Novels2Search
Saga of the Twin Spell-Blade
Chapter 120 : The Unforgiving Pact

Chapter 120 : The Unforgiving Pact

Mike caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror, his once-black hair now a vibrant purple—a color that seemed to pulse even in the dim light. The change was more than cosmetic; it was a stark reminder of how the magic had seeped into his very soul, warping him in ways he still struggled to understand.

Mike’s eyes drifted to Altheack beside him, her white hair softly glowing as she hunched over the old radio. Her pointed ears twitched slightly as she channeled her magic into the device, green eyes narrowed in deep concentration. In the dim light, her pale skin and the intensity of her focus gave her an otherworldly, almost ethereal presence.

But Riko, sitting quietly in the back seat, was different. Her black hair, sleek and dark, framed her sharp, Japanese features as she stared out the window. Riko’s power came from a different source—necromancy. She used the souls directly, turning them into mana without the filtering process that Mike and Altheack went through. It was a more direct, raw approach to power, and unlike them, it left no visible mark on her appearance. Her hair remained unchanged, her features unaffected by the magic she wielded.

Mike’s thoughts drifted back to Caldera, where he and Sophia had shared a body when they were Valicar. Their souls had merged in Valicar’s body, their magic intertwining in ways that still confounded him. When their hair had turned red and blue, he always thought it was a reflection of both their souls—a theory James had fed them, though Mike now thought bitterly of the lies and half-truths they had been told. Somehow, Sophia’s soul and magic had leaked into his, altering him in ways that even now, he didn’t fully understand.

But why the hell was his hair purple now? Shouldn’t it be a mix of red and blue, like Sophia's had been? The question gnawed at him, but he had no answers, only the unsettling realization that his transformation was far from complete.

His musings were interrupted by a sudden burst of static from the radio. Altheack’s hands glowed brighter as she infused the device with more magic, and finally, a voice crackled through, speaking in rapid Italian. The spell Altheack had cast translated the words into English, but the message was garbled, fragmented by the poor signal.

“This is an emergency broadcast... New York, Paris, Rome... have been hit... nuclear... EMPs... widespread destruction... all major cities... Moscow and Tokyo... cut off...”

Mike’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as the gravity of the situation hit him. The world was crumbling, and they were driving straight into the heart of the devastation.

“Millions... dead... global communications... down...”

The transmission wavered, fading in and out as they continued their rough journey. Mike exchanged a look with Altheack, her pale face a mirror of the dread he felt. Her green eyes were wide, reflecting the horror of what they were up against.

Then, the radio fell silent, the last connection to the outside world snuffed out. The van was filled only with the low rumble of the engine, the weight of the world’s destruction hanging heavy in the air.

Mike’s thoughts raced as he tried to process the enormity of the situation. The nukes had taken out nearly every major city. The chaos was spreading faster than they could have anticipated. Their only hope now lay at Zaltheral’s base, where they hoped to find a way back to Caldera. It was a desperate plan, but if they could escape Earth, they might strip Anna Sha of the mana beacon that drew her here, leaving her to lose Earth in the vast multiverse.

Mike glanced at Riko in the rearview mirror, noting the tension in her posture, the way her dark eyes flickered with unease. Despite everything, she had remained strong, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding them. He knew her strength wasn’t just in her necromantic abilities—it was in her ability to stay composed even as the world fell apart.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over them. “This second wave... it’s worse than we imagined. The nukes... the EMPs... cities are burning, and we’re not even halfway through it yet. We’re running out of time.”

Riko met his gaze in the mirror, her expression hardening. “This isn’t just a second wave, Mike. It’s a massacre. The demons are hitting every weak spot we have, and the nukes... they’re just the opening act. They’re breaking down the barriers between our world and theirs, and what’s coming next will be far worse.”

Altheack, her hands still on the radio, turned her head slightly, her voice low and filled with dread. “Millions... millions of souls ripped away in an instant. It’s fuel for them. Every death, every moment of fear, it’s making them stronger. I can feel it in the air—it’s thick with despair.”

