“Ira!” Ymir cried out as he shoved her out of the way, but he was a second too late.

Myriad amaranthine chains erupted from the ground at a breakneck speed, all tipped with serrated spear heads.

Though Ira was mostly grazed, a thick cloud of blood was sprayed into the air as Ymir was impaled in several places.

Lilith, sprinting toward Ira and Ymir, was intercepted as a pair of armored Shadow Wardens descended upon her.

“We know who you are, Matriarch of the Lilim.”

Lilith’s facial expression softened at those words. “Hee~hee. If you really know who I am then you should get the hell out of my way, before I butcher you like the swine you are.”

Falling out of the sleeves of the Wardens’ battle dress, were the same amaranthine chains that she had seen just a moment prior.

A childish giggle burst from Lilith’s mouth, changing abruptly into maniacal hysterics. She put both hands to her face and began to gawk at the two men. The whole time, the edges of her lips slowly raised and curled into a lecherous, bloodthirsty grin. “Ahh. Okay! Let’s play for a bit then. Shall we?”

Ira, pushed herself off of the ground and hurried toward Ymir. Inspecting the wounds, she knew they weren’t independently fatal, but there were so many holes that riddled him, she couldn’t tell whether his body could endure that kind of punishment or not.

She lifted Ymir into a sitting position, and tried to wrap her arms around him from behind, as to drag him to safety, but was interrupted by a swift kick to the side of her face from her blindspot.

“You really believed we would welcome you home with open arms didn’t you, Ira?” The armorclad woman spat down at Ira’s face.

Her head throbbing from the blow she took to her temple, she struggled to get the words out, “I... needed to... talk to you... Mora...”

“That’s exactly it, Ira...” She swung her leg back, and kicked Ira in the ribs with her iron greaves. “We don’t talk to traitors,” her voice cracking with hatred, she screamed, “We execute them!”

The chains were thrust upon Lilith, but she slapped them away with ease, only bending her wrist to parry their substandard strikes. With each chain that was directed toward her, she closed two-fold the distance.

As Lilith was nearing arm’s distance to the Shadow Wardens, she let out a theatrical yawn, “I was expecting at least somewh--”

The ground beneath her exploded in a ring of violet. Chains rushed out of the dirt to coil around her neck and bind her wrists and ankles.

Lilith’s complexion had changed from pale to an unhealthy shade of blue; the usual smug grin that rests upon her face was quickly replaced with the look of a girl so desperately gasping for air. Her body hung in suspension off of the ground, as if she were to be drawn and quartered by the enchanted links of iron that ensnared her.

It was a familiar feeling. It was a scene reminiscent of what was forever engraved into Ymir’s soul -- if he even had one at this point.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m powerless. I’m sorry that I couldn’t save anyone. I couldn’t do anything...

A frothy mix of blood and saliva cascaded over his lips from inside his mouth as he rose to his feet. His body was shaking from the amount of blood he had lost and his strength had been sapped from his muscles.

Surely you jest, Ymir. Since you have borne that mark, you are naught but the harbinger of anguish and death.

Through violent tremors, his hands moved with precision, grabbing onto the chains that had gored him. The branding on his arm began to illuminate, as it siphoned the magical energy that flowed through the chains. One-by-one the links began to disintegrate as they were devoured by the raven-black mark upon his skin.

You are rotten to the core...

As the last chain was removed from his body, the scene at the river bank grew quiet. Ira, Lilith, and the three Shadow Wardens all gaped before Ymir. Shrouded in a black aura and eyes burning red with antipathy, he paced menacingly toward the two Wardens who stood before Lilith.

Never again will I make the same mistake.

The brand upon his arm began to twist and warp, engulfing his whole arm in an abysmal black. His fingers contorted, extending themselves into sinister claws. Erecting out from the top of his forearm and shoulder, were twisted, maleficent barbs. Where his skin should have been, it began to harden and crack. Emitting from the fractures, a green miasma. Ymir’s entire arm had become what could only be described as a demonic, exoskeletal armor.

Not offering a chance to defend himself, the Shadow Wardens all abandoned their posts with Ira and Lilith to confront the demon who now approached them.

Gravity took its course and Lilith’s petite body was pulled back down to solid ground; although the chains that bound and suffocated her had dissipated, as to replenish the Wardens’ magical energy, she had long since blacked out from the asphyxiation.

Mora screamed at her men, “Do not let that thing pass!”

A titanic wall of violet magic circles began to enclose the vicinity around Ymir. Unleashing a salvo of chains, they transfixed every centimeter of the earth Ymir tread upon. The force of the barrage was so tremendous that the air surrounding the water’s edge was now completely obscured by a massive cloud of dust.

