The Supreme Satanic System

Chapter 396 Satanic 3.0

"Like I would comply," With disdain etched across his divine countenance, the Heretic God sneered, expertly concealing his astonishment.

  Desperation gnawed at her heart, and Silpha Naya'il cast her gaze repeatedly toward the cosmic abyss that once cradled her world. Her strength waned, and she sank to her knees, her voice a whisper of surrender, "I yield! I shall acquiesce to your every demand if only you would restore my beloved world."

This was the juncture the Heretic God had yearned for, and one would expect him to exult in her capitulation. However, a furrow etched itself upon his brow as he replied, "I regret to inform you, High Priestess."

"I shall be your devoted acolyte, I beg of you," she pleaded.

"It is not that I am unwilling, but I possess no dominion over it whatsoever. For that, I apologize," the Heretic God conceded, his smile carrying an air of discomfort. "Bear in mind, this is my maiden endeavor with the Devouring Forbidden Technique."

"What?" Silpha Naya'il exclaimed in abject terror. "Then what course should I chart?" She muttered to herself as if her sanity had been lost amidst the ruination of her planet.

The Heretic God faced a similar predicament. While he harbored no fear of consuming this portion of Sanctuary, the continued progression of the voracious black hole could summon legendary adversaries whose names existed solely in the annals of myth—a prospect he found most dreadfully ominous. Therefore, he endeavored ardently to regain control, employing his left eye, albeit to no avail.

As he pondered strategies to arrest the inexorable advance, Silpha Naya'il fixed him with a withering glare and declared, "It is the fault of that very eye. Should I obliterate it, perchance my homeland might be returned?" Without further ado, she materialized before him, her three inner fingers' talons plunging deep into his left eye.

"Ahhh-arghh!" the Heretic God cried out in agony. Beyond enduring excruciating pain, he found himself utterly immobilized. His sole recourse was submission to this inauspicious circumstance.

Just as Silpha Naya'il poised to sever his throat with her other hand, the solitary ring adorning his left eye emitted a resonant hum, aligning itself with the distant black hole. It returned, diminishing as it drew near, and in the blink of an eye, it assailed her from the rear, reducing her corporeal form to a grotesque tableau of blood and mangled flesh. Only remnants of her presence remained—a quintet of nails, the Forbidden Devil's claws—still ensnaring his left eye and its periphery. Inexplicably, a radiant sphere of light, her soul's essence, escaped the maw of the black hole, infiltrating each of the five nails. They merged seamlessly into the central nail, penetrating the very core of his cornea. "Heretic God, since you have stripped me of everything, I shall immolate my very soul to pilfer the essence of your most potent eye."

The lone ebony nail receded, projecting a spectral image of the eye as if extracting a soul from its corporeal vessel. It achieved success as the eye's essence was absorbed into the nail. The black hole drew nearer to the eye, swallowing the nail as it entered the left orb. "Aahh, my left eye!" he lamented, feeling the loss of vision from it. Strangely, the essence seemed to traverse the cosmos consumed by the black hole.

Damien felt his consciousness drawn into the nail, where he beheld the luminous soul, transmuting into Silpha Naya'il. Gradually, she removed the alabaster handkerchief concealing her countenance, revealing herself, and prompting Damien to exclaim in astonishment, "Cynthia!" The lady offered a sly smile, and he was summarily expelled, returning to his corporeal form in the tangible world.

The first thing he heard was Cynthia's mellifluous voice. "Damien, Damien…!"

"Yes, I'm here," Damien responded while gazing upon her visage within his mental sanctum.

"What happened? Oh, my stars, I nearly feared something was amiss with you when the System commenced its update."

"No cause for concern; I'm perfectly well." Yet inwardly, he pondered, 'So, the Unholy System is the nail, and somehow Silpha Naya'il is connected to Cynthia. My Third Vertical Eye is the Essence of the Heretic God's Left Eye. I must exercise utmost caution when dealing with the Omnipotent Being.' He reminded himself, understanding that the Omnipotent Being, or rather the Heretic God, coveted his Third Vertical Eye. 'I shall never unveil it again.'

As his thoughts meandered from one topic to the next, a familiar soft chime roused him from his contemplation. Chime!

[Third Revolution Successfully Updated!]

[Satanic System 3.0]

[Host Body Scanning In Progress!]

Chime!

[Host Scanning Complete!]

[Host Name: Damien Dark, AKA Bobby Bradford, AKA Loki Bradforth!] [Species: Human]

[Bone Age: 31 Earth Years]

[Primary Lineage: Devil-Slash-Satanic Bloodline; Eye God Bloodline; and Primordial Human Bloodline]

[Secondary Lineages: Vampire Bloodline, Werewolf Bloodline, Witch Bloodline, Fiery Bloodline of Chimera, and Light Elf Bloodline!]

[Energy Level: Level 431; Level 495 after Utilizing the Satanic Transformation!]

"Cynthia, I'll procure the skill you require later," he informed her, then rose from his mental realm.

"I can patiently await it," Cynthia replied, her voice serene.

After aimlessly wandering the mountaintop for an hour, Damien halted and spoke with a resounding tone. "Enough of this charade. You may emerge now—my comrade from the Shadow Hunter Association."

Apart from the customary melodies of birdsong and insect symphonies, there was no response.

"There's no merit in playing hide and seek here. Simply reveal yourself; I presume we have some matters to attend to with your clandestine Association before I depart this realm for good." He gestured toward a substantial white boulder and declared as he stifled a yawn.

The space before the boulder shimmered, and a dwarf materialized in the very spot.

The dwarf bore the visage of youth, his demeanor elegant, yet Damien understood that, contrary to appearances, he was far older than he seemed. Standing at a diminutive four feet in height, he sported a pointy green hat and a black cloak adorned with intricate yellow floral patterns, both front and rear. Completing his ensemble was a pair of long, ebony boots.

"Greetings, Mister Damien! I am Alexander, the erstwhile ruler of the Mountain Smashing Kingdom." The Dwarf extended his hand with a courteous flourish.