Mike’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. “We have to stop it. Whatever it takes, we have to cut off their supply. If we don’t, this world... our world... it’ll be nothing more than a feeding ground for them.”

Riko nodded, her voice resolute. “That’s why we have to get to Zaltheral’s base. It’s our only chance. If we can sever their connection to Earth... maybe we can force them back, buy ourselves some time to figure out a real plan.”

Altheack’s voice trembled, but there was a hard edge to it. “It’s not just about surviving, Mike. We brought this on Earth. If we can’t stop Anna Sha, it won’t matter where we run. She’ll find us. She’ll find everyone.”

Mike gritted his teeth, staring straight ahead as the van sped through the darkness. “You’re right. This is our fault. Earth was safe until we awakened here, until we started messing with forces we didn’t understand. We lit the damn beacon for her.”

The silence that followed was heavy, each of them drowning in the realization. Mike’s voice dropped to a low, angry whisper. “I almost destroyed Caldera, and now we’re about to do the same to Earth. We have to leave. It’s the only way to give this world a chance.”

Altheack nodded, her expression pained but resolute. “We need to get to Sophia. She’s the only one who can help us end this, to fix what we’ve broken. And maybe… maybe bring Riko’s father back.”

Riko listened, her gaze hardened as she stared out the window. She was still angry—angry at what they were, what they had done. But over their time together, she’d come to appreciate Mike and Altheack in ways she never expected. They were flawed, yes, but they were fighting like hell to make things right. And for that, she couldn’t hate them. But she wasn’t here for them. She was here for her father, for the man whose life had been ripped away by the same dark forces that now threatened to destroy everything.

Mike’s voice broke the heavy silence, pulling Riko from her thoughts. “My parents... they gave me everything. A life I could’ve only dreamed of. And what do I do in return? I drag this nightmare right to their doorstep. But we’re not staying to watch it burn. We’re leaving, one way or another.”

Riko’s gaze shifted to him, her expression hardening as she struggled with her own guilt. “We all fucked up, Mike. I spent my life thinking I was serving something greater, that all the sacrifices were for a cause bigger than any of us. But it was a lie. My father’s life, my loyalty to Death Tooth—everything—was just a means to an end for them. Earth was never the prize; it’s just another playground for these gods and demons. We opened the door and invited them in.”

She paused, her voice growing colder. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand by and let them destroy everything. We can still stop this, Mike. We have to. Not just for us, but for everyone who got caught up in this. For my father. We’re not letting this world go down in flames because of the mistakes we made.”

Mike’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white as determination set in. “You’re right. We fix this, or we die trying. We’ll leave this place behind, find Sophia, and end this nightmare once and for all. No more running, no more hiding. It’s time to face what we’ve done and make it right.”

The van creaked to a stop outside Zaltheral's ancient fortress, the imposing structure looming against the darkening sky. The area around the fortress was eerie, shrouded in a thick mist that seemed to cling to the ruins of old stone walls and twisted trees. The remnants of ancient rituals were evident everywhere—crumbling statues, weathered altars, and runes carved into the very rock of the fortress itself. The air was heavy with a sense of foreboding, the weight of centuries of dark magic hanging over them.

Mike, Altheack, and Riko stepped out of the van, their breath visible in the cold air. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the distant calls of crows. They approached the fortress cautiously, every sense on high alert. The last remnants of the cult, loyal to Talo, stood guard at the entrance, their faces hidden by dark hoods. Yet, to Mike’s surprise, they made no move to stop them. Instead, one of the cultists stepped forward, bowing slightly.

“Welcome,” the cultist intoned, his voice devoid of emotion. “We’ve been expecting you. Talo awaits in the great room.”

Mike’s hand instinctively moved toward the hilt of his sword, but Riko subtly waved him off, keeping her expression neutral.

"Oh, the Elder is here?" Riko said, her tone carefully casual. "He made no mention of a trip when we last spoke—just a day ago."

“These are extraordinary times,” the cultist replied, his voice still flat and devoid of emotion, as he turned to lead them deeper into the fortress.

