The Damned Demon

Chapter 910: Burden Of The Damned

Amidst the haunting silence of a ruined, forgotten timeline, a massive structure lay shattered and lifeless beneath a crimson sky. Burnt, charred bodies littered the ground, twisted remnants of lives snuffed out in an instant. The scent of death lingered heavily, thick and acrid, a grim remnant to the tragedy that unfolded here.

Inside the desolate hall stood an enormous broken capsule, the glass door violently torn off, shattered fragments scattered across the floor. Within it lay a pale, emaciated man whose skin clung sickeningly to his bones. Veins pulsed faintly beneath translucent skin, making him seem more corpse than living human. His eyes, faded to dull gray, struggled to remain open as life drained from him with every ragged breath.

Kneeling before this dying man was a towering figure with dove-gray skin and thick gray beard, streaked with blood and tears. His powerful frame trembled with anguish, shoulders hunched beneath an unbearable burden. Beside him rested a sinister, long crimson sword pulsing ominously with dark energy, radiating a faint hum as if echoing the sorrow that enveloped its wielder.

“Father…” the dying man murmured weakly, his voice barely a whisper. His fading gaze sought desperately to catch the dove-gray figure’s attention.

Asher slowly raised his head, dark yellow eyes reddened by unshed tears, overflowing with agony and reluctance. The mere sight of his son, Arthur, suffering in such a state tore his soul apart. “Arthur, no…I could never do that to you… I would rather die than burden you with such a fate.”

Arthur’s pale lips parted in a weak but resolute line, shaking his head feebly, “Please…you have to do this…it’s the only way to release you from this curse.” His voice cracked with the weight of his plea. “Remember what Mother told us? We can’t let her death…be for nothing…She died for us…We can’t fail her…”

Asher’s fingers clenched, pressing into the ground with such force that fissures spread through the solid stone, reflecting the torment in his heart. He shook his head violently, eyes squeezed shut against the pain.

“I…I can’t hold on much longer…” Arthur pleaded softly, voice growing fainter. “You must do it now…before it’s too late. It’s alright, Father…I will wait for you. At least I’ll get to see you again, and help you save everyone. That’s all I’ve ever wanted…So help me do it.”

Asher exhaled sharply, the shuddering breath carrying the full force of his internal agony. Slowly, he stood, fists trembling, and gently grasped his son’s weak, cold hand. His voice broke even as he spoke firmly, determination etched into every syllable. “I failed you as a father and everyone in this life…but I will not fail in the next. That’s a promise I intend to keep. Ensure I do that, Arthur…no matter what it takes, even if it kills me.”

Arthur weakly nodded as he gripped his father’s hand with all the strength left in his body.

With a mournful yet resolved look, Asher declared in a voice resonating with dark, forbidden power, “I now bestow upon you my curse…the power of the damned…”

His hand erupted in blinding, dark-green energy, seizing Arthur’s frail body. Arthur’s frame spasmed violently, his anguished scream echoing through the halls, reverberating through the very bones of the structure. “AAAHHHH!!”

A violent vortex of dark-green energy spiraled between father and son, rattling the foundations of their reality.

Asher’s eyes glowed fiercely, matching the power he unleashed, “You will now live forever, Arthur…as long as my mana envelops you. Nothing can kill you. Nothing can harm your bones. Your soul will burn in solitude, but I—I will find you…and I shall free you from this curse. Until then, forgive me for condemning you to this damned fate, my son.”

“ARGHHHHHHH!!!”

Arthur’s agonizing scream intensified as his flesh blackened and burned, skin peeling away to reveal charred, scorched bones beneath. Dark green flames erupted from his empty sockets, solidifying his transformation into something both tragic and eternal.

The echoes of that agonizing scream faded as the scene shifted through time, arriving in the present, within the ancient underground ruins.

—

Lori slithered rapidly into the dark room, her cowboy hat slightly askew atop her serpentine head, a hiss escaping her lips in frustration, “SSSS! That little brat just vanished into thin air! You must help us find her!” Her voice trembled with unease, gaze settling upon Skully, who stood silently within the enormous glass box beside a pristine white coffin.

Skully didn’t bother turning, his voice hollow and empty, “You don’t have to worry about her.”

Lori blinked, disbelief contorting her face. “You can’t be ssserious! Even if she’s a little monster, sssshe cannot face the real monsters out there alone. We received a not-so happy message from his women. Something is deeply wrong—I feel it in my scalessss! If you do nothing, what if something terrible happens to him and his people?”

Skully’s response remained disturbingly impassive, his tone cold as a crypt. “Then let it happen.”

Lori recoiled, stunned. “You—you don’t care if they die? Why torment him with all that training then? Why go to such lengths? What wassss the point?”

“He has to die,” Skully uttered simply, his voice carrying chilling finality. “It’s the only way.”

“Thissss won’t do,” Lori hissed angrily, slithering forward with irritation. Yet, abruptly, Valeria appeared before her, blocking her path. Her voice was coldly indifferent, “My master has conveyed his wishes. You should leave.”

Lori hissed in irritation, contemplating cursing the undead bag of bones, but eventually slithered away angrily, realizing any further attempt would be futile.

After Lori’s departure, Skully gently brushed his skeletal fingers against the white coffin, a glint of sorrow passing through his hollow sockets. “Mother, you have been waiting too long, haven’t you? I’ll see you soon,” he whispered.

As Skully moved to leave, Valeria stepped hesitantly forward, voice subtly quivering despite its usual calm tone. “Master…”

He paused, slowly turning towards her. “Your obligations to me end today. I will no longer be your master. You’ve served me faithfully, Valeria, and for all you’ve sacrificed…I am truly sorry.”

Valeria’s crimson gaze flickered uncertainly beneath her helmet. “I don’t understand why you’re apologizing, Master. I’ve no regrets. You gave me life when I had none, purpose when there was none to be found. If I truly possessed a soul, I would have made this choice myself.”

Skully’s skeletal hand gently rested on her armored shoulder, the touch oddly comforting despite its eerie appearance. “You never lost your soul, Valeria. Your new master will help you reclaim it. Goodbye, my disciple.”

Valeria stood silently, watching him disappear into shadows, her eyes shining quietly beneath her helmet while Twilight, who was peeking out of her cloak, “Meow…” let out a doleful whimper, staring at the same figure.

—

Not long after, standing before Asher amidst frozen time, Skully slowly approached, the skeletal visage crumbling subtly, green magma fading softly into dust. His voice, ancient yet filled with aching warmth, broke through the stillness, “I have waited so long for this moment…to finally say it—I missed you, Father.”

Asher’s vision blurred with tears, his heart wrenching painfully at those long-awaited words. His legs nearly buckled, shaking violently beneath the surge of raw emotion.

“Arthur…” he whispered in a trembling, heartbroken voice, eyes locked desperately onto the skeletal form of his lost son. “My son…” Asher suddenly remembered fragments of memories, especially one where he burdened his dying son with his damned power.

Never before had he felt his soul getting crushed by such an overwhelming amount of pain and sorrow, realizing what he had done to his own flesh and blood.

How can he ever make this right?

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