The survivors returned broken.
Their steps were heavy as they crossed the threshold of their clans' ancestral gates. Eyes once bright with ambition now held only exhaustion, a hollow fear carved deep. Their robes were torn, their weapons dull with blood not their own.
No cheers greeted them. Their clans rejoiced quietly, relief tempered with unease. For though the prodigies had survived the Ground of Hell, the look in their eyes spoke louder than any words: We will never go back.
Each survivor said the same thing.
They swore oaths before their elders. They would not step into that cursed land again, not even if promised eternal glory. For in the abyss, they had glimpsed despair beyond measure.
---
The Alarm of Heaven
High above the Gold Continent, ripples broke across the divine clouds. A figure clad in shimmering gold armor descended, his presence vast yet restrained. His aura made mortals kneel unbidden.
The Gilded Steward, weakest among the true gods, had been sent by the Divine Council. His task was simple: investigate the anomaly of survivors.
He stepped into the grand plaza where the four survivors had been summoned. His gaze swept over them, piercing as sunlight.
"You four," his voice thundered, calm yet suffocating. "You walked out of a place where none return. Explain."
The survivors trembled. None dared meet his eyes. The god's power pressed down, a mountain upon their chests.
The steward closed his eyes briefly, extending his divine sense into them. Threads of gold light wove through their bodies, searching for traces of that aura.
Nothing.
His eyes opened, sharp. "The bearer of the Immortal Book is not among you."
The plaza erupted in whispers.
One of the survivors fell to his knees, his voice cracking. "Great One… we—we don't know how we lived. We thought we would die in the abyss like the others. Kael… it was Kael who—" He stopped, panic flaring in his eyes.
The steward's gaze sharpened. "Speak."
The youth swallowed hard. "It was Kael who allowed us to live. He faced… things we could not."
---
Testimony of Fear
The survivors spoke in fragments, voices trembling.
"There were beasts… endless beasts. Rank Eight, Rank Seven, Rank Six… even Rank Four…"
The continent masters, gathered at the edges of the plaza, stirred in disbelief. Rank Four beasts were nightmares for entire sects, not prey for youths.
"You fought Rank Four beasts and lived?" one master barked. "Impossible!"
The survivor shook his head frantically. "Not us. Him. Kael. Twice he faced them. Twice he held the line. Without him, none of us would have left that abyss alive."
Another survivor added, voice breaking: "It was dark. No sun, no moon. We fought blind in endless blackness, surrounded on all sides. Every step was despair. We don't even know how we left… suddenly, we were just cast out."
---
The God's Judgment
The Gilded Steward's expression darkened. His voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"That was not the Ground of Hell."
The plaza hushed instantly.
He raised a hand, golden light crackling at his fingertips. "What you described… it is the Abyss Void. A fracture in reality, born of the first war between gods. It is a prison, a scar where natural law itself has twisted. Mortal trials cannot create such a place."
The continent masters paled. Even they knew the name—an ancient terror whispered in forbidden texts.
One master stepped forward, bowing. "Great Steward… if it was truly the Abyss Void, then how did they leave?"
The steward's eyes glimmered with divine fire. "Because the one the Immortal Book chose still breathes within. The Void itself obeyed his presence."
The survivors' faces blanched. Still breathing…? Did that mean Kael was still inside, alive?
---
Demands of a God
The Gilded Steward turned, his golden cloak rippling like flame. "Open the gate."
The Mystical Continent's master stiffened. "That is not possible. The portal into the Abyss Void consumes the power of a sacred item. It can be opened only once a year."
"Then open it now."
"We cannot. The item is spent of energy."
The steward's aura surged, divine might pressing down on the plaza. Mortals gasped for breath, their knees buckling. "Do you refuse the will of heaven?"
The master bowed deeply, sweat running down his brow. "Not refusal, Great One. It is simply impossible."
The steward's eyes burned brighter. "Then I shall make it possible."
He lifted a hand. Golden energy burst forth, pouring into the portal's dormant core. Runes blazed, consuming divine essence, until the gate trembled and flared with light.
The air vibrated with a low, endless hum. The Abyss was calling again.
---
The Bargain
The steward turned to his messenger, a cloaked figure at his side. He pressed a glowing mark into the messenger's palm.
"You will not follow. You will remain. When I call with this mark, you will open the gate again."
The messenger bowed low. "Yes, my Lord."
Without another word, the Gilded Steward stepped forward. His form dissolved into golden mist, drawn into the churning gate.
The portal rippled once, then stilled.
---
In the Abyss
Far away, deep in the Abyss Void, a presence stirred.
The Rank 2 Divine Beast opened its molten eyes. Its breath rolled across the land like firestorms, its gaze piercing the darkness.
Something new had entered.
A ripple of divine essence brushed against its senses.
The beast's lips curled back, revealing rows of jagged teeth. "So… another has come to play. A godling dares step into my den."
Its eyes shifted briefly. Somewhere far below, Kael still stood, bloodied but unbroken, his fists clenched in defiance.
The beast chuckled, voice like thunder in the dark. "This will be amusing."