Chapter 86
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Chapter 86: Reopen
Shirel was very lucky.
In the chaotic world of Aryan, creatures from the abyss and descendants from the Heavenly Realm have left their bloodline in the Primary Material Plane. Through breeding, creation, parasitism, infection, blessings, or curses, gods and demons have mixed bloodlines from different realms into Aryan.
The presence of hybrid demon bloodlines and mixed divine descendants among humans is not particularly rare; most of them have distinctive physical features. Descendants from the Heavenly Realm mostly have golden or silver hair, eyes that shimmer with light, and some even have wings. Abyssal descendants mostly have red or black hair, solid-colored eyes where the iris fills the entire eyeball like a colored sphere, and horns are a common feature of demon descendants.
When inhabitants of the Primary Material Plane expelled beings from the Heavenly Realm and abyss, and started attacking the remaining creatures on earth from different realms, these distinct features became too noticeable.
It wasn’t all just accidental harm; when forced to take sides, most descendants of angels and demons would respond to the call of their bloodline and fight for their kin from other realms. The gift of bloodline often gives them a higher starting point; they are born instigators and disruptors, and even if only one out of ten becomes an uncontrollable madman, the damage they cause is concerning.
Moreover, the actual likelihood of an outbreak is almost ninety percent.
It is very troublesome when your bloodline determines your nature. Creatures with blood from the Heavenly Realm crave faith, while beings with demon blood crave souls. When these two meet, they itch to have a fight. These desires come from within, from instinct, and cannot be easily changed by education or willpower alone. It’s like trying to make someone who loves staying up late go to bed early, or convincing a dragon to give up treasure. Success in overcoming these instincts is rare and difficult.
The indigenous Aryans, who were greatly weakened by the plane war, will not allow these mixed breeds to stay.
After the great war between realms, each race conducted clean-up operations. When humans took charge, instruments were used to test for different bloodlines, resulting in another round of clean-up. During the most chaotic times, even people with unusual hair colors were affected. Those who did not fit the criteria of the Aryans were not supposed to survive.
Shirel’s ancestors were very lucky to have escaped the initial clean-up and quickly integrated into society. The Primary Material Plane has a strong assimilation ability, slowly turning outsiders into natives over time. The distinct features from other realms eventually became slightly enhanced talents, making the descendants of demons blend in with others and evade detection. By Shirel’s generation, the family had no recollection of any connection with demons.
If Shirel had lived a normal life, he would have died as a regular human.
But then the train exploded.
The general, teetering between life and death, awakened his demon bloodline.
Shirel was incredibly lucky that his awakened bloodline was a rare throwback, supported by the blood of an Angry Demon Descendant. Without this bloodline’s protection, he wouldn’t have survived the explosion, let alone remained in a coma for over a decade and wake up lively. The technological level of the Aryans at that time couldn’t sustain a comatose patient for over a decade. The awakened bloodline fought off death and transformed him from an ordinary person into a demon-like appearance over those years.
Shirel was very lucky. While he barely survived in the burning train car, he coincidentally encountered a chaotic retreat of the army, managing to escaper back to the capital city. His heavily burned skin showed no signs of injury, and his closed eyes revealed nothing unusual. When the changes in his body finally emerged, his family was able to hide him and claimed he was dead rather than let him be executed and burned as a leftover from the abyss.
In the capital city, there was a special device called the Abyssal Factor Detector. It could detect Abyssal Descendants with awakened powers. At a critical moment, it would expose Shirel to everyone, leading to a certain judgment. However, by the time the general awakened to be detected by the device, Tasha had taken it away, and the Craftsman Dwarf was busy dismantling it for research. As the detector was mostly dismantled, it did not reveal the demon offspring.
So, Shirel was very fortunate to have survived until today, comparable to the main characters in any legendary story.
Unfortunately, Shirel himself probably didn’t think so.
The old mansion was very ancient, with time slowly erasing the traces left on the beach. Hundreds of years ago, when nobles still existed, during the era of nobles trading with demons, this underground space was nothing like it is now. Before the collapse caused by years of neglect, this used to be a spacious basement with moonlight skillfully designed to filter through imperceptible cracks and project onto the floor.
The former owners of the mansion had long turned to dust, and the exquisite human-built structures were abandoned and forgotten. But for certain remnants, a few hundred years didn’t count as a long time.
The blood of the Angry Demon Descendant flowed in the shattered mirror.
The circular mirror on the ground shattered into countless pieces, reflecting numerous demon faces. The shattered Shirel did not glance into the mirror again, nor did he notice the demon reflections in the bloodstained mirror had different eyes from his own.
"I must be dreaming. It’s definitely a dream, a terrible one." Shirel muttered to himself.
