The Protector

Clyde frowned after hearing the being's words. He had pointed at his own chest — his molten ember-veined body serving as the vessel for whatever weapon Asmodeus had hidden away.

Clyde narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

The being exhaled, rolling his broad shoulders as if shaking off centuries of stiffness.

"I mean… that weapon. Or artifact, tool, curse, whatever you want to call it, is sealed inside me," he said, tapping his chest with a clawed finger. "It's been here for longer than I can remember."

A heavy silence fell between them.

The only sounds were the distant crackling of scorched earth and the hot, whispering wind sweeping across the ruined battlefield.

Clyde stared at the being with his unwavering eyes. The being looked back, amusement flickering behind his dim orange eyes.

"You want to take it, I presume?" the being asked, a faint smile tugging at the edges of his cracked lips.