Neither Mora nor the Wardens could afford to move a muscle, not even blinking was acceptable. They could only wait for the debris to clear; however, the visibility that they wished for would not be regained.

The cloud of dust that once filled the air was replaced by a noxious miasma.

Struggling to maintain control over the horsemen who resided within him, Ymir’s voice split a fine line between human and demon, “Atone for your sins.”

In stark contrast to his movements before, Ymir closed the distance between them in a single burst of speed. His infernal claws gripped the head of one of the Shadow Wardens; the helmet caging his skull began to erode.

A blood-curdling scream chilled the air as the Wardens’ flesh decayed at Ymir’s touch. With nothing left but lifeless bone, Ymir crushed the skull within his vengeful clutch, grinding it into but a fine powder.

The remaining Warden released a half-hearted battle cry to override the fear of the sight to which he was bearing witness. To no avail, he continued his onslaught. Letting loose every tactic and maneuver in his arsenal in an attempt to at least suppress this monster before him, but Ymir only continued to walk down the path of destruction toward him.

Meanwhile, Mora turned to the rear and ran toward Ira.

Bludgeoned and bloody, Ira was in no condition to fight. Her left eye was swollen shut and one of her right ribs had been cracked from the blunt force trauma she had received earlier. She used every last reserve of her strength to maintain her consciousness as she lay on the cold, damp soil of the grove floor.

Mora used the little time her companion had bought her to take full advantage of the situation. Extending her hands toward the forest, she chanted, causing an amethystine glow to effloresce in the darkness beyond the wooded boundary, “O Iron Links of the Wardens, bind and restrain!”

From within the forest line, three amaranthine chains launched outward toward Ira. One bound each of her wrists, pulling her backward. “HNNGH!” The air was expelled from her lungs as she was slammed into the base of a great pine; the third wreathed around the circumference of the tree, whipping across her abdomen, and pinned her up against the trunk of the pine tree.

Looking at the condition of Lilith, unconscious on the floor, and Ira, constricted against the tree, Ymir decided to speed up the process.

“Playtime is over.” His infernal intonation resounded across the landscape. Ymir grabbed onto the chains that lashed and lunged at him, and gave them a dominant pull.

Not relenting in his flurry of attacks, “WHY WON’T YOU DIE, YOU MONST--” Looking down at Ymir, the Warden saw the demon’s eyes exuding a deep, crimson haze; continuing down further, he saw a raven-black arm goring his solar plexus. That would be his last sight before his body withered away from the decay brought unto him.

Ymir, released the decomposed remains of the man whom he had disemboweled. The breeze had shifted and the stench of putrefaction fouled the air. Turning his gaze to Mora, who held a blade to Ira’s throat, and walked toward her, the flora languishing around him with each step.

“Don’t come any closer!” Unable to contain her fear, her body trembled. The blade within her hand drew blood as it grazed Ira’s neck.

He drifted closer toward Mora, paying no heed to her warning.

“I’ll kill her if you come any closer!”

Ymir stopped in place, but not as if to give purpose to Mora’s desperate cries. He raised his right arm before him, the palm of his hand directed forward. “Symbiosis.” A void rift had torn open in the space ahead of his grim hand. Now hovering in front of it was a ring of magic similar to the ones that had previously been cast against him; however, in place of its usual violet hue, this one in particular reflected the color scheme of his arm -- jet black with a green outline. “Chains of Corruption.”

Exploding out from the spell circle and leaving a trail of pestilence in its wake, the spear-tipped chain made its way toward Mora. Unable to grasp how Ymir was able to manifest her clan’s chains, all she could do was stare as she was ruthlessly lanced through her shoulder.

Ymir whipped the links that were embedded in her over his shoulder, flailing Mora behind him only to return to the earth with a meteoric impact.

Before walking over to the girl he had just battered, Ymir shifted to Ira, still pinned to the tree with tears of pain welling up in her eyes. He said no words, only devouring the magic bindings that restrained her with his cursed hand. Kneeling down, he slid his arms underneath her legs and back and carried her to set her aside Lilith’s unconscious body.

Returning to his target, he stood over a bruised and mutilated Mora like the shadow of death itself. The curtain of Ymir’s hand was prepared to close upon her now pitiful life.

Tears streaming down her destitute face and blood pouring from the wound in her shattered shoulder, she lay there helplessly. She looked as though she were a poor beggar, who had been abused in the streets; she cried out for mercy, choking on her own words, “P-Please... s-save... me...”