Walking through a vast red and black field, reading a piece of parchment Elma made for him, the ingredients for the Elixir of Gluttony.
'Hmm. Let's see.'
Melodic Crystal: Embodies the muted screams and unheard cries of intruders, granting the consumer an aura of terror that cripples foes with despair.
Shadowflame Essence: A flame extinguished, yet still burning in absence, it allows the drinker to quench the light of truth, shrouding actions in secrecy.
Heartfruit Extract: With each pulse of this potent nectar, the imbiber consumes not just life but the very essence of desire, gaining strength from their victim's unfulfilled yearnings.
'Aw. She even added little explanations at the end. I like her already. For a human witch, why is she so pure acting? Though it makes my stomach turn, another side of me actually likes it. AM I GOING SOFT?! NO! I'm the former demon king Gunjo! I was never soft! Fuck!'
The trio—Gunjo, Yaien, and the newly joined warrior, Yamato—set out from Elma's haven, leaving the comfort of the illuminated grotto behind. The sky above was an unrelenting canvas of obsidian, streaked with veins of crimson and indigo, hinting at the chaotic magics that perpetuated the inferno realm. With the hideout fading into the distance, they began their trek through the mesmeric landscapes of hell, yet alive with its own dark wonders.
Their first landmark was the Colossal Spires of Skartheim, towering rock formations that clawed at the heavens like the petrified remains of ancient monsters. These pillars were a natural fortress, shielding from view the Veil of Fyrdraca—a cascade of fire that fell endlessly into a cavernous pit, mesmerizing in its destructive beauty. Gunjo noted the almost hypnotic effect the flowing flames had on his two companions, who beheld the spectacle with a reverent silence.
'The last time I was here, I hunted down a group of rebel demons wanting to take my throne. Good times.'
System Notification: [Scanned: Veil of Fyrdraca. Mythic Landmark. Proceed with caution.]
'The stalker window…informing me on things. It's neat. Keep doing it.'
As they ventured on, the ground beneath their feet became a tapestry of cracked earth and seething geothermal vents. From these fissures bellowed plumes of scalding steam, carrying with them the scent of sulfurous spices that seemed to energize rather than repulse.
Gunjo bade the group pause when they came upon the Barrens of Jötunbrand, a desolate vista where the scarce volcanic soil supported only the hardiest of life forms. Here, massive bones lay half-buried, remnants of titanic beasts that once roamed this fierce land. Vegetation was scarce, with only the Ashen Thistle managing to eke out a living, its metallic foliage glinting under the hellsky.
'I hate this place. Heard tales that demon kings used to mate here—.'
System Notification: [Scanned: Ashen Thistle. Rare flora. Alchemical properties unknown. Extreme resilience.]
In a clearing among the bones, Yamato demonstrated his tracking expertise by drawing their attention to the grooved earth—the hunting path of the Hraesvelgr Wyrm, a serpent vast enough to swallow a man whole. Watching from a safe distance, they observed as the soil shifted and the serpentine shadow passed beneath, a silent predator in its subterranean realm.
System Notification: [Tracked: Hraesvelgr Wyrm. Apex Predator. Non-hostile unless provoked.]
As they walked, Yaien looked up at Gunjo, whispering, "He's not talking."
"Who? This guy?"
"Mhm. He's not really like what you saw back there."
"I noticed. And you're a demonic beast, so you could sense it too."
"I always noticed, ever since he came here after the earth invasion. He's awkward, but he's strong. And when he's angry, it's super edgy. I always keep my distance. He talks to that katana of his, and says his son's soul is within it."
"Oh yeah? The Awakened humans have powers that even resonate with souls? Sweet."
"N-No! Why are you praising them?"
"Shut up! Because I want to! Anyway, does he only act like that when around Elma?"
"Yes. Because no one wants to see Elma cry or be sad."
"Tragic coming from a demon bunny. You got her doing something for you too?"
"Mhm. I really really..want to see what living in the human world is like, I guess? In a way?"
"Oh????"
"Elma told me a lot about the realm of earth, and how there's creatures like me but less scary. I have millions of family members, Elma promised when she goes back, she'll turn all of me and my family normal, and we'll live amongst them."
