Chapter 178: Beginning the Descent!

Under the vast, star-drenched sky, the world seemed to breathe slower atop the mountain. The only sound being the wind which blew in a soft and steady rhythm while the duo of Orphelia and Albedo sat atop the smooth volcanic stone, looking out into the Demonic Sea.

“I could stay here forever,” she murmured, tracing idle shapes in the air using her Mana, “It’s one of the few places in the world where I can solely focus on my magic,”

Albedo glanced down at her, resting his forearms on his knees. The wind stirred his platinum blonde hair as faint wisps of mana brushed past him like soft ribbons, “You really love it, don’t you?”

“Magic?” She smiled faintly, eyes still fixed on the horizon. “It’s everything. The world is built on it, yet no one really understands it in my opinion. We think we do, the Academies teach us about structure, casting formulas, all the pretty theories, but that’s just surface-level. Magic is more like…”

She paused, searching for the word, “…breathing. It’s the heartbeat of the world. Everything has it, even things that shouldn’t. Magic inherently makes no sense, yet it also does, it’s a paradox and I find that fascinating,”

Her quill began to move again, sketching what looked like a spiral, no, a formula, written in the complex weave of various runes mixed with human arcana, “That’s why I study it. To understand what it means to be alive through mana, because I don’t want to live in a world where everything magical becomes ordinary.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them. The sea wind tugged at their hair and clothes, carrying the briny scent of the waves and the faint pulse of mana from the depths.

The moonlight painted Orphelia in faint silver, and Albedo found himself noting how serene she looked, almost ethereal.

Then, with a small chuckle, she broke the moment, “Besides, magic never lies. People do, politics do, even history does… but mana always tells the truth. If you learn to listen.”

Albedo looked at the Demonic Sea as he responded, “You sound like a philosopher,”

“Maybe I’d be one,” she said with a shrug, “if it didn’t pay so terribly.”

He actually laughed at that, a low, quiet sound that drew a satisfied smile from her.

Hours passed quietly after that. Orphelia worked through half her notebook, sketching arrays and muttering to herself about mana harmonics and field resonance, while Albedo simply watched the sea.

By the time the lanterns below began to dim, signaling the approaching hour, the faint hum of the city reached them once more. The mana currents in the air shifted subtly, becoming denser.

Albedo glanced toward the horizon. “We should head back. The teleportation circles open soon.”

Orphelia looked up, blinking as though waking from a trance. “Already? Ugh, time moves too fast when it’s peaceful.” She closed her notebook and slung her satchel over her shoulder, the faint gleam of mana ink flickering across her fingertips.

The two descended the mountain together. The walk was quiet, broken only by the faint whistle of the sea wind and the sound of distant gulls. When they reached the edge of the city, the harbor was alive again with activity.

All the various students had already gathered near the massive obsidian plaza where eight enormous teleportation circles glowed, their surfaces lined with golden and crimson runes that pulsed like heartbeats.

Around them, several Demon officers were preparing the teleportation anchors. As these were mass teleportation circles usually used for military or Noble use, it was far more advanced than standard ones.

The Officers used various obsidian pylons to channel mana into the various magic matricies, each circle glowing brighter by the second as the spatial magic stabilized.

“Alright, everyone,” Ysvara called, her voice carrying easily above the noise. “We’ll be teleporting directly to the Southern Military Outpost near Vorago. Once there, you’ll receive your diving gear and mana regulators from the Archeological Division of the Demon Kingdom’s maritime corps, who’ll also be our guides in Vorago,”

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

Albedo glanced toward the sea once more, the glowing horizon still visible in the distance. Beneath those waves lay Vorago, the second great Demonic City ever built, dragged into the Demonic Sea as the Abyss emerged all those years ago.

The teleportation circles flared then, brilliant light cutting through the night as the air crackled with spatial energy. One by one, groups of students stepped forward, their figures dissolving into golden motes before vanishing entirely.

When their turn came, Orphelia adjusted her satchel, gave him a teasing smile, and said, “Try not to die before I finish documenting your Soul Weapons.”

Albedo smirked faintly. “No promises.”

They stepped into the light together, and the world dissolved in a blinding shimmer of mana.

In the next instant, the sea’s scent was gone, replaced by cold air, metal, and the rhythmic pulse of machinery. They had arrived at the Southern Military Outpost, the edge of civilization before the area where Vorago sunk.

When Albedo’s vision cleared, he found himself standing on a vast metallic platform that stretched toward the horizon, a place where the land met the endless edge of the Demonic Sea.

