The Aftermath of Battle
Ronan's body burned.
Every muscle screamed, his veins pulsed with unfathomable energy, and his mind was barely holding together under the weight of what he had just done.
He had killed the Abyssal Warden.
No, more than that.
He had devoured it.
The remnants of its existence still simmered inside him—its power coiling through his body like a venomous serpent, reshaping him from the inside out.
A System Notification flickered in his vision.
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🔹 You have defeated an Abyssal High Guardian (??? Tier).
🔹 You have consumed a fragment of an Abyssal Core.
New Abilities Acquired:
✅ Abyssal Authority (Lesser) – You can now exert your will over lesser abyssal entities. Those of weaker essence will be forced to acknowledge your presence.
✅ Abyssal Endurance – Damage received from abyssal creatures reduced by 30%.
✅ Void-Touched Physique – Your body has begun evolving to match abyssal beings. Your physical limits are no longer bound by human constraints.
🔹 The Forgotten Throne has acknowledged your presence. The next trial begins.
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Ronan's breath was unsteady. His skin tingled, as though something was trying to seep into his bones and claim him.
But he wasn't afraid.
Instead, a slow smile formed on his lips.
For the first time in his life, he wasn't powerless.
No longer bound by the System's hierarchy, no longer trapped in the shadows of those who had been gifted power at birth.
He was outside their rules now.
And that made him dangerous.
The Throne Calls
The massive doors at the far end of the cathedral groaned, their ancient mechanisms unlocking for the first time in eons.
A deep howling wind escaped from the darkness beyond, carrying whispers of forgotten kings and gods long buried.
The air was thick with power—not like the Hunters' energy, which was clean and structured, bound by the System.
This was something older. Something primal.
"Come forth, Bearer of the Mark."
The voice didn't belong to any single being.
It was legions speaking as one—a chorus of those who had once ruled and fallen, their echoes bound to this place.
Ronan took a step forward.
The floor beneath his feet changed. Gone were the cracked stones of the ruined cathedral—now he stood on a bridge of endless void, suspended in nothingness.
Below, the abyss churned like a living thing.
And ahead of him—
A throne of obsidian and bone, wreathed in shifting violet flames, sat atop an altar floating in the void.
It was massive—easily towering over any human structure Ronan had ever seen. Ancient runes etched themselves into its surface, shifting like living ink.
But most importantly…
Someone was sitting on it.
The First King of the Abyss
The figure on the throne was not human.
It was tall, its body wrapped in tattered royal robes, woven from shadows and abyssal silk. A jagged crown of bone rested on its head, cracked and half-shattered.
Where its face should have been, there was only darkness—a void of shifting eyes, watching Ronan with something that was neither malice nor kindness.
"You have come far."
The voice did not echo. It was simply everywhere, sinking into Ronan's very soul.
"Few mortals have ever entered this place. Fewer still have survived."
Ronan narrowed his eyes. His instincts screamed that this was no ordinary entity.
Even the Abyssal Warden, a being far beyond anything he had ever fought before, felt small compared to the presence before him.
This was not some mere guardian.
This was a king.
"What are you?" Ronan asked, his voice steady.
The figure tilted its head slightly, as if amused.
"I am the one who ruled before the System. Before the Hunters. Before the world was bound by laws."
The flames around the throne flared.
"I am the First Devourer. The Forgotten Sovereign of the Abyss."
Ronan felt something shift inside him.
The Mark of the Devourer on his body reacted violently, pulsing as though responding to an unspoken command.
The being on the throne watched him closely.
"You wear my mark, mortal. You walk my path. But you do not yet understand what you are becoming."
Ronan's jaw tightened.
"Then tell me."
For a long moment, silence filled the void.
Then—
The Throne shook.
"Sit."
The command was absolute.
Ronan's muscles tensed. His instincts screamed at him to deny it, to resist.
But something deep inside him whispered back.
"This is what you have been waiting for."
His entire life, he had been chained—by the System, by fate, by forces beyond his control.
He had fought to survive.
He had fought to take back what was his.
And now…
He had a choice.
Ronan exhaled slowly.
Then, with steady steps, he ascended the altar.
The moment he touched the throne, everything changed.
The Devourer's Awakening
Ronan's vision split apart.
The world collapsed, reality shattering into endless fragments of time and echoes of the past.
He saw wars fought in the void, gods slain by forgotten beings, entire civilizations wiped from existence—all devoured by the abyss.
And at the heart of it all—
The First Devourer, sitting upon this very throne, watching as the world burned before him.
The echoes whispered to Ronan.
"The Devourer does not follow the System. The Devourer is beyond the System."
"The Devourer does not grow stronger by experience. The Devourer grows stronger by consuming."
"The Devourer does not die. He simply takes the bodies of those who fall before him."
Ronan felt his soul crack, breaking apart, being rebuilt into something else.
His System Interface shattered completely, replaced by something new, something dark and twisting with endless hunger.
A new notification flickered before him.
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🔹 You have ascended the Forgotten Throne.
🔹 Your Class has been redefined.
✅ New Class Obtained: Sovereign of the Devouring Abyss
✅ All previous limitations have been removed.
✅ You now hold the Right of Devouring. All things shall be consumed in your wake.
—----------------------------------------
The vision snapped away, and Ronan found himself back on the throne, his hands gripping its armrests.
The First Devourer was gone.
The throne was now his.
And as the cathedral shook, the abyss itself bowed before its new ruler.
Ronan smiled.
"Now… the real game begins."