Mike exchanged a quick glance with Altheack, tension evident in his posture, but he followed Riko’s lead.

As they walked, the oppressive atmosphere grew thicker, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. Riko leaned in close to Mike and Altheack, her voice a barely audible whisper. "This is a trap, but it’s best to play along."

Mike nodded, reluctantly loosening his grip on his sword as they continued to follow the cultist deeper into the fortress. His jaw tightened, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. His instincts had been screaming that something was off, but he had hoped—desperately—that they could get through this without bloodshed. His current life had taught him patience, a restraint he had never known as Valicar. But that patience was wearing thin. He gave Riko a curt nod, acknowledging her warning. Now was not the time to act rashly.

The cultists led them through a massive set of double doors, intricately carved with ancient symbols that seemed to pulse with a faint, sinister glow. Beyond the doors was a grand chamber, its high ceilings lost in shadow. The walls were adorned with more of the strange, glowing runes, casting a sickly light over the room. At the far end of the chamber, standing on a raised platform, was Talo.

Mike, Altheack, and Riko froze in shock. They had expected to find Talo here, but the sight of him now—radiating dark power and unnatural vitality—was horrifying. He looked like the very image of a twisted Hercules, his body pulsing with the mana drawn from millions of souls, freshly harvested from the nuclear firestorm that had obliterated entire cities just miles away. The calm, composed figure before them, now brimming with this macabre strength, sent a chill down their spines, a stark reminder of the monstrous power that centuries of unchallenged necromancy on Earth had allowed Talo to amass.

He was an imposing figure, his Mediterranean features sharp and cold, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of malice and dark amusement. He watched them approach with the air of a man who had been waiting a long time for this moment. Talo had been the leader of the Death Tooth cult for centuries, a figure of immense power and influence, one who had commanded respect and fear in equal measure. Riko had once admired him, respected him for his position and the power he wielded. But now, with the truth of her father’s death laid bare, that respect had curdled into something darker—resentment, and a deep sense of betrayal.

“Welcome,” Talo said, his voice smooth and unsettling. “I’ve been looking forward to this meeting.”

Mike kept his expression neutral, though his mind was racing. Talo’s calm demeanor only heightened his suspicions. “We were told Death Tooth had gone to ground,” Mike said, his tone edged with caution.

Talo smiled, though there was no warmth in it. “Some of us did. But I had other plans, plans that have been in motion for centuries. While you were scrambling to save the world, I was positioning myself for what’s to come.”

As they stepped closer, Mike noticed the flicker of movement from the cultists who had led them in. They were positioning themselves strategically, blocking exits, subtly surrounding them. His muscles tensed, every fiber of his being ready to spring into action. He glanced at Altheack, who was already muttering under her breath, her fingers twitching with the beginnings of a spell. She was ready, just as he was.

Talo’s expression shifted, the smile fading as his eyes darkened. “You’ve come seeking answers, but what you’ll find here is far more than you bargained for.”

Riko took a step forward, her voice sharp with accusation. “Why are you here, Talo? Why did you let my father die? What the fuck were you hoping to gain?”

Talo’s sneer deepened, the malice in his eyes becoming more pronounced. “Your father was a pawn, nothing more. He served his purpose well, but now… now, the real game begins. I’ve been coming here for centuries, long before Zaltheral’s demise. While he was away, I had free reign over this fortress, pouring over his journals, discovering the true depths of his work. Zaltheral was only ever interested in Earth as a source of souls, a means to empower himself, and his fixation on Sophia was merely that of a tool he intended to use.”

He paused, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. “But I saw the potential for so much more. When Zaltheral was gone, I took the opportunity to align myself with Anna Sha. With the power and knowledge I’ve gained, I will reshape this world into something far more... fitting. A kingdom of despair, where the strong rule and the weak are nothing but fuel.”

Mike’s temper flared, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. “You fucking cunt,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “I knew I couldn’t trust you or your twisted cult. You’ve sold out humanity, and for what? To play puppet master over a world of the damned?”

