Ch. 8: Part 1 — Shackled Flame

The cell was cold stone and silence.

Chains bound Arata’s wrists and ankles, their runes glowing faintly, siphoning the fire from his veins. His katana lay shattered on the far side of the room, its broken blade sealed in iron.

For the first time in years, the flame inside him was quiet.

He sat against the wall, shades still perched on his nose, silver hair casting shadows across his face. His thin smile lingered, faint but bitter.

“—Funny. Save the world a hundred times, end up in a box anyway. Guess I really was just a monster in their eyes. ”

The silence didn’t answer. Only the drip of water echoing in the dark.

Above ground, the city bustled with unease.

Patrols doubled, curfews tightened. Civilians whispered in relief that the flame was finally bound—but the fear didn’t vanish. If anything, it grew sharper.

“—What if the chains break? ”

“—What if he’s waiting for the right moment? ”

“—He’s still here, under our feet. ”

The council watched from their chamber, convincing themselves it was the right choice. That with the immortal flame shackled, the city was finally safe.

But even they couldn’t ignore the unease twisting in their guts.

Aris stood alone in her quarters, saber laid across the table. She stared at its polished steel, her reflection fractured in the blade.

They bound him like a criminal. Like a beast. And I let it happen.

Her fist tightened until her knuckles whitened. Was that loyalty to my city—or betrayal of him?

The question gnawed at her, heavier than any battle.

Far beyond the walls, black fire roared in the ruins.

The Crowned Demon watched through the flames, golden eyes gleaming with triumph.

“Yes—the flame is shackled. Their only shield broken by their own hands. Now. all that remains is to strike. ”

The shadows writhed with laughter, the night trembling with their hunger.

The trap was set.

And the city slept, unaware its doom was already walking toward its gates.

The first signs came with the wind.

A foul stench drifted across the eastern plains, thick as rot, burning the throat of every soldier on the walls. The air grew heavy, unnatural—like the breath of a predator just before it struck.

Then came the sound.

Drums. Deep, thunderous, rolling across the wasteland like a heartbeat.

Soldiers froze, knuckles whitening around spear shafts and sword hilts. Civilians peered from shuttered windows, their whispers trembling.

“—It’s them. ”

“—The demons are marching. ”

“—And our flame is chained beneath our feet. ”

From the watchtowers, torches flared, bells rang.

“Enemy sighted. ”

“Thousands—no, more. ”

“They’re coming for the walls. ”

Panic spread faster than fire. Civilians rushed for the inner districts, soldiers scrambled into formation. The city, fractured and distrustful, tried to remember what unity felt like—yet found only fear.

In the Council Chamber, voices erupted.

“Sound the full alarm. ”

“Deploy every unit to the walls. ”

“Where is Arata—why isn’t he unleashed?”

But no one spoke the truth aloud: they had already decided. They had chained their weapon. Now they would fight without him.

Aris stood apart from the shouting, her face like carved stone. Inside, her chest burned. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To prove you could survive without him. Let’s see how long that lasts.

Her hand hovered near her saber, her mind torn. Do I hold the line with them—or unchain the only one who can?

Below, in the cold stone cell, Arata sat in silence as the faint boom of war drums echoed through the walls.

His let out a small, lopsided smile curved sharp, bitter. “—So. The demons finally came knocking. Guess the timing couldn’t be better. ”

He tilted his head back against the wall, Draconic Eyes glowing faintly behind his shades.

“—Wonder how long they’ll last without me. ”

Far beyond the walls, the Crowned Demon led the march, golden eyes burning through the smoke. His voice slithered across the battlefield.

“Strike. Break their walls. Let them see the cost of betraying their only flame. ”

The demon horde roared, shaking the night.

The siege had begun.

The night lit with fire.

The demon horde slammed against the eastern wall, claws and steel tearing into stone. Arrows rained, catapults roared, soldiers screamed as the tide crashed over them.

From the ramparts, the city watched its nightmare unfold.

“Hold the line. ”

“Reinforce the gate. ”

“They’re breaking through—. ”

But no command could hide the truth. Every strike the demons landed pushed the walls closer to collapse.

