Rusty Chains

The magical barrier of the Utopiosphere had fallen, granting demons free passage to invade the small village.

   Poor are the souls who trust in any glimmer
   For only the stars’ light is true
   Not all who extend a hand are your allies
   The mouth that smiles at you may be the one that devours you

Enter Galle, the Sin of Innocence.

It was a simple plan. First, he subdued and gathered the feral demons that roamed the area—these wolf-like creatures were easy to control for stronger demons.. After setting them on standby, he sought a gap in the village children’s  to break the Utopiosphere’s barrier.

When the barrier fell, the feral demons leaped from the forest into the village, attacking everything in their path and leaving a trail of destruction.

Right behind them, Galle marched forward. His body was now taller and stronger, taking on a humanoid form nearly six feet in height. His long-nosed mask now fused with two elongated horns.

The first victim was Helena, followed closely by her mother. When the villagers heard Helena’s mother’s scream, they were confused, thinking it was an accident or a fleeting scare.

Those curious enough to investigate were met with the claws and fangs of the lesser demons. These creatures might not have posed a great threat to mages, but to ordinary, untrained people, they were lethal.

Hiding inside their homes was not a solution—demons broke through wooden doors with brute force, following the scent of human blood. The villagers who attempted to flee into the forest found no luck either, as Galle struck them down from behind.

Galle moved his massive body far faster than one would expect from something of his size. With sharp claws, he lunged at humans, slashing their jugulars with swift movements. Using his wicked intelligence, he knocked over oil lanterns to start fires, blocking any possible escape routes.

It was a true massacre. None of those poor humans stood a chance against the demons' might. The village had about fifty people, and one by one, they were being wiped out at alarming speed.

One of the feral demons ran freely through the village street, biting the necks of anyone in its way—until suddenly, its body was wrapped in chains.

The demon writhed, trying to break free, but the chains stretched in different directions, tearing the creature into pieces.

That sight did not go unnoticed by Galle, who immediately turned to face the one responsible.

An old man walked toward him, surrounded by several silver chains, tarnished by the rust of age; Belchior’s expression was usually reserved, sometimes even kind—but in that moment, it carried only one emotion: rage.

“The Chain.” The man clenched his fists. “It’s time to put an end to this.”

(...)

(Meanwhile, at the beach)

“What’s happening?” Arya asked, her voice filled with concern.

Edward thought to himself, "Those flames… Could it be?"

“Edward? Edward!”

“I have a bad feeling about this. Arya, let’s go back.”

Arya nodded without hesitation, and the two bid farewell to their special moment, running toward an uncertain, chaotic future.

As they ran back to the village, their destination was Belchior’s house. It was a good opportunity to regroup with Peter and Belchior to understand the situation.

What they weren’t expecting was to be ambushed before even reaching the house—two feral demons emerged from the darkness of the forest.

Edward drew his sword from his waist just in time to deflect the demons’ claws aimed at the couple.

“Arya, are you okay?”

“Yes, but why are there demons here?”

“Go to the house and look for Belchior and Peter. I’ll hold them off.”

“Okay!” Arya didn’t hesitate. Without thinking twice, she sprinted toward the house. Everything would be fine once she found Belchior—he had always been someone she could trust, someone who would know what to do.

As Arya ran, she turned her back to the demons, and they wasted no time in seizing the opportunity, lunging toward her. However, Edward had anticipated this reaction.

Placing his left hand behind his back at shoulder height, he pulled out his bone chain. His magic allowed him to manipulate bone material, enabling him to do something absurd—replicating his own spinal column. It was a feat that even Belchior couldn’t understand how Edward accomplished without suffering any side effects.

Edward swung the bone chain like a whip. It extended and wrapped around one of the demons’ legs, bringing it down. Holding his sword tightly, he dashed toward the other demon, which now turned its attention back to him.

Arya made it safely to the house, which was already open. She ran inside, calling out for Peter and Belchior, but there was no response. They had already left.

As she passed by Belchior’s room, a dark thought crossed her mind—the flute. The instrument responsible for her burden as a necromancer was right there, calling to her, ready to be used.

