The Road Through Nightmare

The Soul Marrow Flame burned Toren's corpse into a shrinking husk.

Xilian strode forward along the trail of fire that had yet to die out.

"Once corrupted by Chaos, Soul Marrow takes on properties completely opposite to ordinary Soul Marrow. It gathers and strengthens the power of Chaos. Even the heat of flame turns into a piercing cold."

Xilian reviewed the fight in his mind. "Those favored by Chaos can also transform to some degree, turning themselves into Demon-like monsters."

"And besides..."

Xilian glanced at the faintly glowing tattoo. Just as he had expected, the moment Toren, a Chaos Follower, died, the Ouroboros Mark had finally felt a trace of satisfaction.

His Soul Marrow concentration had risen by a fraction of a percentage point, but the battle had been too fierce for Xilian to examine the change.

At the same time, the Blessing that had yet to take its true form had begun to show a faint outline.

It was with that vague power that Xilian had shattered the shackles of Chaos and struck back.

But...

Xilian looked behind him, worry weighing on his heart.

Through both the fierce fighting earlier and this brief lull, the roars and clashing swords deep in the darkness had never stopped. Nuen's battle with the Deathbird was still going.

Xilian crossed the high wall, now burned to ruins.

Something hung in the shadows like a vast cloud of dust that had risen but could not fall. Sheets of ice crystals coated the ground. Even when a wave of heat swept over them, they formed again within a minute.

White Cliff Town was saturated with the power of Chaos. Xilian's concern shifted from Nuen to the survival of the entire town.

Xilian thought of his friends.

They were ordinary mortals, without the slightest resistance to Chaos. The lightest touch would be enough to corrupt them in an instant.

The clang of blades and the roars grew clearer and clearer, until they sounded close at hand.

Tim watched Torchlight Lighthouse collapse with his own eyes.

If the Burning Wind's assault had merely frightened the townspeople, the fall of Torchlight Lighthouse marked the arrival of despair.

The fortress of light crumbled, and the Grey Fog massed around White Cliff Town came pouring in like a flood through a broken dam.

The torches set along the high wall went out one after another. Buildings on the outskirts vanished into the darkness, leaving only their blurred silhouettes standing.

"The light... the light's gone..."

A trembling townsman pointed at the fallen Torchlight Lighthouse. It still gave off light, but only from the flames burning among the ruins.

For an instant, everyone stopped breathing. Even the searing pain across their bodies went numb.

Seconds later, cries of terror broke out everywhere.

Despair nearly shattered their reason, yet this was only the beginning of the disaster.

Endless Grey Fog surged in from every direction like a black tide. Wherever it passed, it swallowed the light and crushed all life.

Streets, houses and trees twisted and dissolved in the Grey Fog, leaving nothing but Chaos and deathly silence.

Thousands of Demons roared as they crawled out of the Grey Fog. Their forms were horrifying. Some were as massive as boulders, covered in rotting flesh and festering sores; every step they took left the ground corroded by foul-smelling slime. Others resembled twisted vines, their countless tentacles thrashing through the air, bristling with sharp barbs and suckers.

"No... no..."

Amid the cries, a towering Demon charged into the crowd and tore several townspeople to pieces in an instant. Blood and flesh sprayed everywhere.

A father curled over his child to shield him, but a barbed tentacle pierced straight through the father, then drove into the child's chest. Their blood mingled and stained the ground beneath them red.

A young man picked up a weapon and tried to make one last stand. But when he faced a Demon, terror froze him in place. A claw came down, scattering his organs and severed limbs across the ground.

The Demons' roars drowned out the children's cries. They stared wide-eyed as their loved ones were brutally killed, powerless to do anything.

Some fainted and died beneath the Demons' claws without ever knowing it. Others drank deeply of wine in their final moments, trying to numb themselves.

Still others hid in corners in time. They overturned wardrobes and dragged over tables and chairs to brace the doors. Just as they thought they had won a chance to live, they failed to notice the Grey Fog seeping steadily through the cracks and blending into the darkness.

The demons slaughtered the townspeople at will. Blood ran in rivers through the streets, and severed limbs lay everywhere among stark white bones.

The square reeked of blood and despair. It had become a cruel arena.

Tim's shout rose above the despairing sobs.

"Pick up weapons! Stay out of the dark!"

Amid the wreckage, he found the longsword Xilian had lost. He took the Soul Marrow he carried from his pocket and lit a torch, sending pure white light into the darkness.

"Stay close to me, Ava."

Tim held the sword in one hand and the torch in the other. He had no strength to spare to look after Ava, so he could only keep warning her.

Ava's face was pale, her gaze empty. She had just seen her father die, then watched Torchlight Lighthouse collapse, and now this... It was as though every tragedy in the world had descended tonight.

Seeing her like that, Tim felt grief and pity, followed by a surge of anger.

Ava could not die here. At least, not before his eyes.

Tim swung the longsword with all his might. His exceptional strength made it easy to cut down a Demon. Filthy blood splashed onto the ground and hissed as it ate into the earth.

"Mick, we have to get out of here!"

Tim turned and shouted to the small figure weaving through the crowd.

Mick was still young and nowhere near as strong as Tim, but he too held a torch in one hand and a short dagger in the other, stabbing holes in a Demon wherever he could.

After bringing one down, he hurried toward Tim, panting hard.

