Chapter 86: The Price of Salvation

The **air was still**.

The fractured void that had once **roared with fire and fury** was now silent, a vast, endless expanse of **ashen black and molten gold**, stretching infinitely in all directions.

The broken stars, once **splintering violently** across the sky, had faded into pale, flickering embers, barely visible through the swirling haze of nothingness.

And **Sai sat alone**.

Motionless.

Unmoving.

The massive throne of **jagged stone and golden veins** groaned faintly beneath his weight, its surface **fractured and splintered**, but it held.

And so did **he.**

The **chains of fire** still bound him—**coiled around his limbs**, his chest, his legs—searing bands of golden-black flame **woven through his very soul**, anchoring him to the throne.

He could feel them **tightening** with every breath.

Every heartbeat.

They pulled at him constantly, draining him bit by bit, feeding the prison with **his strength, his will, his existence.**

But he didn't **fight them.**

Because he knew **there was no point.**

He had **chosen this.**

**No escape.**

No hope of freedom.

No future.

Just **eternity in the dark**, bound to the prison, his power **the only thing holding the gates shut**, keeping the world safe.

And **no one would ever know.**

---

### **The Chains Do Not Loosen**

Sai's hands rested limply on the arms of the throne, his fingers **half-curled**, motionless. His once-strong grip—the same hands that had **held blades and tore through monsters**—were now pale and lifeless, **drained of warmth.**

The golden fire that once **blazed in his eyes** was faint now, **dull and dim**, barely flickering.

His chest rose and fell in slow, uneven breaths, but **he barely felt it.**

Because **he wasn't really breathing anymore.**

Not in the way he once had.

His body was still **intact**, his limbs still whole, but **he wasn't human** anymore.

He was **the lock.**

The **prison itself.**

And every second he sat there, **he felt less and less.**

The warmth he had once **fought to hold onto** was already slipping away.

His memories of **Kael's steady voice**, of **Ezren's sharp grin**, of **Lena's eyes searching for him in the dark**—they were already **growing distant.**

Not gone.

But **fading.**

And somehow, **that was worse.**

Because he had **known the throne would take his freedom.**

He had known it would **bind him.**

But he hadn't known it would **steal his memories too.**

**One by one.**

And he was **helpless to stop it.**

---

### **The World That Forgot Him**

Beyond the prison, the **world moved on.**

The hunters who had once **fought by his side**—the men and women who had stood against the gates—**no longer spoke his name.**

The survivors of the guild wars **buried their dead**, rebuilt their cities, and turned their eyes toward **the future.**

The gates were **sealed**.

The monsters no longer **poured into the world**.

The wars that had once **torn through the continents** had ended.

And **the people rejoiced.**

Because they didn't **know the price.**

They didn't know **about the throne**.

About the **man bound to it.**

They didn't know that **their peace was paid for** with his name, his life, and **his soul.**

And **they never would.**

---

### **The Hands That Remember**

Far from the prison, **in the ruins of the distant frontier**, three figures still walked.

**Ezren.**

**Kael.**

And **Lena.**

They traveled **the empty roads**, through the shattered cities and broken valleys—**always searching**, never stopping.

Because **they knew.**

Even if the world **forgot him**.

They never would.

Ezren stood on the **edge of a crumbled fortress**, his hood drawn low, his golden eyes **dim and weary**. His dagger still rested at his side, **untouched and dull**, the edge no longer gleaming with fire.

Because he hadn't **used it** since the day they lost him.

He had fought for **so long**, his blades cutting through the endless hordes of the dungeon gates—**but he hadn't drawn them since.**

Because the battle was over.

And **the only man he had ever trusted** to watch his back was gone.

Ezren's fingers **tightened faintly** at his sides as he stared out over the desolate ridge, his gaze fixed on the distant mountains.

And he wondered—

**Was he still out there?**

Still **breathing**?

Still **fighting**?

Or had he **faded completely?**

Ezren didn't **pray.**

He never had.

But **he did now.**

Not for victory.

Not for vengeance.

Just for **one more day** with him.

Even if he knew **it would never come.**

---

### **The Weight of the Blade**

Kael knelt by the **remnants of a burned-out village**, his massive hands **pressed against the soil**, his head bowed slightly.

The blade of his **greatsword rested at his side**, its edge cracked and broken.

He didn't **carry it anymore.**

He still **sharpened it** from time to time.

But he never **lifted it.**

Because **there was no need.**

The fight was over.

The **gates were shut.**

And the man he had fought beside—the one who had **saved him more times than he could count**—wasn't there to **fight with him.**

Kael's eyes were **distant**, his breath slow and steady, but his hands **trembled faintly** against the earth.

Because **he could still feel it.**

The weight of **Sai's hand gripping his arm** before he walked into the gate.

The **sound of his voice**—low and steady—telling him:

**"Keep them safe."**

And Kael had.

He had **kept the others safe.**

But **he hadn't saved Sai.**

And **he never would.**

Kael's fingers slowly **curled into fists**, his knuckles pale against the cold stone.

And **he didn't stand.**

Because **he couldn't.**

Not yet.

Not without him.

---

### **The One Who Waits**

Lena sat by a **withered tree**, its leaves long dead, its branches gnarled and blackened by the fires of a battle long past.

She sat with her **arms wrapped around her knees**, her eyes **fixed on the distant horizon**, watching the stars slowly **fade into morning.**

Her hands trembled faintly, the **small charm Sai had given her** clutched tightly between her fingers.

She had carried it **for years**, long before they had fought the dungeons.

Before the **kings had risen**.

Before the **gates had shattered.**

And now—**it was all she had left of him.**

She **held it close**, her fingers trembling slightly, her knuckles pale.

Because she could still **feel him.**

Somewhere.

Faint and distant.

Like a candle **flickering on the edge of a dying wind.**

And she **refused to let it go.**

Because if she did—

**He would be truly gone.**

And **she wasn't ready** for that.

---

### **The Chains Will Hold**

Far beyond the broken world, **Sai sat on the throne**, his golden eyes barely flickering, the fire in them **faint and weak.**

But **he was still there.**

The prison still **held.**

And he still **remembered them.**

Even as the chains **drained him**, even as **his memories grew faint**, even as he became **less and less himself**—

He still remembered **their faces.**

**Kael's steady hands.**

**Ezren's sharp grin.**

**Lena's eyes, always searching.**

And even when **he forgot everything else**,

Even when the world **forgot him**—

**He wouldn't forget them.**

And **he never would.**

Because the **chains may have bound him.**

But **they couldn't take them away.**

Not yet.

And not **ever.**