The ground beneath their feet was forged from blackened steel and obsidian plates, reinforced with glowing red mana conduits that pulsed like veins beneath glass. Above them, faint auroras of violet and blue shimmered across the cloudy sky.

The Southern Military Outpost.

Massive mana cannons lined the perimeter, aimed toward the sea, their barrels covered in rune-etched plates. Tall towers with crystal beacons monitored the surface waters, each flashing rhythmic bursts of light, the code of Demon sentinels keeping watch over what lay beneath.

“Feels more like a fortress than an outpost,” Zeus muttered, craning his neck.

“Because it is,” Ysvara replied smoothly as she stepped forward. Her presence drew immediate attention. Demonic soldiers in dark naval uniforms snapped to attention the moment they noticed her, striking their fists against their chests in salute.

The lead officer approached, a tall, broad-shouldered man with horns of polished obsidian curving back from his head.

His crimson eyes gleamed beneath a rune-lined visor, and his armor bore the insignia of the Maritime Division of the Demonic Army, a stylized trident impaling a spiral of abyssal waves.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing low. “It’s an honor to have you with us again.”

Ysvara smiled faintly, her wings folding behind her, “Captain Varas. I see the Outpost hasn’t rusted away without me.”

He chuckled, a low rumble. “Barely. The storms nearly tore one of the northern pylons apart last month, but the new wards held. You always said we needed more storm-breakers, turns out you were right, as usual.”

Her smirk deepened. “I’m always right.”

The captain turned his attention to the gathered students. “So these are the various Academy representatives,” he said, voice carrying easily over the hum of machinery.

“Welcome to the Southern Military Outpost, the last safe step before the Abyssal Zone of the Demonic Sea. I’m Captain Varas of the Maritime Division’s Archaeological Wing, my men and I will be handling your descent preparations.”

He gestured for them to follow as a group of uniformed officers moved in, each carrying metallic cases and rune-imbued clipboards.

The group followed him down a long ramp that led into a cavernous hall built beneath the main platform. The interior glowed with faint blue light from massive crystal lamps embedded in the walls.

Dozens of technicians worked in organized precision, inspecting diving harnesses, adjusting runic tanks, and calibrating mana-pressure regulators.

“This,” Varas said, motioning to the equipment, “is the Abyssal Descent Gear, or ADG for short. Designed by our Division for deep-sea mana exposure and pressure resistance. Each of you will be fitted with one before the descent towards the Sunken City,”

Orphelia leaned forward to get a better look as a demon technician opened one of the cases. Inside rested a sleek black bodysuit lined with thin filaments of silver and crimson. At the chest was a small, pulsing mana core, connected to two crystal cylinders at the back — the regulators.

“The suit will harmonize with your mana signature,” Varas continued. “It reinforces your barrier under high pressure, filters impurities from the sea’s corrupted mana, and provides clean mana through alchemic conversion. You’ll also receive a communication link that operates through pulse resonance rather than sound, works even underwater.”

Kayle examined the suit’s surface, running her fingers across the runes. “So… this can protect us from the Sea’s corruption?”

“To an extent,” Varas said. “The Demonic Sea is unpredictable, dense with unstable mana currents. Even with these, you’ll feel the weight. But the suits will keep you alive and make movement much easier,”

He motioned to the vast glass wall at the end of the chamber. Beyond it, the Demonic Sea churned under the outpost’s lights. Faint silhouettes could be seen moving in the depths, massive, indistinct shapes gliding through the abyssal blue.

“The descent will be handled through our Submersible Elevators,” Varas explained. “Think of them as reinforced capsules, they’ll take you down in groups of six to the submerged ruins of Vorago. Once there, you’ll link up with our stationed teams and await further instructions from the Archaeological Command.”

Orphelia scribbled quick notes, murmuring, “Submersible elevators… harmonic field descent rate, controlled compression layering… fascinating.”

“You’ll have time to study them later,” Varas said with a grin. “For now, everyone report to the fitting area. The suits will adjust automatically once activated, but don’t force your mana through them, they’ll adapt on their own.”

Ysvara nodded approvingly. “Efficient as ever, Captain. Make sure they’re all ready within the hour. I don’t want anyone lagging behind once the descent begins.”

“As you command, Your Majesty.”

The officers moved quickly, distributing the suits. One by one, students disappeared into the fitting chambers. The hum of mana regulators filled the air, mingled with the low thrumming of the sea outside.

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