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Riko’s eyes, once filled with a mixture of doubt and loyalty, hardened as she stepped closer to Mike, her decision resolute. “You fucking piece of shit,” she hissed at Talo, her voice trembling with rage. “I respected you! And you threw it all away for this? Selling out humanity to demons, getting my father killed for a puppet like Zaltheral? You’re nothing but a coward, hiding behind dark power and twisted ambitions. How long have you been planning this—decades?”

Talo chuckled, a dark, menacing sound. "Centuries, actually. I've watched and waited, biding my time. But after you, Mike, revealed that Zaltheral is dead for good, I moved in. Once you gained your mana, Anna Sha found us, and I was able to make a pact—for immortality and world domination. And all it will cost is a few billion souls."

Mike’s anger surged, but he held it in check. “You’re an god damn idiot if you think we’ll let you get away with this.”

Talo’s eyes gleamed with dark intent. “You won’t have a choice.” He raised his hand, and suddenly, the cultists around them began to change. Their hoods fell back, revealing faces twisted with decay, eyes hollow and lifeless. These were not living followers—they were undead puppets, controlled by Talo’s dark power.

Altheack’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Yevira.” Instantly, the ground beneath them erupted in a mass of thick vines, bristling with sharp thorns. The vines coiled around them, forming a protective barrier, ready to lash out at any moment.

Talo’s laughter echoed through the chamber, mocking and cruel. “Do you think your feeble defenses can stop what’s coming? I’ve been alive since the days of Rome, and I’ve made a deal with Anna Sha herself. I’m beyond your reach.”

As the battle erupted, Talo began chanting in a dark, guttural tone: "Husar, sanbau dags teagz ra mura za..." The words echoed ominously through the chamber as Mike’s grip tightened on his sword, the blade glowing with fierce, purple fire. He charged forward, cutting down the undead cultists who dared to stand in his way. Each swing of his sword sent arcs of blazing energy across the chamber, the searing heat slicing through rotting flesh and bone, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

Suddenly, a small black dot appeared behind Talo, consuming all light around it. Mike's eyes widened in recognition—it was a portal to hell. Realizing the imminent danger, he rushed forward with renewed urgency, determined to stop Talo before the portal could fully form.

Altheack moved with deadly precision beside him, her green eyes blazing with determination. With a chant of "Yevira," she summoned a wall of thorny vines, their razor-sharp edges slicing through the air. The vines lashed out, entangling the zombie-like creatures that Talo had summoned, crushing them into grotesque, pulpy masses as they tried to advance. These were no ordinary undead; they were the freshly risen dead, their flesh still clinging in rotting, putrid sheets to their bones. The sickly sweet stench of decay filled the air, mingling with the acrid smoke from burning bodies.

The creatures staggered forward, their movements jerky and unnatural, their dead eyes glazed with a malevolent hunger. Altheack's vines tightened around their bloated bodies, tearing through the decayed flesh, sending limbs flying in all directions. The ground was soon littered with the grisly remains—chunks of flesh, twisted limbs, and shattered bones coated in slick, black blood.

Shadow bolts hurled by the cultists—who were themselves little more than decaying husks, reanimated by Talo’s dark power—were deflected by Altheack's magic. The cultists, their skin sloughing off in large chunks, moaned and gurgled as they staggered forward, driven by Talo’s will. Some were missing entire sections of their bodies, dragging themselves forward on stumps, leaving trails of dark, oozing fluid in their wake. Their eyes, glazed and lifeless, fixed on Mike and his companions with mindless intent, their rotting fingers clawing at the air as they advanced.

Riko, positioned behind them, focused her energy on disrupting Talo’s ritual and the portal forming behind him. Her eyes glowed with a cold, eerie light as she called upon the souls she had harvested, directing them to clash with the dark magic that Talo wielded. The chamber shook as their powers collided, a fierce struggle for control over the ritual’s outcome. Every pulse of Riko's necromantic power sent a ripple through the room, causing Talo’s chanting to falter momentarily as he fought to maintain his focus.

