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Chapter 168 - broken

The devil lunged at Hope with a speed that seemed to defy reality itself. There was no time to think, no time to prepare. The creature moved like a blur, its greatsword a monstrous, gleaming arc of destruction. Hope's reflexes kicked in, and he instinctively raised his dark odachi to block the incoming strike, but even as his blade met the devil's sword, the shockwave of force was enough to rattle his bones.

The clash sent him flying backward, crashing into the wall with an impact so brutal it felt as though his spine might snap. Hope's breath was forced from his lungs as a searing pain shot through him. Blood spat from his mouth, a bitter taste of iron as his vision blurred. His fingers trembled around the hilt of his sword, the shaking only making the pain more unbearable.

Dammit, Hope cursed under his breath, struggling to lift himself up from the debris. His body was heavy, like lead, every movement a battle against the agony coursing through him. His heart was hammering in his chest, his breath shallow, as he could barely focus his eyes on the creature that had just sent him flying.

The devil stood there, a twisted, hulking figure cloaked in darkness, its crimson eyes glowing like hot embers. It wasn't even breathing hard—if anything, it was enjoying this. The creature's enormous sword was still raised, dripping with an aura that was all-consuming. The figure on the throne let out a low, sinister chuckle, the sound carrying through the space like an omen of doom.

Hope staggered to his feet, trying to steady his vision. His limbs screamed in protest, blood oozing from the cuts and bruises he'd sustained. I can't let this thing beat me. Not now. His fingers tightened around his sword's hilt, forcing himself into a defensive stance. But his arms were shaking too much. The devil was already moving again, too fast for Hope to track properly.

In the blink of an eye, the creature closed the distance between them. Hope's instincts screamed at him to react, but his muscles felt like they were made of stone. The devil's sword descended like a falling star, aimed straight for his head. Hope swung his odachi up to parry, but the force of the strike was too much. His blade was knocked away, his arm numb from the power of the blow.

Before Hope could recover, the devil was on him again. With an animalistic snarl, the creature rammed into him, slamming its shoulder into Hope's chest. The force sent him flying once more, smashing into the ground with bone-jarring force. His body hit the stone floor, skidding several feet before coming to a painful stop.

Hope's breath came in ragged gasps. His ribs felt cracked, his chest on fire. He coughed violently, spitting blood onto the floor, the taste metallic and foul. He could barely see straight, his vision swimming in and out of focus. The devil loomed over him, its red eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. The creature raised its sword again, ready to finish him off. Hope's heart pounded harder in his chest, fear creeping up on him, but beneath the terror was a surge of desperation.

I can't die here. I won't. I've come too far.

But he was too slow, too weak, and the devil's sword was too fast.

The blade came down in a terrifying arc. Hope's body jerked, his instincts telling him to move, to dodge—but his limbs betrayed him. The sword crashed into his side with the power of a landslide, tearing through his already broken body. He screamed in agony as the devil's greatsword sliced through him, the pain overwhelming. He could feel the cold steel biting into his flesh, the sharpness of the blade tearing into his ribs, a deep wound that felt like it was cleaving him in two.

The devil twisted the blade, a malicious grin spreading across its grotesque face as it dragged the sword through Hope's side, making him scream once more. Hope tried to push himself up, but the pain was too much. His vision was going dark, and the force of the strike had knocked the wind out of him completely.

"Pathetic," the figure on the throne murmured from the shadows, its voice oozing disdain. "I had hoped for more from you, but it seems you're simply not strong enough."

The devil yanked the sword free with a brutal pull, and Hope rolled on the ground, blood spilling from the gaping wound in his side. His breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. His hands were slick with blood, trembling as they pressed against the floor. His world was spinning, his body beyond repair. His limbs were numb, and the pain was like a dark wave threatening to drown him.

Gods… I can't keep up… Hope thought, his mind beginning to shut down. This is it. I'm going to die here.

The devil stepped forward, its booted foot landing heavily on Hope's chest, pinning him to the ground with crushing pressure. Hope gasped, his ribs protesting under the weight. He gritted his teeth, fighting for air, for any semblance of strength.

"Please… Let me die…" Hope muttered, his voice raw and weak, but still defiant. "End it. Please."

The devil's eyes narrowed, its lips curling into a cruel smile. The weight of its foot pressed harder against his chest, making it harder to breathe.

But the figure on the throne laughed, its voice mocking.

"You're not allowed to die yet, hopeless." The words rang in Hope's ears, a cold reminder that his fate was still in the hands of whatever cruel force was controlling this world. "You're far from finished."

And with that, the devil raised its sword one final time, the dark energy swirling around its blade as it prepared to strike the killing blow, shit it's about to kill me and you say I'm not allowed to die yet? Hope muttered between rasped breaths.

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