Devil Slave (Satan system)-Chapter 1298: Athena’s Plan

Sarkina stood amidst the chaos, her wings radiating a blinding holy light that pulsed like waves across the battlefield. The undead Leviathan demons, still reeling under the torment of the forbidden treasure, were powerless to resist the surge of purity. Their rotted, formidable forms crumbled as the light engulfed them, their bodies turning to ash and scattering into the void.

"Glory to Lucifer, the Morning Star!" Sarkina declared with fervent joy, her voice echoing across the expanse. "He who gave us light, he who gave us strength! Witness the magnificence of his will!"

Serathion landed beside her, his armor scorched but intact. He watched the ash drift into the wind and spoke cautiously. "Lady Sarkina, are they… truly gone?"

Sarkina’s violet eyes gleamed with zeal as she turned to him. "Gone? In a way, yes. But true death is a luxury they cannot afford. Undeath binds their existence to suffering, an endless cycle of torment. As long as the forbidden treasures remain, their fragmented souls will never have the strength to reform. They are nothing now—shadows without form, dust without purpose."

Serathion gave a respectful nod, though unease flickered in his expression.

Sarkina raised the jar triumphantly, her smile widening into something almost predatory. "In the name of Lucifer, I command you all: rush down and claim this plane for our Lord! Let none stand in your way!"

A collective roar rose from the remaining fallen angels, their white wings spreading as they launched downward, their formations tight and precise. Serathion took the lead, his six wings cutting through the atmosphere like blades.

Sarkina lingered for a moment, her eyes following the descending legion. Then, as they vanished into the thickening air, a sly smile curled the corner of her lips. Without a word, she turned and ascended back into the vast expanse of space, her movements unnoticed by her comrades.

---

Far below, on the contested plane’s surface, Athena stood silently amidst the remnants of battle. Though blind, her glowing eyes seemed to pierce through layers of reality. She tilted her head upward, her expression calm but serious.

"They’re coming," she said, her voice soft yet commanding.

Moranda, standing amidst the chaos of the rebelling devils, glanced at her in confusion. His blade still dripped with ichor from his earlier skirmish. "Who’s coming? What are you talking about?"

Athena remained still, her radiant presence unwavering. "The fallen angels. They’re descending—like stars, rushing to claim the earth."

Moranda squinted toward the sky, and sure enough, he could see the glimmering lights streaking down in formation. His grip on his blade tightened as he prepared himself. "Then we fight. Let them come; they’ll fall like the rest."

"No," Athena said firmly, already moving toward the portal that shimmered a few steps away. Her steps were graceful but purposeful, her energy commanding attention. "We’re leaving."

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Moranda frowned, his voice rising in protest. "What? We can’t just leave! This is the heart of the plane! If we abandon it, they’ll take it for themselves!"

She didn’t pause, didn’t look back. "Exactly," she said simply.

The weight of her statement made him pause. He hurried to catch up with her, confusion and frustration mixing in his voice. "What do you mean, exactly? This isn’t just any plane. Why would we gift it to them?"

Athena stepped into the portal’s swirling light but stopped just long enough to turn her head slightly, her golden glow illuminating the faintest hint of a smirk. "The battle was never ours to win. Not here. Trust me, Moranda. There is a bigger game at play."

Moranda stared at her retreating form, his mind racing.

The devils behind him were still tearing into each other, chaos and blood filling the air. He looked up one last time at the descending angels, their light growing closer and brighter. There was no point in staying; even with his strength, he could not face the legion alone.

With a reluctant sigh, he turned and followed Athena into the portal, the shimmering doorway closing behind them just as the first of the fallen angels breached the surface.

The battlefield they left behind descended into a different kind of chaos, but it was no longer their concern.

In the dark expanse of Hell, the portal shimmered and disappeared behind Athena and Moranda. The oppressive air of the infernal plane was heavy with heat and whispers of tortured souls. As the two stood in silence, a voice boomed from nowhere, deep and commanding, carrying the weight of immeasurable power.

"A lot of my children were sacrificed for this plan of yours. Are you sure it will work?"

