Shadow of the Abyss

The military was in chaos, scrambling armies to combat the dungeon they were struggling to judge, calling it a dungeon within the rank of A or B, possibly an S rank. They couldn't tell with all the fluctuation happening within the Realm. The realm laws were fractured, they'd said, and that most of the people sucked in would be crippled. But Laros was alive; she knew that much.

Syris did not motion a gesture as she stood beside the Reverend Mother, calm as a still lake. Calm and bored.

"You want to send my disciple there?" The Reverend Mother hissed. Nearly outraged by the sheer idea. "Those are demons. Lesser Demons but real bloody demons. Do you have any idea of the powers they hold?"

"He's my son!" Shouted Maylar, losing her cool for a second. She couldn't afford to lose such a valuable asset. "And those demons are limited by the dungeon laws. Most of their abilities are sealed." she protested. "If Syris and a powerful squad of Aros Knights armed with real weapons that can turn even six-tier monsters to paste where they to descend, we stand a great chance.

Even as we speak, the military has managed to create an outpost around the dungeon after it calmed down. We—"

"Altair is there, right?" Syris said, recalling the raven-haired boy with a faint smile. It was boring without him there. Life in the estate had been as dull as it was on Genisis. There had been no one to challenge her, no one who could last more than three strokes from her dagger, none. Even the various dungeons she frequented to grind had been considered dull.

Maylar resisted the urge to spew curses and nodded. "Yes. He was sucked in. But—"

"Then I'll go," Syris said, rising.

The Reverend Mother frowned. "Not alone, you're not. I'll send a Ninth Circle to aid you."

"Is that—

"Necessary?" The Reverend Mother chimed in, folding her arms. "Yes. You know better than anyone the terrors of demons. And if there are so many demons present, what are the chances that there's a devil there?"

Hesitant, Syris couldn't help but ask," Who are you sending."

"Lady Lyain Orsteen."

"That bitch…" said Syris, getting glared at by the Reverend Mother. "Sorry, I mean… no. Not her."

"Then you'll help me?" Maylar asked hopefully.

The Reverend Mother turned to the viscountess, wondering what her lady had planned. It couldn't have been a whim she decided to visit a place swarmed by demons, right? Or is she interested in recruiting that young man now?

"Yes. Though whether we find Laros or not. It is up to Syris and the work of your people," said the Reverend Mother, following after Syris with a dark gleam beneath her white mask.

For a second, Maylar stood there before she began pacing back and forth, nibbling at her thumb. She was worried. Worried about her assets and worried about Altair.

"The Tomb Stone of Laros hasn't cracked, so we know he's alive, but…" She bit her thumb, narrowing her eyes. "But what if Altair kills him? No… the boy couldn't have gotten that strong. The gods have blessed Laros." She looked up towards the skies, clasping her hands together.

[Divine Being, Passion of Sorrow, has heard your pleas.]

A tremor rippled through Maylar's slender figure. And without a moment's hesitation, she fell to her knees and kowtowed as though her life depended on it.

[Divine Being Passion of Sorrow, wonders what you are willing to sacrifice for the sake of your son?]

***

Resting in a carriage, Thanatos had conjured out of thin air. Altair stood in one corner with Reina covered in bandages, staring at the pale-faced man while a skeleton that held the reins steered.

"Where are you taking us?" Altair became the first to ask, struggling not to close his eyes and rest like Reina was. He was drained, and his wounds did little to sway his mind towards the darkness.

"Lady Iliana settled in a village up north," Said Thanatos calmly. "Zagreus is guiding your other party there as well. But I'm sure with your Necromancy, you know this as well."

Still cautious of this man's intentions, Altair conjured two Ravens, sacrificing what little Mana he had left to give him an idea of the level of destruction Fat Mike had caused. He paled when he saw that the blast radius was nearly a thousand miles wide, reforging the region into a basin of such proportions. Altair shuddered once again, feeling he was underestimating the Powers of Mana.

If the power of a Sixth Circle was so dangerous, what about Seventh or Eight Circle? Could a Ninth Circle wipe out a planet?

He sighed, wondering if Hilda or Amilia were able to escape in time.

"This village… are they also hounded by demons?"

"The Hell Tide will not die until that girl does," Said Thanatos calmly, eying the sleeping child. He looked up at the young prince, measuring his guarded expression with a half smile. "Have you decided what you'll do? A devil of the Nine Hells will be looking for that girl."

"Would you also like her head?"

Thanatos shrugged. " I've no interest in killing children."

"Would you?" He asked as if to gauge the man. He couldn't get a read on him. Aside from the calmness he portrayed, Altair felt like Thanatos was like a blank canvas. One free of emotions.

"If needed, yes. I follow the Path of Death. And all things die, be they old or young. I am there to reap their souls. So is the Law of Death." Thanatos closed his eyes, recalling a great many faces, some deserving of death, others not so much. Nevertheless, they were all brought to the underworld to be judged.

'The Law of Death?' Altair had never heard of that. His brow creased, and his suspicion of the man only deepened. Like him, Thanatos was a Second Circle Cultivator, but the presence that surrounded him was insurmountable. He had never met someone with such an aura, not Fat Mike or Cedric, much less Vaiga, a Ninth Circle.

'Could I defeat him?' Altair asked himself.

He had many questions, but… now wasn't the time. He was weak. And tired. His reserves were dry, and his body ached.

"Sleep," Thanatos said, noticing his distress. "It'll take a month to reach the village. I assure you I'll not harm you nor your mate."

Lids struggling to remain open, Altair stared at the handsome man. "How can I trust you?"

"My word is my bond. And it has never been broken. Not now, nor through the endless tides of time."

Altair slept for an entire week before he opened his eyes to Reina's sleeping face, which opened the moment she felt him stir.

Their injuries had all but healed in this short time, but they were still sore and a little disoriented. Suddenly, Altair noticed a strange glint in Reina's golden eyes… a system message. It brought a smile to his lips.

"How dare you look at your system and not me when you wake," He pointed out, biting her cheek as she giggled.

"Stop silly!" she laughed, wiggling her way out of his embrace. She stood up suddenly, remembering Thanatos, who was locked in meditation. Pulling Mana from the air, he was motionless like a still tree when he opened his eyes as if sensing her stare.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," Reina said and glanced at Aria, who had not woken. Her body had taken a good thrashing. Despite not taking much physical damage, her insides were sure to have taken some significant damage, damage Altair had fixed before his consciousness drifted away. She smiled, lifting the girl into her arms, feeling her warmth.

"It's good to see you awake," Thanatos said. "I'm sure you've much to ask me. Much about your Mother, I surmise, and why I was chosen to be one of your Bannermen."

Altair crossed his legs and nodded. " Yes, I—" A sudden popping noise came as the carriage went over the bump, stalling the prince's words when it came.

[Ding]

[Aria Silvermane has died]

[Mission Accomplished]

Eyes widening, Altair whirled in a panic, meeting with the bloodstained eyes of Reina and the snapped neck of the girl dangling from her hands. Limp… and dead. Blood had begun to pool from the dead girl's nostrils in streams as she hung there.

Howls erupted like thunder from out of his mouth, but Reina heard none of it as she stared at the message in front of her, cold as a winter's breeze.

[Ding]

[Mission: Kill Aria Silvermane]

[Reward: Information on who Poisoned your Mother.]

[Divine Fallen, 'Ouroboros,' thanks you for your hard work and will deliver onto you all you desire.]