Mike fought with a ferocity he hadn’t felt in years, his sword a blur as he hacked through the undead cultists. The room was filled with the nauseating stench of decaying flesh and the sickening sound of his blade cleaving through bone and sinew. He watched as heads, still grotesquely animated, rolled across the floor, jaws snapping futilely at the air even in death. One of the creatures, its chest cavity ripped open and ribs exposed, lunged at him, only to be sliced in two, its innards spilling out in a revolting heap.

Altheack’s protective vines tightened around them, crushing any enemy that dared to get too close. The zombie-like cultists crumbled beneath her power, their decayed bodies collapsing into piles of gore and rot. Her focus was unwavering, her connection to nature giving her the strength to hold the line even as the attacks grew more desperate.

But despite their efforts, Talo’s chanting only grew stronger, his voice resonating with a dark, malevolent energy that seemed to seep into the very walls of the chamber. The runes blazed even brighter, and Mike knew that time was running out.

With a final, desperate push, Mike broke through the last line of cultists, his sword blazing as he closed in on Talo. The necromancer, chanting an ancient incantation under his breath, stood his ground. His muscles bulged with the dark energy coursing through his veins, and in his hand, he held a twisted sword of black and silver, its blade shimmering like a needle woven from souls. As he chanted, Talo unleashed shadow bolts, dark tendrils of magic that crackled through the air, seeking to halt Mike’s advance.

But Mike was ready. With a determined swing of his sword, he batted the shadow bolts away, the violet flames that danced along his blade flickering with each deflection. The room echoed with the sound of metal against magic, a symphony of destruction that only fueled the fury in Mike’s heart.

As Talo sent another volley of shadow bolts hurtling toward him, something deep within Mike stirred—a forgotten memory, a buried instinct. He didn’t know how or why, but the word came to him like a whisper from the past. “Veas,” he muttered under his breath, barely aware of the power he was about to unleash.

The effect was immediate. A blade of wind shot from Mike’s hand, razor-sharp and tinged with the violet flames that had become his signature. The wind blade sliced through the air with deadly precision, catching Talo off guard. The necromancer’s eyes widened in shock as the blade of wind cleaved through his leg, severing it cleanly at the knee.

Talo let out a guttural scream, his chanting faltering as he collapsed to the ground, his once-imposing figure now crumpled in agony. Desperation filled his eyes as he tried to continue his incantation, but the dark energy that had empowered him began to waver. He swung his sword in a desperate attempt to defend himself, but Mike was relentless.

With another fierce swing, Mike’s sword met Talo’s wrist, severing his hand and sending the twisted weapon clattering to the ground. Talo screamed again, his voice raw with pain, but Mike wasn’t finished. He kicked the fallen necromancer back, and with a swift, brutal motion, he severed Talo’s remaining hand, leaving the once-mighty sorcerer defenseless.

Talo’s chants had turned into a garbled whisper, "Vas mu...nav," his voice barely audible over the crackling of dark magic in the air. His strength was fading fast, the energy he had siphoned from the dead slipping away like sand through his fingers.

Mike advanced, his sword at the ready. Talo tried to push himself up, desperate to finish the ritual, but his body was failing him. With a single, fluid motion, Mike drove his sword through Talo’s chest, cutting through the necromancer’s enhanced muscles as if they were nothing. The room seemed to implode with dark energy, and for a moment, everything was engulfed in blinding light.

When the light faded, Mike was left standing alone, the cultists around him reduced to charred, smoking corpses. Talo stood at the center of the room, his once-superhuman figure now reduced to a shadow of its former self. The portal to the demon realm yawned open behind him, fueled by the souls he had harvested from across Italy and Europe. But as Mike’s sword remained embedded in Talo’s chest, the ancient necromancer gasped, his eyes wide with shock.

“You... fool...” Talo rasped, blood bubbling from his lips. “Even now... you’ve... lost...”