The hollow voice seemed to come from someone else’s throat. Yes, such weak words definitely couldn’t have come from him. This must be a dream, and everything could be understood. Shirel was dazed under the impact, his ability to think dulled, so when the creature in the mirror spoke, he still didn’t realize there was another presence in the abandoned underground passage.
"It must be a dream," the creature in the mirror said enticingly, "I want to have a good dream."
"Yes," Shirel repeated dazedly, "I want to have a good dream."
His blood flowed more fiercely as he nodded in agreement, but Shirel, accustomed to pain and under a great shock, did not notice. Fresh blood gushed out, eagerly rushing towards the shattered mirror, but the small depression seemed never to fill up, the blood red disappearing so quickly, as if something had sucked it away. Faint shadows moved in the mirror, the broken images converging into one.
Describing the current scene, any onlooker would definitely notice that something was wrong.
Shirel, a brilliant graduate of the Aryan Military Academy, had of course heard of demons, and demonic pact was always a popular topic at the military school. Young students with nothing to do liked to tell various horror stories before lights out, and Shirel was always one of the least cooperative listeners. Any story involving a demonic pact would have its flaws pointed out by him right from the start.
"Come on, don’t ruin the story!" the storyteller wailed, "Can’t you just listen to a story properly?"
"Even fictional stories should have some basic logic," Shirel said disdainfully, "If the protagonist is so foolish, even the most terrifying story is just a joke."
He looked down on anyone who could be deceived by demons.
Everyone knows there’s no such thing as a free lunch, so why would anyone believe making a deal with a demon would lead to a good outcome? When presented with the most classic stories, Shirel could logically point out the flaws in the interactions between the demons and the protagonists, speaking eloquently and confidently. The protagonist of one story died due to greed, another due to jealousy, and why wouldn’t the poor person strive for success? Just because of a failed love, how could they go from self-pity to being deceived by a demon? In the end, it was all about being lazy, foolish, and weak; humanity had actually been defeated by demons, a true disgrace.
"Demons can see into people’s hearts, they are best at striking when there’s an opportunity!" The person who was being accused defended, "Even if it was you in that situation…"
"That’s great!" Shirel said proudly, "I haven’t encountered them, it’s my regret, it’s their luck."
Shirel hated those foolish people who were deceived by demons, he thought they deserved to suffer, if it were him, he would never be as incompetent as them. Sometimes he even hoped for remnants of Aryan and demons, hoping for a chance to confront the minions of the abyss.
Now, lucky Shirel has got this opportunity.
Sadly, he had no clue at all.
When it happens to someone else, the phrase "seizing the opportunity" sounds so simple, the listeners can’t truly understand its meaning. If someone else witnessed what was happening to Shirel at that moment, they might end up cursing him for being a fool. How weak and foolish, the collapsing Shirel had no idea what was lurking in the mirror, as they conversed, as the pact was silently forming, he thought he was daydreaming.
Strictly speaking, the presence in the mirror is not even a demon.
It is just one of the many after effects of a great demon, a remnant left behind, surviving under various calculations and strokes of luck. The air around shows strange distortions, invisible ripples are slowly spreading, Shirel’s bleeding and contorted legs as if melting near a heat source. The boundaries of dimensions are trembling, the tremor is tiny but enough to create massive waves on the other side.
"If none of this had happened, would all sacrifices be worth it?" the mirror said, its voice now different from Shirel’s, more deep and rich, the hissing tone making one’s heart itch, unknowingly making one want to nod.
So Shirel nodded, his legs starting to melt like a burning candle.
"Whether it’s my body or my soul, as long as it can end this nightmare, it’s fine with me," it said gently.
Yes, Shirel said, his tongue melting into the air.
"So we have an agreement." the mirror chuckled quietly.
Contract established.
The nightmare ended, Shirel was no more, his detested inhuman form turned into a puddle of blood, completely merging into the cracks in the floor. The dusty runes devoured flesh and soul, spreading out in a spiderweb-like magic array with the mirror at its center.
Creak—
Like a rusty door pushed heavily, the dimension emitted a silent roar.
*
Bang!
The Book of Dungeons fell to the ground.
Victor suddenly jumped up, a brief moment of confusion followed by a rush of horror and panic through the connection, like a sudden hurricane. "What’s wrong?" Tasha asked him. Several seconds passed before he finally spoke.
"Oh no," he said dryly, "someone has just triggered the backup plan I set."
"Can’t you remember it earlier?" Tasha sighed.
"Being separate is a necessary condition, the merge wouldn’t come to my mind unless it’s triggered!" Victor exclaimed in frustration, "That Soul Fragment had just completed its mission and returned to me!"
Tasha grabbed the flailing book, placed it back on the shelf, determined not to dwell on such annoying issues. She cut to the chase and asked, "What happens when triggered?"
"…The Abyss Passage might be opening," Victor whispered.
