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SM/DC Chapter 104 : The Shadow & The Demon
🕑 Added 2025-04-29 20:58:31 +0000 UTCArthur’s boots sank slightly into the ashen soil as he walked, the cursed wind whistling past his ears with a low, almost sentient sound. The crimson sky above was streaked with smoke and black flame. Volcanic ridges rose in the distance, breathing pillars of fire into the air, while the ground beneath him trembled in quiet agony.
He exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I really would’ve enjoyed one day off…” he muttered, scanning the hellscape, “…but no.”
He kicked a loose, ember-glowing stone, watching it skitter and tumble into a nearby crack that hissed with molten fire.
“I get dragged into this. Whatever this is,” he added dryly, already annoyed by his circumstances.
Suddenly, the wind shifted no longer a breeze but a wave of heat so intense it seared the air itself. Arthur’s gaze narrowed. Ahead, the heat shimmered and breathed like it had a pulse. A dozen or so figures emerged, floating inches above the cracked ground.
Fire demons.
They hovered like burning ghosts, humanoid in shape but engulfed in writhing, living flame. Their “skin” beneath the inferno was a smoldering black, like hardened charcoal pulled straight from a forge. Their eyes burned white-hot, and their mouths opened with no sound only a rumble, as if the fire itself was speaking.
Arthur stared at them, unimpressed.
“Yeah…” he muttered, cracking his neck. “Definitely Trigon. These are his minions.”
They charged, heat warping the space around them as they surged forward like flaming wraiths.
Arthur didn’t flinch. His right hand lifted, fingers spread.
Ruler’s Authority.
With a pulse of invisible force, the closest fire demon was slammed into the ground so hard it exploded in a burst of black flame and ash. Another one tried to flank him Arthur extended two fingers in its direction and crushed it mid-air, its body twisting and writhing before being compressed into a flaming pebble.
Three more closed in fast.
Arthur's Demon King Greatsword appeared in his hand in a storm of dark lightning. He swung upward with a single, clean arc and cleaved two demons in half at once, their burning forms splitting like molten wax before evaporating.
One demon shrieked and lunged from behind Arthur didn't even turn. He raised his left hand, fingers twitching.
Snap.
The air behind him shattered, and the creature was ripped apart by an invisible force mid-flight.
Another group circled him, forming a fiery ring, raising burning arms toward the sky, chanting in a guttural language not meant for human ears. The flames grew taller, licking the heavens.
Arthur narrowed his eyes. “I don’t have time for this.”
He thrust his greatsword into the ground sending out a ripple of Ruler’s Authority laced with Lightning. The wave shot out in a perfect circle, disintegrating the demons on contact fire extinguished in a blink, the charcoal remains falling like snow.
Silence returned.
Arthur stood in the middle of the field of glowing ashes, steam rising from his shoulders.
He walked among the scattered remains, the sulfuric air still humming from the clash. Smoke curled lazily from the charred ground, where bits of ash and coal-like flesh still simmered. One particular remnant caught his eye bigger than the rest, its four-eyed skull split neatly down the center.
He stepped toward it with a faint smirk.
“Let me get these guys,” Arthur said casually, flipping his greatsword onto his shoulder. “Don’t mind if I do.”
He dropped to one knee in front of the carcass, resting two fingers on the charcoal remains. The air grew still.
“…Arise,” he commanded.
Silence.
The corpse sizzled, but nothing moved. Not even a twitch.
Arthur blinked, narrowing his eyes. “Huh.”
He tried again, pressing a bit of power into his words. “Arise.”
Still nothing.
Frowning now, Arthur attempted one final time, his tone clipped. “Arise.”
Dead air.
He stood slowly, brow furrowed, staring down at the unmoving heap.
“This is weird…” he muttered to himself. “They’re far weaker than me. And it’s not like I haven’t extracted shadows from demons before…”
His hand clenched around the hilt of his sword as he straightened, letting out a slow breath. “No matter. I need to find whoever is..”
A voice slithered into his mind.
“Ahh… the Shadow Wielder.”
“How gracious of you to open the door. Your warpath carved a crack wide enough for me to slip through.”
“You helped me… and for that, I am indebted. And so, as thanks..”
“I shall kill you myself.”
Arthur flinched, eyes flashing open wide. “I helped you?” he said aloud, incredulous. “And you’ll kill me for it? How does any of this make sense?!”
