The clearing was no longer silent. It throbbed. Each pulse from the shattered altar sent ripples through the ground, making the air itself vibrate with dread. The trees bent away, their branches groaning as if nature itself recoiled from what stood in the center.
Devil's body had landed softly, his feet pressing into the soil like a sovereign claiming his throne. His crimson eyes glowed steady now—no flicker, no hesitation. Calm. Terrifyingly calm.
And then he smiled.
Cold. Sharp. A smile that did not belong to their friend.
"You should have run farther," the voice said, smooth and merciless. It was Devil's mouth, but not Devil's soul.
Rick staggered back, pulling Piu behind him. "This… this isn't you. Fight it!"
But the words were useless.
The ground split wider at the sound of Devil's breath. From the fissures surged shadows shaped like claws and fangs, a tide of nightmares rushing toward them. Sun's dagger slashed desperately, but the blade cut nothing. Each strike dissolved the darkness for only a second before it reformed, hungrier, closer.
"Stay back!" Sun shouted, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him.
The shadows stopped—not because of Sun's blade, but because Devil lifted a hand. The tide froze mid-surge, as if waiting for its master's command. His crimson gaze drifted from one friend to the next, studying them like prey.
Rick's chest burned where Devil's cursed heat had scorched him earlier, but he stepped forward anyway. "If you want blood, take mine. But don't touch them."
Devil tilted his head, amused. "Loyalty… even in the face of death. How quaint."
And then, with a motion quicker than sight, he moved.
One instant he stood in the clearing. The next, he was before Rick, his hand closing around his throat. Rick's body lifted off the ground effortlessly, his feet kicking helplessly. The crimson in Devil's eyes gleamed brighter as Rick choked for air.
"Rick!" Piu screamed, rushing forward—only for shadows to lash out and fling her back into the dirt.
Sun's blade slashed at Devil's arm, but the steel screeched uselessly against skin that now burned like iron from a forge. Devil didn't even flinch. His voice, layered and ancient, filled the clearing.
"Blood does not lie. You are not chosen. You are not mine. He is mine."
He tightened his grip, Rick's face paling as his breaths shortened.
But in that instant—just a flicker—Devil's humanity fought back. His smile faltered. His eyes, for a heartbeat, dimmed. The hand gripping Rick's throat trembled.
"Run…" The whisper was faint, but it was Devil's voice. His true voice.
Rick's eyes widened. Sun didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, slashing the tendrils binding the ground—not to destroy them, but to distract. They recoiled for a heartbeat, enough for Rick to wrench free and collapse to the ground.
"Move!" Sun shouted.
Rick grabbed Piu, dragging her up as they stumbled backward. The crimson glow surged again in Devil's eyes—his hesitation gone. The shadows roared back to life, surging toward them.
They ran.
Branches whipped their faces, roots clawed at their feet, but they didn't look back. The forest bent away from Devil's presence, every tree leaning as though pointing the way of their escape, yet still the whispers followed.
"You cannot run from what you are…"
"You cannot fight the blood…"
"The claim is eternal…"
Rick's lungs burned, Piu sobbed as she clung to his arm, and Sun hacked a desperate path with his useless dagger. Behind them, the earth shook with every step Devil took, slow but inevitable, like the march of a god claiming his due.
And then—
The forest ended.
---
They stumbled out of the tangled forest, lungs burning, hearts slamming against their ribs, only to find the ground vanishing before them. A jagged ridge cut the earth open, and beyond it yawned a vast chasm—a wound carved into the world itself. From its depths pulsed a sinister glow, crimson veins throbbing like the arteries of some monstrous heart. The air reeked of iron and smoke, heavy with the promise of blood.
Rick tightened his grip on Piu's wrist, dragging her to a halt. She nearly screamed at the sight below, the void stretching into eternity, a bottomless grave painted in hellfire light. Sun, panting and pale, raised his dagger though his hand trembled so badly it rattled against the hilt. They had run, they had fought, they had clawed their way through the night, but here—at the edge of the world—there was nowhere left to go.
A whisper of movement stirred behind them.
From the treeline, where the forest shadows writhed like living things, he emerged. Devil.
He did not rush. He did not need to. His steps were slow, deliberate, every footfall making the ground tremble like the world itself feared him. His eyes glowed with an infernal crimson light, twin fires burning steady, merciless, unblinking. His smile was sharp and cruel, as if he had already tasted their despair and found it sweet. The shadows around him twisted like serpents, uncoiling, slithering forward, hungry to consume.
Rick's chest tightened. He pulled Piu closer, as though his arms could shield her from that tide of darkness. Sun staggered backward, feet scraping against loose stone near the cliff's edge. His dagger looked laughably small, a toy held up against a storm.
The air grew colder, heavy with the weight of Devil's presence. The ridge seemed to tilt, the earth itself bowing beneath his will. The glow from the chasm flared brighter, as though answering him, as though the pit itself was alive and listening.
"You can flee," Devil said, his voice low but carrying, echoing across the abyss. It was not a threat—it was a promise already carved in fate. He raised one hand, pale fingers dripping with shadow, and the darkness obeyed like a loyal army.
Black tendrils uncoiled, writhing forward in a wave that devoured light, stone, and air alike. It wasn't merely shadow. It was hunger. It was death, given form.
Rick's legs refused to move. Piu's breath hitched in terror, and Sun could only whisper a broken prayer.
Devil's smile widened, teeth glinting like the edge of a blade. His voice, calm and merciless, rolled out again—words that sealed their doom.
"…but you cannot escape the claim of blood."
The ridge split with a thunderous crack, the ground shattering beneath their feet—yet before they could fall, a single tendril of shadow coiled around Rick's throat, dragging him toward the abyss.
The last thing they heard was Devil's laughter—low, hollow, endless—before the night itself seemed to close its jaws around them.