Silence fell.
"Hasn’t Abyss Passage been cut off?" Tasha furrowed her brow.
"In theory, yes, but when a door is welded shut, leaving a hinge could create a crack; when a ship is swept away by waves but anchored, there is still hope to return… that’s probably the idea," Victor chuckled, "I was quite the genius back then."
The eradication operation against demonic remnants has never ceased for hundreds of years, so how could any devilish tricks be left behind in Aryan? Before she could speak, Tasha suddenly realized something.
Victor did not have the essence of the abyss.
As Oak Elder once said, all traces of demons will shine brightly on the human star map, drawing all of Aryan’s armies towards them. "Where demons linger, there is the breath of the abyss, even the suppressed ones," he explained, "unless it has perished or been banished by the abyss."
However, Victor, the remnant of a great demon, did not carry the essence of the abyss, which is why Tasha, who made a pact with him, did not possess any trace of the abyss. Souls can be divided, but their essence and the contracts placed upon them will not exist separately. All fragments of Victor’s soul, just like him, have inexplicably lost connection with the abyss.
Whether it was the various races who eradicated demons in the Battle of the Heaven and Earth or the humans who invented various testing devices during their peak period, none could track down Victor’s whereabouts.
"How long until the portal opens?" Tasha asked, "Where will it open? Is there a way to close it now?"
"It will be in the northwest of the Empire, at least one or two years from now," Victor replied, "but the issue is more severe than that. A single sacrifice is not enough to immediately shake the ‘gate.’ The rapid reaction of the dimensional plane indicates a powerful force on the other side pushing the ‘gate.’ In a few more minutes, vibrations will create the first gap, enough for an individual of less than legendary strength to pass through."
"Could that be you?" Tasha asked. "Is it possible that you have a doppelganger on the other side of the abyss?"
"If a part of me is still living in the abyss, I would definitely have the aura of the abyss," Victor decisively rejected. "Apart from me, there are many great demons in the abyss, some of whom I found challenging even at my peak. With hundreds of years of hiatus, it’s enough for them to unearth the key I left in the abyss. Whether the key is kept individually or shared among the demons, when the dimensional vibration starts, all the higher beings in the abyss will sense it. Before they figure out how much benefit they can gain, they won’t fight among themselves but cooperate. The weakest one among them will be the scout – even the weakest one must have the strength of a great demon, or they wouldn’t be qualified to stand at the table. It will hold my key and send a doppelganger with about fifty percent of my power to scout ahead. We better prepare immediately, as it will appear here directly."
Victor appeared very calm.
He seemed very composed, analyzing quickly and thoroughly. Rarely, he started to enter a reliable mode, just a bit nervous. Tasha could sense a hint of forcibly suppressed fear through their connection, and when she locked eyes with Victor, she suddenly understood.
Victor was nervous about the impending abyssal visitors, but his object of fear was the Tasha right in front of him.
His backup was in the northwest of the empire, but the vanguard of the abyss would "appear here directly." Why? Because it held Victor’s key and could easily find him. Perhaps when Victor left himself a way out, he set it up on his lingering soul in the mortal world.
If Victor is thrown far away now, at least the abyssal visitors won’t find the dungeon. Destroying the Book of Dungeons would be a better choice to prevent any unexpected occurrences.
According to their contract, Tasha couldn’t destroy Victor, but she didn’t have to do it herself. Although the relationship between the empire and the dungeon had improved somewhat, it hadn’t reached the point where they would turn a blind eye to any misbehavior. If Victor were conspicuously dropped near the new Magic Core, the empire would certainly take action. With the current power of the Book of Dungeons, one shot from the Magic Cannon would be enough to completely destroy him. The enemy’s action wouldn’t break the contract, just an unfortunate accident – that’s how demonic pacts worked.
Just push the blame on the abyss afterwards. If the Abyss Passage is opened, the dungeon and humans will surely need to cooperate.
So Victor’s detailed explanation actually meant "I am useful, please don’t kill me".
Feeling sorry for herself, Tasha was impressed that she could think about such trivial matters in such a crucial moment.
"I won’t abandon you," Tasha said, "The door is already open, destroying you is useless, at most it’s just a detour for the other side. Your value to me is much greater than that."
"What…" Victor said, seeming to want to argue, but they both clearly felt him relax, so hiding became meaningless. He muttered, "You’re lying, you just want to use me as bait."
"That’s right," Tasha bluntly admitted, "You should have known what kind of person I am. If I was the type easily controlled by emotions, not weighing the pros and cons, just following my heart, would you still like me?"
"True," Victor fell silent for a moment, then smiled, "It’s because of your intelligence and coldness that I can’t help but fall for you."
