My Primordial Demon System

Silva staggered forward, almost falling down, every step heavy, every breath dragging fire through his chest. The battlefield was nothing but rubble and smoke, the night sky lit faintly by the dying embers of his purple flames. His trident hummed weakly in his hand, the last of its power fading.

The demon lay ahead, kneeling, shoulders trembling. Silva forced himself closer, each footstep crunching against broken stone. His vision blurred, blood dripping into his eyes, but he didn't stop.

"You… won't…" the demon rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper. Then his body flickered, dark energy wrapping around him.

Silva lunged, arm outstretched to grab him,

But the demon's form dissolved into red smoke, vanishing into the night.

Silva's fingers grasped nothing but air. His knees gave out. He hit the ground hard, trident clattering beside him. His vision dimmed, his body refused to move.

"…damn it…" he muttered before darkness swallowed him whole.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound dragged him back. His eyes opened slowly, heavy lids fighting the light above. White ceiling. The smell of disinfectant. The sting of bandages around his chest.

A hospital.

"Silva!" a voice cried. Ella. She rushed to his side, eyes red from crying but filled with relief. Peter was behind her, arms folded, a tired smile on his face.

"You're awake," Peter said.

Silva tried to sit up, but pain shot through his body. Ella pressed him back gently. "Don't. You almost died," she said in a sad voice.

"…What happened?" His voice was hoarse, dry.

Peter exchanged a look with Ella, then sighed. "After you collapsed, we dragged you out." Peter got up and walked to the window.

Peter's footsteps were quiet against the wooden floor as he crossed to the window. He pushed it open and leaned out, the smell of smoke and charred stone meeting him like a wall. Fires burned in the distance; the city's skies were shrouded in drifting black haze. When he turned back, his eyes were dark, reflecting the weight of everything unfolding.

"After you fainted and the demon got away," he said quietly, "I had to drag you back to town. Turns out the town was also not okay." He exhaled through his teeth. "Right now we're still fighting. Multiple gates opened all across the city, A-rank beasts everywhere, and a few higher ones letting orcs pour through. It's not a coincidence. We run into a demon and then gates open? Someone's moving pieces we don't see."

Silva shifted on the bed, the sheets rustling. His eyes were heavy but still sharp, tracing Peter's expression. He drew in a slow, steady breath. "Things are beginning to move too fast…" he muttered.

His mind flashed back to the fight, the trident dancing in his will, the demon's crushing blows, his body breaking under the weight of every strike. And that was only a fraction of the demon's true power. Without Peter's interference, he would have died there. That thought burned deeper than any wound.

Never again.

His fists clenched under the blanket. He remembered Ella, her laugh, her frightened face. The demons were after her for a reason he still didn't understand. But he understood one thing: she was his world. He would rather die than let them touch her.

The door creaked open, breaking his thoughts. Elena stepped in first, her expression shadowed, eyes darting to the bandages at his side. Lily followed, bright as ever despite the tension hanging in the room. She raised a hand, smiling softly. "Hello," she said, her voice light.

Elena moved closer, folding her arms. "You look like hell," she said, though her tone carried more worry than reprimand.

"Well, yeah, I basically just survived a life and death fight, so of course I feel like shit," Silva started, his voice trailing as he tried to find the right words.

She stepped deeper into the room, her boots quiet against the floor. Her eyes, sharp and piercing, locked onto his. "What exactly did you fight?" she asked softly, but there was a tremor in her voice that betrayed her fear. "There are very few monsters that can do that to you."

Silva looked down for a moment, recalling the demon's crushing blows, the burning heat, the way the trident had danced through the air at his command, almost like a part of him. He knew that if he told her, she might panic, or worse, she could misjudge what was coming next. Yet, he also knew she could sense the truth hiding behind his words.

He met her gaze again, seeing the stirring concern in her eyes, the desperate need for honesty. Her persistence reminded him of why he fought in the first place, protecting the people he cared about. But could he really lay bare the magnitude of what had happened? The demon, the gates, the waves of monsters pouring into the city… could he even bear to put all of that into words?

"I…" he hesitated, then exhaled, steadying himself. "Give me some time to think about what happened. I'll explain everything… when I'm ready." His words were calm, measured, but firm.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her arms folding across her chest. She didn't like the answer, not at all. She wanted more, wanted the truth now, but she understood, just barely, that this was better than nothing. "Alright," she said finally, her voice quieter, edged with frustration. "I'll… wait. For now."

Silva gave her a small nod, almost imperceptible. He could feel the weight of her gaze even as she shifted her stance, still wary, still probing silently for cracks in his expression.

Deep down, he knew she wouldn't let it go forever. She was too perceptive, too persistent. She had a knack for uncovering secrets, and she would pressure him, pry him, until he had no choice but to reveal the truth. But for now, he would hold back. For now, he needed to gather himself, to plan, to recover from what had almost ended him.

She turned slightly, not breaking her stare completely. She knew something enormous was happening, something that even Silva hadn't fully disclosed. And she also knew, in her gut, that Silva was carrying the weight of it all. The question was when, and if, he would ever let her in completely.

Elena's expression hardened, her voice steady. "Multiple gates opened across the city. I'm sure your friend already told you what happened. The situation was an emergency, it took every awakened in town just to deal with it. I suspect the cult had something to do with it, though I don't know how yet."

She paused, taking a breath, then continued. "There's something abnormal about it. The awakened guild is already investigating, as are every other major guild. The news has spread throughout the zone, and even outside it a little. I want to conduct my own investigation as well. I need your help, Silva."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with expectation. But before Silva could respond, Ella stepped forward. She placed herself directly between Silva and Elena, her hands trembling slightly, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"No," Ella said, voice shaking but firm. "He's not going."

Elena's brow furrowed. "Ella, "

"Don't," Ella interrupted, her gaze locking onto Elena's. "You don't understand. He almost he almost died. I saw it. I had to watch him thrown around, crushed, bleeding and he kept fighting. Every time he's gone out there, it's for me, for us. He's always putting himself in danger, always sacrificing himself, and I've been pretending I don't see it, pretending it doesn't hurt to watch. I can't do it again. I won't. He's my brother. I won't lose him."

Silva shifted slightly on the bed, still weak, but his chest tightened at her words. He could feel the raw emotion behind every syllable, the fear and the love. Ella had always been his anchor, even as he threw himself into danger without a second thought. He knew that look in her eyes, she wasn't just worried; she was terrified, and her courage to stand up to Elena, to him, was unshakable.

But in his mind he already knew that he had to do this with Elena, for the sake of Ella. He forced himself to get up, he was already healed despite the pain, he walked to Ella and hugged her from behind.