Aris fought at the front, saber flashing, her uniform streaked with blood and ash. She cut down one demon, then another, but for each that fell, three more clawed their way up the walls. Her breath came sharp, sweat burning in her eyes.

It’s too much.

Behind her, soldiers faltered, their discipline cracking under the weight of fear.

“Where’s Arata?” one screamed, parrying a claw.

“We chained him, remember? ” another spat back, his voice shaking.

“—Then we’re already dead. ”

The words spread faster than fire. The truth no one wanted to say hung heavy in the air: without the flame, the city had no shield.

In the Council Chamber, chaos reigned.

“Send more men to the east. ”

“They’re breaking through the south as well. ”

“We can’t hold every wall—. ”

A governor slammed the table. “Unchain him. Call the flame now. ”

But another shouted back, “If we release him, we die by his hand instead. ”

The chamber fractured, fear drowning reason, their shouts echoing as the city bled.

Deep below, Arata sat in his cell, chains glowing faintly around his wrists. He listened to the distant roars, the screams, the stone cracking above him.

His gave a dry tilt of the mouth curved sharp, bitter. “—Tch. Didn’t take long. Guess the demons work faster than the council. ”

He leaned back, fire restless in his chest, his Draconic Eyes glowing faint behind his shades. “—Question is, how many of you I’ll have left to save when you finally beg me. ”

Aris’s saber cleaved another demon, black blood spraying across her arm. Her chest heaved, her mind burning with one truth.

We can’t hold. Not like this.

Her eyes flicked back toward the heart of the city. Toward the cell below.

Damn it. Do I obey my city—or save it?

The choice hung like a blade at her throat.

The dungeon trembled with the roar of war above.

Aris strode into the cell, saber still dripping black blood, her eyes burning. The glow of runes on Arata’s chains lit the dark, pulsing like a heartbeat.

She stepped forward. “I’m breaking you out. ”

Arata tilted his head, thin smile sharp despite the weight of the shackles. “—Heh. Finally figured it out? Took a whole siege for you to admit they’re useless without me. ”

Her jaw tightened. “Don’t push me, Arata. I’m doing this because we’ll all die otherwise. Not because the council was wrong—”

“—But they were, ” he cut in, his let out a small, lopsided smile faint, bitter. “And so were you, for letting them bind me in the first place. ”

Aris froze, words caught in her throat.

She dropped to one knee, examining the chains. The runes burned with power, their light pulsing hotter as she touched them.

“These aren’t ordinary restraints, ” she muttered. “They’re not just binding your body—they’re suppressing your flame. If I cut them, the backlash could—”

Arata chuckled low. “—Blow us both to ash? ” He leaned back against the wall, gave a dry tilt of the mouth curling sharp. “Guess that’s one way to test how much you trust me. ”

Her fingers tightened on her saber. If I don’t—the city dies. If I do. I might unleash something worse.

The weight of choice pressed on her chest.

Above them, the city screamed. The eastern district was already aflame, demons flooding through the breach. Soldiers fell, civilians scattered, the Council Chamber shook with the force of battle.

And still, their savior sat in chains.

Aris raised her saber, blade trembling as it hovered over the glowing shackles. Her voice cracked through the silence.

“Arata. If I do this—if I free you. promise me you’ll fight for this city. Not against it. ”

The a wry smile faded from his lips. His Draconic Eyes glowed faint behind his shades, crimson-white fire burning steady.

“—I don’t make promises I can’t keep. ”

The torchlight flickered, the runes pulsing brighter, hungrier.

And Aris swung.

Steel met chain.

The dungeon erupted in fire.

The blade struck true.

Chains screamed as the runes cracked, light bursting in frantic pulses. For a heartbeat, silence consumed the dungeon. Then—

The world erupted.

Flames exploded from Arata’s body, white-hot and violent, devouring the walls in a torrent of light. Stone cracked, iron melted, the air itself warped from the heat.

Aris was hurled back, her saber torn from her grip, her uniform scorched. She shielded her face, teeth gritted, every breath burning her lungs.

Through the storm, she saw him rise.

Arata stood in the heart of the inferno, shackles shattered at his feet, their fragments glowing like embers. His crimson coat flared in the firestorm, his silver hair whipping in the heat.

