Devil Slave (Satan system)

Chapter 658  The Escape

The atmosphere at Glenn's territory was a blend of tension and anticipation as Father Black received the crucial update from a lab assistant. The whispered words brought a visible wave of relief over him, signaling a pivotal moment in their struggle. "Victor! The Core is fully charged. We are now ready to jump the entire territory to a safer location. We need you back at the territory immediately!" he relayed through the earpiece.

Victor, upon hearing the news, experienced a mix of emotions. The strategic advantage of relocating the territory was undeniable, yet his mission was not yet complete. "I haven't saved Lady Vinegar yet," he responded, his voice laced with determination and a sense of unfinished duty.

Father Black's frown mirrored the complexity of the situation. His feelings towards Lady Vinegar were conflicted; she was a demon, yet she had proved herself an ally in the most challenging of times. Her actions during the battle of the Great Realm demons and her sacrifices in the current battle weighed heavily on his conscience. It was a moral dilemma, pitting strategy against gratitude, duty against honor.

After a moment of internal struggle, Father Black made his decision, his voice firm yet conveying the gravity of the situation. "Do what you must. But ensure that you get back here in exactly one minute, no more and no less. We will make the territory jump immediately!"

Victor, understanding the strict time constraint, nodded, even though Father Black couldn't see it. He gathered his resolve, and once more, cosmic energy surged into him. It crackled around his body like lightning, a visible testament to the immense power he wielded. The energy illuminated him, casting an otherworldly glow that contrasted starkly with the grim surroundings of the battlefield.

With the clock ticking, Victor moved with a purpose that was almost palpable. Every second counted, and his movements were a blur of speed and precision. His mind was focused on a singular objective – to rescue Lady Vinegar and return to the territory within the non-negotiable one-minute window.

The battlefield, still teeming with undead creatures and the looming presence of the primordial beast, seemed to slow in comparison to Victor's swift actions. His figure darted through the chaos, a streak of cosmic energy moving with an urgency that was both desperate and determined.

Back at Glenn's territory, all eyes were glued to the monitors, the tension escalating with each passing second. The fate of their territory, and perhaps the outcome of the entire conflict, hinged on these critical moments. As the countdown began, the collective breath of those watching was held in suspense, their hopes and fears resting on the shoulders of Victor, their champion in this harrowing struggle for survival and salvation.

As Victor faced the primordial beast, a sense of resolve and disdain echoed in his words. "I can't believe that my people once worshipped you as a god. What a freaking joke!" His chuckle, laced with a mix of scorn and adrenaline, reverberated through the battlefield as he activated his movement technique.

*NIGHT DANCE!*

In an instant, Victor's movements became ethereal, as if he were gliding on air itself. He navigated through the onslaught of tentacles with a dancer's grace and a warrior's precision. Despite the traces of blood that fell from his lips – a stark reminder of his injuries – his focus remained unshaken. He pressed on, driven by a force that went beyond physical limitations.

His obsidian blades were a blur, slicing through the tentacles that barred his path. Each swipe was a lethal dance, cutting through the beast's appendages with ruthless efficiency.

Finally, he reached his destination. With a swift motion, he unleashed a rain of obsidian blades towards the undead commander, creating a momentary diversion. Seizing the opportunity, he scooped up Lady Vinegar, her limbless form making it tragically easy to lift her onto his shoulder.

As Victor turned to make his way back to the city, his eyes caught sight of a crash site, a grim reminder of the earlier attack. There, amidst the wreckage, he saw the giant chimera ants engaged in a frantic rescue operation. One of the ants struggled to lift a boulder that had crushed someone beneath it. Victor's sharp gaze discerned the identity of the trapped individual – it was Nikky.

Without hesitation, he altered his course, rushing towards her. His hand moved in a swift arc, shattering the boulder with a burst of cosmic energy. The sight that met his eyes was heart-wrenching – Nikky's lower body was utterly crushed, and her eyes were devoid of life. Yet, Victor knew that as a Ghoul, there was still hope for her if he could get her back to the territory in time.

Understanding the gravity of the situation and knowing how much it would mean to Scarface, he carefully lifted Nikky onto his other shoulder, balancing her alongside Lady Vinegar. Time was of the essence; every second mattered now more than ever.

With both Lady Vinegar and Nikky in his care, Victor surged forward with renewed urgency. His strides were a testament to his strength and will, carrying the weight of his injured companions and the hopes of his people. The path back to the city was fraught with danger and obstacles, but Victor moved with a single-minded purpose, driven by the knowledge that the lives he carried and the future of their territory depended on his swift return.

Clawed, the once formidable captain of the undead commander, reduced to a limbless state by Victor, lay defeated on the battlefield. Yet, the battle was far from over for him. In a macabre display of the undead's unnatural resilience, his severed limbs began to move of their own accord, inching their way back towards their owner. Slowly but surely, they reattached themselves to Clawed's body, reanimating him in a grotesque semblance of recovery.

Once whole again, Clawed fixed his gaze on Victor's retreating figure, a burning desire for retribution evident in his stance. His hand, now suffused with a sinister purple cosmic energy, was raised, ready to unleash a devastating attack on Victor, who was burdened with the injured and vulnerable Lady Vinegar and Nikky.

However, before Clawed could release his vengeful strike, the undead commander intervened. "No! Let them go. It is all according to plan," he commanded, his voice carrying an eerie calmness that contrasted with the chaos of the battlefield.

The commander's face then contorted into a chilling smile, revealing a set of uneven, jagged teeth. This smile was not one of defeat or resignation but rather indicated a deeper, more sinister strategy at play. It was a smile that hinted at a plan unfolding as intended, a scheme that extended beyond the immediate skirmish and into the broader tapestry of the war.

Clawed, despite his burning desire for revenge, obeyed the command. His raised hand lowered, and the purple energy dissipated, a sign of his begrudging compliance.