And there I was, Evangeline, a mere 12-year-old girl, on the brink of delving into the abyss. I had never imagined that reaching the abyss would be so simple; all I needed was a sufficient amount of magic. Beneath the castle, in the heart of the dark dungeon, rose some unsettling ruins. The atmosphere was saturated with an odor that assaulted my nostrils mercilessly. It was the smell of iron, not just blood, but other odors I prefer not to mention... The dungeon was genuinely repugnant, and my young 12-year-old body couldn't bear it any longer.
— Bluaaaaaa.
My breakfast ended up spilled on the floor in a lamentable spectacle. However, none of the soldiers present seemed to pay it special attention, as many of them were struggling to contain their own nausea. Their faces reflected the general discomfort as we advanced through this gloomy place.
A warrior, whose imposing appearance was hard to ignore, addressed me.
— The coliseum is a place where one gets used to seeing, smelling, and feeling blood. It's a natural part of the fights. But this, girl, is worse for several of the most experienced warriors... You have an unusual stroke of bad luck, don't you?
—...
His words hung in the air as I gazed at this burly warrior with black hair, tall and muscular, carrying a giant broadsword. The blade of the broadsword measured almost 1.4 meters and was adorned with engravings; it seemed incredibly heavy and laden with history.
The warrior fell silent, apparently not expecting a response from me. However, I doubted I could muster the necessary courage to speak in a situation like this. Merely opening my mouth seemed enough for the suffocating and nauseating smell of the place to invade me, something I had experienced before. After a brief moment, and noticing that the rest of the group had seemingly adapted to the environment, the warrior continued to advance with determination toward the ruins.
The ruins stood majestically, nearly 4 meters in height, a feature that remained constant throughout the floor. This was the deepest corner of the dungeon. The ruins had a gloomy appearance, with a large circle inscribed at the bottom and several monoliths scattered around it. Each of these monoliths was topped with a unique-colored gem, creating a rainbow-like color palette. The first gem was large and red, located on the edge of the circle, followed by a slightly deeper orange gem, and so on. The sequence culminated in the last gem, a small violet gem lying right in the center of the circle.
Before the warrior took another step beyond the circle, a cold and firm voice interrupted his advance: "One more step, and your life will be extinguished."
The author of this threat turned out to be a magician in the service of the pig king.
"These ruins are the portal to the abyss, but before crossing it, an offering and an act of magic are required," he explained with an undisturbed tone.
The magician's words resonated ominously, sending shivers down the spines of all those present. As he mentioned the "offering," his voice took on a twisted undertone, and his face transformed into an unsettling smile that stretched in a very eerie manner, distorting his face. Meanwhile, the pig king observed from behind in silence, making a hand gesture to his subordinates to bring forth a group of slaves. The diverse selection included the elderly, young, and women, all with joyful expressions and healthy bodies. There were a total of seven slaves, who positioned themselves at the edge of the circle, equidistant from each other, encircling it entirely. Each of them had a knight in the service of the pig king by their side. The magician began reciting words in an unknown language to me, while the energy—presumably magic—concentrated in his staff. The energy flowed from his staff to the seven individuals, creating a chain among them. In an instant, the knights executed a swift and precise movement, cutting the seven slaves with a sudden stroke. The circle was imbued with a somber symbolism, as the blood of the sacrificed brutally extinguished. Although the blow wasn't deep, a decent amount of blood started to flow, and soon, the blood from these individuals came together in the circle. This was done through that chain, which coiled upon itself, forming a strange blood bubble, and the chain, now a bubble, floated up above the circle and then exploded. The circle on the ground turned into a purple vortex.
The purple vortex on the ground manifested as a mysterious portal, a gateway to the unknown. The atmosphere was filled with tension and bewilderment. The soldiers, who were previously willing to advance courageously, now seemed hesitant to cross this threshold. Even the soldier who had spoken to me moments earlier was paralyzed, looking in awe and fear at the vortex.
The pig king, on his throne, observed with a furrowed brow and some irritation, awaiting action that wasn't forthcoming, until the transformation of the circle into that purple portal happened, taking everyone by surprise, except for the pig king and his entourage.