His Draconic Eyes flared—blazed crimson-white behind the shades, brighter than she had ever seen. The flame inside him was no longer restrained. It roared, restless, alive.

“—Heh. ” His let the corner of his mouth quirk curved sharp, dangerous. “Feels good to breathe again. ”

The dungeon shook under the weight of his power, torches extinguished by the storm of his flame. For a moment, even Aris—who had fought beside him countless times—felt her chest tighten.

This—this is the power they feared.

Above ground, the city felt it.

Soldiers froze mid-battle as a wave of heat rolled through the streets. Civilians dropped to their knees, gasping as the very air trembled.

“—The flame. ”

“—They unleashed it. ”

“—God help us all. ”

Fear spread faster than the fire, twisting through the crowd.

Far beyond the walls, the Crowned Demon stopped at the head of his army. His golden eyes widened, then curved into a slow, delighted smile.

“Yes—yes. Break your chains, flame. Show them what you truly are. ”

He raised his blackened blade high, his army howling at his back.

“Now the choice is theirs: do they embrace their monster—or burn beneath him? ”

The siege tightened. The true battle was about to begin.

The dungeon doors blew apart in a storm of fire.

Arata emerged through the smoke, crimson coat trailing, silver hair catching the inferno’s glow. His Draconic Eyes blazed behind his shades, crimson-white light burning brighter than the torches that once lit the halls.

Every soldier in the corridor froze. Chains hung in their hands, dropped uselessly to the floor.

“—The seal—”

“—He broke it. ”

“—Gods, what have we done? ”

Arata’s thin smile, his voice low, sharp. “—You wanted the monster? You got him. Now get out of my way. ”

The soldiers stumbled back, fear stronger than duty, leaving the path open.

Above ground, the city burned.

Demons poured through the shattered eastern gate, clawing across the streets, setting homes ablaze. Civilians screamed, soldiers fought desperately, the line collapsing with every heartbeat.

Then the air split.

A wave of heat roared through the streets as Arata strode from the dungeon, katana reforged in flame within his grip. The ground cracked beneath his steps, fire curling in his wake.

Every eye turned toward him.

“—He’s free. ”

“—The flame walks again. ”

“—Monster or savior? ”

The first demon lunged.

Arata’s katana cleaved through it in a single molten arc. The creature dissolved into ash before it even hit the ground. Flames surged outward, consuming three more in an instant.

The soldiers nearest the breach stared wide-eyed, trembling.

“He—he cut them down like nothing. ”

“But that fire—it’ll burn us too,”

“—Do we cheer. or run? ”

Their fear clashed with awe, drowning the night in whispers.

Aris emerged from the dungeon behind him, saber drawn, her chest heaving from the heat. Her voice cut sharp above the chaos.

“Focus. He’s fighting for you—hold the line and push them back. ”

But even her command faltered against the tide of doubt. To the soldiers, the image before them was no man—only fire wearing human skin.

Arata let out a small, lopsided smile faintly, lifting his blade as the horde surged toward him.

“—Monster, savior, curse,call me whatever you want. At the end of the day. ”

Flames roared, his katana blazing like a dragon’s fang.

“—I’m the only thing keeping you alive. ”

And he charged, firestorm erupting in his wake.

The streets became a battlefield of fire and shadow.

Arata moved like a storm, every swing of his katana carving molten arcs that reduced demons to ash. Claws shattered, wings burned, bodies crumbled before the white-hot blaze. His crimson coat snapped in the inferno’s wind, his silver hair glowed like steel under the flames.

To the demons, he was death incarnate.

To the city, he was something far worse.

“—Look at him. ”

“—That’s not human. ”

“—He’ll burn us too. ”

Whispers spread faster than the fire. Civilians fled not just from the demons, but from the flame that fought them. Soldiers wavered, their swords trembling—not sure if they should fight at his side or point their blades at his back.

Aris cut down a demon that slipped past him, shouting over the roar. “Hold your ground. He’s on our side. ”

But her words barely reached them. Fear choked reason. The people saw only fire devouring their streets, and a man walking through it untouched.

Atop the ruins of a collapsed watchtower, the Crowned Demon watched the chaos, his golden eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction.