"Why? You're from hell. Born in hell."
"Face it, kid. Just a bunch of killing, brutality, rebellion. You don't get used to it. Even when you just want to keep you and your kind safe. Things got worse when the Demonic Order started running around."
"…I don't even know how that feels.I lusted after battle, killing. I listed after showing off and putting down the ones weaker than me."
"Glad you noticed. I don't even know why I told you all of my super secret business, but if you tell ANYONE—."
"Get your nasty little ears out of a knot, I don't tell people's secrets."
"Good. Or I'll clobber you in round two."
"Oh please I was about to win!"
"Huh?! No you weren't! I barely was even trying!"
"Yeah?! W-Well me neither!"
"Lies!"
Yamato just walked ahead of them, not saying a word.
Beyond the hunting ground, the terrain shifted once more, unveiling the Skaldic Plains, vast swaths of land where the hardy Volkur horses galloped with hooves of molten brass, their manes a blinding flare. The herd's thunderous stampede was a testament to the raw power that dwelt within these wild creatures, a power revered by even the mightiest demon clans.
System Notification: [Scanned: Volkur Horse. Mythic Fauna. Domestication level: Challenging.]
As dusk fell—or what passed for it in this eternal twilight—Gunjo, Yaien, and Yamato reached the Runestone Range. They maneuvered carefully through the labyrinth of standing stones, each etched with runes of a bygone era, still pulsing with an enchantment that could ensnare the unwary. The runes spoke of ancient bargains and spells of control, keys to long-forgotten powers.
System Notification: [Deciphered: Runestone Engravings. Ancient Language. Potential seals of binding.]
Next, the trio stumbled upon a peculiar sight—the Mimir's Wells. These steaming pools dotted the landscape, each a different hue and each believed to grant visions to those brave enough to gaze into their fathomless depths. Whispers of the future, as well as echoes of the past, were said to be bestowed upon the seeker, a resource even the most stoic of demons found difficult to resist.
System Notification: [Scanned: Mimir's Wells. Arcane Phenomenon. Vision-inducing properties confirmed.]
Continuing their journey, they crossed the Surt's Causeway, a bridge woven from the hardened magma of infernal forges. It spanned the crimson river of Hvergelmir, whose ferocious current was unmatched in all the hellish domain. Here, the water was not water, but liquid fire, fueling the underworld's relentless engine.
System Notification: [Scanned: Hvergelmir River. Lava Flow. Navigable via Surt's Causeway only.]
Beyond the causeway, they came upon the Draugar Fields, where ghostly figures toiled, harvesting the Malefic Crops that grew here. These were plants not of nourishment, but of poison and potion, their harvesters apparitions bound by some ancient curse or perhaps remnants of hell's own creation—ethereal farmers tending to their lethal garden.
[System Notification: [Scanned: Wyrdwillow Trees. Intelligent Flora. Capable of communication through old magic.]
Yamato, ever vigilant, caught sight of a Fryst Drake taking wing amidst the crystal-laden cliffs of Frostfire Crag. A creature of paradox, its icy breath fought against the surrounding heat. Its scales shimmered with a coat of frost even as its belly encapsulated an inferno. The drake was a rarity in these lands, a being whose very existence defied the common order of hell's domain.
[System Notification: [Logged: Fryst Drake. Mythic Fauna. Elemental anomaly. Study recommended.]
As the dusk began to blend seamlessly into the night—if such terms held any meaning in a land that knew no sun—the trio reached the mysterious Leviathan Bones, a structure so enormous that it cradled a small infernal ecosystem within its ribcage. Bioluminescent fungi clung to the remains, casting an ethereal glow over the motley array of denizens that made their homes in the bowels of this leviathan graveyard.
[System Notification: [Scanned: Leviathan Bones. Mythic Landmark. Ecosystem host. Suggests previous aquatic mega-fauna presence.]
Their exploration continued to unfold wonders and horrors alike, as they wound their way through the spiraling rocks of Valkyr's Pass, each stone seemingly placed by a titanic hand. Enormous chains, remnants of an unfathomable binding, dangled from the edges, their ends disappearing into the abyss below.
