Chapter 118: God of the Abyss

Unknown forest,

The black aura coiled violently around Arin’s transformed body as the sinister laughter faded into a low, rasping growl. The forest air grew heavy — the trees themselves seemed to flinch under the pressure.

The entity’s glowing, scarlet eyes narrowed at Zane.

“You…” the voice was layered — deep, distorted, and far from human. “You could sense me… even when I was controlling the artifact inside this mortal boy…”

He tilted his head slightly, the black energy swirling around him like smoke drawn to a storm.

“You seem strong,” he said, a smirk twisting Arin’s lips. “But in front of me… kneel.”

Zane didn’t move. His calm gaze remained fixed on the being before him, amusement flickering in his eyes like faint starlight.

With a flick of his hand, the corrupted Arin raised his arm and aimed his palm at Zane.

From his fingertips, black lightning erupted — crackling with unnatural ferocity — and shot straight toward him.

But as it neared, the bolt veered off course, twisting violently as if hitting an invisible current.

The lightning split, dancing around Zane like repelled by an unseen force field before dispersing into thin air.

The forest fell silent again.

The entity’s eyes widened slightly.

“…As I thought,” it muttered, its smirk returning. “You are strong…”

Zane simply tilted his head, the faint smile never leaving his face.

Zane’s eyes flickered faintly as the ground still sizzled where the lightning had hit.

It’s good I brought him here, he thought. No people around… no unnecessary casualties.

He observed the black haze rippling off Arin’s body, almost like liquid smoke.

His attack wasn’t very potent, Zane continued mentally, but the quality of that mana… it’s dense, corrupted — far superior to the Abyssal that Zayne killed.

A small smile tugged at his lips.

Let’s test him.

Zane spoke calmly, “Hey, who really are you? And this smokey energy of yours…?”

Arin — or rather, the thing within him — began to laugh. The laughter was deep and coarse, resonating unnaturally through the trees.

“Ahahahahaha! Who am I, mortal, you ask?” the being said, voice dripping with arrogance.

“The times have changed so much… that someone dares to ask me that.”

He spread his arms, dark smoke billowing outward like a storm cloud.

“WHO AM I? But I’ll grace you with my name.”

His voice dropped to a menacing growl.

“I am Malzareth… God of the Abyssals.”

Zane blinked slowly.

Hmm… God of the Abyssals? Pretty lackluster, to be honest. I thought he was just a high-rank Abyssal.

Malzareth’s grin widened, exposing sharp, blackened teeth.

“Now enough talking…”

In an instant, he vanished.

The next moment, a thunderous explosion erupted as Malzareth reappeared right in front of Zane, his claw cloaked in smoky energy. The ground cracked open, a crater fifty meters wide spreading from the impact point.

But Zane wasn’t there.

From a short distance away, his voice drifted through the dissipating smoke — calm, mocking, almost lazy.

“Aren’t you pretty weak for a god?”

Malzareth turned sharply, eyes blazing.

“For a mortal, you are quite irritating,” he hissed.

With a snarl, he lunged again, black lightning coiling around his claws as he struck in rapid succession.

Zane sidestepped and weaved through every blow effortlessly, his expression unchanging — as though he were simply walking through the wind.

He’s dodging everything… easily… Malzareth thought, frustration boiling within.

This body is too weak… I can’t even draw out my true power…

Zane exhaled slowly, his gaze steady.

“You’re weak,” he said flatly.

In the blink of an eye, he appeared before Malzareth. His right hand blurred—

CRACK!

The backhand struck Malzareth across the face so fast that even the god’s corrupted senses couldn’t register the movement. His body flew backward like a rag doll, crashing through several trees before he managed to twist midair and regain balance, skidding across the dirt.

Malzareth’s jaw twitched.

He’s fast… much faster than this body can handle.

Zane looked at his own hand in mild surprise.

Hmm… I attacked recklessly.

Then a strange emotion washed through him—something sharp, simmering beneath the calm.

Anger? But not for myself…

His expression tightened.

For Ron? For what Arin—and this thing—did to him?

He chuckled softly, almost amused by his own reaction.

“That’s weird,” he murmured. “But not bad.”

Zane’s smirk returned, darker this time.

“You’ll get your ass beaten for what you’ve done to my student.”

He vanished again.

Before Malzareth could react, countless invisible slashes tore through the air, striking him from every angle. The Abyssal god staggered back, unable to comprehend where the blows were even coming from.

Then Zane appeared above him.

In one swift motion, he seized Malzareth by the throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The corrupted energy around Arin’s body writhed violently.

Zane’s deep purple eyes gleamed like twin voids.

“Time to end this.”

He thrust his hand forward—straight into Malzareth’s chest. But instead of flesh and blood, it felt like plunging into water; his arm phased directly into the core of Arin’s body.

Malzareth’s expression twisted into a grimace.

“You—what are you—”

“Found it,” Zane said coldly. “Let’s remove your dark mana from his system… and cut your leash.”

A radiant light began to pulse from Zane’s arm—clean, pure, overwhelming. The black energy within Arin’s body hissed and boiled away as Zane started to purify the artifact’s corrupted mana buried deep in the boy’s soul.

Malzareth screamed, his voice echoing like thunder.

“ARRRRAAAAAARGHHHHHHH!”

The trees around them quivered as the energy stormed outward.

With venom in his tone, the god roared, “After I crawl free from the Abyss… you’ll be the first one I kill, mortal!”

Zane smirked without letting go.