The words sent a shiver down Moranda’s spine. His hand instinctively went to his blade, but he knew it was pointless against the source of the voice. His heart pounded as he looked around, finding no visible speaker.

Athena, however, remained calm, her face betraying no emotion. She sighed, turning her blind gaze toward an empty corner of the cavern. "Let’s hope so, Lord Leviathan."

There was no one where she looked, only the endless shadows of Hell’s architecture. Yet, the mention of Leviathan’s name was enough to strike fear deep into Moranda’s heart. He froze, his inverted eyes wide as realization struck him.

Leviathan... the Lord of the Leviathan royal demons. An Evening Star being...

The weight of his title was suffocating. Moranda couldn’t suppress the chill coursing through him. He glanced at Athena, whose expression was stoic, calculating. Her calmness unnerved him even more. What sort of game was she playing that involved a being as ancient and powerful as Leviathan?

Before he could ask, another presence made itself known. Virgil, the ghostly figure who served as Athena’s right-hand, hovered close to her. His translucent form seemed to ripple as he spoke. "The voidlings report that the fallen angels have made it to the plane," Virgil said, his voice a chilling monotone.

Athena nodded slowly. "Good. Now end it."

Virgil disappeared in an instant, and almost immediately after, a sound unlike any other erupted across the fabric of existence. It was a cry—long, mournful, and filled with agony. The very essence of it rippled through soul realms, a devastating wail that carried profound sorrow and pain.

Moranda staggered, clutching his head as the sound vibrated through his skull. Across the cosmos, weaker creatures fell to the ground, coughing blood as the cry tore through their souls. Even Moranda, a devil among devils, felt its weight crush his spirit.

"What... was that?" he asked, his voice barely audible over his own racing heart.

Athena sighed deeply, as if the sound had been an inevitability. "That," she said, her voice calm but heavy with finality, "was the painful cry of a primary plane that has lost its life."

Moranda’s body went rigid as his eyes widened in horror. "You... you destroyed it?" he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. "Did you just destroy one of the nine primary Earths blessed by the One Above All?"

Athena didn’t flinch. She nodded, her face devoid of remorse, her radiant eyes still glowing faintly.

The realization hit Moranda like a physical blow. His knees almost buckled as he took a step back. "You... never wanted the plane, did you?" he asked, his voice a mixture of shock and accusation.

Athena turned her head toward him, her expression unreadable. "No. The plane was never the prize."

Moranda’s mind raced. Pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. "It was... a trap," he said slowly, his voice filled with dawning understanding. "The fallen angels—"

"—are gone," Athena interrupted. Her voice was matter-of-fact, as if she were stating something as simple as the weather. "The soul of a primary plane carries divine authority. The kind that gives even divine beings true death... too bad. The morningstar had not come for the primary plane. It would seem i overestimatedhis zeal for power." She bit inyi her teeth.

Moranda stood frozen, his thoughts reeling. The sheer scale of what she had done, the audacity of it, was beyond comprehension.

The fallen angels had been lured into a trap, their hubris and ambition leading them to a demise they could not escape. The plane’s soul had been weaponized, its destruction annihilating their very existence.

But athen had not even been after them but rather their master. And she even felt regret for not being able to kill Lucifer morningstar.

Taking over that plane had been devils hard work.morsnda had lead the six hundred and sixty five devils who were yhe cup bearers against the royal gluttony family for that plane.

They had planned for long and even taken down Arcane demons who were principalities. But of course, the power in charge was missing. Then again, it did not matter as they won.

Everyone knew the value of a primary plane. And he had thought that the hell mother wanted to crown herself with it. But he underestimated her viciousness.

What moranda did not know,was that it was all Athena’s plan.

Athena turned away, her steps deliberate as she began walking deeper into Hell. "Come, Moranda. There’s still work to be done," she said, her tone as calm as ever.

Moranda hesitated, staring at the spot where she had stood. The weight of her actions—and the consequences—hung heavy in the air. Whatever Athena was planning, it was far from over. He swallowed hard. This woman had really changed in the last hundred years.

He followed her into the infernal depths.