The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 756: Futility

Chapter 756: Futility

Luke’s eyes widened as the demon finished his spell. He turned, jerking his hand toward me. "Run!"

I stood my ground, meeting his eyes, my gaze unwavering. His expression paled.

"No! Xiviyah, listen to me! You can’t face this one. It’ll crush your soul!" he cried.

Endless darkness poured out of the magic circles, washing against the dome erected by the isolation barrier. It was only a few inches deep, like mist on the ground, yet it rapidly began to rise, filling the barrier like water poured into a fishbowl. It was startling cold, sucking the warmth from my bones, but didn’t actually block vision. I gasped as it covered my chest and head, constricting my lungs with its chill.

"Damn it all, why are you so stubborn?" Luke growled, turning to face the demon lord.

Rash’alon gazed at us, red eyes seeming amused. "You act as if there’s anywhere to run. Unless you managed to defeat me, the slave will never escape this cage. And I’m afraid the opportunity to do that just ended."

The demon raised its hand again, fingers closing in a fist. Chains made of pure darkness erupted from the ground, lashing at us like whips. I bit my tongue, holding back a scream, as they caught my wrists, pulling them taught, bringing me to my knees. More chains caught me fast, securing my arms, legs, waist, and even neck. They were cold and hard, like unforgiving steel. My heart skipped a beat, my throat closing up as the one around my neck tightened like one of Lord Byron’s collars.

Luke shouted and raged as he resisted the chains that came for him, using his sword, fists, and even feet to tear them apart. But more came, an endless tide of dull black steel. The effect became apparent immediately, as Luke’s aura abruptly plummeted, falling an entire level.

The chains tightened their grip, starting to siphon the strength from my body and soul. I squirmed and took a shallow breath, drawing on Adaptive Resistance. An eighth-level curse, not something I’d ever overcome, nor something I should be able to. And yet, the power hummed in my chest, warm like the summer sun.

Rash’alon’s sword flashed, slicing into Luke. He twisted his body, screaming as the blade cut into his shoulder. The blood that spewed out was black.

"No," I whispered, drawing more and more starlight from my soul. "I won’t let you!"

Adaptive Resistance spilled over, spreading in a golden mist around me again, melting the chains from my flesh. Rash’alon stiffened, glancing at me. His gaze wavered for just a moment, but it was enough for Luke. Even as my power spread into his body, he lunged forward, tearing the weakening chains and planting his sword in the demon’s stomach. The blade emerged from the other side, releasing a shockwave of golden light. The light pushed back the shadows, creating a small bubble around us clear of even the isolation barrier’s influence.

"Impossible," Rash’alon gasped.

The demon’s hand rose, shaking, clutching at Luke’s throat. Luke kicked him, sending him tumbling off his blade. Golden light leaked from the wound, slowly spreading like sunpurge across the demon’s flesh.

"I won’t be defeated. Not when fate’s so close," Rash’alon said.

Tendrils erupted from his back, weaving together into misshapen wings. They flared out, catching an invisible breeze and taking him to the edge of the shadowy dome. I doubled over, panting for breath, as the friction of Adaptive Resistance warned past the point I could stand.

It was absorbing too much mana too quickly. The strands of fate couldn’t handle any more, so it overflowed into my aura, spreading the starry mist further. A low thrum shook me to the core, setting my teeth on edge. Visions flickered in the light, a kaleidoscope of chaotic glimpses of past and future.

Rash’alon hovered at the edge of the isolation barrier, looking over his shoulder at me. Luke stood almost twenty feet away, hand on his chest. His face was white, his body trembling. He seemed to have forgotten the demon, assuming he’d already fled.

My breath caught as Rash’alon’s eyes narrowed, darting to Luke’s quivering frame, then to me. His lips curled in a grin, and he vanished, moving too quickly for my weary eyes to track. One moment he was in the sky, the next he filled my vision, hand outstretched toward me. His claws exploded with mana, shattering my wards like they were glass, grasping for my throat.

"You’re mine," he crowed.

I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn’t work. I didn’t know if I had air in my lungs. All I could see were two malevolent red eyes, triumphantly burning with unholy light. My heart beat its last, and I braced myself, waiting for his hand to close around my throat.

There was a blur of gold and a flash of mana. Rash’alon screeched, recoiling as his hand separated from his wrist, dissipating into nothingness. Golden light crawled up the stump, preventing it from regenerating.