“Yes—” he murmured. “Every strike widens the rift. They will fear him more than they fear me. And when that fear festers they will strike him down with their own hands. ”

The black flame at his feet roared higher, his laughter carrying across the battlefield.

“Fight for them, flame. Burn for them. Every victory you win is a step closer to your fall. ”

Arata stood in the heart of the street, surrounded by ash where demons had once stood. His katana burned brighter than ever, but A wry, faint, bitter smile curved his lips.

“—Save them, scare them. Guess that’s the cycle, huh? ”

He glanced at the soldiers still frozen, their eyes wide with terror.

“—Doesn’t matter. Hate me all you want. I’ll keep burning. ”

Dawn broke over smoke and ruin.

The eastern district smoldered, its walls shattered, its streets painted in black blood and ash. The cries of the wounded echoed through the ruins, mingling with the crackle of dying fires.

But there was no cheer.

No celebration.

Only silence heavy with fear.

The city had survived the night—yet in their hearts, many wondered if the true danger walked still among them.

Arata sat atop the ruins of a collapsed tower, cigarette burning low between his fingers. His crimson coat was scorched, his katana still glowing faint with fire at his side. He exhaled smoke into the morning air, his wry smile faint, bitter.

“—Funny. Save the city, and somehow it feels like I’m the one who destroyed it. ”

Below, civilians picked through rubble, whispering as they glanced up at him.

“—He burned half the district. ”

“—No demon could cause that much damage. ”

“—Is he even human anymore? ”

Their words carried louder than the bells.

In the Council Chamber, voices clashed again, raw with exhaustion and fear.

“He fought like a god—”

“He burned like a demon—”

“He’s the reason we lost so much. ”

Aris stood silent near the table, her saber laid across her lap. Her eyes burned with fury, but her voice stayed cold.

You damn cowards. Without him, there would be no city left to argue over.

But she knew her words would change nothing. The council had already decided: the flame was no savior, only a threat delayed.

Far beyond the walls, the Crowned Demon stood in the black fire, his golden eyes gleaming with triumph.

“Yes—let them stew in their fear. Let them curse the very hand that saved them. The rift deepens. Soon, they will beg for his death—and it will be their own blade that delivers it. ”

The shadows writhed with laughter, their echoes carrying across the wasteland.

By noon, the city boiled over.

The eastern square filled with civilians shouting, fists raised, voices trembling between grief and rage. Mothers clutched children, merchants waved ruined ledgers, wounded men leaned on crutches and spat curses.

“He’s the reason half our district is ash. ”

“Better the flame die than all of us. ”

The crowd surged like a storm, pressing against the line of soldiers struggling to hold them back.

Aris stood at the front, saber drawn but lowered. Sweat streaked her brow as she faced her own people, their eyes burning with fear.

“Enough. ” she shouted, her voice cutting through the noise. “You want someone to blame? Blame the demons that tore your homes apart—not the man who stopped them. ”

But her words only twisted into fuel.

“He fights like them. ”

“He is one of them. ”

“You protect him because you’ve already turned. ”

The soldiers flinched as the riot grew, their discipline faltering.

High above on the broken tower, Arata watched, cigarette between his lips, his let the corner of his mouth quirk sharp and faintly amused.

“—Heh. They’re quicker than I thought. Took less than a day to go from prayers to pitchforks. ”

His Draconic Eyes focused—glowed faint behind his shades, catching every face, every trembling word. He exhaled smoke into the wind. “—Guess monsters are easier to blame than truths. ”

In the Council Chamber, the shouting continued, echoing even into the streets.

“This city won’t survive another night with him inside its walls. ”

“Exile him now. ”

“No—execution. Before he burns us all. ”

A governor slammed his fist against the table. “If the people riot harder, we won’t even have soldiers left to fight the demons. Bind the flame permanently—whatever it takes. ”

The decision teetered on the edge of madness.

Far beyond the walls, the Crowned Demon’s golden eyes gleamed, his laughter soft but sharp as knives.

“Yes—curse your savior. Drive him from your gates. When the flame stands alone, the city will be mine without a fight. ”

The black fire roared higher, shadows writhing with hunger.

The trap tightened.

