Devil Slave (Satan system)-Chapter 1292: Enel Leaves Nothing To Chance

The mysterious figures stepped out of the shadows, their presence sending a wave of tension through the room. Their skin shimmered faintly, a bioluminescent glow that became more pronounced as they moved into the light. This was no magic—it was an innate ability of their kind, one that made them particularly lethal. The bowl of forgiveness might have dulled their magic, but this natural trait remained unaffected, ensuring they were still formidable assassins.

Enel’s eyes scanned them briefly, his smirk growing. He didn’t flinch or sit up from where he lounged on the bed. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, as if the situation didn’t concern him at all.

Then another figure stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over the others. Prince Calcium emerged, his confident smile as wide as his shoulders. His ornate armor reflected the light, and his eyes burned with arrogance.

"Well, well, well... so Enel is the mysterious, great Lenny Tales. No wonder your confidence today. But it does not matter," the prince began, his voice dripping with venom. "Today, you will pay for the humiliation you caused me during the competition. I will end you, and this time, there will be no theatrics to save you."

Enel tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. He didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence linger until it became unbearable. Then, with a low chuckle, he shook his head.

Prince Calcium’s smile faltered. "Why are you laughing? What’s so funny?"

"Funny?" Enel drawled, scratching the back of his head lazily. "Oh, nothing much. It’s just... everything’s going according to plan."

The prince’s face darkened with rage. "Attack him! Now!"

The assassins didn’t hesitate. Four of them lunged toward Enel with speed and precision that would have overwhelmed most opponents. But Enel didn’t even bother to rise from the bed.

The first assassin slashed downward with a glowing blade, aiming for Enel’s head. In one fluid motion, Enel tilted his head to the side, the blade slicing through the air inches from his face. His hand shot up, grabbing the assassin’s wrist and twisting it sharply. The sound of bones snapping echoed in the room as the blade clattered to the ground.

"You should really work on your grip," Enel quipped, flipping the assassin over his shoulder and sending him crashing into the wall.

The second assassin came at him from the side, aiming a precise kick at his ribs. Enel caught the foot mid-air, twisting it sharply to unbalance his attacker. He swung the assassin’s body like a ragdoll, using the momentum to slam them into the third attacker who was closing in.

"Two for one special," he said with a grin, his eyes never leaving Allison, who was still held hostage in the corner.

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The fourth assassin, seemingly more cautious, tried a feint before launching a series of rapid strikes aimed at Enel’s torso. Enel leaned back slightly, his movements so minimal it was as if he was swaying to a slow rhythm. When the assassin overcommitted on a thrust, Enel caught their wrist and pulled them forward, planting his elbow into their sternum with a force that sent them sprawling.

"You call that technique?" Enel mocked, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

The first assassin, still nursing a broken wrist, tried to attack again. Enel sighed, grabbing a pillow from the bed and using it to deflect the strikes. He spun the pillow like a weapon, landing a solid hit to the assassin’s face that sent them reeling.

"Death by pillow," he said dryly. "What a way to go."

Throughout the chaos, Enel’s eyes never left Allison. Her expression was a mixture of shock and frustration, her gaze darting between him and Marian.

Marian snarled, tightening her grip on the knife at Allison’s neck. "You’re playing games while your mate’s life hangs by a thread!"

Enel’s smirk widened. "Games? Marian, you should know by now—I never play games. I win them."

As the assassins regrouped for another attack, Enel shifted his weight slightly on the bed, preparing for their next move.

"Come on," he taunted, his voice calm and steady. "You can’t all be this terrible. Show me something interesting."

The assassins hesitated, glancing at each other uncertainly. Even Prince Calcium’s confident demeanor began to crack.

"You’re pathetic!" the prince roared. "Do I have to do everything myself?"

Enel chuckled, leaning back against the headboard. "By all means, Your Highness. Join the fun. I could use the workout."

As Prince Calcium took a step forward, his stride confident and his fury barely contained, he suddenly froze mid-step. A cough racked his body, and blood splattered onto the pristine floor. His eyes widened in shock, but before he could react further, he heard similar coughing fits behind him. His assassins, the ones who had lunged at Enel moments ago, were clutching their throats, blood dripping from their lips.

"What... what is this?" Prince Calcium croaked, his knees buckling as he fought to stay upright.

Enel leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with a calm detachment. He shook his head as though disappointed. "Took longer than I thought, but I suppose it finally kicked in."

