Devil's Eye Reborn - Shadow Angel Awakens - Chapter 69

Chapter 69: Chapter 67: Rofocal shows up
 

The dark, shadowy figure inside the box continuously shook my soul.

Although I had never seen my transformed Satanic form, the deep, resonant echo within my heart told me that the corpse before me was indeed my form as Satan.

And this corpse was undoubtedly my previous incarnation.

The former Satan.

I closely examined the corpse and noticed a fist-sized wound on its chest, with the heart long gone. This confirmed what Rahab had said: Satan had been killed by Samael, who had ripped out his heart.

Though Satan had been dead for over two thousand years, his body was remarkably intact, except for the hollow eye sockets and the wound on his chest. It seemed Samael had not forgotten his old master and had preserved the corpse well.

Satan’s expression was solemn. Though his body was dark and lifeless, his muscles were slightly bulging, full of vitality.

His tall stature, clenched fists, and captivating appearance, combined with his completely dark skin, conveyed a powerful presence. Just looking at this corpse made one feel that Satan was still alive and could break out of the box at any moment to overthrow the world.

When would I be able to possess such overwhelming aura?

As I was about to become lost in thought, Yan’er’s voice suddenly whispered behind me, “Big Brother.”

I turned to see everyone standing at the chamber entrance, all stunned by the sight of the numerous Devil eye.

“You all came,” I nodded, motioning for them to come in.

“Yes, we were drawn in by the red light, but we didn’t expect it to be the evil glow of Devil eye,” Yang Jian said, frowning as he looked at the Devil eye in the honeycomb iron cabinets. “This quantity must include most of the existing Devil eye.”

I asked, “Did you find them?”

Yang Jian shook his head and said, “No, Daji and my third brother are not outside.”

“Oh my, what kind of conspiracy is the Satan’s Cult plotting by collecting so many Devil eye?” Yan’er said, her face full of disbelief as she walked around, looking everywhere.

But when her gaze fell on my side, her eyes widened in shock, and she pointed at the black corpse behind me, exclaiming, “Big Brother, who is that behind you?”

Everyone turned to look and was stunned by the imposing presence of Satan from two thousand years ago, their faces filled with astonishment.

“Isn’t that Satan?” Yang Jian, who had lived for thousands of years and had deeper cultivation, was the first to regain his composure, though his voice was still filled with excitement.

I looked at him and asked, “This is his corpse. Erlang God recognizes him?”

Yang Jian nodded slightly, his face showing rare respect. “I have followed my foster father for thousands of years and once closely guarded Satan with him. Satan’s majestic presence is unparalleled; how could I mistake him?”

Yang Jian then spoke to the Howling Sky Dog, “Little Howling, this scent unmistakably belongs to Satan, doesn’t it?”

The Howling Sky Dog walked up, sniffed, and barked, seemingly confirming that this was indeed Satan’s corpse.

“After Satan was killed, his body disappeared. I didn’t expect Samael to hide it here,” Yang Jian said, walking up beside me and looking at Satan in the box. He sighed, “My foster father has always been troubled by not seeing Satan one last time. But whether seeing Satan’s remains would be good or bad, I do not know.”

The Howling Sky Dog, sensing Yang Jian’s emotions, rubbed its head against his leg in a comforting gesture.

“Good or bad, it would at least fulfill a wish,” I said, lightly tapping the glass box. From the sound, the box didn’t seem very sturdy. I then said to Yang Jian, “Let’s take Satan’s body with us.”

I suggested this not only to improve my relationship with Cerberus but also to investigate the mystery behind Satan’s reincarnation.

So far, even Rahab didn’t fully understand Satan’s reincarnation. Questions like why both the Iron Mask Man and I were Satan’s reincarnations, and who my biological parents were, remained unanswered.

Though I didn’t know if Satan’s corpse would have any tangible impact on our struggle, it might hold some clues.

Given Cerberus’s reverence for Satan, Yang Jian had no reason to refuse.

Sure enough, after thinking for a moment, Yang Jian nodded and agreed, “Alright, this will not only strike a blow to the Satan’s Cult but also fulfill my foster father’s wish.”

