The Supreme Satanic System

“Thank you, big brother,” Peoni Brightflight said, her voice filled with gratitude. Damien patted her head, looking at the large carcass floating on the lake.

Later, Damien collected the corpse and placed it on the ground. Just as he was about to put it in his Purple Spatial Beast’s Eyeball, Peoni stopped him. “Wait a sec!” she said. Without hesitation, she leaped into the air and landed on the corpse’s head. She zapped her fingers with a crimson flame and extracted a transparent, rounded ball from its forehead. Then she tossed it into her mouth and swallowed it down. “Ahh! It’s so sweet,” she moaned.

“Are you done with the cadaver? Can I put it inside, Peoni?” asked Damien.

“Sure!” Peoni yawned. “I’m exhausted. Take me to my cozy nest. And next time, make sure to wake me up for a challenging battle.” Then she fell onto the grass and started snoring.

“Hahaha, this kid has such an interesting personality. And on top of that, she’s cute!” Cynthia’s laughter echoed in Damien’s head.

“Yeah, she is,” Damien said. Infusing a trace of lightning Chi into his Purple Spatial Beast’s Eyeball, he waved his hand, putting the gigantic dragon’s corpse and Peoni Brightflight inside it.

“What now? Are you going to continue this dragon-hunting adventure?” Cynthia asked, yawning as if her previous yawn was contagious.

“What’s with all this yawning?” Damien said, yawning. “Damn it! You’re making me yawn too.” Following a peal of hearty laughter from Cynthia, Damien reached into his pocket, pulled out his AI Pod, and spoke, “Lucia, bring my ship down here.”

“Certainly, Master Damien!” the A.I. Pod responded in Morgan Freeman’s exact voice. “I’m bringing it down now.”

In the next instant, a sleek aircraft landed on the grassland beside the lake. The Dwarf Prince disembarked from the aircraft and approached Damien. “Master, where is the little dragon? Can she transform into human form?” he asked, bombarding Damien with questions.

“Argh! Enough with your stupid questions. Get your ass inside, or I’ll leave you here,” Damien said, irritated, as he walked into the aircraft. 𝑂𝒱𝓵xt.𝐂𝑜𝗆

The Dwarf Prince quickly followed Damien into the ship, looking a little embarrassed. Once they were inside, Damien instructed the AI to take off and head back.

After making their way to drive the sleek aircraft, Damien and the Dwarf Prince arrived at the waterfall where they had entered. Hidden at the bottom of the waterfall was the entrance that led them back to the world above. They exited the tunnels and made their way to the sleek aircraft, taking off and soaring through the skies until they reached the military border camp. It had been scorched black by the powerful lightning-based attack that Damien had unleashed a few hours ago.

For three days, Damien and Prince Zokaka lounged about the camp, leisurely cooking slices of succulent dragon meat and experimenting with various cooking techniques. Damien took it upon himself to teach the inquisitive Dwarf Prince the art of barbecuing, but eventually relinquished the cooking duties to his apprentice.

To Damien’s surprise, the Dwarf Prince produced ten bottles of exotic beer and wine from the charred remains of the camp’s tents and presented them to him. They whiled away the time, waiting for the minister to return from the palace, but on the third day, the minister failed to make an appearance, despite Zokaka’s assurances. It was clear that Prince Zokaka was being underestimated.

The following morning, they heard the sound of horses approaching from afar. “They’re here. Zokaka, are you ready for your part?” Damien asked, staring intently at the dwarf. Zokaka nodded subserviently. “Yes, milord.”

As the three horses drew closer, Damien asked Zokaka, “Do you know them?”

“Of course,” Zokaka replied. “The older gentleman with the gray-white hair and white beard is the seventh elder, and those two are his disciples.”

As the three dwarves approached, they remained mounted and observed the situation without acknowledging Damien or the prince.

Following his master’s orders, Prince Zokaka approached them. “Elder Paakan, why haven’t you greeted the prince yet? Are you looking for trouble?” he yelled.

The two disciples turned around, loading their pistols and aiming them at Damien and Zokaka.

“Well, well, well. A month here has clearly toughened the seventh prince, but it’s worthless if he doesn’t have the guts to face us directly,” one disciple threatened.

“Your status means nothing to us,” the other disciple added. “And there’s no one around to witness your pitiful attempts at intimidation.”

Enraged, Zokaka ignited his titan bloodline and appeared in front of one disciple, aiming for his head. But Minister Paakan was faster, blocking Zokaka’s punch with his shield. With a loud bang, the shield crumbled into iron shards and fell to the ground.

Paakan looked at the prince, his expression changing. “His single punch could destroy my Protector Shield, infused with my Origin Chi. If I hadn’t reacted with my gut feeling earlier, my disciple Pebble’s head would have exploded. The seventh prince has truly changed,” he thought, glancing over at Damien wearing the Shinigami mask. “No, it must be because of this giant.” Paakan had seen the dragon’s cadaver far inside the camp.

Ignoring the danger, Disciple Grumbie shouted, “Master, the boy has lost his mind. Let me put a bullet in his head and end his miserable life.” He raised his pistol, but Elder Paakan reacted quickly, kicking Grumbie in the chest and causing the pistol to misfire.

As Grumbie lay on the ground, he asked with ignorance, “Did I do something wrong, master?”

“Shut up if you want to live,” Paakan replied, turning to his other disciple. “Put your pistol away, Pebble.”

Damien dismounted his horse and knelt before Prince Zokaka. “Greetings, Your Highness. Please accept my humble salute.” He saluted by crossing his arms and hitting his left arm with his right palm, the greatest honorable salute.

Prince Zokaka snorted, still unhappy with their earlier behavior.

“What are you waiting for? Get on your knees and join me,” Minister Paakan shouted.

Damien’s two disciples didn’t understand their situation, but they followed their master’s words and knelt before the prince. “Your Highness, the Seventh Prince, good day, sire,” they greeted.

“No, you must kowtow and ask for his mercy,” Paakan insisted.

“Master, do we really have to kowtow before this useless prince?” one disciple asked.