The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 149: Lost in the Dark

Chapter 149: Lost in the Dark

My hand trembled on Elise’s cheek, and I turned away, too weak to witness her final moments. The endless swells of darkness I had kept suppressed shattered my will, violently scouring through me. Sorrow clenched at my heart, twisting and jerking until I gasped, tears streaming down my cheeks. I had known Elise but for a few short months. I didn’t know her birthday, her favorite flower, or the members of her family. She was simply someone I had helped.

Why?

Why did it hurt so much?

I clasped a hand to my chest, sobbing. If only I had been there. If only I had been faster. If only I hadn’t stopped to help everyone in the city. If only I...I...

"This world hurts, doesn’t it."

The voice of the demon echoed in my mind, weaving through my thoughts. My hand curled into a fist, pressed tight against my breast.

"Your misery is... delicious. So much darkness. So much power!"

Its touch delved into my soul, slipping through the holes torn open by grief and pain.

"You can see it, can’t you? The hurt and suffering. The death."

My eyes fluttered, drawn open by the tantalizing voice. The city burned from the cobblestones to the ripped pennants on the towers. The illusory flames blazed brightest around the souls of the students, practically dripping from their terrified cries and tears. No, not fire. Mana. But something about is was different, reminded me of the chaotic fury in a demon’s soul, or the dragon. Infernal Mana?

"Truly a feast for the Lords," the voice continued. "I wonder how many gates could I open with this much power? Perhaps I’ll even visit this world myself."

"What more do you want?" I sobbed, sinking to my knees. "You’ve already taken her!"

"Did I? Or, perhaps, was it you?" the demon hissed. "Not that it matters, of course. Not when I can give her back to you."

That was impossible. No one could raise the dead, not even the gods. But, if it meant reclaiming Elise, what had I to lose that I hadn’t already lost? I raised my head, staring at the demon, who continued to fight Soltair and Trithe. The battle was winding down, heavily in the Sun Hero’s favor. The Curse Demon showed no sign of our conversation, but his voice was persistent.

"Think of what you could achieve with this much power. I can show you how to bring her back. Just let me in. He’s not here to stop you anymore."

The demon’s consciousness coiled around my soul, trembling eagerly as it prodded the final barrier: Adaptive Resistance. It caressed me in an intangible embrace, slowly pushing through the ability.

My mana trembled, pushing the invading presence back. The sudden absence left a hollow so deep I yearned for the demon’s touch once more.

"There’s no need to fight it. I’ll save her for you. It won’t cost you anything."

"X-Xiviyah?" Jarrod’s voice drifted through the haze. "What’s happening? What are you doing?"

I opened my eyes, startled to find an immense swell of infernal mana whirling about me. It streamed from every corner of the city, draining from the broken souls of the dead and alive alike. More mana gathered with every breath, growing so dense it condensed like the morning dew, forming thousands of miniature, formless runes. The air itself wavered, as though the entire world had been plunged underwater.

Distant screams penetrated the storm, and I glanced back to see the students forced to the ground, overwhelmed by the tremendous pressure. It surpassed anything I’d witnessed before, perhaps rivaling the presence of the gods themselves. Surely, with this much mana, I could do it. If the demon could show me the spell, I could...

My soul cracked beneath the staggering weight of mana. The pain was excruciating, greater than the time I’d burned my soul. It overwhelmed all sensation, abandoning me to the hellfire that was the infernal mana. As I panted for air, my gaze fell on Elise. Her body was blurred by my tears, but I could see the final sparks had yet to die.

The demon’s voice floated through the pain. "You’re running out of time. Another minute and your soul will look worse than hers."

My tail lashed in agony, but I struggled to my knees. I knew the demon’s power could never be free. There was always a price. But what could he take that mattered more than what I had lost?

"Save her." For two words, I traded a soul for a soul.

He was silent as my Adaptive Resistance faltered, but his cursed tendrils wasted no time squirming into my soul. They were wet and oily, like bog mud, but the unpleasant sensation was bliss compared to the piercing agony of the infernal mana.

"So much misery," he groaned, voice tempered with pleasure. "Your fear and pain are simply delectable. If only that bastard hadn’t stopped me from claiming you back then."

"The spell," I demanded, coughing up another mouthful of blood.

"You’re lucky I’m feeling so generous. Most demon lords wouldn’t think twice about consuming you before fulfilling the bargain. After all, how can the dead hold a contract?"

Scarcely before its sarcasm had faded, thousands of runes swept through my mind, burning themselves into my memory. My hands, driven by the demon’s wishes, lifted into the air. Using my soul as a conduit, the Curse Demon directed the Infernal Mana into the beginnings of a spell. I could do naught but watch as my body crafted an incredibly complex seventh-circle spell.