Truly rare honesty, it was hard to tell if she felt a bit dangerous this time, or if she was trying to curry favor in a different way. But the timing wasn’t great – confessing before a battle was like setting an unreachable goal, and Tasha had no intention of responding.
Although using Victor as bait was true, not wanting to part with him was not a lie.
"No more talking," Tasha said, "Get ready quickly."
The first opening of the abyss crack is just a few minutes away.
——————————
The space is shaking.
In the northwest of the empire, half an hour ago, the clear sky filled with dark clouds, and a sudden rain showered down, hitting the ground as if the sky had a hole in it. The strong wind swept the rain curtains up, waking up people in the old house, rubbing their sleepy eyes to shut the windows. The air outside made them feel a strange chill. Birds crouched in their nests shivering, and the rushing water poured into abandoned underground caves, flowing over dried-up marks.
The runes that were recently filled with blood have dried up again. Every drop of blood has disappeared, and only the broken mirror surface still glows with a strange red light, as if it was crafted by a skilled artisan. The slight earthquake was concealed by the heavy rain, and when a corner of the tunnel twisted, no one was alarmed.
The ground did not twist, the walls did not twist, it was the air that twisted. Just like the ground heated up in the middle of summer, the scenery in a certain space became unstable, with ripples spreading in an empty area.
A sharp spike emerged in midair.
It didn’t appear out of nowhere, but seemed like something slowly piercing through from the other side. The space was like a taut film being pushed open by this reddish-brown spike, continuously rising until it couldn’t hold anymore, and then…! The whole spike broke through the barrier. A spike as thick as an adult’s arm hung in midair, slowly expanding.
The space is giving birth.
The new baby was not calm at all. It was struggling and twisting wildly, trying to tear down the barriers trapping it. The abandoned tunnel kept shaking, dust falling from the ceiling. Strange lights appeared, as if something was tearing apart the storm clouds, lightning flashing in the dark sky. A sinister red light shone from one side, and the next moment, a large head broke through the barrier and appeared in the Primary Material Plane.
It was a fierce monster.
Its nose was flat, with two completely black eyes far apart. Its face resembled more of a wild beast than a human. Its skin was reddish, with horns on its forehead. In features, it bore an unexpected resemblance to Shirel, but Shirel could be counted as a strange-looking person, whereas this one was more of a humanoid monster. It had a long horn on the left side of its forehead, while the right side was empty, with only a circular cut, suggesting that a horn had once grown there too.
A claw emerged, tearing and climbing outward, until the whole body of the Angry Demon came out. It had a humanoid torso, muscular and bulging, as if the muscles were about to burst the red skin. Its arms with sharp claws were strong, the upper body resembled an orangutan or an Iron Golem, with knees twisted backward, perfect for jumping. As soon as the monster appeared, it occupied the cramped corridor, letting out a low growl, its claws gripping something.
The Angry Demon vanished in the next second.
Half an Aryan away from the old mansion, an unexpected guest suddenly appeared in the underground space.
The Angry Demon holding the "key" appeared in the dungeon.
The Angry Demon growled displeased again due to the environment. The space here was wide enough, so there was no need to worry about bumping into anything, but the environment was still quite bad. The concentration of magic was much higher than the previous place, very pure without any hint of the abyss. The Angry Demon’s arrival here was like a fish out of water.
Although it could survive, it definitely didn’t feel good.
Confused, the creature looked around. It seemed to be in a dungeon, but why didn’t it feel the abyss? A dungeon should be the best conductor of the abyss, but the Angry Demon didn’t feel at home. Was it because changes had occurred over the hundreds of years the passage had been broken, or was it because of the key itself? It opened its sharp claws, holding a pitch-black scale in its hand. It reluctantly held the eerie object, but the thought that its owner had long been dead made it feel somewhat cheerful to have this relic.
"It’s you."
The Angry Demon suddenly lifted its head.
That darn voice, unforgettable even after centuries. It suddenly raised its body, expanding its senses to the fullest. The surroundings were empty, with no trace of other demons. He’s still alive? Where is he? The scale in its claws began to heat up, indicating that the scale’s owner was nearby, but why couldn’t it feel him?
"Come out!" the Angry Demon roared.
Lights flashed on, runes on the ceiling lighting up one by one. Above the head of the Angry Demon, a halo appeared mockingly. The pitch-black underground space instantly turned into a dazzling underground ballroom, exuding a nervously cheerful atmosphere. The scale heated up even more, yet there was nothing to be found. Where was it hidden? How could he come so close without leaving a trace? The Angry Demon quickly became agitated, just as it was about to take action, a book floated off the shelf and opened in front of it with a rustling sound.
"Looks like you’re the unlucky one this time," the book with yellow eyes chirped cheerfully. "Long time no see, Ragehorn Simon."
Ragehorn Simon let out a roar, the horn that had been broken by the other party thousands of years ago began to ache faintly.