“Then we’ll need the Japanese swordsman’s help,” I said, turning to Miyamoto Musashi with a smile. “To avoid damaging Satan’s remains, could you cut out the entire glass box?”

Miyamoto Musashi responded with a cold snort and walked up to the glass box. He squatted down and felt around, seemingly gauging the thickness of the connection between the box and the ground.

After a moment, he stood up, raised his hand behind him, and gestured for us to step back. We followed his instructions and took a few steps back.

Miyamoto Musashi lightly gripped the hilt of his katana, closed his eyes, and focused, preparing to strike.

But just as he was about to draw his sword, a heavy sound came from the left glass box.

“Bang, Bang.”

Something seemed to be bumping against the box from under the black cloth.

“Who’s there?” Miyamoto Musashi, reacting swiftly, leaped aside and drew his long sword, pointing it at the box. But there was no response from inside.

Only the rhythmic banging continued.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

“Scoundrel!” Miyamoto Musashi shouted angrily, raising his long sword high and slashing at the box from a distance.

The black cloth covering the box was instantly shredded into countless pieces by Miyamoto Musashi’s sword energy, revealing the situation inside.

Inside the glass box, a man knelt on the ground, missing both hands, continuously banging his head against the box!

In the red light of the chamber, I saw that it was a long-haired man in tattered clothes.

The man appeared to be in his forties, unremarkable in appearance. Though his eyes were tightly closed, his face was haggard, and his expression was surprisingly calm, as if being trapped in the box was not a painful ordeal.

The strangest thing about this man was that his eyelids were sunken, unlike a normal person’s slightly protruding eyelids, indicating his eyeballs had been removed.

This suggested he might be a demon, and his empty eye sockets could be due to his Devil eye being taken.

But who was he? And what had he done to be imprisoned in this chamber?

As I stared at the man, pondering, Yang Jian suddenly asked in surprise, “Are you Rofocal?”

“What?” I looked at Yang Jian in disbelief, shocked.

Rofocal was one of the seven existing demon lords, possessing the “Puppeteer’s Eye” that could control others.

He had always been in Samael’s camp and was an accomplice in Satan’s death.

But for some reason, his demonic eye ended up with the current Satan’s Cult leader, the Iron Mask Man. Now he was imprisoned in this underground chamber, suggesting there was a story behind it.

At that moment, the banging sound stopped. The man in the box had heard Yang Jian’s words and ceased his actions. After a moment, he slowly nodded.

“You’re really Rofocal!” Although Yang Jian had already guessed the man’s identity, seeing him personally confirm it still left him astonished.

“Yang Jian, are you sure he is Rofocal?” I asked, frowning at the man in the box.

“Yes, I am sure. I have known him for a long time. Though it has been many years and his appearance has become thin and haggard, it is indeed him,” Yang Jian said, walking up to the glass box. “Rofocal, how did you end up imprisoned here?”

Rofocal heard us but didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted his head and opened his mouth wide towards us.

To our shock, we saw that Rofocal’s mouth was empty; his tongue had been cut off at the root. No wonder he had remained silent and had to use his head to bang on the box to make noise and attract our attention.

“Wasn’t Rofocal always by Samael’s side? He should have been an important figure in the Satan’s Cult. How did he end up imprisoned here, subjected to such a brutal punishment?” I whispered to Yang Jian.

“I don’t know the details, but Samael is known for his capricious nature. Even those who please him can face a grim fate if they displease him in any way. Perhaps Rofocal offended him and was locked in this box to suffer,” Yang Jian whispered back, frowning as he looked at Rofocal. He then asked loudly, “Was it Samael who imprisoned you in this glass box?” To our surprise, Rofocal shook his head.

Yang Jian was taken aback. “That’s strange.”

I looked at Rofocal, deep in thought, then asked loudly, “Was it the new leader of your Satan’s Cult, the one who always wears the ‘Mirror’ mask, who gouged out your eyes, cut off your tongue, and locked you here?”