Devil Slave (Satan system)-Chapter 1404: Pathetic.

Raphael's zig-zag sword whipped forward again, bending mid-air to seek Crusher's throat. The giant barely parried, hammer clanging against the blade with a shower of sparks. Blood already trickled from his wounds, but Crusher's eyes narrowed. He leaned close to Perseus during the brief lull, voice a low rumble.

"Use it now," Crusher whispered.

Perseus nodded sharply. He waved his hands, green electricity crackling from his fingertips.

"Arcane domain: House of Lightning!"

Instantly, a dome of surging green energy erupted around them—pulling Crusher, Raphael, and Perseus inside. The arena outside blurred, the domain sealing them in a storm-ravaged world: thunder boomed endlessly, lightning forked across a darkened sky, and the ground hummed with electric charge. The air tasted metallic, every breath charged. Perseus's power amplified here—his green bolts thicker, faster, his movements a blur of storm-speed.

Raphael paused, sword still twisting in his grip. His golden aura flickered against the green haze. "A pocket realm? You think this cage will hold me?"

Perseus smirked, beard crackling with static. "It'll do more than hold you. It'll fry you."

He thrust his hands forward. Lightning constructs formed—massive wolves made of green electricity, eyes glowing, jaws snapping with thunderous cracks. Three of them lunged at Raphael, claws raking the air. One clamped onto the angel's leg, voltage surging through his armor. Raphael's form shuddered, holy light dimming where the construct bit. He swung his sword, the zig-zag blade bending to slice through the wolf's neck—it exploded in a burst of sparks, but the shockwave still jolted him back.

Crusher charged in the opening, hammer swinging in a wide arc. The domain boosted him too—his muscles buzzing with borrowed electricity, strikes faster. The hammer connected with Raphael's side, the impact like a thunderclap. Raphael staggered, a crack appearing in his breastplate. Holy ichor leaked, sizzling against the electric ground.

Perseus pressed the advantage. More constructs: a spear of lightning hurled from his palm, piercing Raphael's shoulder. The angel grunted, wings flaring. Another construct—a massive eagle of green bolts—dove from above, talons tearing at his back. Raphael twisted, sword bending to fend it off, but the eagle's wings clipped him, sending arcs of green electricity crawling over his form. His movements slowed, light flickering as if the domain was draining him.

"You feel that?" Perseus taunted, summoning chains of lightning that wrapped Raphael's arms. "This is our house. Your light doesn't shine here."

Crusher followed up, hammer crashing down. Raphael blocked with his sword, but the zig-zag blade bent under the force, and the impact drove him to one knee. The chains tightened, green voltage searing his skin. Holy aura weakened further, feathers singeing at the edges. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Raphael's eyes narrowed. "Fools. You think a storm can eclipse the divine?"

He raised his free hand. Light bloomed from his core—raw, glorious, terrifying. "Arcane domain: Citadel of Eternal Judgment!"

Opening another domain inside someone else's shouldn't have been possible. The laws of arcane spaces forbade it—overlapping realms shattered or collapsed. But Raphael's power bent reality. His domain expanded like a supernova, golden walls of unbreakable light erupting outward. Towers of judgment rose, each tipped with eyes that pierced illusions. The green dome cracked, then shattered entirely. Perseus's House of Lightning swallowed whole, overwritten by this new realm: a vast citadel of gleaming marble and fire, skies filled with watching seraphim shadows, ground etched with runes that burned sin from existence.

Perseus staggered back, his constructs fizzling out. "Impossible..."

Crusher roared, hammer swinging desperately. Raphael vanished in a flash of light—reappearing behind the giant. His zig-zag sword lashed out, bending to find the joint in Crusher's arm. One clean slice. The limb severed at the elbow, tumbling through the air. But before it hit the ground, Raphael's holy aura flared—turning the arm to golden dust mid-fall, scattering like ash in wind.

Crusher bellowed in pain, blood pouring from the stump. He swung his hammer one-handed, but Raphael was already gone.

Perseus charged, green lightning spear thrusting. Raphael reappeared at his side. The sword bent impossibly, slashing across Perseus's waist. Deep gash opened, blood pouring in sheets. Perseus dropped to one knee, clutching the wound.

While the two were down, Raphael hovered above them, sword still twisting in his grip. He chuckled—low, resonant, echoing through his domain.

"Is this all the human race can present? Mortals playing at power... pathetic."

Meanwhile, King Alexander, Athena, and Tomato faced Michael.

The archangel avatar dropped his flaming sword, letting it embed tip-first into the platform with a resonant hum. He stepped forward, bare hands raised in a loose, inviting guard—palms open, wings half-spread, as if welcoming a spar rather than a war.

Tomato frowned, her red skin flushing darker, tail lashing behind her. "Oh, I'll make sure you use that weapon."

Like a shooting star, she launched forward—body blurring with speed, muscles coiled for impact. Her fist rocketed toward Michael's face, raw demonic power behind it. Michael sidestepped smoothly, one wing flicking to redirect the force. Tomato twisted mid-air, tail whipping around like a serrated blade, aiming for his neck.

Michael caught the tail mid-swing, holy light flaring from his palm to sear her scales. She hissed but yanked back, using the momentum to spin into a knee strike at his midsection. He blocked with crossed arms, the impact echoing like thunder, pushing him back a step. Tomato pressed, horns lowered, charging like a bull—fists flying in a barrage: left hook to the jaw, right uppercut to the ribs, tail coiling to stab at his thigh.

The angel weaved through most, but one punch grazed his cheek, drawing golden ichor. His wings snapped forward, one feather-edge slicing across her arm in retaliation. Tomato growled, blood dripping, and grabbed his wing—pulling hard to unbalance him. Michael twisted free, using the pull to spin into an elbow strike that cracked against her shoulder. She staggered but countered with her tail, wrapping it around his leg and yanking.

He went down to one knee—deliberately—and as she lunged for a finishing blow, Michael surged up. His bare hands clamped onto her horns like vices. Holy energy pulsed through his grip, burning her scalp. Tomato thrashed, tail stabbing wildly, fists pounding his chest—but he held firm.

With a grunt, Michael flung her away—horns as handles, hurling her across the platform like a ragdoll. She smashed into the barrier, shadow runes flaring to absorb the impact, sliding down in a heap.

Michael straightened, wings folding neatly.

"Pathetic," he muttered.