The Devil's Betrothed novel Chapter 800

Chapter 800: The Devil’s Arrival-II

The air turned heavy with the presence of powerful darkness. The clear sky and white clouds floating over the open throne hall visibly seemed to lose their brightness, consumed by the darkness seeping into the air.

The deities were used to seeing it, but even so, it couldn’t stop them from feeling the pressure of this immense power.

The ones from the mortal realm—the four prisoners—were experiencing this for the first time and found it overwhelming, making them wonder just what the extent of this person’s power might be. It was simply unbelievable.

Absolute darkness.

The most powerful of any power existing in the world—its presence was truly dominating.

Was Mother talking about the Devil, when she said everything will be fine when he arrives? Seren couldn’t help but wonder as she looked at her unconscious mother, then turned to Drayce, who was kneeling next to her. "The essence of power is exactly like yours."

Drayce offered a light. "That’s Him."

For the first time he was going to see that man, who was the reason of his existence.

Seren understood—Drayce’s father was here now. Morpheus and Ember understood the same.

Meanwhile, Evanthe froze in her place. As much as she was relieved that he was here and that everything would be fine, she couldn’t stop the nervousness building inside her at the thought of facing him.

Isis wore a triumphant smirk on her lips as she waited for the Devil to show up right in front of her.

Solon turned to Grianor and said, "My Sovereign, are you truly letting her have the hellfire?"

"It will go where it belongs," Grianor simply answered, then turned to look at the entrance of the throne hall.

The Majestic gates of the celestial throne hall, forged from divine starlight—groaned open not by command of the gods, but by a force far more ancient, more primal. The echo of his arrival resounded through the hall.

He stepped through.

The Devil. The Lord of Darkness.

He stood tall—taller than any deity present—with an elegance born not of grace, but of utter dominance.

His hair was jet black, sleek and set back, cascading just past his shoulders like strands of onyx spun by night itself. It framed a face too flawless to be mortal: a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and eyes—those eyes. Crimson, glowing like twin infernos, deep as the abyss—yet within them burned an ethereal calmness, as if alongside darkness there dwelled the assurance of protection.

His mere existence demanded attention—attention no one could ignore. Around him, the air pulsed with unnatural weight. It bent to him, as though the very world adjusted to his presence. Time slowed, the skies dimmed, and silence spread across the heavens—not the gentle stillness of peace, but the suffocating hush of absolute fear.

Even the divine trembled.

Not one deity dared to speak. Not one dared to move. It was not respect that stilled them—it was wariness.For this was no creature of balance or light. This was the sovereign of chaos, the wielder of forbidden power, the shadow that lingered even in a world without night.

He did not need to speak to make his power known.

He was power. Raw. Unforgiving. Absolute.

All the deities bowed to him in respect, no one dared raise their heads.

Except for Grianor, who looked at him directly, as he was the Lord of Light and held the same position as the Devil in the world of powerful beings.

’I am truly hopeless. Never stop embarrassing myself in front of him,’ she cried inside, forgetting the serious situation they were here for. What would my son and daughter-in-law think of me? As she thought, she looked at Drayce and Seren, who were looking at her, their thoughts unreadable.

Can I just hide somewhere? she thought. No. No. I have to save my people.

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