Trails of mana spurted from the magic circles, snaking throughout the campus and latching onto infinitesimal fragments of mana. One by one, the tentacles collected the pieces, placing them gently within Elise’s soul. The entire process took several minutes, time which nearly broke me. The strain upon my soul was beyond anything I’d experienced, but I patiently endured, sustained by the hope of the demon’s promise.

At last, the spell came to an end. But although the magic circles dissipated, the Infernal magic coursing through me hadn’t declined in the slightest. I watched anxiously as Elise’s soul pulsed faintly. A second later, her eyelids fluttered and her hand twitched.

"As promised," the demon crowed. "Now, to take care of another problem."

His presence forced into my mind once more, rifling through my memories. Chants and runes rose unbidden, disappearing just as quickly as the demon dismissed them. As he discovered Mana Storm, he stopped, breaking into maniacal laughter.

"Not that one," I pled. Panic clawed up my chest, sending a thrill of fear racing down my tail.

"You should have considered that before letting me in," the demon cackled. His voice grew strained as a massive blast of Sun Magic threatened his body. "Now move, before that idiot actually kills me."

Driven by the demon, I staggered to my feet and raised my staff. The mountain of pain shattered my concentration, yet the runes continued to flow. Seven circles appeared above the campus, radiating a pressure that eclipsed the curse the demon wove before. Tears leaked down my cheeks unchecked. A Mana Storm of this magnitude would devastate the entire city, likely killing anyone below the fifth level. Even if they survived, any mages would be permanently crippled, and even the strongest would be unable to use mana for years.

Reveling in the sheer destructive power at its command, the demon’s concentration waned. Waiting for that moment, I marshaled my remaining willpower and seized control of my soul. The demon snarled, tightening its hold and pushing me out, but that split second had been enough.

Adaptive Resistance slid around my soul, disintegrating the black tendrils clinging to my soul. "Impossible!" The Demon cried. "You’re already mine! How can you resist?"

Countless curses slammed into me, taking advantage of the enormous pressure I was under to probe for weaknesses. But, having reclaimed momentary clarity, I remained stalwart, resisting the advances at every turn.

The infernal mana was a problem. Although I had regained my agency, the spell had already begun. Severing it now would create catastrophic backlash with effects that transcended a mere Mana Storm. The demon fought against me, trying to disperse the infernal mana and disrupt the spell, but it refused to answer him and remained under my direction. I didn’t understand it, and I didn’t care. All that mattered was completing the spell before I collapsed.

The magic circles bulged, charged with the pain of an entire city. As the final runes fell into place, I waved my staff. The seven circles, which had been spread over the entire city, aligned over the Curse Demon. Their condensed pressure bore enough force to freeze the demon, Soltair, and Trithe mid-battle. The hero and his lover leaped backward, eyes bulging in shock at the incomprehensible amounts of mana. Soltair turned to me, mouth open, but before he could get a word in, the spell descended.

The circles spun in a mesmerizing dance, swelling until the entire city fell under the Mana Storm’s shadow. The remaining flags and pennants ripped free of their tethers as a deafening hum shook the sky. The storm’s core, a swirling vortex of radiant mana, exploded from the center of the array, expanding relentlessly and devouring everything in its path. Spells, enchantments, and curses withered like fragile flowers before the scorching blaze, disintegrating into nothingness. The explosion enveloped the heights of the slender towers first, rapidly descending until it swept onto our heads.

The Curse Demon screeched as it was consumed in the primary blast of the Mana Storm. Its malevolent essence convulsed, futilely attempting to resist the overwhelming tide. Demons summoned to Enusia had part of their souls bound by ritualistic mana. While this allowed them to take on physical form, it created a glaring vulnerability. No demon would leave the magic unprotected, yet no force on Enusia could resist this Mana Storm. Its soul quivered and ultimately succumbed, obliterated by the sheer magnitude of the spell, leaving nothing but echoes in its wake.

The brilliance washed over me, bathing me in the rage of infernal mana. Even as my spells were stripped away, I could feel the discordant field of chaotic mana seeping into my soul. The pain was exquisite but fell far short of the sheer agony I experienced at the bottom of the ocean of infernal mana.

Coughing, I wiped my lips, and my hand came away coated in blood. A surge of dizziness swept through me, and I tottered back a step. As I fell, the ground rose to catch me, cushioning my fall with bloodstained stones.

"Xiviyah," Soltair’s voice came from somewhere above me. "What have you done?"

His face, pale with shock and horror disappeared behind heavy eyelids. Soon, even the violent throbbing of my soul dissipated, until only the ache of grief stained my heart. But even that abandoned me as I fell into unconsciousness.

The darkness was so still, and peaceful. Drifting on the gentle currents, I felt nothing but relief. No pain, no hurt, no heroes, no demons. A small hope glimmered in the nothingness. Perhaps, the gods willing, I wouldn’t have to wake up.

Unfortunately, the gods had no interest in answering my prayers.