The Guardian of Hell

“THE FAUSTIAN BARGAIN!!”

The moment Krooke shouted the answer, the world around them seemed to be frozen as they thought that death had come.

The viscous slime that had been dripping endlessly from above halted mid-fall. A few delayed drops splashed softly against the floor, and then—nothing. Absolute stillness enveloped the chamber.

Chiemon’s voice echoed calmly through the silence.

“Correct answer. Well done.”

At once, the slime began to retreat, draining away through the pores in the floor. The pressure restraining their bodies dissolved, and movement returned to their limbs.

Chiemon did not stop there.

The living door shifted, his presence rippling through the chamber. Small circular openings formed along the walls, carved open by his power. A sudden surge of hot air blasted through them, sweeping across the room. The heat loosened the slime clinging to their clothes and skin, drying it instantly as it peeled away and fell uselessly to the ground.

Their clothes were no longer heavy or soaked. They were dry.

Then Chiemon began to open.

The massive doorway that was his body slowly parted, revealing the passage ahead.

Shinzo finally broke the silence.

“Dude! Krooke!” he exclaimed, rushing toward him. “What got into you?! Why were you just frozen in place?!”

Krooke didn’t respond.

Hiroshi stepped forward, raising a hand to calm Shinzo. “Take it easy,” he said. “Maybe he was just thinking. The riddle was tricky.”

He hesitated, his gaze shifting toward Krooke. “But… there’s something I don’t understand. Why did Chiemon call you the Cursed Child?”

Krooke slowly turned.

His eyes met Hiroshi’s directly.

For a brief moment, the world felt heavier.

“Some things,” Krooke said quietly, “are not meant to be talked about.”

He turned away. “Let’s continue.”

Without waiting, he walked through the doorway.

Hiroshi and Shinzo remained behind, watching his back disappear ahead of them. Questions crowded their minds—too many, too sharp, and none with answers.

As Krooke walked, his fists clenched tightly.

“I must forget my past,” he told himself.

“It weakens me.”

But the memory did not obey.

The vision crashed into him without mercy.

The same room.

Cold. White. Suffocating.

The same woman lay on the hospital bed, her skin pale, her chest unnaturally still. Tubes and wires clung to her like restraints, and above her, the ECG pulsed weakly—each sound dragging itself forward.

Beep… Beep… Beep…

Hope, thin and fragile.

Then the rhythm stuttered.

A long, piercing tone tore through the air.

At that same instant, a cry rang out.

A newborn’s cry—raw, desperate, alive.

It grew louder with every breath, filling the room, drowning the flatline that followed. Life screaming its arrival while death claimed its due.

He felt it now.

The weight in his chest.

The guilt he never chose.

The truth he was born into.

Krooke’s jaw tightened. His fists clenched harder as he forced the image away, pushing himself forward into the next chamber.

Behind him, Hiroshi was just looking at him go away, thinking about his mental state.

“He’s tense,” he thought. “Is this… trauma?”

Shinzo felt it too, unease creeping into his chest.

“Krooke’s acting strange… I might be wrong, but… maybe the riddle reminded him of something he’s been trying to forget.”

Their thoughts were cut short by Krooke’s voice echoing from ahead.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Come quick, slowpokes! Come and take a look!”

Hiroshi and Shinzo exchanged a glance before rushing forward, leaving their questions behind—for now.

They stepped inside together.

The moment all three crossed the threshold, the door behind them shut on its own. Stone slid seamlessly into place, merging with the walls as if the entrance had never existed. There was no handle left behind. No seam. No way back.

The room they found themselves in was small—and unnervingly white. Every surface reflected the light evenly, leaving no shadows to hide in. It felt artificial, sterile, almost wrong.

At the far end stood a blue, portal-like doorway, its surface shimmering faintly. Beside it, carved crudely into the wall, was a single word:

EXIT

Several arrows surrounded it, their jagged edges and uneven depth betraying their origin. Human hands. Someone had been here before.

Next to the portal stood another door—solid, black, and ordinary. Too ordinary.

Shinzo and Hiroshi glanced at the blue portal for only a heartbeat.

Then, without a word, they turned toward the black door.

As they pushed it open, Krooke felt it.

A sudden pull.

His steps slowed, his body hesitating as his eyes drifted back to the glowing portal behind them. For a brief moment, the thought crossed his mind—What if…?

His fists clenched tightly.

“No,” he told himself. “What am I thinking… Don’t be selfish, Krooke.”

Grinding his teeth, he turned away and followed them.

Together, they entered the final room.

Darkness swallowed them whole.

The chamber was vast—easily the size of a football field—and entirely black from within. The heat hit them instantly. To the right of the entrance lay a massive pool of lava, its surface churning violently. To the far left, another glowed just as fiercely.

