The blade stopped. The demon looked around—its hand was completely stuck, not on anything physical, but as if time itself had frozen just for that limb. It raised its bleeding arm and lifted its bladed hand, but nothing happened. It raised the other bladed appendage, which moved freely, but the first one remained frozen in place. Confusion rippled through the creature's massive form as it stood there in the cave, its red eyes boring holes into the woman who lay on her back, staring up at it.
She could barely believe she still had the energy to restrain this thing. This demon had grown far too strong since the last time they had fought. The realization sent a chill through her exhausted body.
Suddenly, purple mist surrounded the demon. Something emerged from that swirling fog—a figure draped in shadowy robes, its body nothing but a bony structure with black fingers and hollow, dead eyes.
"This is the only trump card I have," Arthur thought desperately. "I hope it works. I have to hope it works."
If he couldn't break free from the chains binding him, he might as well use the one other weapon at his disposal. Jack raised his bony, dark hand, and a purple glow began to surround it. A ball of energy formed around each of his five fingers, and eventually they merged into one large, pulsating sphere. Jack held the massive orb in his skeletal hands, its light casting eerie shadows across the cave walls.
The demon stared, then tried to rush behind Jack. But the moment its muscles tensed for movement, the purple ball shot forward. The orb flew straight and true. The demon tried to duck, tried to dodge, tried anything—but it was simply too slow. The beam struck it directly in the forehead, obliterating nearly half of the cave in the process. A blinding purple light followed the assault, and when it finally faded, half the cavern had vanished.
The monster's body had been nearly severed from its legs, which still stood upright for a moment before the torso toppled to the ground and began to melt away. Its bladed hands disappeared as well, dissolving into nothingness.
The woman stood slowly, staring up at Jack. He gazed down at her with hollow, unthinking eyes that somehow still conveyed awareness.
"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice hoarse with exhaustion and gratitude.
"You are welcome," Jack replied in a deep, growling voice—barely intelligible, but the woman had heard many beasts speak before. She understood what he was trying to say.
Jack soon disappeared into purple mist, which flowed back into Arthur's chest, transforming once more into the black skull marking. The woman looked up at the boy, her expression filled with wonder and disbelief.
She hadn't thought Arthur would be able to produce such a powerful entity. Looking at his small frame, she realized the boy could only be a child—barely seven or eight years old. How could someone so young command such power? The question troubled her even as relief washed over her.
Mary lay right beside Arthur, still bound in chains. She couldn't produce any magic from her body; the chains suppressed both their magical abilities and their physical strength. Even together, they couldn't have done anything. It had been a fleeting hope at best.
The woman stood up fully and grabbed her greatsword. She walked forward toward both of them, her steps unsteady but determined.
"Even though I'm beat up and don't have much energy left, I might be able to cut these chains for you," she said, her voice carrying a warmth that hadn't been there before.
She lifted her blade and brought it down on the first chain. It split, breaking apart and falling to the ground with a metallic clatter. Arthur was free. Without hesitation, she moved toward Mary. She walked forward and cut through Mary's chains with a single, powerful stroke. Mary's body fell to the ground, but she quickly pushed herself back up.
She stared at her son, and Arthur stared back at her. Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them—relief, love, and the weight of what they had just survived.
The woman observed them both, watching this silent exchange, and she smiled. It was a genuine smile, one that softened her battle-worn features. She glanced at the gaping hole where the demon had sliced through the stone moments before.
"I'll be taking my leave now," she said, her tone lighter despite her exhaustion.
She hefted her greatsword onto her shoulder and walked toward the cave's entrance. But before she reached the opening, she froze mid-step. Her body went rigid, her eyes widening in horror as she stared into the darkness beyond.
"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It can't be."
Arthur felt it too—a presence so overwhelming, so ancient and malevolent, that the demon they'd just defeated seemed like nothing more than a child's toy in comparison. The temperature in the cave plummeted. Frost began creeping across the walls.
Mary grabbed Arthur's arm, her fingers digging into his flesh. "Arthur, we need to run. Now."
But there was nowhere to run. The entrance was blocked by a shadow that seemed to devour the light itself. Two eyes—burning with an unholy crimson fire—emerged from the darkness, fixing their gaze directly on Arthur.
The black skull marking on his chest began to burn.
Arthur gasped as searing pain shot through his body. He didn't summon Jack this time—Jack came willingly, tearing free from his chest in an explosion of purple mist. The skeletal figure materialized between Arthur and the shadow, its hollow eyes blazing with defiance.
The woman's face went pale. "My escape route," she breathed, staring at the blocked entrance. She had planned to leave, to hunt for more monsters, to gather new equipment. Now that path was sealed.
Jack didn't wait. Purple beams erupted from his hands, blinding in their intensity, each one powerful enough to level a fortress. They struck the shadow with tremendous force.
And did absolutely nothing.
The shadow absorbed every beam, drinking in the purple energy like a parched traveler at an oasis. With each absorbed attack, the darkness began to glow—a sickly, pulsating luminescence that grew brighter and brighter.
Arthur's blood turned to ice as he realized the horrible truth.
They weren't weakening it.
They were feeding it.
The shadow stepped forward, and the entire cave trembled. A voice—ancient, cruel, and utterly inhuman—echoed from the darkness:
"At last... I've found you, boy."