlefield erupted in chaos.

But Therion immediately ascended gracefully into the sky, his ethereal wings glowing with radiant energy.

Hovering above the carnage, he spread his four wings wide and murmured, "*Breath of Unbound Zeal*."

From the feathers of his wings, a billowing cloud of pure white smoke cascaded like a river, washing over the fallen angels below. The mist moved with purpose, swirling around each angel and entering their lungs as they gasped for air.

At first, the effect was subtle—a soft shimmer in their veins and an aura of newfound power. But then their eyes burned, becoming red.

The graceful faces of the angels suddenly twisted into grotesque masks of feral rage. Muscles tensed unnaturally, and their angelic beauty gave way to a bestial barbarism. With guttural cries, they turned toward the demons, their movements were now jerky and aggressive.

In a sudden, collective frenzy, the fallen angels surged forward.

They no longer wielded the elegance of divine techniques, they tore into the demons with unrelenting savagery.

And the tearing of limbs here and there was the order on the battlefield, blood pouring all around in such frenzy that it was like multiple facets had opened all at once, both demon and angels.

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One angel, missing an arm and bleeding profusely, lunged at a Greed Clan demon twice its size, tearing into its throat with jagged teeth.

Another, its wing severed and hanging limply, used its remaining strength to gouge out a demon’s eyes with its bare hands before slamming its head repeatedly into the ground.

Even when grievously wounded—limbs hacked off or torsos slashed open—the angels refused to retreat.

They fought on, biting, clawing, and impaling themselves in their berserk state to inflict maximum damage. The battlefield became a grotesque beauty of unhinged brutality.

Enel watched from his corner, his face twisted in a mix of disgust and unease. "This isn’t strategy. This is madness," he muttered, frowning deeply. The angels who had once been the symbol of calculated elegance, had devolved into mindless beasts.

They attacked indiscriminately, ripping apart demons even when mortally wounded. Some angels, even while disemboweled, used their teeth and jagged bones as weapons. Their screams were no longer commands or battle cries—they were primal wails of rage and pain.

The demons who had initially been confident, began to falter. Even the newly summoned demons of the Greed family found themselves pushed back, their arrogance replaced by fear. One hulking demon, towering above the others, swung its massive ax into an angel’s torso, cleaving it in half—only for the angel’s top half to latch onto its face and gouge out its eyes with bloodied fingers.

Belakor’s crimson eyes darted between the carnage and Therion. His mouth curled into a rare snarl. "What sorcery is this?" he hissed, stepping back slightly. Even the Greed demon commander, his cigar now burned down to a stub, looked unsettled. "They’re...insane," he muttered, his booming voice betraying a hint of hesitation.

Meanwhile, Therion floated above the chaos, his expression indifferent, as though the madness below was beneath his concern. The battlefield burned with violence, but he did not so much as glance at his thrashing siblings. Instead, he turned toward Enel.

"Such a mess," Therion murmured, his British accent as calm as ever. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, he shot toward Enel, his glowing wings leaving a trail of light in the air. Before Enel could react, Therion’s hand shot out and clamped tightly around his neck, lifting him effortlessly off the ground.

Enel struggled, his hands clawing at Therion’s unyielding grip. His feet dangled as he gasped for air, his golden eyes wide with panic. "Release me!" he choked out, his voice strained.

Therion tilted his head, observing Enel as though inspecting an insect. His calm demeanor made the act even more chilling. "You’ve done well to orchestrate such chaos, little wolf," he said softly, tightening his grip slightly, "but I think it’s time you gave up this game. You’re clever, yes, but cleverness will not save you now."

Below them, the battle raged on, but even in the middle of the maelstrom, all eyes were beginning to turn toward Therion and the choking Enel.

Therion raised a hand, his fingers curling as he whispered in the ancient, melodious language of angels. The air shimmered with divine power, and the command law, glowing faintly, manifested on Enel’s forehead. The angel’s golden eyes gleamed with ruthless determination as he stepped closer, his hand reaching toward the radiant symbol.

"You would not give it up willingly, boy," Therion said in a chilling, condescending tone. "Then I shall take it by force. Even if it means tearing apart your very soul to retrieve it." His voice, calm yet laced with cruelty, sent a shiver through the onlookers, Enel’s siblings.

Enel gasped and his body trembled as he felt the ethereal pull. It was as if invisible hands were digging into his being, trying to wrench the command law from the core of his existence. His breaths came in shallow gasps, and his face twisted in pain as he fought against the angel’s overpowering force.

Suddenly, a guttural groan broke through the chaos. Allison, who had been watching in desperation, dropped to all fours. Her body convulsed violently, muscles rippling and stretching as her transformation began.

Snow-white fur erupted across her body, shimmering under the chaotic light of the battlefield. Her human features contorted, her jaw elongating into a fierce, lupine snout. Her eyes, glowing with a piercing silver light, locked onto Therion.

Her claws, sharp as razors, extended from her fingers as she let out a primal howl that echoed across the arena.

"Get away from him!" she roared, her voice a haunting mixture of human and beast, filled with raw determination.

Alison lunged forward with terrifying speed, her powerful limbs propelling her like a streak of white lightning. She ignored the pain that wracked her body from the sudden transformation, her only focus on the angel strangling the life out of Enel.

As she reached Therion, her claws swiped toward his throat with unerring precision. She groaned and screamed in effort, pouring all her strength into the attack. But just as her claws should have torn through his neck, they passed through his form as though he were made of mist.

Therion’s image shimmered faintly, and a faint smile graced his lips.... "you lose..."