A rough hand jerked me back. I looked up, eyes wide, to see Luke standing between us, a vicious smile on his face. He grabbed the staggered demon by the neck, pulling it towards him. His sword darted forward, plunging into its chest. Rash’alon clawed at him with his remaining hands, leaving three deep gouges in Luke’s cheek, but his grip never faltered.

"I told you," Luke whispered, slowly twisting the blade until it was horizontal. "Xiviyah isn’t yours to claim."

"You...how could you..." Rash’alon’s voice was raspy with panic.

Luke’s grip on his neck tightened. Golden light bled from his fingers, infecting the demon’s shadowy flesh.

"Did you really think I would let you close to my star?" he asked softly.

Rash’alon kicked in his grip, but his power waned, drained by the golden light. His claws scrabbled at Luke’s chest, but failed to penetrate his armor. "I’m a demon lord. Do you think this treachery will go unanswered in the infernal realms?"

Luke grimaced, taking a short, shallow breath. "You could have escaped if you wished. But I knew you wouldn’t. I even told you I wouldn’t fight fair, yet you couldn’t stop yourself. To think, a hundred years of well-laid plans brought to ruin because greed blinded your cunning."

"Fate will be mine. You can’t kill me, merely delay my plans," the demon spat.

"Thrice you’ve tried to claim her, and thrice you’ve failed. Rot in hell, knowing you’ll never have a chance to hurt her again."

His muscles tensed, overflowing with mana. He swept his sword out, cutting through Rash’alon’s torso and arm, partially bisecting the demon. Rash’alon screeched in agony, but Luke wasn’t finished. His sword whipped back, taking the demon’s head from its shoulders. Its eyes bulged, its scream cutting off as the head disintegrated before it hit the ground.

Luke dropped the mangled corpse, kicking it in disgust. It broke apart into black particles, swirling with shadows of the isolation barrier. The weight on my soul lessened as the barrier, too, broke apart, no longer sustained by the demon’s soul.

"Xiviyah, are you alright?" Luke asked, turning toward me. His hand, the same that had crushed a demon lord, rose toward me, brushing my cheek. I flinched, and he jerked away.

"I-I’m alright," I stammered. "Just...cold."

"Good. I was so worried..." he mumbled, sinking to the ground.

"Luke?" My voice broke with panic.

I grabbed him, but his weight pulled me down with him. I hugged him tightly, cradling his head against my chest.

"Luke, speak to me."

His eyelids fluttered, his presence growing weak. I tore at his armor and cloak, baring his chest. It was so hot it scorched my hand, rising faintly with every breath. My stomach twisted with dread. Thick vein-like scars, dyed black and twisting like gnarled roots, scrawled across his flesh, spread well beyond the corruption I’d seen before. There were traces of it on his arms and legs, wrapping around his neck and scourging his back. Corruption, far worse than anything Levin had suffered. It penetrated his soul. Every second must have been agony, every breath searing his entire body.

Tears blurred my vision as the full weight of the corruption crashed over me.

He lied. It wasn’t an act meant to lull Rash’alon to complacency, yet the final, desperate gambit of a man who knew he was already dead. How had I missed this? Or rather, how had he managed to hide it? No wonder Rash’alon hadn’t been worried about him. He must have been in so much pain...and all to protect me?

"Xiv...Xiviyah..." he said finally, and his eyelids struggled open. His eyes were hazy, clouded with pain. I could see my tear-stained face reflected in their depths. "Don’t cry, it’s okay. I...I wish I could have–"

He coughed, blood smearing his lips.

"There’s no way...to help me...I accepted my lot...with my power..."

"No, it’s not true," I said desperately.

He shook his head, struggling to touch my cheek once more. "You already...told me you can’t...heal corruption ...this is how it was always meant to be. Consumed by hatred...stricken by the very power I craved. I’m glad I...I...found you..."

His head fell limp in my lap.

"I’m sorry," I whispered. "I...lied, too."

His eyes fluttered once more, but he was too weak to speak. I took a deep breath, drawing in all the power that had dispersed in my aura. My soul burned with the effort, but I brought the mana to bear, waving six magic circles. Green and gold light blossomed, driving back the last of the shadows.

I stroked his cheek, wiping away a tear. It was the first time I’d seen him cry since the circle took his sister. His breathing eased slightly, as if he was comforted by my mere touch.

The final runes fell into place. I took another deep breath and finished the spell.

"Please, let it be enough," I whispered.

It had saved my life once, bringing me back from a place none should return from, and I prayed it could do it again.

"Requiem."

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