They were surrounded by Remnants.
Most of them hadn’t taken on recognizable forms yet.
Instead, they appeared as figures made entirely from shadow, their bodies shifting unnaturally as countless purple eyes watched Iris and Michello from the darkness.
None of them attacked.
They simply waited, crawling across distant walls and gathering along the edges of the crimson bridge as though they were waiting for someone else to make the first move.
Only one had taken human form.
He appeared to be a man in his late twenties or early thirties, dressed in a simple black suit with a purple tie.
Blonde hair fell across his left eye while the other, bright blue, stared directly at Iris.
His middle finger was completely purple, almost as though the skin itself had been tattooed, though the nail remained untouched.
A lollipop rested between his fingers as he began to whistle softly.
Iris’s stomach dropped.
That sound.
Her body began shaking before she could stop it.
“Hello, humans. How’s it going?” the Remnant asked casually.
“No need for all that trickery where I pretend to be your mother, brother, or whatever else you care about. I only took this form as a little insurance in case things get violent.”
It smiled.
A devilish smile Iris knew far too well.
“Michello…” Iris whispered.
He glanced toward her.
“I order you not to kill him.”
Michello’s expression softened slightly when he noticed how badly she was shaking.
“That’s an order,” Iris continued.
Her voice came out quieter this time.
“Please.”
Michello looked back toward the false man.
“May I ask who this particular imitation is?” His grip tightened slightly around From Hell.
“I’ll do my best to respect your command, but if he attempts to harm you, then I’m afraid he’ll have to die. If that happens, please cover your ears and close your eyes.”
Iris swallowed.
“He’s… someone who doesn’t exist yet.”
Michello raised an eyebrow.
“The Remnant must’ve copied one of the visions the Goddess showed me,” Iris said quietly.
“A man destined to become my lover in the future.”
The Remnant smiled wider.
“His name is Charles Wells.”
Michello looked between Iris and the man standing in front of them.
“I see.” He paused.
“Iris, he appears to be significantly older than you. I’m becoming slightly concerned about your taste in men.”
Iris’s eye twitched despite herself.
“Well, obviously he’ll be my age when I actually meet him, you stupid jerk!” she snapped.
“I don’t know why the Remnant decided to use this version of him.”
That part was a lie.
She knew exactly why.
The Remnants pulled from memories, fears, attachments, and whatever emotions their prey had buried deepest.
And this was the version of Charles burned most painfully into Iris’s mind.
The last version of him she’d ever seen.
Alive.
Before he was murdered.
“You’re completely surrounded, humans. Tough break.”
The Remnant bit down on the lollipop, shattering it between his teeth as his purple middle finger began to glow.
That finger was his Sigil.
Then he vanished.
Iris barely had time to process the movement before the false Charles appeared directly in front of Michello.
He was fast.
Impossibly fast.
“Since you’re so desperate to protect her,” the Remnant said with a grin, “why don’t you make this easy? Kill yourself, and I’ll let her live. Deal?”
Michello’s smile widened.
If anything, the threat only seemed to excite him.
“Iris,” he said gently, never taking his eye off the Remnant.
“Please cover your eyes and ears. Don’t open them no matter what happens, alright, my dear Oracle?”
Then he moved.
From Hell tore through the air as Michello swung the spear toward the Remnant’s neck, but purple light surrounded Charles’s body.
Without so much as moving his feet, he was suddenly pulled backward through the air, narrowly avoiding the blade.
“Michello,” Iris called out, keeping her hands over her eyes.
“His Curse lets him telekinetically control himself and anything around him. He doesn’t move normally. He forcibly throws his own body wherever he wants, which means he can attack and dodge at speeds his body should never be capable of reaching.”
The Remnant floated several feet above the ground, smiling as pieces of crimson stone began rising around him.
“He’ll attack you from every direction at once,” Iris continued.
“His own body, weapons, debris, anything he can grab. Don’t assume you’re safe just because he’s standing in front of you.”
Michello chuckled.
“How troublesome.”
“And there’s another problem.” Iris clenched her teeth.
“The real Charles paid a heavy price whenever he used that Curse. His Stigmata poisoned his blood the longer he pushed it.”
Her expression darkened beneath her hands.
“But Remnants aren’t human. Their blood can’t be poisoned the same way ours can.”
Several chunks of crimson stone shot toward Michello at once.
He spun From Hell, knocking them aside.
“So that thing probably gets to use his Curse without suffering the drawback.”
Michello laughed louder.
“Oh, how unfair.”
Charles floated higher into the air as chunks of crimson debris tore themselves from the bridge and began spinning around his hand.
They twisted faster and faster until they formed a makeshift drill, and then he launched himself straight toward Michello.
His speed was absurd, but unlike someone using the Curse for the first time, Charles’s body had years of conditioning behind it.
His muscles had been trained to endure the violent recoil caused by throwing himself through the air at impossible speeds.
