CHAPTER 51: ONLY ONE COULD CARRY HIM FORWARD.

The ground began to shake—not with a normal rumble, but with a deep, groaning pulse, as if something was trying to rise to the surface.

The ground swayed, rolling like waves. It shifted under his feet, like the ground had turned into liquid.

Then it began to crack.

A jagged chain shot up from the ground, moving fast. It scraped past his foot, missing him by inches.

He didn’t wait.

He ran toward Ana, scooped her into his arms, and took off running.

But out of nowhere, more chains erupted from the ground.

They exploded upward like serpents, tearing through the ground.

The terrain began to rise—uneven, unstable.

The battlefield shifted beneath them.

Massive plates of land twisted, lifted, then slammed together like broken puzzle pieces forced into place.

Sylas leapt around them, dodging chains as they shot past him, one after another, each strike like a whip.

He kept dodging. Kept moving.

Then—he looked up.

The stone beneath them kept rising, forming a massive pillar that reached toward the sky.

Up above, surrounded by clouds and shadows, the chest waited.

It was embedded at the very top—like the heart of this world.

Thick chains wrapped around it, coiling tight like snakes.

The sky above was dark and heavy, filled with swirling clouds. Lightning flickered behind the clouds.

The world went silent.

The only sound was metal grinding against metal—

Chains scraping, tightening, coiling tighter around the chest like it was making sure it couldn’t open.

Before he could react, one of the chains shot toward him.

He leapt backward.

It crashed into the ground, stone shattering on impact.

Then it moved.

Fast.

Whipping back without warning—

Cutting through the air like a viper.

And pierced straight into his chest.

But there was no pain.

No blood.

The chain didn’t pull or tear.

Instead, it turned transparent.

Sylas gently set Ana down, placing her behind him. His eyes scanned the eerie terrain—cold, warped, and unnatural.

Then he turned to Greed.

"What is this?" he asked, summoning his sword into his hand with a flash of light.

Greed spread his arms wide, a grin stretching across his dried face.

"Welcome to my domain, Sir Arthur."

Sylas didn’t wait. He whispered, "Domain."

But nothing happened.

His eyes widened.

Greed chuckled. He raised his long, withered finger and waved it slowly from left to right.

"This is my domain," he said. "Everything has a cost. You don’t get to act freely here."

He paused—then appeared instantly in front of Sylas.

He lifted his finger and pressed it to the center of Sylas’s forehead.

"And I get to pick the payment I want."

Their eyes locked—Greed’s pitch-black voids against Sylas’s flickering light.

"What if I don’t pay?" Sylas asked quietly.

"Then it will slowly drain your energy," Greed replied.

[System Notice]

You are within: [Domain of Greed – Vault of Devouring Chains]

– Activation of Domain requires Sacrifice

– Sustaining Domain drains Energy over time

– Sacrifices restore Energy

"So no matter what I do... I have to sacrifice something," Sylas muttered.

"Yes," Greed said, casually sharpening the tips of his chains. "That’s the rule."

Sylas was trapped.

"So... why my memories?" he asked, voice low.

Greed smirked.

"You see... my mother adores you. She used to tell me stories about your journey. She said it was special. That makes your memories valuable—to me."

Sylas gritted his teeth and gripped his sword tighter.

"Then I’ll cut you down fast."

He dashed forward, blade raised, and brought it down in a heavy side-slash.

The hit connected—slamming Greed into the ground with a violent crash.

But the chains moved instantly, twisting together and forming a thick, rope-like column.

It struck down from above.

Sylas lifted his sword to block. The impact rattled his entire body. His feet dug into the stone beneath him, skidding as the weight of the blow increased.

He felt it—heavier with each second.

The chains weren’t just strong. They were growing denser.

So he let the blade scrape against them, sparks flying, grinding across the metal until, at the last second, he slid free.

The blow struck the ground instead.

Sylas rolled to the side, gasping for air.

That’s when he noticed it.

He was losing energy—fast.

Too fast.

He had no other option—he had to pay for stamina.

The chain embedded in his chest pulsed—glowing faintly. A small orb of light traveled through it, drawn toward the locked chest in the sky.

And just like that... a memory vanished.

He no longer remembered the first friend he ever made.

He remembered them.

But he didn’t at the same time.

His face was there—sort of. Blurry, like fog behind glass.

No matter how hard he tried to picture it, the details slipped away.

The shape of their smile. The sound of their laugh.

Gone.

When he tried to speak their name, his mouth didn’t move. Like the word had been erased from his tongue.

They were still in his heart.

But not his mind.

It wasn’t a valuable memory. He felt slightly better, but it barely did anything.

Sylas turned to Ana, voice low but firm.

"No matter what... don’t summon your golems."

She looked at him, confused—but he didn’t explain.