She stepped into the room, but as she reached for the chest where the flute was kept, she was met with an unexpected surprise…

Meanwhile, outside, Edward was bravely fighting against the two demons. With his whip, he kept one of the targets at a distance while engaging in close combat with the other. The boy was faster and dodged with little difficulty. Then, the two demons began to surround Edward from both sides, preparing a synchronized attack.

The demons circled him like two predators, and after a few seconds of tension, they both lunged at Edward. The boy threw his whip against one of the pillars supporting the house's porch, preparing for the right moment.

He waited until the last second, and when the demons were about to make contact with his body, he propelled himself toward the pillar, using the whip to increase his speed and escape certain death.

The two demons collided their heads, while Edward let go of the whip to grasp his sword with both hands and launch his counterattack. He ran towards the demons, using the trunk of one of them to gain momentum for a jump.

Spinning his body in the air, he made a crescent slash toward the ground, striking the demons' heads, which were almost aligned. The blow was lethal to one of them, while the other staggered backward, taking a few steps away.

Edward took advantage of the demon’s disorientation to advance, but the last one attempted to bite him with the remaining strength it had. With a certain elegance, Edward dodged the fangs by shifting his body to the side while simultaneously delivering a strike to the demon, slicing it in half.

"Arf..." Edward unconsciously celebrated his victory, holding his fist forward. "That was easier than I thought."

Edward regained some of his breath and then ran inside the house in search of Arya. When he finally found her, he was overcome with a sense of dread. Arya was in Belchior's room, trying to open the chest with kicks, but it was locked with rusty chains.

Even in a moment of urgency, Belchior had made sure to seal the chest containing Arya's flute, trying to prevent her at all costs from using her necromancy.

"Arya!!" Edward shouted desperately.

The girl turned to Edward, startled. Moments ago, hearing him call her name was something so comforting, but at that moment, it only heightened her despair.

Tears ran down her face. She didn’t want to just stand there, merely praying for the salvation of the villagers. She knew that if she used her power, she could help, even if it cost her life.

"You can't... Please, leave that chest alone."

"Edward... I want to save them."

"You don’t need that! Using necromancy will only put you in danger."

"But I must!—"

"You don’t need to! Stop trying to sacrifice yourself for others!"

"..."

Those were bitter words, but that was truly how Edward felt. He didn’t understand Arya’s desire to sacrifice herself because she was everything to him.

"Even if using my power means putting my life at risk, I don’t care. I want to protect those who are precious to me."

Belchior’s words echoed in Edward’s mind. The warning he had given to become stronger wasn’t just to protect Arya but to stop her from fighting, because she would always try to protect everyone before herself.

"This isn’t right." Edward had a sad expression. "You don’t have to take risks. Let the three of us handle the situation; everything will be fine, trust me."

"... Alright..." Edward's sadness ended up touching her heart. "I’m sorry for slowing us down. Let's go to them now."

CLANK! … The chains locking the chest had broken....

(…)

Galle looked at Belchior with a mix of fear and admiration, realizing he was facing a formidable opponent. While letting out a sinister laugh, the demon sharpened his claws for battle.

Peter arrived shortly after Belchior, having dealt with some demons they had encountered along the way.

"What’s with the big guy laughing?"

"It must have been him who broke through the Utopiosphere barrier."

"So this is the bastard who caused all this? I'm gonna take him down..."

"That wasn’t our agreement. Keep taking out the lesser demons and rescuing survivors, leave him to me."

"I haven't been able to rescue anyone yet..." There was clear frustration in Peter's words, but he followed Belchior's plan.

With a nod, he ran off on his mission while Belchior faced Galle head-on. The stage was set for a battle to the death between Belchior and Galle.

…

Peter searched for demons or any signs of survivors, but he found nothing. Hearing a noise coming from one of the houses, he decided to go inside.

He ended up witnessing one of the worst sights of his life. The body of one of the village elders lay on the ground, completely torn apart. A bitter taste rose in Peter's throat, and he vomited.

"Blerghhh... cough cough... Ughh... cough." Slowly, he managed to pull himself together. "... cough Now’s not the time for this. I need to look for survivors..."