Michello leaped upward just before the drill reached him.
The Remnant immediately changed tactics.
Dozens of smaller pieces of debris ripped free from the surrounding structures and shot toward Michello from every direction, moving like miniature bullets meant to pierce straight through him.
Michello smiled.
“Your release word is… Carve.”
From Hell changed instantly.
Numerous eyes opened along the flesh wrapped around the spear’s handle, followed by several mouths that began laughing wildly.
The chainsaw blade roared louder as it spun faster and faster, while Michello’s smile grew wider with every passing second.
Then he moved.
Each projectile was cut apart before it could touch him.
Stone fragments scattered through the air as Michello descended toward the bridge, swinging From Hell with almost casual precision.
The released Artifact fed on his bloodlust, converting his desire to carve apart whatever stood in front of him into greater physical power.
And Michello was enjoying himself far too much.
The moment his feet touched the ground, he disappeared.
Charles’s eyes widened.
Michello was already in front of him.
Before the Remnant could pull itself away, Michello thrust the spear forward.
The chainsaw blade tore across Charles’s neck, black blood spraying from the wound as the creature immediately launched itself backward through the air.
Threads ripped themselves from its suit and wrapped around the injury, pulling the flesh together and sealing it shut.
Then Charles froze.
Something had appeared across the wound.
A Roman numeral I.
Michello rested From Hell against his shoulder and looked up at him with open excitement.
“You should be careful, false human.”
Charles touched the marking on his neck.
“Every time I cut you, another mark appears.”
Michello’s pink eye seemed to glow brighter.
“And the more marks you collect…”
His smile widened.
“The stronger I become.”
The mouths across From Hell laughed alongside him.
Michello pointed the spear toward Charles.
“So try not to let me reach five.”
His grin became almost monstrous.
“You really don’t want to see what happens then.” The source of this chapter is g.com.
“All of you, attack him now!” Charles shouted from above.
“Kill that human! He cannot be allowed to meet our King when he awakens!”
The moment the order left his mouth, movement erupted from every direction.
Remnants began climbing onto the bridge from the surrounding darkness, shadowy bodies spilling over the edges as countless purple eyes locked onto Michello and Iris.
Michello reacted immediately.
Before Iris could even complain, he scooped her into his arms.
“Hold on tightly, my dear Oracle. I won’t allow a single one of them to harm you.” Michello smiled as the first Remnant lunged toward them.
“You know, if I ever had a daughter, I imagine she’d turn out quite a lot like you.”
From Hell tore through the creature’s chest.
“You’re twenty-four,” Iris said flatly as black blood sprayed across Michello’s arm.
“If I was your daughter, you would’ve had me when you were eight.”
Michello paused for half a second.
Then he laughed.
“Once again, you’re reading far too deeply into my words and far too little into their intent.” He sighed dramatically as another Remnant charged.
“But fine. Touché.”
The next several seconds became a blur.
Michello severed one Remnant’s arm before spinning From Hell around and taking the head from another.
A third tried lunging past him toward Iris, only for Michello to kick it straight off the bridge.
Another opened its jaws beside them, and he drove the spear through its mouth without even slowing down.
One after another, the Remnants fell.
The more blood spilled, the louder From Hell became.
Its chainsaw blade screamed through the darkness, while the mouths along its flesh-wrapped handle laughed louder with every kill.
Michello’s movements became faster as his bloodlust continued to rise, each swing more violent and somehow more precise than the last.
Iris remained tightly against his chest.
‘This bastard really is insane.’
She could feel it now.
Michello wasn’t simply fighting efficiently.
He was having fun.
Every scream, every burst of black blood, every body cut apart by From Hell only seemed to make him happier.
Above them, the false Charles watched as his forces disappeared one by one.
His expression finally changed.
Fear.
Michello noticed.
“Oh?”
Charles immediately tried to pull himself backward through the air.
Too late.
Michello shifted Iris into one arm and threw From Hell with the other.
The spear ripped through the air.
Charles’s eyes widened.
The chainsaw blade buried itself directly into his head.
His body went limp instantly.
For a moment, the Remnant remained suspended in the air before crashing onto the crimson bridge below.
Michello landed beside the corpse and casually pulled From Hell free.
Black blood poured across the ground.
He glanced at the Roman numeral still marked along Charles’s neck and sighed.
“It seems you won’t get to see what happens when I reach five.”
A Remnant rushed toward him from behind.
Michello didn’t even turn.
He swung the spear backward and split it open.
Then another came.
And another.
Iris could still hear the chainsaw roaring, bodies striking the ground, and Michello humming pleasantly to himself as though none of this required even the slightest effort.
After a few moments, his voice returned to its usual cheerful tone.
“Just a few more bugs, my dear Oracle.”
Another scream echoed through the darkness.
“Then you can open your eyes.”