Paralyzed Demon - Shadow Slave

When the Fallen Demon pulled Morpheus' arm with its vines, it squeezed tightly, tearing it off. Morpheus fell backward, trying to break free from the vines, and then froze. He looked at where his arm should have been.

It was gone.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGH!"

The pain was unbearable. His arm was gone, and his shoulder was burning from the acidic vines. The shock of it nearly drowned him. When he managed to pull himself together, he turned to look at the Fallen Demon. It was still standing there.

Smirking.

Mocking him.

Fear gripped Morpheus. He was too weak. The creature hunting him was enjoying his suffering. His sword was gone. His arm was gone.

For a moment, he could have given up. The endless torment of the Nightmare had never given him a chance to breathe. He was exhausted.

But that smirk... that smirk awakened something else.

Rage.

The endless suffering in the Nightmare. The brutal winter. The isolation. And now—losing an arm.

Enough.

"Even if I die, I don't care anymore. You are dying first."

The Fallen Demon grinned even wider and looked at the arm it had torn off. That sight only fueled Morpheus' rage further.

"You think you've disarmed me, you son of a bitch?" Morpheus took a step forward.

"I am the weapon."

The Fallen Demon lashed out, sending vines toward him, but Morpheus advanced step by step, cutting and dodging them with his remaining arm. He moved slowly, deliberately. The closer he got, the more the demon's eyes darkened with anger.

Then, he stopped dodging.

Instead, he weaved through the vines and closed the distance in an instant. He swung his arm like a blade.

Too slow.

The Fallen Demon bit down on his other arm, sinking its teeth into his flesh, nearly crushing it.

It stared into his eyes with that same twisted smirk.

And then it saw the look on Morpheus' face.

Emotionless.

"I got you, you piece of shit," Morpheus growled.

With all his strength, he pulled his arm upward.

His flesh sliced through the demon's head, cutting from the inside out.

The demon let out a monstrous scream, writhing in agony. Morpheus didn't stop. He forced his arm deeper, pushing it straight into where its brain should be.

The demon convulsed and collapsed.

Morpheus fell to his knees beside it, panting. Then, he started laughing.

A crazed grin spread across his bloodied face.

He looked straight into the demon's eyes, making sure it saw its killer before it died.

[You have slain a Fallen Demon, Plagued Charger.]

[You have received an Echo: Plagued Charger.]

Great. The bastard that tore off my arm and crushed the other one is now my pet.

Blood still poured from his wound, but there was nothing around to stop the bleeding.

His only idea made him scowl.

He summoned his Echo.

The sight of the horse-like demon's face reignited his rage. He lifted his severed limb.

"Burn it shut."

The demon obeyed. Its vines wrapped around the wound, and the acid seared the flesh, cauterizing it. The pain was hellish, but it worked.

He turned to his other arm. Bone was visible where the demon had bitten. He wrapped it with makeshift bandages from tree branches and tied it around his neck with vines.

"I have no idea how I'm supposed to move forward," he muttered.

Defending himself wasn't the problem. He could fight with his legs. But cooking? Gathering meat from monsters? Surviving in everyday life?

"I guess I'll have to rely on you for now," he grumbled at his Echo.

Using more vines, he strapped himself onto the demon's back and lay on his stomach.

He had no time to rest. He had to leave this place now.

"I'm getting out of here as fast as possible. I have to reach that mountain."

And this time, no monsters dared to attack him. His Echo terrified them.

For food, he had no choice but to cook the remains of creatures his Echo had killed. He carefully avoided the acid-burned parts, of course.

With his Echo moving at full speed, he reached the end of spring.

He had spent nearly three months in the season.

And now, summer had begun.

For the first time, he could see the mountain.

But then, his eyes widened.

There were two.

An identical mountain stood to the right of the one in his dreams.

"I don't even want to think about this right now," Morpheus muttered.

"I'll see for myself soon enough."

He pressed forward.

As he traveled, he noticed the trees were dry and withered, the ground cracked from the heat.

And then, the smell hit him.

Blood.

It was faint at first. But the more he advanced, the stronger it became.

Nose of Mole.

He used the Memory to check for monsters.

Nothing.

The scent wasn't coming from any creature.

There was nothing to do but move forward.

One month passed.

The smell became unbearable.

Every bite of food tasted like blood. Every sip of water felt like drinking from a corpse.

It was hell.

Another two weeks passed.

Then, he heard it.

Water.

A river.

Hope surged in his chest as he pushed toward the sound.

But he couldn't find the source.

The sound grew louder and louder, until it thundered inside his head.

And then, after one final day of travel, he saw it.

His heart stopped.

The river stretched endlessly before him.

Blood-red liquid surged through its waters.

He didn't need to think. He knew.

This was blood.

The mountains stood on the other side.

And the only thing in his way was this cursed river.

As he stared at it, he noticed something white.

He moved closer.

White stones stretched across the river, forming a path.

They were perfectly aligned, evenly spaced.

"Did someone put these here to cross?"

He didn't dwell on it. He had no choice but to use them.

Morpheus jumped onto the first stone. Then the next.

Step by step, he crossed.

Two days passed before he reached the other side.

The heat was unbearable. The river's blood boiled, steaming the air. Breathing became difficult.

He climbed out of the riverbed, summoned his Echo, and rode away without looking back.

No stopping.

Not until he reached the mountain.

For three days, he traveled without rest.

At last, he arrived at the base.

He stood still, staring up at its towering height.

He was exhausted.

Dizzy from dehydration.

He had nothing left.

"I made it," he rasped.

"Now, what the hell do you want from me?"

He spread his arms.

"Send me your best! You want me to fight a monster? Fine! Bring it on! Even a Fallen couldn't stop me! Send your strongest! Even if it's a god, I'll cut them down!"

Then, his vision darkened.

His body collapsed.

He didn't see the glowing eyes watching him from above.

Didn't hear the voice.

"You asked for it, Morpheus. It would be rude to refuse."

The voice chuckled, but there was no joy in it—only sorrow.