With a final, choking breath, Talo’s body went limp, slumping to the ground as the light faded from his eyes. Mike stood over him, panting, his sword still embedded in Talo’s chest. The room was filled with the stench of death, the bodies of the undead cultists who had fallen in the brief battle surrounding Mike like a macabre tapestry. Talo’s powerful, spell-wielding defense had crumbled in the face of Mike’s relentless assault, leaving him defeated despite all the dark power he had wielded.

As Talo’s life ebbed away, the room seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with the lingering echoes of dark magic. But just as his final breath escaped, the portal behind him pulsed violently, a surge of dark energy rippling through the chamber like a tidal wave. Anna Sha’s malevolent presence, already halfway through the veil, seized the moment with brutal cunning.

Without warning, dark tendrils exploded from the portal, writhing like serpents in the air. They moved with terrifying speed, their target unmistakable—Altheack. The vines she had summoned moments ago to protect them were no match for the raw power of the archdemon. The tendrils tore through them as if they were nothing, their path unhindered as they wrapped around her with a vise-like grip.

Altheack barely had time to react. Her green eyes widened in shock and terror as the tendrils coiled around her, tightening with merciless force. She struggled, her magic flaring instinctively, but it was like trying to fight a hurricane with a candle flame. The tendrils lifted her off the ground, pulling her inexorably toward the gaping maw of the portal.

"Mike!" Altheack’s voice, usually so calm and composed, was laced with fear and desperation. She reached out toward him, her fingers straining, eyes locked on his with a silent plea. “Mike, help me!”

Mike’s heart pounded in his chest, his blood turning to ice as he saw her being dragged away. He moved before he even realized it, his body reacting on instinct alone. With a roar of pure anguish, he lunged forward, every muscle straining as he reached out for her, his hand stretching toward hers, fingertips just inches apart.

“No! I won’t let you take her!” he bellowed, his voice raw, a mix of fury and desperation. His sword, still glowing with the remnants of his mana, slashed through the air, cutting at the tendrils with all the strength he could muster. Sparks flew as the blade met the dark energy, but the tendrils held fast, unyielding to his frantic efforts.

Altheack’s eyes filled with tears, her voice breaking as she struggled against the relentless pull. “Mike, please!” she cried out, her voice trembling, every word a knife to his heart. “Don’t let go!”

But the portal’s pull was too strong. Despite his desperate efforts, despite the power he poured into each strike, Mike couldn’t break the tendrils’ hold. His hand finally brushed against hers, their fingers grazing for the briefest moment before the tendrils yanked her away, pulling her toward the dark abyss.

Anna Sha’s cruel laughter filled the room, a chilling sound that echoed in Mike’s ears as the portal began to close. Her voice, dripping with venom and seething with petty rage, cut through the air like a knife. “Consider this a payment, mortal,” the archdemon sneered, her words laced with a spiteful malice that sent a chill down Mike’s spine. “This is for running away from our pact. Did you think you could escape me so easily? You cost me my full summoning, and now you’ll pay the price.”

Her voice twisted with anger, each word a bitter reminder of the pact Mike had broken long ago. “I’ll take her with me,” she hissed, the malevolent glee in her tone barely masking the fury bubbling beneath the surface. “You may have delayed me, but you’ll never outrun the consequences of your betrayal—just like your sister, twin of the dragon.”

Mike’s heart shattered as he watched Altheack disappear into the darkness, her hand slipping from his grasp just as the portal snapped shut with a deafening crack, sealing her fate. He stood there, frozen, his hand still outstretched, grasping at nothing but empty air.

The silence that followed was deafening, a hollow void where Altheack’s voice had been just moments before. Mike dropped to his knees, the weight of his failure crushing down on him like a thousand tons. His breath came in ragged gasps, his mind a storm of anguish and despair. He had failed her—he had failed to protect the one person who mattered most.

Riko watched in stunned silence, her heart heavy as she took in the scene. She knew what had just happened, the magnitude of the loss they had suffered. But the fight wasn’t over, and despite the overwhelming grief that gripped them both, there was still a chance—a small, desperate chance—to bring her back.