"Everyone, stay close to us!" Mick shouted.

Even without Mick saying anything, the surviving townspeople were already gathering around them.

The surging Grey Fog had devoured every other light. Only the torches in Tim's and Mick's hands still held back the darkness in the square.

Those two lights were far too feeble. The Soul Marrow was burning away quickly, and their glow grew dimmer by the moment.

Tim watched townspeople vanish into the darkness one after another. Before their figures faded completely, screams of despair and the sickening sound of tearing flesh drifted back.

How many had died?

The question rose unbidden in Tim's mind.

He looked around at the townspeople beside him. There were only twenty or thirty of them...

Tim did not dare think about what that meant. He had no time for fear, much less grief.

Once, he had failed to hold that door. This time, he would not fail.

Mick reached Tim, and their two lights joined, pushing the encroaching Grey Fog back a little. But it was only temporary. Sooner or later, the Soul Marrow would run out.

"Take all of these. You lead everyone."

Mick handed Tim the rest of his Soul Marrow, freeing his other hand to draw a second dagger.

Tim watched Mick nervously, afraid his brother was about to do something reckless.

"What about you?"

Incredibly, Mick could still manage a grin at a time like this.

"Me? What else can I do? There are demons prowling at the edge of the light. Someone has to deal with them."

At the edge of the light, demons kept emerging from the Grey Fog, trying to break into the Soul Marrow's glow and feast on the townspeople.

"Don't worry," Mick went on. "I'll stay close."

With that, Mick drove both daggers through a demon's heart.

"What do we do?"

One of the townspeople was slowly coming to his senses. He looked at Tim with hope in his eyes. "We can't stay here forever."

He was right. Tim and the others could not remain trapped in the square. It was flat and offered no cover. They were like rocks battered by waves; sooner or later, they would be smashed apart.

Tim did not know exactly what had happened, but the uncanny supernatural phenomena earlier had convinced him that it had something to do with Nuen.

As Tim considered their next move, the Grey Fog closed in from every direction once more.

Cold sweat broke out across everyone's skin. They looked at Tim in terror. Tim's own eyes widened as he forced down his unease.

Then he realized it. "The torches still have plenty of Soul Marrow... The Grey Fog has grown stronger!"

Shrill howls came one after another. Bolstered by the power of Chaos, the Demons were inching across the boundary between light and dark, thrusting their claws out blindly.

The townspeople screamed and shoved one another, desperate to crowd closer to Tim and the pure white light.

"Calm down! Stay calm!"

Tim shouted. If he had not been so tall, the panicked townspeople would have knocked him over.

"Light! Light!"

Someone cried out. Others dropped to their knees and prayed to the torch in Tim's hand.

Amid the desperate cries, a scarlet tentacle reached from the darkness. It coiled around a young woman's ankle and dragged her into the depths.

"Help me!"

She screamed in despair, but no one could answer.

Mick was fighting another Demon. No matter how fast his daggers flew, he could not kill them all. Besides, he was already exhausted and covered in wounds.

Surrounded by the crowd, Tim could not take a single step toward her.

All he could do was stare at the struggling young woman.

Oh... Tim remembered her. She was the baker's daughter, the girl he had once thought the prettiest in town.

Even now, her face was beautiful. Her terror made her look so fragile that he wanted to protect her.

Like a porcelain doll covered in cracks.

A sharp tail barb pierced her throat, cutting off her cry.

Tim's mind went blank. He felt as though the barb had pierced him too.

"Tim! Tim!"

Ava struggled through the increasingly frantic townspeople and shook him.

"Get a hold of yourself!"

At the sound of Ava's voice, Tim came back to himself. He blinked, his eyes dry, and tried to speak, but no words came.

It had all happened too suddenly, too madly.

However steady Tim usually was, watching familiar face after familiar face die before his eyes wore his defenses away. Amid the Demons' ravenous cries, they crumbled bit by bit.

Tim thought of the past, when he had been the youngest of the Soflova Brothers.

He had once had many brothers. They had all died in the night.

The Demons pressed closer again, their hideous forms displayed in the Soul Marrow's light. Grey Fog billowed around them. In the frenzy, no one even checked whether it had tainted them.

They simply screamed, as if trying to force the last breath from their lungs.

They screamed until their voices were raw.

"What good will screaming do?"

An angry voice cut through the screams. Blinding fire emerged from the darkness, and wherever it passed, Demons fell in heaps, hacked to pieces.

"Instead of screaming and praying, pick up a weapon and fight back!"

Xilian strode toward them, holding his Fire Sword high.

He offered no reassurance and wasted no words. Xilian asked bluntly,

"Are we the only ones left?"

Tim nodded. "Yes."

Xilian's arrival brought them an immense sense of safety.

"Come with me. We're going to Torchlight Lighthouse."

Xilian cut his palm again, trying to squeeze out more blood. He smeared it along the blade and kindled a blaze to drive back the darkness.

"Torchlight Lighthouse has collapsed," Tim said.

"But it stands on high ground, which makes it easier to defend. And the warehouse where they store Soul Marrow is beneath it. As long as we have enough Soul Marrow, we can make it through the night."

Xilian led the way, cutting the demons to pieces.

"The enemy might guess where we're going," Mick warned.

Without looking back, Xilian replied,

"Then we'll kill them too."