But no matter how many houses he searched, all he found was a trail of corpses left by the demons. Men, women, the elderly, and children—there wasn’t a single person who had escaped.

A sudden scream reignited Peter’s hope. Outside, a woman was running with a demon close behind. Peter acted quickly and rushed to defend her. "Someone! At least someone, I will save!"

Peter positioned himself between the demon and the woman, who had already fallen to the ground. With a swift movement, he delivered a powerful punch to the demon’s head. The boy turned to the woman with a smile, preparing words of comfort: “It’s okay! Don’t worry—!”

His words were abruptly cut off as another demon took advantage of the opening and struck him with a headbutt, launching the boy into the air like a bull hitting its target.

Keeping his guard up had always been Peter’s weakness. As he crashed violently to the ground, he caught a glimpse of the woman being killed by the demon.

It was over. There was no one left to save. All of Peter’s efforts up to this point, all the time he had spent training, had been in vain! At the most crucial moment, he had failed to protect a single soul.

Consumed by rage, Peter felt his frustration and hatred begin to burn through his veins. He threw off his shirt, allowing his flames to manifest around his arms.

The first demon charged at Peter, who sidestepped and immediately countered, striking the lower torso of the demon. A powerful punch from his flame-covered right hand—the impact was so strong that it sent the demon flying behind Peter, tumbling as it hit the ground.

Before the demon could rise again, Peter landed another punch directly on its head, crushing and burning it simultaneously.

The second demon seized the opportunity to attack, charging at Peter like a bull once more. However, this time Peter had time to react and grabbed the demon’s horns with both hands, preventing the headbutt.

Peter’s strength did not waver for a second—he overpowered and subdued the demon, forcing its head down little by little. When the angle was sufficient, Peter began delivering knee strikes, eventually breaking the demon’s neck.

“Oooooooohhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!” That scream released all of Peter’s rage and frustration from his body.

(…)

Meanwhile, Belchior and Galle were locked in their deadly battle. The demon was much stronger and faster, but the mage balanced the fight using his chains.

The metallic sound echoed as Galle’s claws clashed against Belchior’s chains. It was only a matter of time before the old mage succumbed to fatigue—his aged body would not survive a direct hit.

Belchior realized he needed to immobilize the demon somehow. Allowing himself to be struck, he wrapped his chains around himself to avoid a fatal blow. With a precise movement, he extended his chains onto the demon’s arm, coiling them like a snake around its body.

Galle struggled violently to break free, but to no avail—Belchior’s chains emerged from all sides to restrain the demon. Galle’s body was resilient, but the chains were searching for a weak point.

At that crucial moment, Belchior had to focus entirely on keeping the demon restrained, which left his guard completely open.

From his blind spot, the last of the beastly demons in the village emerged, with a clear path to Belchior’s neck. The mage dodged at the last second, but his agility was not what it once was—he couldn’t avoid the attack completely.

“Arghhhhhhhhh!!!!!!” Belchior evaded the fatal blow to his neck, but his left arm was torn off by the demon.

The pain sent the old mage to his knees as he used his remaining hand to try to stop the bleeding. However, he already knew it was too late.

“Uwahaha!!” The demon Galle let out a macabre laugh as the mage’s chains began to weaken.

Those rusted chains could no longer contain Galle’s strength. In a symphony of sharp sounds, the chains started to snap, breaking one by one into pieces.

“Heh… Memento Mori… My end was already decided. I suppose I never really had a chance to win this battle…”

Belchior watched as Galle freed himself from the chains and slowly walked toward him. He felt no fear—instead, a sense of tranquility filled his heart. At least, he would reunite with his wife and daughter, becoming a star alongside them in the palace of Mors.

The demon finished closing the distance, its massive body making its presence even more oppressive. Belchior looked at the fiend with utter disgust—it was not a sight he wished for in his final moments.

“Well, at least I had a good life…”

“NOT YET!!!!!!!”

With a leap, Peter launched himself forward, striking the demon’s face with his elbow, causing it to lose balance and topple to the side.

“A good life? Professor still has a lot to live for! I won’t let it end like this! I’m sick of watching people die in front of me!”

Peter had returned.