Stones flew. Soldiers raised shields as civilians surged against them, fists striking steel, screams shaking the air. Blood splattered across the cobblestones, smoke curling from torches snatched from the walls.

“You’re protecting a monster. ”

“Aris has betrayed us. ”

“Drive them both out before the city burns. ”

The line of soldiers faltered. They weren’t facing demons—they were facing their families, their neighbors, their children. Discipline cracked under the weight of fear.

Aris stood in the center, saber flashing as she parried a torch swung toward her face. She shoved the attacker back with the flat of her blade, shouting above the chaos.

“Enough. You want him gone? You’ll have to cut me down first. ”

Her words stopped some—but enraged others. The mob’s voices rose louder, sharper.

“She’s turned. ”

“She fights for him, not us. ”

“Kill her with the monster. ”

Her chest heaved, her grip on her saber tightening. Damn it—it’s slipping out of control.

Then the air shifted.

A wave of heat rolled through the square, silencing screams. Torches guttered out, stones cracked beneath the sudden pressure.

All eyes turned upward.

Arata descended from the ruins of the broken tower, his crimson coat trailing in the hot wind, his silver hair glimmering in the light of smoldering fires. His katana burned faintly at his side, every step echoing against the cobblestones.

The crowd froze. Soldiers lowered blades. Civilians staggered back.

Arata’s thin smile curved sharp, bitter. He stopped at the center of the square, his Draconic Eyes glowing faint behind the shades. His voice carried low but clear, slicing through the silence.

“—You riot, you scream, you throw stones,thinking that makes you brave. But the second the demons come, you’ll hide behind the same walls I keep from falling. ”

He lifted his head, gaze sweeping across them. “—So go on. Hate me. Curse me. Call me a monster. Doesn’t change the fact that without me, you’d already be ash. ”

The square held its breath, the crowd trembling under the weight of his words.

But fear is stronger than truth.

“—He admits it. ”

“—He is a monster. ”

“—We can’t survive with him here. ”

The whispers swelled again, sharper than ever.

Far beyond the walls, the Crowned Demon’s laughter echoed through black fire, his golden eyes burning brighter.

“Yes—speak, flame. Every word you spit only sharpens their fear. Soon, they will beg for your death louder than for salvation. ”

The city’s trust burned to ash.

The council’s bells rang over the square, cutting through the roar of the crowd.

From the balcony above, governors stepped forward, their robes scorched, their faces pale with exhaustion—but their voices carried like judgment.

“Enough. This city will not burn from within. ”

“The flame has brought us victory—but also ruin. ”

“To preserve order—Renji Arata will be exiled. ”

The words struck harder than stone. The crowd gasped, then erupted.

“Drive the monster out. ”

“Finally, we’re safe. ”

Fear turned into cheers, relief spilling through trembling voices. For the first time since dawn, the mob sounded united.

Aris whipped around, fury flashing in her eyes. She shouted up at the balcony, her saber raised high.

“Exile him and you doom us all. He’s the only reason this city still stands. ”

But her words were drowned in the tide. The governors ignored her, their decision sealed by the will of the people.

The soldiers tightened their ranks, this time not against civilians—but to prepare to march Arata out.

And in the center of it all, Arata stood still.

He let out a small, lopsided smile faintly, sharp and amused, though his voice carried bitter edges. “—Exile, huh? Guess that’s better than chains. Must’ve taken all night to come up with that one. ”

He flicked ash from his cigarette, his Draconic Eyes burning faint behind the shades. “—Fine. I’ll go. I’ve been carrying this city long enough. ”

Gasps rippled through the square at his easy acceptance.

“—He agreed. ”

“—He’s leaving. ”

“—Maybe we are safe now. ”

But Aris froze, staring at him. Why so willing? Why no fight?

His gave a wry smile lingered, but behind it she caught something else. Something heavier.

He’s not just leaving the city. He’s leaving them to prove something.

Far beyond the walls, the Crowned Demon’s laughter echoed in the black fire, his golden eyes gleaming with delight.

“Yes—exile your savior. Push him into the dark. When your walls fall and you call for him, he will not return as a man but as fire that consumes. ”

The trap neared its end.

The gates opened to the sound of cheers.