“Mike,” Riko’s voice was steady but filled with urgency, cutting through the haze of his despair. “There might still be a way.”

He looked up at her, eyes wild with grief and desperation. “What are you talking about? She’s gone. I couldn’t save her.”

Riko knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me. Talo was using a ritual to open that portal. I can do the same. If I use the same spell, I can reopen the gate and you can follow her. You can still save Altheack.”

Mike’s breath caught, a spark of hope flickering in the darkness. “You can do that?”

Riko nodded, her gaze unwavering. “I can. But it’s going to require an immense amount of power. Talo tapped into the massive surge of energy from all the recent deaths, and I’ll need something just as strong—if not stronger.”

Mike’s heart sank as he realized the implications. “But where can we find that kind of power?”

Riko’s eyes met his, and there was a look of resolve in them. “We already have it. The souls within you, Mike. The billions you absorbed on Caldera—they’re still there, a vast reservoir of mana. I can tap into that, but I’ll need your help.”

Mike felt a chill run down his spine. The souls he had taken, the immense burden he carried—it was a power he rarely touched, a reminder of the darkness he had once embraced. But now, it was the only hope they had.

“Do it,” he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his heart. “Take whatever you need.”

Riko nodded, her expression grim but determined. She moved behind him, placing her hand on his back. Mike felt a surge of energy as she began to draw from the well of souls within him. The air around them crackled with power as the souls were channeled into the ritual, the chamber filling with a pulsing, otherworldly light.

Mike clenched his fists, feeling the souls within him stir, their voices rising in a chorus of agony as they were torn from him. But he didn’t flinch. He focused on the image of Altheack, on the promise he had made to her. I will save you, my love, he vowed silently, his heart steeling with resolve. I will kill you, Anna Sha. And I will see my sister again.

The energy in the chamber intensified, the ground trembling beneath them as Riko chanted the ancient words that would open the gate. The portal began to form, its dark edges rippling with malevolent power, fed by the souls that were being obliterated to sustain it.

Riko’s voice wavered for just a moment, the strain of the ritual evident, but she pressed on, drawing deeper from Mike’s reserves. His body trembled under the pressure, the weight of the souls pressing down on him, but he didn’t falter. This was the only way. I will save her, no matter the cost.

The portal flared with violent energy, fully open and waiting. Mike rose to his feet, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. He took a deep breath, casting one last look around the chamber, at the world he was about at to leave behind.

Goodbye, Earth, he thought, the weight of his decision settling in his chest. There’s nothing left for me here.

Without another word, he stepped through the portal, his mind filled with the promises he had made. The darkness of the demon’s dimension swallowed him whole, the gate sealing shut behind him with a thunderous crack.

As the inky blackness of the demon world enveloped him, Mike felt the oppressive weight of the place press down on him, but he pushed forward, his resolve unshaken. The air was thick with the stench of sulfur and the distant wails of tormented souls, but all Mike could think about was Altheack.

I will bring you back, Altheack. No matter what it takes.

He had promised Riko he would save her father, that he would find Sophia, but all of that was secondary to the burning need to save Altheack from the hellish fate that awaited her. The path ahead was treacherous, the odds stacked against him, but Mike had never backed down from a fight—not when it mattered most.

As he pressed on through the swirling darkness, the echoes of the billions of souls within him whispered in his mind, their voices a cacophony of pain and suffering. But beneath it all, there was a single, unwavering purpose that drove him forward: to save the woman he loved, to bring her back from the depths of hell itself.

The journey would be perilous, filled with unimaginable horrors and challenges that would test the very limits of his power and resolve. But Mike was ready. He had come this far, and he would go further still. He would tear through the demon world, face down the archdemon Anna Sha, and rescue Altheack from her clutches.

And when he had done that, when he had fulfilled his vow, he would find Sophia and make good on his promises to Riko.

But first, he would face the darkness and emerge victorious—or die trying.

With a final, determined breath, Mike pushed deeper into the abyss, the fiery resolve in his heart guiding him through the darkness, toward the faint, distant light that was Altheack.

He would save her. No matter what.