Between them, the floor was fractured with deep cracks, molten streams flowing like veins, connecting one pool to the other. The air shimmered from the heat, thick and oppressive.

Shinzo let out a low whistle.

“Damn… Now this place really lives up to its name,” he muttered. “Hell.”

Hiroshi barely heard him.

His eyes were fixed on the far end of the chamber.

There stood a golden door.

It was enormous—towering, radiant, and intricately carved with elegant curves and lines that shimmered in the lava’s glow. Unlike everything else in the room, it felt untouched. Sacred.

Hiroshi frowned.

“Wait… This is the last room,” he said slowly. “And that golden door should lead to Ryumi.”

He hesitated. “But… do we really just walk straight through this? Like… that’s it?”

Krooke narrowed his eyes, scanning the ground.

“As far as my instincts about these places go, we—”

“—cannot pass that easily,” Shinzo cut in confidently. “Trust me.”

Both Hiroshi and Krooke turned toward him.

“It’s obvious,” Shinzo continued. “The moment we reach the exact middle, something bad happens. A trap. A collapse. Some Indiana Jones–type nonsense.”

He gestured toward the lava. “And knowing our luck, a lava monster pops out and tries to kill us.”

Krooke blinked.

“And… how do you know that?”

“Yeah,” Hiroshi added. “How can you be so sure?”

Shinzo stared at them, utterly unimpressed.

“Have you guys never watched movies?” he said. “Like… Hollywood? Anything?”

Hiroshi clicked his tongue and looked away. Krooke shook his head.

Shinzo sighed.

“Knew it.”

With that, the three of them began walking forward—straight into the heart of Hell.

Hiroshi and Krooke walked forward without much concern, their steps steady and unguarded. Shinzo, however, moved very differently.

He hopped.

One step here.

A careful jump there.

Then another.

Hiroshi glanced sideways at him, visibly confused.

“What are you doing?”

Shinzo didn’t stop moving.

“Oh, nothing,” he replied sarcastically. “This place is definitely not filled with traps, so I just thought I’d try being a rabbit hopping around in a lava garden.”

He suddenly paused.

Turning around slowly, he stared at Hiroshi and Krooke, who were both looking at him with identical expressions—somewhere between confusion and disbelief.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK I’M DOING?!” Shinzo snapped.

Krooke sighed. “Just shut up and do whatever pleases you, dumbass.”

Shinzo scoffed.

“Just wait till you beg me to save your sorry asses.” he muttered.

They continued forward.

Step by step, they crossed the cracked floor, the glow of lava flickering beneath their feet. And then—just as Shinzo had predicted—they reached the exact middle of the room.

Suddenly—

RUMBLE!

The ground shook violently beneath them. The entire chamber trembled, roaring like an awakening beast. Boulders began crashing down from the ceiling—pure black, heavy, and endless.

The stones didn’t scatter.

They piled up.

At first, it looked like a massive mound—a single boulder formed from countless smaller ones. But then it shifted. Rearranged. Rose.

A shape began to emerge.

Something humanoid.

Lava surged from the cracks in the floor, flowing unnaturally toward the stone body. The once-raging lava pools drained completely, their molten contents crawling upward and filling the cracks in the creature’s form.

The thing came alive.

Crimson lava pulsed through the fractures covering its body, illuminating the chamber with an eerie glow. Its eyes burned like twin infernos. Its massive hands alone were the size of a human torso, and it towered nearly twice as tall as Hiroshi.

Shinzo slowly turned around.

He faced Hiroshi and Krooke with a strange, exhausted expression.

“So…” he said, rubbing the back of his head, “I’ve got two things to say.”

He sighed. “First—I was correct.”

Another sigh followed. “Second… our luck is horrible, and we’re absolutely doomed.”

Before either of them could respond—

ROAR!

The lava golem bellowed, its voice shaking the chamber to its core.

“Welcome, survivors…” it growled, its tone dark and grotesque. “I am pleased to inform you that your survival ends here.”

The molten cracks across its body flared brighter.

“I am Belial, the Guardian of Hell.”

It raised its massive arms, lava dripping from its fists like blood.

“Prepare for your demise.”

Belial struck first.

Both of his massive arms came crashing down with overwhelming force, the air screaming as they descended. The ground beneath them shattered on impact.

Hiroshi, Krooke, and Shinzo leapt sideways at the last possible moment, heat washing over their backs as molten rock exploded upward.

Hiroshi twisted midair and landed hard, already forming his next move.

“EMBER BURST—MULTISHOT!”

Hundreds of blue-orange embers erupted from him, streaking across the chamber like a blazing storm. They slammed into Belial’s massive body one after another.

