Devil Slave (Satan system)

Chapter 707 The Problems Of The Eighth Earth 3

?Old Meg's gesture to Gonvo was met with a swift response, the urgency of their situation palpable in the air. Gonvo approached, his hand delving into his pocket to retrieve an item of crucial importance – a map that looked as aged as the world they now inhabited. Its edges were frayed, the paper weathered and worn, a testament to its frequent use and the passage of time.

Yet, despite its fragile appearance, the map held a value beyond measure. It charted the elusive and mysterious movements of Glenn's territory, a roaming haven that promised safety and freedom from the oppressive reign of the Blood Demon.

As Gonvo unfolded the map and laid it out before Old Meg, he voiced the question that hung heavily in the air, tinged with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "Old Meg, are you sure about this? Will Glenn's territory really appear this night?"

Old Meg, feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, paused for a moment. The truth was, certainty was a luxury they could not afford in these unpredictable times. Yet, he knew that even the slightest waver in his conviction could unravel the fragile thread of hope that held them all together. He massaged his bald head, a habitual gesture when deep in thought, then mustered a smile that he hoped would instill confidence in his friend and the others.

"Of course, of course, my friend," Old Meg assured him, his voice steady. "This map shows the trajectory by which that territory moves around the globe, and once every five years, it appears for a few minutes just about a kilometer from this town. If we can make it there, then our problems will be all over. I hear that even Cuban the Blood Demon cannot touch the territory even though Glenn is no more."

Gonvo nodded, accepting Old Meg's words. The resolve in his eyes was mirrored by the rest of the group, each person clinging to the hope that this night would mark the beginning of their journey towards freedom.

As they huddled together, hands clasped in unity, Old Meg's gaze met Jasper's. In her eyes, he saw love, fear, and a fierce determination. He leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, a silent promise of a better future.

Together, they began to chant the magic words, the stone with runes glowing softly in response. The low light enveloped them, casting their figures in a shroud of shadows that whispered of escape and new beginnings.

Each heart in the group held its own wish, its own silent prayer, that this leap into the unknown would lead them to safety, to a life free from the terror that had overshadowed their existence.

As the shadows swirled around them, carrying them towards their hopeful destination, the underground hideout faded from view, a chapter closing in their lives as they stepped into the unknown, driven by the unwavering belief in a better tomorrow.

Their emergence into the cold, dusty wasteland was a harsh return to reality, their hopes dashed by the unforgiving wind that swept across the barren landscape. The night air was chilly, biting at their skin as they stood disoriented and lost. Behind them, the distant lights of the town they had escaped glimmered faintly, a reminder of the perilous life they had left behind. However, their intended destination, Glenn's territory, was nowhere in sight.

Confusion and fear mingled with rising accusations among the group, some casting doubtful glances at Old Meg, questioning the validity of his plan. But in the midst of this turmoil, Old Meg's daughter, her young eyes sharp and alert, spotted something miraculous. "Papa! Papa!!" she called out, trying to draw her father's attention, but he was too engrossed in the rising discord.

In a moment of frustration, she bit his hand, a small but desperate act to redirect his focus. Startled, Old Meg turned to her, his scold dying on his lips as she pointed excitedly into the distance. There, materializing as if conjured by magic, was the city they had sought – Glenn's territory, appearing like a mirage in the barren wasteland.

The sight of the city, emerging from thin air a mere kilometer away, rendered the group speechless. Joy erupted among them, loud cheers and screams of relief filling the night air. Old Meg, overwhelmed with emotion, embraced Jasper tightly, their years of struggle and fear momentarily forgotten in the face of this newfound hope.

"Okay, let's go there!" Old Meg exclaimed, reaching for the stone to chant the spell once more. But in an unexpected twist, the stone was snatched from his grasp. Shocked, he turned to see Gonvo, his friend, and confidant, holding the stone.

Gonvo's actions were incomprehensible, a betrayal that cut deeper than the cold night air. As he fired a flare gun into the sky, sending a bright red signal arcing overhead, Old Meg's heart sank. The flare was a beacon for demons, a call to the very creatures they were trying to escape.

"Gonvo, my friend, why did you do this? Why will you betray us like that?" Old Meg's voice was a mixture of hurt and disbelief, his words choked with emotion.

Gonvo's response was chilling, a cold, eerie laughter that echoed in the wasteland. "Have you ever heard of the statement, 'A king in hell rather than a servant in heaven'?" His words were a cold revelation, a stark confession of his willingness to betray his friends for personal gain.

Old Meg's frown deepened, the pain of betrayal etched on his face. "Gonvo, we have been close friends for many years, since we were little boys. You are even the godfather to my daughter, and now you betray us for mere riches?" His voice was laced with incredulity and sorrow, the realization that his friend, someone he had trusted implicitly, had turned against them for selfish motives.

The atmosphere was heavy with despair and betrayal, the howling wind carrying the distant sounds of approaching demons. The hope that had briefly flickered in their hearts was quickly overshadowed by the looming threat, a cruel twist of fate that left them vulnerable and exposed in the unforgiving wasteland.