Extra's Revenge: Reincarnated As A Slave-Chapter 161: Devil

FSHUUU!

The atmosphere in Outpost Seventeen shifted the moment the Devil crossed the defensive perimeter.

Every ward, every detection array, every mystical alarm designed to alert the garrison to threats—all of them registered his presence simultaneously.

The readings were so overwhelming that several monitoring devices simply overloaded, their enchantments unable to process mystical pressure of such magnitude.

Amara felt it before she saw him.

A weight pressing down on reality itself, as though existence struggled to accommodate something that exceeded normal limitations.

Her triple Art affinities resonated in response, recognizing power that transcended anything she’d encountered during her Academy training.

Captain Draven’s voice came through the communication network, tight with controlled tension. "All personnel maintain positions. Category S Guards to the main lounge. This is a diplomatic reception of the utmost importance."

Amara moved with her team through the outpost’s corridors, her heart pounding despite years of disciplined training.

She’d studied Devils in her Academy courses—beings who’d broken through the Category S threshold to achieve true transcendence, whose power approached that of the legendary Archdukes themselves.

But knowing about them intellectually was vastly different from experiencing their presence directly.

The main lounge had been hastily prepared for receiving an important guest.

The outpost’s finest furniture—normally reserved for visiting Noble House representatives—had been arranged to create a reception area. Defensive enchantments had been reinforced, not as a threat but as a precaution against the Devil’s ambient mystical pressure damaging the structure through mere proximity.

The four Category S Guards took positions near the entrance, standing at attention with military precision. Captain Draven positioned himself slightly forward, representing the outpost’s command authority.

Then the Devil entered.

Amara’s breath caught despite her determination to remain composed.

He was magnificent and terrible in equal measure.

Horns curved upward from his temples, jet-black and polished to mirror sheen, their tips sharp enough to suggest lethality beyond mere decoration.

Wings extended from his back—not the feathered appendages of Aether’s Angels, but leathery constructs that seemed woven from shadow itself, their span wide enough to fill the lounge’s considerable space.

His eyes were the most disturbing feature.

Where normal beings possessed white sclera, his were absolute black, making his red irises appear to float in voids that suggested depths beyond comprehension.

He wore formal attire that would have bankrupted most Noble Houses—fabric woven with mystical threads that shimmered with enchantments, fitted perfectly to his tall frame.

Artifacts adorned every part of his outfit: rings on each finger radiating Grade 10 power, a pendant at his throat that suggested a higher classification, bracers on his wrists that pulsed with contained energy sufficient to level cities.

Even his belt appeared to be an Artifact of significant grade, and the decorative pins securing his cloak radiated mystical signatures that made Amara’s enhanced perception ache from merely observing them.

But most impressive was the weapon at his hip.

A sword whose scabbard alone carried mystical pressure that exceeded most practitioners’ entire Ether pools.

Divine-grade without question, possibly approaching the legendary Mythical tier that existed only in ancient records.

No... No, that couldn’t be!

The Devil’s mere presence made the lounge feel cramped despite its spacious design.

Reality itself seemed to bend around him, as though the laws governing normal existence recognized something that transcended their jurisdiction.

Captain Draven saluted with perfect military form.

"Lord Devil, Outpost Seventeen welcomes you. I am Captain Draven, commanding officer. How may we serve?"

The Devil’s gaze swept across the assembled Guards with casual authority, his black sclera making it impossible to determine exactly where he was focusing his attention.

When he spoke, his voice carried harmonics that suggested multiple tones overlapping simultaneously—beautiful and unsettling, commanding absolute attention through sheer presence rather than volume.

"I am Valdris Morgath, Third Circle Devil in service to Archduke Marbas. I require your cooperation for an investigation into the Labyrinth of Darkness."

The statement hung in the air, its implications staggering.

Devils didn’t simply appear at border outposts.

Their movements were coordinated through multiple layers of bureaucracy, announced weeks in advance, accompanied by extensive support personnel and formal protocols.

For one to arrive unannounced, claiming investigation authority directly from an Archduke—

This was unprecedented.

"Of course, Lord Valdris," Draven replied, maintaining professional composure despite obvious tension. "May I inquire about the nature of this investigation?"

Valdris moved deeper into the lounge, his wings folding against his back in a gesture that somehow made him appear even more imposing through the deliberate restraint it suggested.

"The Labyrinth of Darkness contains certain... arrangements. Mystical constructs placed millennia ago by forces whose purposes remain obscured by time. These arrangements are designed to trigger under specific circumstances, alerting designated authorities when particular thresholds are crossed."

He paused, allowing the Guards to process this revelation. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

"One such arrangement activated three days ago. The specifics remain unclear, but the trigger suggests movement or activity within the Labyrinth’s uncharted regions—territories that should be completely inaccessible to any entity not possessing power approaching Devil classification."

Amara’s mind raced.

Could it be—

"I conducted preliminary investigation before arriving at your outpost," Valdris continued. "Descended into the Labyrinth’s outer sections, examined the triggered arrangement’s mystical residue, attempted to trace the source of activation."

The Category S Guards exchanged glances of shock. They hadn’t detected any such investigation—their monitoring systems should have registered anyone entering the Labyrinth’s vicinity, especially someone of Devil-tier power.

But Valdris had apparently descended, investigated, and returned without triggering a single alarm.

The implication was clear: their defensive arrays, their detection capabilities, their entire monitoring infrastructure was utterly inadequate for tracking beings of his caliber.

"My preliminary findings are inconclusive," Valdris admitted, his tone suggesting frustration rather than concern.

"The arrangement’s activation could indicate several possibilities: an extremely powerful Chaos Dweller has achieved unprecedented capability, an external force has penetrated the Labyrinth from Aether territory, or—least likely but most concerning—someone from Nether society has somehow survived descent into the uncharted depths."

He turned his attention directly toward the assembled Category S Guards.

"I require a more thorough investigation. The Labyrinth’s deeper sections resist even my capabilities through environmental factors that the Ancient Gods themselves embedded millennia ago. I need local expertise familiar with the territory’s peculiarities, and I need expendable personnel who can investigate regions where my direct presence might destabilize already fragile conditions."

The word "expendable" hung in the air like a death sentence.

Sending Category S Guards into the Labyrinth of Darkness’s uncharted depths was suicide.

Everyone in the room knew it.

The explored regions killed experienced practitioners with disturbing regularity. The uncharted territories were exponentially more dangerous.

Anyone who ventured in...

... Would likely end up dead!