Belial didn’t even flinch.

He stood still and took every hit.

The embers reacted violently with his molten form, his lava shifting color—blue and orange swirling unnaturally through the cracks of his body.

FWAHAHAHAHAHA!

Belial’s laughter thundered through the chamber, manic and delighted.

“So much raw power!” he roared. “You nourish me!”

The molten glow across his body intensified. He was growing stronger.

Shinzo’s eyes widened.

“I think you just gave him accidental steroids,” he shouted. “He absorbed your attack! Avoid flame-based moves at all costs!”

Krooke stepped forward calmly, blades already humming in his hands.

“Stay put,” he said. “I’ll handle him myself.”

Shinzo stared at him.

“Huh? How? You don’t even have special powers!”

Krooke didn’t look back.

“Neither do you,” he replied coolly. “And maybe… you’re underestimating me.”

With a sharp metallic ring, he drew both red katanas.

Hiroshi clenched his fists.

“And maybe you’re underestimating me,” he shot back. “What makes you think fire is my only power?”

Krooke didn’t listen.

He moved.

“DEVOURING SLASHES!”

Krooke dashed forward in a blur, leaping high—straight to the level of Belial’s head. His twin katanas flashed together, carving rapid, intersecting arcs across the golem’s face.

Belial roared and swung wildly, trying to swat him away.

Krooke twisted midair and kicked off the golem’s arm, flipping backward and landing safely as the massive hand slammed into the ground.

Hiroshi seized the opening.

“PREDATOR POUNCE!”

He launched himself upward, daggers gleaming. In a single fluid motion, he drove both blades straight into Belial’s head—deep enough to crack stone—then ripped them free and leapt away before the Belial could strike.

Belial staggered back, enraged.

“MAGMA BOULDERS!”

He stomped the ground.

The ceiling split open as massive chunks of molten rock tore free and rained down from above. Hiroshi, Krooke, and Shinzo scattered, narrowly dodging the falling inferno.

The boulders didn’t remain scattered.

They crawled.

One by one, they merged back into Belial’s body, restoring his damaged form.

Shinzo clicked his tongue.

“So everyone’s using powers now,” he muttered. “Why should I hold back?”

He raised both blasters, energy surging.

“BULLET RUSH!”

Shinzo aimed straight at Belial’s head and opened fire.

Not bullets.

Plasma.

A relentless barrage of glowing white shots tore through the air, hammering Belial’s face. Holes were punched clean through stone and magma alike, sparks and molten fragments flying in every direction.

Krooke glanced at him mid-fight. “Hidden talents, huh?”

Hiroshi smirked. “He trained with me for a month. I helped him polish most of his aiming skills.”

Shinzo didn’t look away from his target. “And I greatly appreciate that.”

Before they could press the advantage, Belial’s voice boomed again—furious this time.

“Enough blabbering!”

The lava within his body surged violently.

“LAVA GOLEMS!”

Half of Belial’s molten mass tore itself free, slamming into the ground around him. One by one, forms rose from the lava.

Twelve figures.

Each burning.

Each alive.

“I’ll take care of the golems,” Hiroshi said firmly. “You two focus on Belial.”

Without hesitation, Krooke and Shinzo shifted their footing, muscles tensing as they readied themselves.

Krooke slammed his hand against the ground.

“VAMPIRIC SPIKES!”

The floor shuddered.

Hundreds of bloody-red spikes erupted violently from beneath Belial, piercing through his massive body from every direction. The spikes twisted and hooked into his form, pinning the golem in place as molten lava spilled from the wounds.

Shinzo didn’t waste a second.

“CALIBUR STORM!”

He pulled both triggers.

A raging storm of plasma bullets burst forth, spiraling like a cyclone of light and destruction. The barrage slammed into Belial relentlessly, explosions rippling across his trapped body.

At the same time, Hiroshi moved.

“WOLF’S DASH—MULTISLASH!”

He vanished in a blur.

Hiroshi tore through the battlefield, weaving between the smaller lava golems with feral speed. His blades flashed repeatedly, severing heads cleanly as molten bodies collapsed behind him one after another.

The chamber thundered with impact.

Shinzo’s plasma storm engulfed Belial completely.

One by one, the lava golems collapsed.

Belial’s massive form thudded heavily against the ground.

Silence followed.

Hiroshi staggered.

The moment his attack ended, his legs buckled slightly. A crushing heaviness spread through his body, his muscles locking up as if bound by invisible chains. Every movement felt delayed—wrong.

Shinzo let out a breath of relief.

“Easy win!”

But the words hadn’t even settled—

The lava began to move.

The molten remains of the fallen golems crawled across the floor, flowing unnaturally toward Belial’s broken body. They merged into him, rebuilding his form piece by piece.