[System Notification: [Scanned: Valkyr's Pass. Age-old path. Chains of unknown origin and purpose. Caution advised.]
Finally, as they continued, they encountered the Ebony Glade, a clearing where the scarce Skógarýmir fauna grazed. These hulking, shadowy herbivores moved with a grace that belied their size, their leathery skin as black as the abyss itself. Their peaceful nature was a stark contrast to the volatile realm they called home.
[System Notification: [Logged: Skógarýmir. Herbivorous Giants. Mild temperament. Adapted to Ebony Glade flora.]
As they traipsed further into the foreboding landscape, an acrid scent filled the air—a pungent reminder of iron and death. The terrain grew soft underfoot, a spongy earth soaked with an ancient crimson. The horizon ahead was dominated by an expansive expanse: an ocean, vast and seemingly unending, but not of water. Blood. A vast, thick, sanguine sea stretched before them, its muted waves sluggishly lapping against the shore with a sound like a slow, persistent heartbeat.
Gunjo, Yaien, and Yamato paused, a collective unease anchoring their feet at the sight of the Blood Ocean. It was as if all the violence of this domain had been liquefied, pooled into an indescribable body of liquid horror that stretched as far as the eye could see. The air hung heavy with the stench of rust and decay, a musty blanket upon their senses as they stared out over the grotesque panorama.
System Notification: [Scanned: Blood Ocean. Enormous biohazard. Approach with extreme caution.]
A chill wind whispered across the surface of the ocean, carrying with it an ominous presence. The water itself appeared restless, disturbed by more than just the wind. Yamato's hand instinctively rested upon the hilt of his blade as he peered into the distance, his gaze sharp as flint. There was movement in the waters, a shadow beneath the surface that grew larger with every passing moment.
Yamato said, "it's close."
Gunjo thought, 'This feeling…I've never felt this before..! So dark..like the aura is overpowering me itself..!'
Yaien backed away, saying, "What the—."
"Don't talk. Not a sound." Yamato stated.
Gunjo thought, 'Don't talk?! Something knows we're here! Even In this invisible elixir we're wearing. What could it be? I've never been down here before..'
Silence stretched between them, pregnant with premonition. Gunjo's hands clenched unconsciously, the phantom memory of battles past crawling beneath his skin. Yaien, beside him, shifted his weight from foot to foot, unease playing out through his quiet fidgeting. Both warriors, though seasoned in the art of war, were not immune to the sinister theatrics of this hellish realm.
System Notification: [Alert: Large entity detected. Assessing threat level...]
The blood-tide swelled, and from its depths, a colossus emerged. Towering at 90 feet halfway out of the blood-sea, an Umibozu revealed itself, casting a monolithic shadow across the trio. Its skin was the black of the abyss, glistening wetly in the faint light; eyes, large and unfathomable, gleamed with a preternatural hunger. In the silence that had fallen, the sound of its breath was the only thing that filled the air—a grotesque exhalation, like the escaping sigh of a drowned corpse.
Gunjo felt a primal fear clutch at his bones, an instinctual terror that whispered old tales of sea monsters and the fates of seafarers foolhardy enough to challenge them. Yaien, equally affected by the sight, tensed, his eyes darting around, searching for some advantage, some escape, should the creature descend upon them.
Gunjo thought, 'My legs..they won't move..they won't fucking move!'
System Notification: [Threat Level: Severe. Engage with maximum caution.]
Yamato, however, stood still—a statuesque figure against the tides of fear rolling off his compatriots. His eyes never left those of the leviathan from the deep, a quiet defiance etched into the lines of his face. The whisper of his voice carrying a weight that anchored him firmly to the crimson-soaked earth.
Yamato thought, 'It already sees us. I must do it.'
"Give me strength, son. I know you see me," murmured Yamato, his voice an eerie undertone to the monstrous tableau before him. The words were intimate, invoking an unseen presence, a conduit of resolve from beyond the veil of life and death.
