Devil Slave (Satan system)-Chapter 1279: Requirement to meet the Prophet

As Enel walked through the massive gates with Allison and Marian close behind, the subtle tension in the air was palpable. Allison’s face bore a shadow of melancholy, her usually confident demeanor subdued. She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice soft.

"I can’t stop thinking about Lana," she said, almost to herself. "She just... lost her life. Just like that."

Enel paused briefly, glancing over his shoulder with an indifferent expression before turning forward again, his long strides unbroken. "People die all the time," he replied flatly, his tone devoid of sentiment.

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Allison quickened her pace, coming up beside him, her voice sharper now. "Doesn’t it bother you? She loved you, Enel."

He sighed, his eyes scanning the sprawling expanse of the city ahead. "I’ve killed my own siblings before," he said casually, as if commenting on the weather. " You were there, and you sided with me, even against my father and the entire city. What’s one more death to me?"

Enel was not joking with his words. neither wa she being an asshole. He was just being himself. Even before his first reincarnation, he was already desentized against deaths. He himself had died a couple of times now. He really did not see what the big deal was.

However, Allison did not seem to see it that way.

Allison stopped in her tracks, staring at him. "But... she loved you," she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Enel finally turned to meet her gaze, his eyes cold and unyielding. "And so what?" he asked, his brow raised, his tone cuttingly indifferent.

For a moment, she searched his face, hoping to find some trace of regret or sorrow. Instead, she found nothing—no façade, no pretense, just raw, unapologetic detachment. It was Enel, plain and simple.

Her lips parted as if to argue further, but the words caught in her throat. Commander Marian chose that moment to step closer, her voice low as she whispered to Allison, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "And that’s the man you chose over me. If he doesn’t care about his own blood sister, imagine how little he’d care if it were you lying in the dust, blasted by a Great Demon cultivator."

Allison’s eyes flicked toward Marian, but she said nothing. Together, the three continued walking through the gates, their presence adding to the steady flow of beings entering the city.

The gates loomed above them, massive and intricate. Even creatures capable of flight adhered to the rules, their wings tucked in as they joined the pilgrimage on foot. It was all part of the sacred ritual.

As they passed over the threshold, many knelt down, their faces pressing against the red sands beneath them. "Sands of forgiveness, cleanse my soul," they murmured in unison, their voices a soft chant carried by the wind.

This was a blessing carried out on entering this holy city. The City known to be the center hub for those that want to worship heaven and the One Above All.

What’s more, the fate readings that had come from this city had been the most accurate that he or any other had ever seen. He needed to know why. If this city was really connected with Heaven, then he wanted to know and even better, he wanted to invite someone over.

But one look around and it seemed that it would not be easy. Guards ,mounted every post, similarly in white robes. They were of greater demon and above in rank which was incredible to know. After all, who would use one that rule over entire sets of planes as a mere guard.

There was also something peculiar about the energy that came from their bodies. He could sense that it was not normal. Although he could not exactly put his hands on it. At least not yet.

He could also tell that there were eyes on those entering and that custom in this place should be followed.

Enel and his companions observed the act for a moment before reluctantly following suit to kiss the earth.

The sand was warm and faintly fragrant, like crushed herbs and spices. When he rose, Enel’s sharp gaze scanned the crowd. The city’s inhabitants, varied as they were—some with extra limbs, others with multiple heads or glowing skin—wore expressions that seemed oddly reserved, their eyes lingering on him and his party.

The scrutiny was alienating, though Enel was accustomed to being watched. Still, something about their stares unsettled him. Turning to Marian, he gestured subtly toward the crowd. "Why are they looking at us like that?"

Marian glanced around and then pointed to the people’s foreheads. "It’s the mark," she explained.

Each of the city’s inhabitants bore an upside-down cross etched into their skin, surrounded by intricate runes that seemed to pulse faintly with an inner light.

"The mark signifies those who have completed the Test of Faith," Marian continued. "It’s their badge of devotion to the One Above All. Without it, you’re an outsider. They can sense it."

She paused, glancing at the towering spires in the distance. "You’re lucky you arrived at this time of year. The prophet is preparing to meet with the people, and each of them gets exactly ten seconds in his presence."

"Ten seconds?" Enel frowned, the number sounding absurdly short. "What can anyone do in ten seconds?"

Marian gave him a wistful smile. "You can ask for one thing—the deepest desire of your heart. The prophet acts as a bridge, sending your words directly to the Seat of the One Above All. It’s tradition."

"And do they actually get what they want?" Enel asked skeptically.

"That depends on heaven," Marian replied, her tone earnest. "But it’s better than living with unanswered prayers."

Her words carried the weight of personal belief, and Enel noted the quiet conviction in her voice. She was a believer, through and through.

Marian continued, explaining the test that granted the mark. "The Test of Faith is a year-long process," she said. "It’s not just a physical trial; it’s a journey of spirit, mind, and soul."

The test, as she described it, was grueling and absurdly complex:

The Pilgrimage of Starvation.... Participants must travel across three separate deserts without food or water, relying only on faith to guide them to sustenance hidden by the city’s monks. The deserts were seeded with traps and illusions designed to test resolve.

The Labyrinth of Self... Inside an ancient temple, aspirants faced hallucinations of their worst fears and deepest regrets. They were required to confront these visions without succumbing to despair or anger.

The Offering of Pain... Each participant had to endure hours of a unique ritual where their skin was marked with the runes of the upside-down cross. The pain was said to cleanse the soul, but many fainted before the process was complete.

The Silence of Devotion.... For the final six months, participants lived in complete silence within the city, communicating only through gestures and expressions while carrying out daily tasks. Breaking the silence even once resulted in immediate disqualification.

"Only those who complete all these stages earn the mark," Marian concluded. "And only they are permitted to speak to the prophet."

Enel shook his head slightly. "All that for ten seconds?"

Marian’s gaze didn’t waver. "Ten seconds is enough when you believe."

Enel let out a long sigh, his gaze drifting to the towering spires of the city in the distance. "Have you done it before?" he asked, his voice casual but with an undertone of curiosity.

Commander Marian nodded, her expression softening as her eyes flickered toward Allison. "We did it," she said quietly, her voice carrying a faint trace of something deeper. "Years ago, when we came here on a... reconnaissance mission." Her words lingered, and as her gaze held on Allison, there was a flicker of something unspoken—an emotion that hung in the air between them.

Enel caught the lingering look but chose to remain silent. He filed it away, just another piece of the puzzle surrounding the dynamic between Marian and Allison. Instead, he sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Well, that means there’s no way we’re making it this year. No mark, no audience, no exceptions."

Marian’s lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. "Actually, there is a way," she said, her tone careful.

Enel turned his sharp gaze on her, his eyebrows arching slightly. "Oh?"

Marian nodded, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "But you’re not going to like it," she admitted. "It’ll bypass the entire process, and if we do it right, we’ll meet the prophet by tomorrow morning. Maybe even move straight to the front of the line."

Enel studied her for a moment, his dark eyes narrowing as if trying to peel back the layers of her suggestion. "And what’s the catch?" he asked, his voice calm but edged with skepticism.

Marian smirked faintly. "The catch," she said, "is that it’ll require breaking a few sacred traditions. And let’s just say it’s not going to win us any friends here... Also, you will have to lose something of vital importance."