The vortex emitted a gentle glow and an incomprehensible whisper that blended with the restless murmur of the soldiers. The destination was uncertain, and the decision to cross or not was in the hands of each individual. Tension mounted as everyone wondered what would happen next.
The pig king, not waiting any longer, snapped his fingers, and immediately the knights who had been with the slaves approached us. I watched as they threw them one by one into the portal. Despite the valiant efforts of the soldiers to defend themselves, their endeavors proved futile as they were ruthlessly thrown into the vortex. Before anyone else could throw me, I decided to take the leap of my own accord.
As I fell through the vortex, I saw a purple mist swirling around me. It was an unsettling situation, and the mist displayed various figures. Were they... butterflies? Why would mist display butterflies?
[The conditions have been met]
— Conditions?
I heard only my voice echoing in this dense mist; there was nothing but mist as far as I could see. But then, a voice was heard.
— Is someone there?
I asked just in case. Had I come across a soldier? That would be the best-case scenario; the worst would be encountering a voice-mimicking flying beast. God, just thinking about it sends chills down my spine.
[The conditions have been met]
— That voice! Who are you, where are you?
Now I'm sure there's a voice out there, but it doesn't sound human. It doesn't sound like a monster or demon either. We've always been told that demons have a voice you'd instantly recognize, a sinister voice. This voice sounds a bit peculiar, but I wouldn't know how to describe it.
[The Photographer class evolves into Abyssal Photographer]
Abyssal Photographer? I've never heard of it.
[Abyssal Photographer - Attention, adventurers of all kinds! Welcome to the special class "Abyssal Photographer," where we will dive into the darkest depths to... take photos! Yes, you heard that right. Now you can face the terrifying creatures of the abyss armed with a camera.
Tired of swords and spells? Want to try something "different" in the world of fantasy? Well, here you go. As an Abyssal Photographer, you'll carry
your magical camera to places where even the bravest fear to tread.
Instead of battling dragons and monsters with flaming swords, you'll face the harsh critique of art, and your ability to capture perfect lighting amidst the darkness will be your most potent weapon.
Equipment is essential: your camera should be waterproof, fireproof, and tentacle-resistant, as mysterious tentacles lurk in the depths. Don't forget your magical lenses, which will allow you to see in the gloom as if you were a cat.
You won't be the hunter anymore but the hunter of epic moments in the shadows. You'll have the opportunity to see beyond the darkness and unveil the darkest secrets, with a smile and an artistic pose on your face.
So get ready for a photographic journey into the unknown! Who needs a golden treasure when you can have a portfolio full of epic shots from the abyss? Go for it, Abyssal Photographer, your flash will illuminate the path to eternity (or at least, to a grand exhibition of magical art)!]
— What on earth...?
There was no way to describe the overwhelming flood of information pouring from the voice. I found myself in a state of total immobility, unable to react. But, an "Abyssal Photographer" class? Was it really a thing? I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope inside me. However, life had taught me that dreaming often only served for a harsh landing in the harsh reality.
[Young adventurer, are you ready to face your destiny?]
The voice changed, becoming somewhat more feminine. But what should I do? The "Photographer" class sounded useful in everyday life, but would it really be of any use in confronting this abyss? "Abyssal" sounded threatening, powerful. Nevertheless, I decided I had nothing to lose by trying it, right?
— Yes, I'm ready.
Holding onto the faint hope that remained in this abyss, I decided to give it a chance.
[Young adventurer, are you ready to face your destiny?]
The voice left me perplexed. What exactly should I do? But before I could ask another question, I was given my first mission: "Capture 5 inhabitants of the abyss."
- What?
Capture 5 abyssal monsters? Was that even possible? I felt overwhelmed by the idea.
— Excuse me, I think there has been a mistake.
A deathly silence hung in the air, as if the voices had never been there. As I pondered what had happened, the environment beneath me began to change. The thick fog covering the skies and the earth dissipated, and the land gradually became visible in the distance. Wait, was I falling?
— Am I falling?!