“Sure. Go ahead. You can try.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a quiet growl.

“So remember my name—Zane Creed.”

Light burst from within Arin’s chest.

The dark horns cracked and vanished. The claws retracted. The black aura dissolved like mist under sunlight.

Arin’s sclera turned from pitch black to white, his irises back to their soft leafy green. His body went limp in Zane’s grasp, the corruption gone completely.

“Very well… Zane Creed…” Malzareth’s fading voice echoed one last time—then silence.

Zane tossed the unconscious Arin to the ground.

—

Everything went black.

No sound. No movement. Only a suffocating void.

A faint voice broke through the silence—familiar, trembling, filled with bitterness.

“I was always a weakling…

Always a loser…

Then I got a chance to be better…

To be—”

But before the sentence could finish—

A calm, mocking voice sliced through the darkness.

“Oh no, no, no…”

Zane’s voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere at once.

“No backstory flashback for you.”

The darkness shattered.

Arin’s eyes shot open as he gasped for breath, his body jolting upright. Sweat dripped down his face, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Blinking, he found himself lying on the forest ground.

And standing in front of him—

Zane Creed.

The man’s posture was relaxed, hands in pockets, expression unreadable. His deep purple eyes looked down at Arin.

Arin froze. The last thing he remembered was the dungeon, the fight with Ron, him standing infront of Zane… then darkness.

“… Zane Creed …?” he whispered weakly.

Zane shake his head slightly. “Time to end this.”

Meanwhile, back in the dungeon’s hidden chamber—

Ron’s eyelids fluttered.

His hearing was muffled, everything distant… yet someone was calling his name.

“…Ron… Ron!”

Slowly, his blurry vision began to focus.

The faint shapes around him turned clear—Lia’s tear-streaked face hovering above him, eyes trembling with relief and fear.

To his right, Selene was kneeling, exhaustion evident in the sweat across her forehead, while Lirael sat nearby, breathing heavily, her staff resting weakly against the floor.

Behind them stood Jax, arms crossed, a tired but genuine smile on his face.

And then Lia noticed his eyes opening.

“Ron!!!” she cried, her voice breaking.

Before he could even react, she leaned down and hugged him tightly, trembling.

“I thought… you died…” her voice shook, muffled against his shoulder.

“I was so devastated…”

Ron blinked, dazed, trying to process her words. His body still ached, but warmth filled his chest.

A weak smile spread across his face.

Still lying there, he slowly raised his hand and gently patted her back.

“It’s okay…” he murmured faintly.

“I’m still here…”

Ron kept gently patting Lia’s back as she clung to him, her tears soaking his shirt.

But then, a tired voice broke the silence.

Selene, her midnight-blue hair damp with sweat, sighed and said between breaths,

“I know you two are having a happy moment, but can we get some credit, please?”

Beside her, Lirael, sitting on the ground and looking equally drained, added,

“Yeah… I was thinking the same thing.”

Lia immediately pulled back, her face turning crimson.

Ron, too, looked a bit embarrassed, scratching the back of his head as he slowly pushed himself upright.

They began explaining what had happened — how they’d found him, how they’d fought their way here, and how Selene and Lirael had healed him.

Ron listened quietly, his gaze soft but sincere.

When they finished, he bowed slightly, his voice calm and full of gratitude.

“Thank you. Both of you. Without your healing, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”

Lirael shook her head, smiling faintly. “We did what we could. There’ll still be a scar, though.”

Ron looked down at his chest — on the right side, a faint circular scar glimmered faintly under the orange red sky.

Before he could respond, Jax, who had been oddly quiet until now, suddenly shouted,

“Bro, you’re alive!!”

He leapt forward, arms wide, but Ron instinctively dodged.

Jax landed face-first on the ground.

“Hey! What’s this difference?” Jax groaned, turning his head. “Lia gets a hug but not me?”

Ron gave a small chuckle. “She didn’t jump on me.”

He extended a hand to help Jax up, and the two clasped hands before lightly bumping fists.

“Glad you’re alive, man,” Jax said, grinning.

“Yeah,” Ron nodded softly, “me too.”

Then he turned to Lirael.

“How are you even here? You all met them in the dungeon?”

Lirael nodded. “Our class ran into them midway while searching for you and the others.”

She and Selene went on to explain everything — about the strange crystals, how the two cores had joined together like puzzle pieces, and what they suspected might happen next.

Ron listened carefully, expression growing thoughtful as the weight of the situation settled in again.

He nodded slowly, understanding the danger that still loomed over them.

Ron let out a small laugh, scratching his cheek. “Um… Lia, you can let go of me now.”

Lia, who was whole time standing close to Ron, her arm intertwined with his, froze. Then her expression shifted—her brows furrowed, and her lips trembled slightly.

With watery eyes, she shook her head. “You bastard… You almost died when you got separated from me.”

Her voice quivered, but there was determination beneath it.

“From now on,” she said firmly, tightening her hold, “I’m going everywhere with you.”

Off to the side, Jax grinned. “You mean even in the restroo—”

Thwack!

Selene’s staff smacked down on his head before he could finish.

“You just don’t listen, do you?” she sighed.

Jax rubbed his head, groaning. “Ouchhh!”

Everyone burst into laughter—the tension in the room finally breaking, replaced by warmth and relief.

But as the laughter faded, Lia’s expression turned serious again.

“All jokes aside,” she said softly, “how did you get so injured…?”

Ron scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Well… it’s a long story.”

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