If she summoned them here, her energy would drain too fast. He knew she was protected, but that protection only held as long as he focused.

(Untouchable King—his passive skill. When tied to him, it worked automatically. But when shielding someone else... it required concentration.)

And right now, he had none to spare.

He turned back.

And kept fighting.

His blade tore through the air, clashing against a storm of chains.

They came from every direction—fast, sharp, endless.

Greed wasn’t just attacking. He was defending.

The chains wrapped around him like armor—twisting, coiling, striking.

They spun around his body like a storm, a perfect rotation of steel.

Every chain moved with purpose—deflecting all his attacks, countering, blocking them.

There were no gaps. No blind spots.

Only defense.

Sylas pressed forward.

Each swing cost him.

So he started giving up the small things.

His first pet.

The feel of its fur. The way it used to follow him.

Its name... already gone.

One memory at a time.

Just enough to keep going.

Then he noticed.

While he was getting weaker... Greed was getting stronger.

The chains moved faster now—heavier, tighter, more aggressive.

And Greed himself no longer looked thin. His form had changed.

He was bulkier. Solid. Growing with every second.

Sylas staggered back, breathing hard.

"So... you’re absorbing my energy too," he muttered, trying to catch his breath.

Greed smiled, voice echoing through the Domain like a blade dragging across stone.

"Took you long enough."

He tilted his head.

"I’m going to deliver you to Mother completely broken."

He realized that he didn’t need to fight him. He could keep that defense up, and Sylas would slowly be drained away.

"Are you going to fight or hide behind those chains like a coward?" he muttered.

At that moment, a chain snapped tight around his wrist. Before he could react, it pulled him forward—fast and hard. Another chain wrapped around his arm, like a chain gauntlet.

Then—he hit him with a brutal punch to the stomach.

The force lifted him off the ground, sending him flying through the air.

Before he could react, Greed swung the chain downward like a whip.

Sylas hit the ground with a heavy thud. The impact knocked the air from his lungs. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

He tried to get up—only for another chain to slam him back down.

Right then, a chain burst from the ground.

It snapped around his wrist—tight, cold.

Another one followed.

Both of his arms slammed down, locking him in place.

He struggled.

But it was no use. The chains didn’t budge.

He was trapped.

Greed was too strong. He couldn’t do this without his Domain.

And Sylas... he was running out of fuel.

The small memories—they weren’t enough anymore. Names of faces he barely—

He was out.

There was only one memory left.

The important ones. The ones he never wanted to forget.

The kind he didn’t want to let go of.

He lay on the broken stone, his energy slipping away, his limbs too heavy to move. Even Ana’s voice felt far now—distant.

And Sylas still hadn’t chosen.

The thought clawed at him.

What if he chose them... and failed anyway?

What if he gave everything—

And it still wasn’t enough?

Then it would all be for nothing.

Their faces.

Their names.

Gone... for nothing.

He lay on the ground, gasping for air. Greed walked toward him, placing his foot on his chest.

Then he pressed against his chest—heavy, crushing.

He was bigger now. Towering. His body had grown, wrapped in chains like armor. His eyes had formed at last—cold and pitch black.

The foot pressed harder.

"Come on," Greed said, voice low and taunting. "Give me something more exciting. The small ones are so boring. I don’t care about your pet."

Sylas let out a dry laugh.

"Keep dreaming."

Greed snarled—and pressed his foot down even harder.

Right then—

Ana’s golem lunged from behind, earth cracking beneath its weight.

"Get away from him!" Ana shouted.

But Greed didn’t kill them.

He didn’t even flinch.

With a flick of his hand, chains exploded outward—wrapping around the golems in midair, suspending them like puppets.

He was waiting.

Waiting for Ana to run out of energy.

He looked down at Sylas, his foot still planted on his chest.

"What do you think will happen once she’s drained?" he whispered, smiling darkly. "What do you think those golems will do then?"

Sylas understood instantly.

The chains weren’t just for control.

They were meant to restrain them until Ana ran out of energy—and then they’d turn on her.

His eyes widened. He realized Greed knew what they did.

"You bastard..."

His energy was almost gone.

He could feel it—his limbs heavy, his chest rising slower with each breath.

His eyes flickered. Once. Twice. Then started to close.

And then—

He was no longer lying on the ground.

He was standing.

Somewhere else.

A space of silence. Of light and shadow.

Two trails stretched out before him.

One led to the people who had known him as Sylas—their faces dim, but warm. Familiar.

Elizabeth. His sister. His mother. Lucian. Ana.

The other path was different.

Lined with the ones who had followed him as Arthur—knights, his wive, his brothers Lancelot. Gwen. Percival.

He stood between them.

Two lives.

Two names.

Only one could carry him forward.