The monster's strength was more than he could bear. Even if he had his full stretch, he knew he would be powerless before it, a newborn baby in the hold of its parent, entirely at its mercy and whim. As the demon's eyes slanted, burning with the same force that seared the land, Shabuto could feel an irresistible pull drawing him in, a vat of unending despair. Was this chaos, this destruction, all because they tried to leave? Was this place under some curse that drew misfortune to them, or was it his simply being that brought this about? All the struggling, the week of planning...was this the price of their freedom? The closer the demon's hand got to him, the faster his heart raced, his eyes shifting between the witch, the monster, and his friends. The sight of their suffering washed him in agony. The staff? That's what this was about; he knew the damn thing was no good the moment he laid eye on it but found it impossible to leave without it; no matter how many times he tried to be rid of it, it would just find it's way back to him, like a phantom haunting him. A nightmare that never ended.
"No...please....we just..."
The demon's hand just barely reached his nose as he cried out.
.
"WE JUST WANTED TO GO HOME!"
In that instance, his cries joined the raucous song of Erosia. His desperate plea, the lamentation of his soul, the crushing of his spirit, the essence of its demonic counterpart so near, caused the demon item to blossom a fearsome crimson flare. A horrendous cascade of dark energy repulsed the demon from Shabuto, freeing him of its grasp.
" An Oath burned in blood and bone, The Wind within you, it's light...give it to me as your offering...In return, I shall make you the wrath of the skies, Incarnate."
The weapon unfurled before him, and the many bandages stitched with selling wards meant nothing as if they were powerless crises. Shabuto watched in a stupor as his eyes reflected the smoldering staff of power. A font of demonic energy unlike anything he had ever witnessed before. The voice...the one from his nightmare. He was hesitant, but as he watched the life drain from his friends, he grew resolute. Caution be damned; the conquest didn't matter. If he could save his people, win his freedom, and put this unfortunate realm behind him, he would give anything...whatever he has left.
" Fine. I accept I don't care; save my friends!"
"And so, it was once and shall be again..."
A series of sharp, needle-like appendages sprung from the staff, like a row of spectral teeth manifesting and digging into Shabuto's flesh. The spines did the same, burrowing into his body and aligning alining on his consuming and replacing it. This heinous act would see Shabuto's body undergo a terrifying metamorphosis as his body became imbued with the demon's twisting malice. His bones crack, his body contorted in pain as wind naten, sapphire, and glittering as crystal swarmed around him like a violent twister, becoming corrupted by the demon's magic to become a pitch-black gale. As the gales faded,
a being emitting a sinister presence emerged Hair that roared like a mane of flame stained with soot. With ivory bone protruding over his left arm, ebbing with a mystical countenance, Mistral, in the palm of a demon.
"Centuries upon centuries trapped within the stone with naught but the raging winds of the Archipelago to accompany me, yet now the winds of freedom embrace me once more. Ah, Blue, so nice to see you again."
The young appearing demon eyes carried a steady madness, an aware insanity.
"Alas, so swift this reunion must be. For unlike you."
The Gateway roared and thundered, extending his left arm as the dark winds tinkered with the bones in it. He stretched it behind him.
"I keep my promises, cao."
A single ava and a maelstrom of demonic ash encaptured them all: Shabuto, his guildmates, Haylin, and Cass were devoured by a fleet of soot, its glass so fierce that even the flares of the dead flame that empowered Sophia's binds found it nearly impossible to sustain itself. Behind his other hand, a gateway like a door would manifest, bursting open and allowing the darkness to pass through, leaving the island. Their destination was unknown to even him, scattered to the minds like a passing memory.