Devil Slave (Satan system)

Whether it was true or not, only those that managed to persevere and struggle out of the embrace of eternal rest could give testimony on the subject.

One such person was Lenny.

The Title of Soul Master allowed him to summon the souls of those he had killed to join him in battle. However, right now, he was improvising. 

Those souls were now his lunch. 

The idea of summoning souls was not exactly an easy one. 

After all, to summon them required magic points, and to control them even more magic points.

However, he did it anyway.

When it came to acquiring Magic points, Lenny had racked up quite a lot. Adding to the fact that he barely used any since he entered this place because he was hiding his White Flame, he had a lot of it to spare.

However, his Magic points, plenty as they were fell like over ripe fruits from a tall tree during a winter storm. 

He summoned them all the way from the first level.

The Lot of them were disgruntled souls. 

Vexed by the unwilling death they were made to bear by his hands. 

Yet, they could not refuse the summons. 

However, this did not mean that they would willingly give up their essence to the one that gifted them their mortality.

Since they could only obey, the worse they could do, which was the only thing they could do, was give him the same brunt of pain he awarded them at the point of death.

For the Process to work, the Satan system had advised that Lenny stopped all other techniques. 

Of course, this included his Pleasure and Pain technique.

This meant that the pain from earlier was part of the burden he was to carry. 

First was the pain from his body, and the second was the pain from his soul. 

For Lenny, mere words were lacking in all vocabulary to describe in detail the vandalization of his senses as the crushing weight of pain flooded his mind.

This pain in body and soul. 

It left him nearly begging for the release of everlasting slumber.

It was like getting crushed under a heavy boulder the size of the highest of mountains but still granted life. 

Never before had he felt the Kindred spirit of regret that plagued the damned in hell. 

Regret so primal that his soul rained curses on his mother\'s womb for his existence. 

He cursed the night her legs parted to the invitation of his father.

If curses could instantly take effect, then that day back in time would be filled with a thunderstorm that would crush the room his parents mated to form him.

If he could move his body, his lungs and throat would be hoarse with the loud expression of his pain. But he could not. His body was still immobile.

Lenny had killed many.

For some, the death had been swift.

For others, it had not.

But no one right now knew better the detailed description to Phrase: There are some things in life worse than death.

Every soul dished him a plate full of the Zealot death he dealt them. 

The higher and stronger the level, class or rank of the gladiator, the more excruciating the process. 

Did he regret killing them? 

No, not in the slightest. At least not while he did. 

But right now, he was almost at the point of begging for repentance of his sins. 

Yet, just at that point when he might have nearly wanted to make peace with \'PEACE\', it kicked in.

That inbuilt stubbornness, so deep it was practically the blood that nourished his body suddenly took hold of his mind. 

Beating at his pride that had been honed for a very long time from the deep Callouses he placed on not just his body, but his mind. 

Callouses so engraving that they also took hold in his soul. 

A new kind of stubborn pride was born.

After all, tough times make tough men, and even tougher times made Prouder men. 

What was the glory of a man\'s existence if he was lacking in the foundational masculinity gifted only through gashing struggle? 

All of a sudden, his perspective on life changed yet again. 

His soul no longer screamed in anguish. 

No, now it welcomed it.

Like the smiling face of a loving wife welcoming her husband home after a long day of work.

  An embrace, a kiss on the lips and the welcome of warm food on the table. 

Such was the wide Welcome of their every pain.

From the lowest and meekest of gladiators to the really proud ones like Decay, he took it all. 

In the first-hand experience of their pain, he discovered something new. 

Something that even the Monastery for Pain and Pleasure did not teach. 

Pain was not just the presence of life, it was also the absence of it.

Things had totally changed. 

If he could move right now, he would no longer Scream in hurt. 

No, he would dance and sing. 

Holding the hands of the Entity of Pain and showering her with smiles.

He would thank her for sending her children his way.

He would thank her for sending the glorious affection of hurt his way. 

After all, he was now a most dutiful student. 

Never in his life had he felt so much need to spread what he had just discovered. 

It was like a Preacher that had witnessed a miracle and wanted the world to know about it. 

He wanted to spread the good news of fervent hurt to the rest of the world. 

It was at this moment that Lenny was awarded yet another Title: The Harbinger of Pain.

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