The prince fell to his knees, trembling, his rage momentarily overtaken by fear. "What have you done to me?" he demanded, blood staining his teeth.

Enel stood leisurely, stretching his arms above his head as if he had just woken from a nap. "Oh, this? I’m talking about the bowl of forgiveness," he said, his tone casual, almost conversational.

Prince Calcium’s eyes darted wildly as his breaths grew labored. "What do you mean? Did you—did you poison me?"

Enel chuckled softly as he strolled toward the prince, each step deliberate and unhurried. "Me? Poison you? No, Your Highness. That would be beneath me. Besides, it wasn’t my hands that gave you the bowl of forgiveness in the first place, was it?"

The prince’s eyes widened with realization as he gasped, "Scholar Zobo?"

Enel nodded, crouching slightly to meet the prince’s panicked gaze. "Exactly. I dropped the bowl of forgiveness before Scholar Zobo and gave him very clear instructions to ensure he picked a side or the destruction of him and his people. After all, it was the only way you’d be allowed to remain in the city. And I knew your thirst for revenge would ensure you didn’t hesitate. You practically drank your own downfall."

Prince Calcium tried to speak, but another violent cough cut him off. Blood pooled at the corners of his lips as his trembling hand reached out in vain. "I’m royalty. If I die, my people will hunt you down. They’ll know it was you!"

Enel tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "That’s where you’re wrong. You see, it wasn’t me who poisoned you. Scholar Zobo weighed his options—between facing the wrath of the demon royal families and your Kalu royal family, he made a choice. Since he knew I’m already getting half of your territory and military power as part of our deal, he decided siding with me was the smarter move. The lesser evil, you could say. After all, vexing the Great Kalu was cheaper than vexing the royal demons."

The prince’s eyes flickered with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal. He opened his mouth, perhaps to plead or curse, but no sound came out. His body gave one final shudder before collapsing to the floor.

Behind him, his assassins followed, their bodies crumpling like broken dolls. The room fell eerily silent, save for the faint wheezing of their dying breaths.

Enel straightened up, dusting his hands as if he’d just finished a mundane chore. He glanced down at the prince’s lifeless form, his expression impassive. "Well, Your Highness," he murmured, "looks like your grand plan to end me didn’t go quite the way you imagined."

As he turned his gaze toward Allison, still held hostage by Commander Marian, his smile grew sharper, his eyes glinting with the promise of more chaos to come.

As Enel turned his attention to Marian, her confidence faltered. Though her grip on the blade against Allison’s neck was tight, her hands trembled ever so slightly. The sight of Prince Calcium and his elite assassins lying lifeless on the ground had visibly shaken her.

"Stay back!" Marian barked, her voice louder than she intended, betraying her growing fear.

But Enel didn’t stop. Instead, he took one deliberate step forward, then another, his expression calm, almost mocking.

Marian’s lips curled into a desperate, unhinged smile as she began to laugh, a sound that echoed eerily in the silent room. "You think you can intimidate me?" she said, her voice sharp. "You don’t understand, do you? I love Allison. I love her so much that I’d die for her. But there’s a reason this blade is at her neck."

Enel paused, tilting his head. "And what reason would that be?" he asked, his tone casual but laced with curiosity.

Marian’s laughter turned manic as she tightened her grip on the blade. "When I came to this holy city of Pep all those years ago, I received a prophecy from the great Prophet himself. He told me, ’Your love will save and end you.’" Her eyes darkened, her grin twisting with madness. "So, if Allison is no more... then she can’t end me, can she?"

Without hesitation, Marian moved the blade in a swift, precise motion. Allison’s body crumpled to the ground with a heavy thud.

"NO!" Marian shouted, as if to drown out any doubts in her own mind. "If she’s gone, then I’m free. Free of that cursed prophecy!

But Enel’s expression didn’t change. His smile remained as calm and unwavering as ever, and it was this unsettling reaction that sent a chill down Marian’s spine.

"Why... why are you smiling?" she demanded, her voice trembling now.

Enel stepped closer, his gaze fixed on her. "Are you really so stupid as to think I wouldn’t have a way to protect my mate?"

Marian’s eyes widened in confusion and fear. Slowly, she looked down at Allison, who lay motionless at her feet. But instead of lifeless eyes staring back at her, Allison’s face shifted into a smirk. Her amber eyes gleamed with an unsettling confidence as if mocking Marian’s sheer ignorance.