The Zettai-Teki Hakai glowed, the screams coming from it audible to everyone. Guyver flinched, his markings showing fully, and Eiry squeezed his hand, strengthening her dominance a bit. Zept remained calm, hands in his pocket. Morok brought out two bottles of holy water, passing one to Sol, whose staff was at the ready.
The screams intensified; a spirit appeared, and then another.
"By our prayer, your soul is free from artificial purgatory. Be free, and rest," a priestess chanted. The Shamans threw salt, as if to cleanse the spirit, a cleric marked it with water, and soon the spirit was gone.
Father. Our work under way, Barom thought to himself. Everyone's efforts will not be in vain, the lost lives shall be spared eternal torment.
Many spirits of dead Humans had finally been released, but it was far from over. A demon's soul suddenly appeared, but a circle of runes appeared to bind it. It struggled, but resigned itself to its fate. Another cleric stepped forward.
"I'll not be controlled again! My death was without honor!" The demon roared.
"Despite your nature, the gods offer a blessing to your afterlife." The cleric smiled. The demon was clearly stunned.
"I… I accept. You have my eternal gratitude."
The demon faded away, and four spirits appeared, their form recognized by a knight. "The banished thieves! They're the ones! They deserve no pity!!"
The king put his hand on the knight's shoulder. "The first Madness, yes. But while your heart grants them no quarter, the gods grant them forgiveness. Stand down, my friend." the knight took a deep breath and relaxed.
The thieves themselves faded without comment, yet gave way to the worst. Demons' souls broke free, raging every which way. Wizards and Sorcerers began working immediately, obliterating the spirits.
"I wish to borrow the grace of the elves," Morok said.
"To aid thy dwarven strength. Of course," Sol returned.
Morok blessed his axe and Sol enchanted it with fire. Morok threw himself at the melee, Sol firing several bolts of lightning and restraint spells to aid his friend. Guards and knights stood watch over every spell caster, enchanted weapons at the ready. The priestesses and shamans continued to work, and finally the last spirit came free.
The demonic blacksmith himself appeared, the blade vanishing; the weapon was nothing more than a bracelet now. The demon gave a bellowing laugh, and although the binding spells appeared, he smashed through them with ease. He saw his target immediately—Guyver.
Eiry’s intuition was quick, and she moved to protect him, but Guyver's instinct told him to attack, and he pushed her back. Taking up Dimension Diver, he implanted his own Ki and fire into the blade. Yet as he raised his sword, he froze. The demon was gone!
But his anger was not. No, it was raging higher and higher. What looked like a single horn protruded from his forehead.
"A new body. At last!" His laughter filled the hall with a deafening crash, using wind and fire far past what his body could handle to blast everyone away from him. Eiry had to get to him, rolling safely to preventing injury. She had to at least try—he needed her now more than ever. Zept saw her movement and stood on shaking legs. His hands had lost their charge of mana! But he got them out of his pockets and focused.
She had almost gotten to him, despite the power he was using. “Guyver! Look at me!” She had to make him see her, with all the dominance she had.
He stopped, looking at her. "You..." It was the demon's voice, and she froze, a chill going down her spine with a sense of deep dread. "You are the key to taking this body!"
He lunged at her, Dimension Diver at the ready, a searing flame on its blade. But it found no home as Guyver was blown sideways. A charging Zept had shot him with raw magical energy as Eiry leapt back. Guyver lost his grip on the sword which Zept dove to catch.
"Now’s our chance! Sol! Restr-NO!! Stop you fools!!!" Morok yelled.
Guyver barely had the chance to stand as a spear impaled him from behind, eyes wide. Another spear held him in place; a third finally staggered him, a fourth and fifth buckled his knees, and yet he stood.
"I… can't die… not yet."
The room was deafeningly quiet for one brief moment.
“You fools! Stop!" the king demanded. "Healers! Exorcists! NOW!"
"He has the demon!" one of the impaling guards yelled. "My liege! We must stop him here!"
Guyver saw his life flashing before him, hands full of blood. He saw what he wanted, what should have been, the wedding bells and the bride of his dreams, no more burdens. It all faded.
"Your life will be the price, the demon whispered in his head. You'll not escape me. even in death, you will belong to me."
Another guard looked at Eiry. "It said she's the key..."
Guyver looked up, vision fading. He couldn't breathe and he knew his heart had stopped. He could see Zept grabbing Eiry round the waist, despite her struggles, pulling her away from the looming guards and tried to reach for her. He wanted to yell how much he loved her, to hold her one last time, but all that came out were frustrated tears at his charred hands and inability to move. He couldn't even tell her...oh gods, she was trying so hard, and the tears…
"Ei...ry..." he whispered.
Eiry kicked Zept hard, desperately trying to get back to Guyver, but he grabbed the nearest part of her he could reach and jerked back as hard as he could. He couldn't let the guards think—then he had her, and prayed hard for Dimension Diver to just work. They were jostled hard, and then they were somewhere else, and she was safe. An elbow connected with his solar plexus with more force than he’d thought possible, and he let go, doubled over with a wheeze before using the sword for one more transport, leaving her there on the floor.
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