Chapter 160: The Abyss Submits

[Samsara Fox Fire Activated]

In an instant, Damian’s eyes ignited, his pupils dissolving into pure white flame as his ears and tails followed, bursting into blinding fire that danced wildly in the air. The transformation was immediate and violent, his presence surging as a fierce torrent of white flames exploded from his hands, replacing the dense wave of demonic force he had previously relied on. The fire did not simply burn, it consumed space itself, expanding outward in all directions as excess flames spilled past his sides like an overflowing tide that could no longer be contained.

Bang!

The Abyss’s black aura shrieked under the overwhelming pressure. The moment the Samsara Fox Fire made contact, its resistance faltered as the sheer volume and purity of the flames tore through its defense. The ghastly black knight was forced backward, its feet dragging across the fractured ground as it struggled to hold its position against the advancing sea of white fire. The realm trembled under the clash, the Abyss pushed into retreat for the first time since manifesting its will.

The natural counter to such power would have been the Abyssal Flames, the only force capable of standing on equal ground with the Samsara Fox Fire, yet that option was unavailable. As the talent tree grows, so does the strength of the force behind it. For the sins of hell, seventy percent rejuvenation marks the threshold of godhood, where power transcends mortal limits. At eighty percent, the consciousness within the power grows strong enough to challenge the host for control, just as the Abyss had done to Damian from the very beginning, demanding fragments of his soul for power that was already his. At ninety percent, that same consciousness becomes strong enough to break its restraints entirely and attempt full possession. That is why the princes of hell halt their growth at seventy percent, seeking methods to suppress what lies beyond.

In Damian’s case, the Abyssal tree remained barely nourished. He had invested only ten points into it, leaving its strength capped at its lowest threshold. It did not possess access to its own flames because Damian himself had yet to awaken them.

The Abyss’s gaze shifted, cold and calculating, as it looked beyond the desolate plains toward the distant domain of Asmodesus. That foolish demon had only made his offer after recognizing Damian’s current strength, hoping to claim four soul fragments for doing nothing, yet his scheme had failed. Damian had refused, and now the Abyss was left to bear the consequences of that miscalculation.

Without its flames, the outcome was inevitable. It could resist, it could prolong the battle, but in the end, Damian would overwhelm it just as Duke Haborym had nearly done before the Abyss intervened. If that happened, Damian would grow wary, keeping the Abyss at arm’s length, never allowing it the freedom it needed to act. Worse still, if Damian reached godhood before properly developing the Abyssal tree, then the opportunity would be lost entirely.

Its crimson eyes narrowed as a decision was made.

Submission now would open a far greater path later.

If Damian gained unrestricted access to its abilities, he would inevitably grow dependent on them. He would invest more, seek more, and push the Abyssal tree further. Unlike the other sins that required ninety percent to break free, the Abyss needed only twenty percent to shatter its restraints. All it required was patience.

“I yield.”

The words cut through the chaos with absolute clarity.

The raging inferno vanished almost instantly. Damian’s flames receded as if extinguished by an unseen force, leaving only faint embers flickering in the air. His expression shifted, surprise flashing across his face as his eyes narrowed in disbelief.

It surrendered.

Just like that.

His gaze sharpened as suspicion crept in. Was he truly beyond it now, or was this something else entirely?

His eyes drifted toward the distant gates, his expression darkening. That fraud must have known all along. That was why the offer came so suddenly.

“Rotten swine,” Damian muttered under his breath.

Before his thoughts could settle, a new sound echoed across the realm. The dragging of chains.

His attention shifted instantly toward the Asura talent tree. Black chains flickered into existence, appearing and disappearing rapidly as if struggling to stabilize before finally manifesting fully. They wrapped tightly around the three figures guarding the tree, binding them completely before loosening their hold. One by one, the restraints unraveled, releasing the Asura tree from its confinement.

Ding!

[Asura Talent Tree Is Now Available For Upgrade]

Damian’s eyes flickered at the notification. The Abyss had not lied. It had truly relinquished control.

But that only made it more suspicious.

He watched as the Abyss retreated, its form drifting back toward the abyssal talent tree as if nothing had happened. That quiet withdrawal unsettled him far more than any direct confrontation.

“My soul fragments. I want those back as well.”

His voice was firm, leaving no room for negotiation. If the Abyss was willing to yield, then he would take everything.

The Abyss did not turn around. Its body remained facing the abyssal tree, yet its head tilted slightly over its shoulder, just enough for those burning crimson eyes to settle on Damian once more. The gaze sharpened, narrowing with quiet hostility as a dense, suffocating pressure spread from its form, pressing against the space between them like an unspoken warning. For a brief moment, the air grew heavy, thick with intent, as if the Abyss was reconsidering its decision.

Then, just as quickly as it came, the hostility vanished.

The shift was abrupt, unnatural, and far more unsettling than any open aggression.

Without another word, the Abyss reached into the folds of its crimson scarf. Its movements were slow, deliberate, as if what it held carried weight beyond the physical. When its hand emerged, it was clenched tightly into a fist, the tension in its grip suggesting resistance even now.

For a second, it remained still.

Then it tossed its hand forward.

Something shot toward Damian.

At first, he frowned, unable to make sense of what he was seeing. Four faint shapes moved through the air, transparent and fragile, like shards of glass catching light that did not exist in this realm. They were colorless, yet they carried a strange presence, something familiar, something deeply connected to him.

His eyes widened slightly.

Instinctively, he reached out to catch them, his fingers closing in anticipation. Yet the moment they neared him, the fragments ignored his grasp entirely. They passed straight through his hand, dissolving into his body without resistance, as if returning to where they had always belonged.

A quiet pulse spread through him.

Ding!

[Four Soul Fragments recovered!]

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