He looked around, sword half-raised, senses flaring like a storm, trying to pinpoint the voice.
Nothing but wind and shifting embers.
One step forward.
“I’ll find you..”
The voice responded instantly quieter now, almost right behind his ear.
“No need mortal, I already did.”
The words hit like a freight train. An overwhelming pressure flooded the atmosphere, dense and suffocating, as if the realm itself recoiled. Arthur stumbled half a step back, heart slamming once in his chest. His blue eyes widened sharply, searching for the source but the presence wasn’t coming from one direction.
It was coming from everywhere.
Then
A flicker.
A hum.
And suddenly… he was there.
Trigon.
He emerged like a phantom from the heat haze, towering over Arthur with impossible scale. Eyes six of them, glowing like infernos locked onto him with cruel intelligence. His skin was a burning red, cracked like volcanic rock, pulsing with ancient sigils. Each movement radiated pressure, and every breath carried the scent of brimstone and corruption. Four arms, adorned in blackened armor and wrapped in charred gold, hung at his sides each hand large enough to crush a boulder to dust.
Two horns curled from his head like a crown of the damned, and his mouth split into a grin that held eons of malice.
“Tell me, Shadow King… can your little tricks save you from a god?”
Even as the pressure bore down like the weight of a dying star, Arthur… smiled.
It was faint, crooked, almost taunting defiant.
“A god?” he repeated with a scoff, eyes narrowing. “You sound a lot like the others I’ve killed.”
He reached out with his will, calling the abyss.
“Come forth.”
Nothing.
No tremor in the ground. No flicker in the void. Not even a whisper.
Arthur’s confident smirk faltered, just slightly.
He tried again, deeper this time “Come Forth.”
Still… silence.
His heart skipped. Something was off. Way off.
His legs felt heavy, like stone. His core weakened. His aura… dimmed.
Trigon tilted his monstrous head with mock concern, eyes glowing brighter with every second. “What’s wrong, mortal?” he asked, voice thick with amusement. “Your shadows… gone? Your strength… fading?”
Arthur clicked his tongue. “Tch.”
And then he lunged forward.
A flash of blue lightning lit the infernal sky as his Demon King greatsword cleaved through the air. His movements were practiced, sharp, fueled by instinct and years of battle—
But they were slow.
Painfully slow.
As if reality itself was dragging him back.
Arthur gritted his teeth, tried to activate Ruler’s Authority but nothing surged. Not a pulse of power. Not a flicker of force.
“What’s going on…” he muttered, breath catching in his throat.
Trigon didn’t answer.
He only raised one of his massive, clawed hands sigils along his arm igniting in fiery arcs and then slammed it down.
A wave of searing energy erupted from his palm like a wrathful sun. Arthur’s instincts screamed, and he tried to move but his body felt sluggish, like it was underwater.
The blast hit him dead-on.
BOOM.
Arthur flew back like a broken missile, crashing through jagged blackstone and slamming into a boulder so hard it cracked in half. The ground trembled.
He slumped, coughing blood, his vision swimming.
“Something… weird... is happening,” Arthur breathed hoarsely, tasting iron on his tongue. He could barely lift his sword now.
Trigon’s laughter rumbled through the burning air like an earthquake.
“Perish.”
beams of crimson death erupted from Trigon’s six blazing eyes an unholy convergence of hellfire and annihilation.
Still downed, Arthur weakly lifted a trembling hand, as if to shield himself.
“…I need to move… Basta...”
The word barely escaped his lips.
The blast struck true.
A pillar of light and fury consumed the battlefield.
The mountain behind Arthur disintegrated under the force.
It got quiet now.
Not the silence of peace, but that strange, suffocating stillness that settled after something cataclysmic. The kind that buzzed just beneath the surface, like a ringing in the ears that wouldn’t go away.
And then
A voice.
Faint. Distant.
“Arthur…”
He didn’t respond. He couldn’t.
“Arthur…” It came again warmer this time. Familiar, even.
Soft… like the echo of a memory, carried on the wind that didn’t blow.
There was no direction to it. No source. Just the name, over and over again.
“Arthur…”
It was growing clearer.
Comments
Nashawn Best
Cause I love it when cocky villians get there do especially cowardly ones who think there all that when they have to use dirty tricks instead of fighting head on.
Nashawn Best
And I’m gonna love it when Arthur knocks that smirk off of Tritons face and kills him.