Civilians packed the streets, their voices a storm of curses and relief. Soldiers lined the path, their armor scorched, their eyes fixed anywhere but on the man they escorted.

And at the center walked Arata.

Chains no longer bound him, but the weight of every gaze pressed heavier than iron. His crimson coat dragged in the dust, his katana slung at his side, silver hair glinting in the morning light. His wry smile curved faint, sharp, bitter.

“—Funny, ” he muttered, cigarette between his lips. “Never thought my farewell parade would look this pathetic. ”

The crowd’s voices cut sharper than steel.

“Get out of our city. ”

“Burn in the wasteland where you belong. ”

Some hurled stones. Others spat. None dared step too close.

Arata’s Draconic Eyes glowed faint behind his shades, catching every trembling face, every hateful word. He exhaled smoke into the jeers, his voice low, amused.

“—All this noise, and still not one of you is brave enough to swing a blade. ”

On the wall above, Aris stood rigid, her saber at her side. Her jaw clenched as she watched the man who had saved them more times than she could count walk alone into exile.

Damn you, council. Damn you all.

Her chest burned with the weight of choice. Stay with the city that had raised her, or follow the flame that had been cast aside.

The gates closed behind Arata with a groan of iron, sealing him out. The crowd’s cheers faded into whispers, then silence.

He stood on the wasteland road, cigarette smoldering, fire restless in his chest. His let the corner of his mouth quirk curved sharper, dangerous.

“—Exile me, huh? Fine. Let’s see how long you last without your monster. ”

He flicked the cigarette into the dust, the ember glowing faint in the wind.

And without looking back, he walked into the wasteland.

Far beyond the ruins, the Crowned Demon’s golden eyes burned with delight.

“Yes—perfect. Cast him into the dark. Let him wander alone. When your walls fall, he will not return as savior. He will return as the flame that devours. ”

The game neared its end.

The wasteland welcomed him with silence.

Dust stretched endless, broken only by the charred bones of old battlefields. The air carried the stench of ash, the sky bruised with smoke that never faded.

Arata walked alone, his crimson coat whipping in the dry wind, cigarette glowing faint at his lips. His katana rested across his shoulder, cracks still glowing faint with fire.

“—Exiled, huh? ” he muttered, thin smile curling sharp. “All they really did was give me room to breathe. ”

The first demons came at dusk.

They rose from the black sands, claws clicking, eyes glowing red. A pack of twisted beasts, hungry for flesh, charging with roars that shook the air.

His katana blazed, fire surging white-hot as he cut through the first wave. One swing split three in half, their bodies turning to ash before they hit the ground. He spun, his coat trailing fire, his let out a small, lopsided smile sharp.

“—Pathetic. You’re not even warm-up material. ”

Flames erupted from his body, devouring the pack in seconds. The wasteland glowed molten, then fell silent again.

Night fell, and with it more demons. Stronger. Faster. Some bore wings of shadow, others armored hides that deflected steel.

Arata fought them all the same. His fire roared higher with each clash, his strikes sharper, heavier. The wasteland shook under his steps, scorched black by his fury.

By dawn, a mountain of ash surrounded him. His chest heaved, his knuckles dripped blood, but his gave a wry smile lingered.

“—Guess exile isn’t so boring after all. ”

Back in the city, silence spread heavier than smoke.

The people cheered the night before, but morning brought dread. The walls were cracked, the eastern district still smoldering, and the demon drums echoed faint from beyond the plains.

Aris stood in the Council Chamber, her saber at her side, her voice sharp as steel.

“You’ve exiled the only shield we had. If the horde comes again, this city won’t survive a single night. ”

The governors shouted back, clinging to fear.

“Then we’ll fight alone. ”

“We can’t depend on him anymore. ”

“He’ll return to burn us all. ”

Their words twisted into noise, but Aris heard only one truth.

They’ve already chosen death. The only choice left is mine.

Far beyond the ruins, the Crowned Demon watched both the city and the wandering flame. His golden eyes gleamed, his smile cruel.

“Yes—let him burn the wasteland, let his fire grow unchecked. When he returns, he will no longer be their savior. He will be the very doom they feared. ”

The trap closed tighter.