Demon's Guardian

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Chapter 2

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The world was once united, but after humanity consumed the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil, they were expelled from paradise. To prevent them from ever reaching the tree of life, the world was divided into Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, and the Material World. In the wake of this separation, the Material World became suffused with spiritual energy.

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"Everyone, get behind me!" Micah commanded, his voice firm.

"This spiritual pressure... it's coming from him," Desmond muttered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Jerome and Kari stood frozen, their eyes locked on the source of the malevolent energy.

"It's... it's a Devil!" Kari screamed, her voice trembling.

"Finally," Jerome said, summoning every ounce of courage. He dashed toward the silhouette.

"No, Jerome!" Micah shouted.

"Don't come closer!" Jeremiah screamed, his voice filled with fear.

Flickers of flames erupted from the ground, the smell of sulfur and brimstone choking the air. A charred hand formed, nearly grasping Jerome. He smoothly dodged the attack, light particles gathering around his hand, forming a sword. With one swift motion, he aimed to decapitate Jeremiah. His strike, however, met a solid dark shield protecting Jeremiah. Jerome stared into Jeremiah’s eyes and was struck by an unfamiliar feeling—Jeremiah was terrified, tears streaming down his face. Jeremiah recoiled, fear evident in his every movement.

"Why... Why are you crying?" Jerome asked, confusion lacing his voice.

"Please, run! It... it will kill you," Jeremiah pleaded, his voice cracking.

"Behind you!" Jeremiah warned, but it was too late.

Jerome was sent flying as a creature of Hell, newly formed, kicked him aside. It stood close to Jeremiah, its charred body glowing with embers visible through the cracks in its skin, two large horns protruding from its head, its posture hunched and menacing.

"I've never seen anything like this before," Kari whispered, her voice barely audible.

"That is a demon, and one that has been on the church's radar for fourteen years now," Micah said, his tone serious. "Stand down, Jerome. You can't handle this."

"Shut up! This is a piece of cake," Jerome retorted, determination in his voice. "When I take this demon down, Father will be forced to acknowledge me," he thought, his mind racing.

Jerome dashed at the demon, forming two light swords and swinging them with precision, forcing the demon back as it dodged his attacks. Jerome feinted with his left sword, the demon fell for it, and Jerome grinned as he sliced off its right arm.

"He's surprisingly holding his own without a grace. He's strong for his age," Micah observed, impressed.

"He is the last son of the Prelate of Sacred Vigilance, Nurin Michael. Strength runs in his blood," Desmond added, his voice laced with respect.

The demon looked at its dismembered arm, which slowly regenerated. A dark aura enveloped both Jeremiah and the demon, intensifying the oppressive energy in the air.

"It's drawing power from this boy. Jerome is in..." Desmond was cut short by the sound of lightning, followed by the sonic boom created by Micah's blistering speed. The smoke cleared, revealing Micah, who had just dropped Jerome to the ground.

"You've done enough," Micah said calmly. "Your opponent is me now."

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**Fourteen Years Ago**

Jeremiah groaned in pain, the chains around his hands and feet shattered. He rolled off the altar, feeling a burning sensation on his right palm. His attention was quickly drawn to the figure taking shape before him. Smoke and embers coalesced into a demonic figure. Blood dripped from his palm as the demon's form solidified, a sigil forming on his hand, each stroke deeper than the last. Finally, two circles with inscriptions encircled the pentagram, completing the sigil.

Jeremiah screamed, trying to run away from the demon, his legs barely supporting him.

"What... What are you?" he asked, his voice trembling.

The demon slowly advanced, leaving charred footprints in its wake. Mischievous, high-pitched laughter echoed through the shadows outside, drawing both their attention.

"Wh... what was that?" Jeremiah stammered.

The laughter grew louder as a dwarf-like creature fell from the remnants of the roof, armed with a knife, a wide grin of jagged teeth visible in the moonlight. The demon grabbed it by the neck. The creature slashed at the demon’s hand, landing behind it. The moonlight revealed more of the creatures—now six in total—with small horns protruding from their heads. The demon stood protectively in front of Jeremiah.

"What is it doing? Is it protecting me?" Jeremiah thought, bewildered.

