Devil Slave (Satan system)

Chapter 677 The Next Death

The primordial beast, reared before the shimmering shield of light that protected Glenn's territory. With a mighty roar, it unleashed a blast of cosmic energy, far more powerful than any it had cast before. The inhabitants of the territory watched in horror as the shield, their last line of defense, began to fracture.

The shield, a dome of radiant light that had stood as a beacon of safety, now shuddered under the beast's assault. Cracks spread across its surface like spiderwebs, each line glowing ominously as if filled with the beast's malevolent energy. The once-steady hum of the shield's power turned into a high-pitched whine, a sound of distress as it struggled to hold against the onslaught.

Then, with a sound like the world itself breaking, the shield shattered. Pieces of the light barrier cascaded down like glass shards from a smashed window, each fragment winking out of existence before it could touch the ground. The inhabitants of the territory, their faces a mix of shock and despair, could only watch as their sanctuary was laid bare to the horrors outside.

At that same catastrophic moment, the core, the heart of their territory and the source of the shield, exploded. The blast was deafening, a bright flare of destructive energy that erupted from the center of the settlement. 

Buildings near the core were obliterated, reduced to rubble in an instant. The force of the explosion rippled outwards, knocking people off their feet and sending a cloud of dust and debris into the air.

The faces of the people were canvases of shock and grief. Eyes wide with disbelief, mouths agape in silent screams, they were the very picture of a community facing its darkest moment. The destruction of the shield and core was not just a physical blow; it was the shattering of hope, the realization that their haven was no more.

Almost immediately, the Undead Commander, perched atop his grotesque mount, raised his hand in a silent command. The undead army, a horde of relentless hunger and decay, surged forward at his signal. The ground shook with their advance, a tide of death and destruction rushing towards the now-exposed territory.

Among the ranks of the undead were giant worm-like creatures, their bodies writhing and covered in a grotesque parody of armor. They burrowed through the ground, undermining structures and causing chaos. Crab-like monstrosities, their pincers clicking and their carapaces clattering, scuttled forward, crushing anything in their path.

The people of the territory, reeling from the loss of their shield and core, scrambled to defend themselves. Some fought back with whatever weapons they could find, while others sought to flee, to find any refuge from the approaching doom. But the undead were many, and the territory was thrown into disarray.

The sounds of the ensuing battle were a cacophony of despair. The clash of arms, the screams of the fallen, the inhuman groans of the undead – all these formed a chorus of destruction. Buildings crumbled under the assault, streets became battlegrounds, and the air was filled with the scent of smoke and the coppery tang of blood.

In the midst of the chaos, Father Black, his face a mask of determination amid the devastation, tried to rally his people. He shouted orders, directed fighters, and aided the wounded. But the tide of the undead seemed endless, and with each passing moment, the situation grew more dire.

As the battle raged, the territory that had once been a haven of safety and community was transformed into a landscape of ruin and despair. The people, who had once looked to the future with hope, now fought for their very survival against an enemy that seemed invincible. And above them, the sky, once held at bay by the shield of light, loomed large and ominous, a witness to the tragedy unfolding below.

Insect-B, standing amidst the chaos and destruction, knew it was time for her and her insect to take a stand. With a resolute expression, she summoned her vast swarm of insects. Giant Crawling and flying creatures of all shapes and sizes responded to her call, a living tide of chitin and mandibles ready to defend their home.

The air buzzed with the sound of a million wings as the flying insects swooped down on the undead, while the ground teemed with crawling ones that surged forward. 

They descended upon the undead with a relentless fury, biting, stinging, and tearing. The larger insects tackled the bigger threats, their pincers and mandibles working to rip the undead to bits and pieces. For a moment, it seemed as though their sheer numbers and ferocity would turn the tide.

However, the undead were an overwhelming force. For every one that fell, it seemed two took its place. The insects fought valiantly, but the sheer scale of the enemy was daunting. Insect-B directed her swarm with precision and courage, but she could see that their efforts, while valiant, were not enough to stem the relentless tide of the undead.

Meanwhile, Perseus, Victor and Crusher, formidable fighters, rushed into the fray. Crusher, wielding a massive hammer, barreled into the undead with the force of a raging storm. 

Each swing of his weapon sent the undead flying, his strength a beacon of hope in the dark tide of battle. Beside him, Victor, charged with cosmic energy, was a whirlwind of destruction. He moved with a speed and grace that belied his power, each strike of his energy tearing through the ranks of the undead.

And Perseus, not being left behind, also rushed in with his electricity as he blazed with his darkline power.

Father Black, not content to simply command from the sidelines, unleashed his pack of wild dogs into the battle. The dogs, fierce and loyal, darted in and out of the undead, their teeth sinking into flesh and bone. Father Black directed them with a series of sharp commands, his presence on the battlefield a rallying point for the defenders.

Together, they fought as fiercely as they could, a united front against the darkness. The clash of the battle was intense, the sounds of combat filling the air. The defenders of the territory, despite their courage and strength, found themselves pushed back, step by step, as the undead continued their relentless advance.

The battle was a maelstrom of chaos and courage, each fighter giving their all to protect what was dear to them. But as the undead pressed on, it became clear that the fight was taking its toll. Insect-B's insects, despite their numbers, were dwindling; Crusher's hammer swings were becoming slower with fatigue; Victor's cosmic energy was less focused; and Father Black's dogs were tiring from their continuous assaults.

And then it happened. A Crab like beast rushed at Perseus and in one fell swoop, ate his head...