Chapter 5: Passus Tractus de Letum
The wind whipped around him as he ran. His thoughts boiled, filling him with a profound sense of purpose, of duty- of righteous anger. It was a feeling he had not felt in years, a welcome release from the aloofness he had been smothered in. His gloves grew tighter as his fists clenched; the icebound night air was soothing against his warm flesh, his racing blood, and through it all, he could not help but smile- Sparda had returned.
His final decision, to leave his family behind and eliminate the enemy for the greater good, had taken form. Sparda moved like a shadow against the moonlight, hell-bent on seeing his foes destroyed. It was a simple plan: he would find their trail, hunt each of them down and slay the devils when they made themselves vulnerable; the threat neutralized, he would then return to his home, his sons, and his wife, and things would go on as they had before. He was confident in his success, that all would go without a hitch, but in the back of his mind, Sparda knew his potential triumph rested on the edge of a proverbial blade. One false move, a careless slip, and he stood to lose everything.
It was a necessary risk.
In due time, he had found his way to the fateful chapel wherein, just a few scant hours before, all Hell had broken loose. As he stood there, he considered the layout of the countryside, and tried to remember the precise location of the Temen-Ni-Gru. He would have to make haste to that location and cut off the Four before they could resurrect it, or worse, reopen the door to the Demon World. Time was on his side, though: the demons had not expected Sparda to go back on his word and, as such, they would be in considerably less of a hurry to get there than he was.
After a moment's consideration, Sparda knew the direction he needed to go and stole away like a thief in the night. From here on out, he would need to keep his wits about him. He would need to stay hidden, out of his enemies' awareness, until the last possible moment. If they discovered his interference, it would be Sparda's loved ones who paid the price for his negligence. That could not be allowed to happen.
Through it all, though, despite the unchecked dangers presented to him, the problems that could easily arise and the consequences should he fail, Sparda could not help but smile. He clenched his fists once more, and the cloth of his gloves pulled taut against his hands. Sparda had returned, and he was out for blood.