Shinzo’s face drained of color.

“…I absolutely take my words back.”

Belial rose again.

“EARTHQUAKE!”

He stomped.

The entire chamber convulsed violently. Cracks spread across the ground as spurts of lava burst upward. The ceiling groaned—then shattered.

Huge chunks of rock crashed down, pinning Shinzo and Krooke beneath the rubble. Both struggled, immobilized.

Belial turned.

His burning gaze locked onto Hiroshi.

“Time for you.”

In an instant, boulders from his own body fused together, forming a massive stone mace in his grasp.

“MACE SWEEP!”

The weapon tore through the air, swinging straight toward Hiroshi’s head.

Hiroshi tried to move.

His body didn’t respond.

“I can’t move...”

His legs trembled uselessly.

“It’s not worth it… I’ll die here.”

The realization struck cold and absolute.

“I haven't used physical combat moves since long,” he thought desperately. “My body relies on fire... Using that last move drained everything.“

”I can’t even move my legs… This is the end…”

The mace closed in.

Then—

“HIROSHI! SAVE YOURSELF!!” Krooke screamed.

“JUMP! HIROSHI! JUMP!!” Shinzo shouted desperately.

Their voices cut through the fog of despair—

—but his body still refused to move.

The mace stopped.

It hovered inches from Hiroshi’s head, its scorching heat burning against his skin—but it did not fall.

Belial’s grip loosened.

“…Wait,” the golem muttered slowly. “What name did you say?”

The massive weapon dissolved, crumbling backward into molten stone and merging with Belial’s body once more.

“Hiroshi…?”

Belial stiffened.

“Oh my!” he exclaimed suddenly. “I was about to make a grave mistake!”

The towering golem lowered himself—and bowed.

“Lord Hiroshi, I sincerely apologize,” Belial said deeply. “I failed to recognize you. I mistook you for some strangely powered Varkonians.”

Hiroshi felt the paralysis fade from his limbs, sensation rushing back all at once.

“Wait—what?!” he blurted.

Belial straightened, his molten eyes softer now.

“Do you remember me?” he asked. “When Master Bajuro taught you the art of granting life to the lifeless… you once created a small golem.”

Hiroshi’s breath caught. “You are that small golem I made..?”

“Yes... I am that golem,” Belial continued. “Master Bajuro placed me here to guard this place from any who dared enter.”

Hiroshi stared. “…So you were the one controlling the maze?”

Belial shook his massive head.

“No. The maze functions entirely on Master Bajuro’s static magic.”

Shinzo frowned.

“Static magic?” he repeated. “The kind that continues even after the caster’s death?”

Belial nodded.

“Exactly. But… how do you know this?”

Shinzo smirked.

“I learned it from Majuro.”

Krooke stiffened.

“Wait…” he said quietly. “You met my grandfather?”

Shinzo froze. “…Oh.”

He scratched his head awkwardly. “Yeah. Actually, I trained with him for an entire month. Alongside Hiroshi.”

Krooke looked away, his expression dimming. “…Th-that’s great.”

Silence settled over the chamber.

Then Belial spoke again.

“Well,” he said, straightening. “Lets get Miss Ryumi out of that place. I have the key.”

He reached behind his back.

And paused. “…Wait.”

His voice sharpened. “Where did the key go?”

Chink!

A metallic sound echoed through the chamber.

From the shadows emerged two figures.

Yataro stood at the front, casually spinning a golden key around his finger. Jinah walked beside him, her expression unreadable.

“Looking for this?” Yataro asked with a grin.

Shinzo and Krooke shouted together, voices filled with shock and fury.

“TYRANTS!!”

Krooke’s eyes burned.

“So it was you two,” he snarled. “You’re the ones I sensed!”

Belial stepped forward.

“Do not worry,” he rumbled. “I will handle them.”

Yataro tilted his head, amused.

“Oh? Really?”

He extended his hand.

“DARKNESS SPHERE!”

A black orb formed instantly—dense, absolute, devouring light itself. He released it.

It struck Belial.

There was no explosion.

No struggle.

In a single moment, Belial shattered into thousands of fragments, scattering across the ground like lifeless stone.

Yataro laughed softly.

“I’ll handle them,” he mocked, imitating Belial’s deep voice.

“Destroyed in an instant.”

He turned his gaze to Hiroshi, smile fading into something colder.

“Now it’s your turn,” Yataro said. “And this time—no wall will save you.”

He lunged.

“DRAIN PUNCH!”

Yataro hurled himself forward, fist glowing with sinister energy, killing intent flooding the air, his punch directly aimed for Hiroshi.

“Die, brat!!”

To Be Continued…