The creatures screeched at the demon before charging. In response, the demon unleashed a wave of dark spiritual energy, decapitating all six at once. It turned back to Jeremiah, its gaze piercing. Finally, Jeremiah broke down, the tears he had been holding back flowing uncontrollably.

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Jeremiah sprinted into an abandoned alleyway, his lungs burning as he reached a dead end. Three men dressed in dark blue uniforms, similar to Micah's but with purple sashes, approached him.

"Please, I haven't hurt anyone!" Jeremiah pleaded, desperation in his voice.

"You are a devil, and it is our duty as exorcists to destroy you," one of them said coldly.

One of the men grabbed Jeremiah by his dirty navy hoodie and slammed him against the wall. Jeremiah coughed up blood, the impact jarring his body.

"Eosphoros... Help," Jeremiah whispered, his voice barely audible.

Eosphoros materialized behind the exorcist, driving his hand through the man’s chest. Blood splattered onto Jeremiah.

"Eosphoros, what are you doing?" Jeremiah asked, panic rising in his chest.

The demon turned to the remaining exorcists, both of whom were paralyzed with fear.

"Run!" Jeremiah screamed at them, but before they could react, their headless bodies crumpled to the ground. Eosphoros laid the severed heads at Jeremiah's feet.

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"I had it under control," Jerome muttered, frustration evident in his tone.

Micah ignored him. "Desmond, take the kids back to the church. I'll handle this."

"Shouldn't I call for backup?" Desmond asked, concern in his voice.

"That won't be necessary," Micah replied, his tone decisive. "You better not hold back on me," he said, turning his attention to Eosphoros.

Micah dashed at Eosphoros with the speed of lightning, forming two lightning daggers. He sliced off Eosphoros' arm as it attempted to shield its head. Eosphoros screeched in pain, and the two engaged in a fierce exchange of blows, moving so fast that none of the onlookers could follow. Micah delivered a powerful kick to Eosphoros’ chest, creating some distance between them.

"Tempest!" Micah shouted, unleashing streams of lightning at Jeremiah. Eosphoros intercepted the attack, jumping in front of the boy and creating a shadow barrier around him. Eosphoros fell to one knee, weakened.

"Why are you protecting him?" Micah demanded, his voice filled with confusion.

"Eosphoros, are you okay?" Jeremiah asked, kneeling beside the demon.

"What's going on here?" Kari asked, her voice shaky.

"It's a rare phenomenon, but that demon is somehow bound to the soul of that boy," Desmond explained, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"But they don't share the same spiritual energy signal," Kari observed.

"That's why it's so strange," Desmond replied, shaking his head.

Eosphoros struggled to stand.

"You can't get up even if you tried. Taking more spiritual energy from the kid could kill him. You're done," Micah said, his voice firm.

"Tempest!" Micah charged up his lightning attack again.

Jeremiah ran between them. "Stop, please!" he cried, stretching out his arm to protect Eosphoros.

"Get out of the way!" Micah ordered, his voice stern.

"No, please listen!" Micah's eyes were drawn to the sigil on Jeremiah's palm. "Who are you, kid?"

"Jeremiah Mason, son of Charles and Judith Mason," he replied, his voice trembling.

"Judith Mason?" Desmond said, his eyes widening.

"Do you know who that is?" Kari asked, her curiosity piqued.

"She and her husband were members of the Insidious Covenant Church and were notorious for satanic worship and rituals," Desmond explained, his voice grim.

"Jeremiah Mason, that demon...?"

"It has always been protecting me from monsters and people who are after me. It has done a lot of bad things, but I can't control it. I've tried. Please, don't kill it," Jeremiah pleaded, bowing his head to the floor. "Please."

Micah exhaled deeply. "For the love of Karlee, get up," he said, his tone softening.

"What?" Jerome shouted in disbelief. "You're not going to exorcise it?"

"I'm not a murderer. I'm not killing a child," Micah replied firmly.

"Exorcise the demon!" Jerome insisted, his voice rising.

"Its soul is bound to the child. If it dies, so does he," Micah explained, his tone patient but unyielding.

"So what? It's still a demon," Jerome argued.

"It’s shown it's more human than demon. Protecting isn’t something devils do," Micah countered.

"So what now?"