. Yamato's fingers curled around the hilt of his weapon—an extension of his will, about to be unsheathed.
System Notification: [Analyzing: Emotional Component Detected. Potential supernatural influence.]
In one fluid movement, as graceful and precise as the fall of an executioner's blade, Yamato drew his silver katana. The metal gleamed like a sliver of moonlight, its edge an arc of lethality against the backdrop of the blood ocean. The sound of steel sliding against the scabbard seemed to slice through the tension, a clarion call that resonated with finality.
The Umibozu's gaze intensified, its own abyssal eyes reflecting the deadly promise of the sword. An imperceptible standoff ensued, a battle of wills where the first to blink would concede defeat. The blood beneath the creature began to roil, agitated by the impending confrontation.
Gunjo and Yaien watched, an amalgam of awe and horror threading their expressions, as Yamato took a deliberate step forward. The air around them thrummed with potential energy, the kind that precedes lightning—the brief, electric calm before the tempest's unleash.
System Notification: [Alert: Engaging Umibozu. Battle imminent.]
Yamato stood resolute, his blade poised as if he alone bore the weight of their destiny. His breath was measured, lungs drawing in the frigid, metallic air as he centered himself. There was no tremor in his grip, no faltering in his stance; he was the eye of the storm, calm in the face of chaos.
The Umibozu's massive form seemed to not love, its intentions cryptic, an ancient intelligence beholding the human before it. Yamato's determination was palpable, a force unto itself, and for a moment, the creature seemed hesitant, analyzing this enigma of a man.
System Notification: [Recording data... Potential parahuman resilience identified.]
Around them, the landscape seemed to pause, as if nature itself held its breath, understanding that the events about to unfold would carve their etchings into the annals of time. Gunjo and Yaien, though still gripped by their own trepidation, couldn't help but feel a stirring of inspiration emanating from Yamato.
The standstill was ephemeral; with a sudden, booming crash, the Umibozu moved. Its vast limb, reminiscent of a colossal tidal wave, rose into the air, poised to crush the defiance out of the solitary figure before it. The impact would be devastating, a show of power designed to extinguish any semblance of resistance.
System Notification: [Warning: Defensive actions required. Immediate evasive maneuver recommended.]
Yet Yamato did not waiver, his voice rising in a whisper that carried an otherworldly timbre, "I stand not alone, beast of the abyss." And with those words, the air around him shimmered briefly, an echo of spiritual reinforcement fleeting across his form.
The silver katana seemed to sing, vibrating with an ethereal edge as if responding to Yamato's invocation. Yamato's movements synchronized with the pulsations of the blade, readying himself for a confrontation that felt far older than any of them—an ancient dance of death between human and myth.
System Notification: [Observation: Parahuman abilities detected. Adjust strategies accordingly.]
As the Umibozu's limb descended with crushing inevitability, Yamato's arm swung upwards in an arc of defiance. There was a sound—a keening wail of energy meeting resistance, tangible force clashing against ethereal will—slicing through the air.
The scene became a tableau of surreal contrasts: the silver flash of Yamato's blade, the stygian black of the Umibozu's flesh, and the blood-red sea that seemed to hunger for the outcome of this conflict. A single strike held the potential to sway the balance, to determine who would emerge sovereign over this cursed domain.
System Notification: [Analyzing combat... Recording parahuman combat techniques...]
In the wake of the tension, an uneasy quietude befell the scene once again, the aftermath of action hanging like a specter over the battlefield. Gunjo and Yaien exchanged glances, each knowing that regardless of the outcome, their journey had irrevocably changed under the scrutiny of the Blood Ocean.
And as the scene froze in that eerie, suspenseful moment, with Yamato standing undeterred, the very air itself seemed to thrum with the whisper of legacies and the silent prayers of the defiant.
System Notification: [Alert: Encounter unresolved. Monitoring for developments…]
The Umibozu, unfazed, his arm grew back, and he just stayed where it was, breathing heavily, its breaths moving the waves around them.
Gunjo said, "This thing…it's unreal…!"
[New Quest found]
[Kill The Umibozu]
[Reward : 80 XP. 50 skill points]