The sky hung heavy over the horizon as Ellie stood at the edge of the Academy’s gates, her eyes tracing the jagged peaks that loomed far in the distance. Beyond them, shrouded in ancient mist, lay the Devil’s Abyss—the place where the ancient devil king had been sealed centuries ago, where now the seals were weakening, unraveling under the influence of Achron’s dark magic.

She hadn’t slept. The weight of the relic in her pocket, its soft pulse constant against her side, kept her mind restless. Every step forward felt like stepping into a trap she couldn’t see, a dark fate she couldn’t escape.

Around her, the mages and adventurers were preparing for the journey, their faces grim but determined. They spoke in low voices, sharpening blades, checking spellbooks, their confidence only deepening the pit in Ellie’s stomach.

She didn’t belong here, surrounded by these warriors and scholars, these people who were trained for this—who knew how to face what lay ahead. She had been swept into their world by accident, and now she was expected to lead them to the heart of the abyss, to confront a creature of unimaginable power. A devil king, whose name had been lost to time but whose shadow still loomed over the kingdom.

Master Kolvin approached, his staff gleaming faintly in the morning light. He nodded at her, his face calm but lined with concern. "The Guild has sent their best fighters," he said, his voice low but steady. "The adventurers will ensure our path is clear, and the mages from the Academy are ready to support you, Lady Ellie."

Ellie swallowed hard, her throat dry. "I... I understand." The words came out too quickly, too stiff, and she could tell Kolvin noticed. His sharp eyes lingered on her for a moment, but he said nothing more, only nodding again before turning to address the others.

"Remember," Kolvin called out, his voice rising over the low murmur of the gathered group. "Our goal is the Abyss. The seals are weakening by the hour—if we cannot reinforce them, or if we cannot destroy the ritual Achron has started, the devil king will rise, and none of us will live to see the dawn of the next day. Stay vigilant. Trust in your comrades. And remember that we fight for the survival of the kingdom itself."

The crowd murmured their agreement, their hands tightening on weapons and staves. Ellie looked away, the weight of their expectations pressing down on her. They were ready to face the danger head-on, but she... she was not.

Kolvin turned back to her, his eyes softening. "You have the relic. Its power may be the only thing that can stop the awakening. We believe in you, Ellie. We know you’ll lead us to victory."

Ellie felt her stomach knot. She forced a small nod, hoping he couldn’t see the terror behind her eyes.

‘Lead them to victory?’ she thought, heart pounding. ‘I don’t even know what this relic does.’

The air grew heavier as they began their march, the road to the Abyss winding through desolate, rocky terrain. The mist thickened the farther they went, clinging to their cloaks and armor like the breath of the earth itself.

The adventurers from the Guild, rough-looking men and women with scarred faces and steady hands, moved with practiced ease, their eyes scanning the horizon for danger. The mages, too, walked with a quiet focus, their fingers brushing the hilts of enchanted daggers or the spines of spellbooks slung at their sides.

Ellie, at the head of the group, walked in silence. Every step felt like it was pulling her deeper into a nightmare. Her thoughts were a tangle of fear and uncertainty, and the relic’s faint hum was the only thing grounding her in the moment. But even that felt like a distant comfort, a fragile thing that might slip away at any moment.

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As they traveled, the landscape shifted from barren hills to sharp, jagged cliffs. The path narrowed, forcing them into single file as the wind howled through the narrow pass. The mist grew denser, swirling around them in strange patterns, and Ellie could feel the air thickening with magic—the kind of old, dark magic that felt more like a living thing than a force of nature.

Kolvin moved closer to her, his brow furrowed. "The seals are failing," he murmured. "You can feel it, can’t you?"

Ellie nodded, her throat tightening. The pressure in the air was growing, a low, thrumming energy that seemed to seep from the earth itself. They were getting close.

Ahead, the ground dipped sharply, revealing a vast chasm—black and endless, as though the world itself had been torn open. Jagged stones jutted out from the sides of the Abyss, and deep below, faint glimmers of red light pulsed, like embers buried beneath ash. Ellie shivered, the cold air biting at her skin. This was it. The Devil’s Abyss.

The group came to a halt at the edge of the chasm, their faces pale, their breaths quickening. Even the adventurers, hardened as they were, seemed unsettled by the sight.

Master Kolvin stepped forward, his voice quiet but firm. "This is where he was sealed—the ancient king of the devils. This is where we make our stand."

Ellie stared down into the Abyss, her heart pounding in her chest. The red light below flickered, growing brighter, and the air buzzed with energy. The seals—whatever ancient magic had held the devil king imprisoned for centuries—were failing. She could feel it, like threads snapping in the air, one by one.

Kolvin turned to her, his expression grave. "You have the relic, Ellie. We’ll hold off Achron and his forces, but it’s up to you to stop the ritual."

Ellie’s breath caught in her throat. ‘Me?’

Her hands shook, and the relic felt heavier than ever in her pocket. She wanted to protest, to tell him that she wasn’t the hero they thought she was—that she was just someone who had stumbled her way into this mess.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, she nodded, forcing her feet to move toward the edge of the chasm.

The others fanned out behind her, weapons drawn, spells at the ready. The mages began murmuring incantations, their hands glowing faintly with arcane light, while the adventurers took up defensive positions along the rocky outcrop. The wind howled through the Abyss, carrying with it the faint sound of chanting—low, guttural voices echoing up from the depths below.

Ellie’s heart raced. Achron. He was down there, somewhere in the darkness, finishing what he had started. The seals were almost gone, and the ancient devil king was stirring. She could feel it in the air, a cold, creeping dread that pressed in on her like a physical force.

She took a deep breath and pulled the relic from her pocket. It gleamed faintly in the mist, its runes pulsing with a soft, blue light. The power inside it hummed against her skin, and for a brief moment, she wondered if she could truly wield it—if she could somehow stop what was coming.

But how?

Behind her, the others were preparing for battle. Kolvin stepped forward, his staff raised, his voice steady as he gave commands. "We hold the line here. No one gets past us. We must give Lady Ellie time."

Ellie’s hands tightened around the relic. Time. That was what they were giving her—but for what? She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to stop this. The relic thrummed in her hands, almost mocking her uncertainty, and for the first time, Ellie felt the true weight of the responsibility she had taken on.

The chanting from below grew louder, and the ground beneath her feet trembled. The air thickened, darkening with magic so old and powerful that it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

‘This is it,’ she thought, heart pounding. ‘The seals are breaking.’

She took a step closer to the edge of the chasm, staring down into the darkness. The red light below flared, and a terrible, ancient voice echoed up from the depths—a voice filled with power and malice, a voice that sent a chill through Ellie’s very soul.

The devil king was waking.

Ellie’s grip tightened on the relic. She had no plan, no strategy. She had only the relic and the hope that, somehow, it would be enough.

But deep down, she wasn’t sure it would be.