Ian rushed through the molten lava, his pulse hammering with excitement and horror as the constellation of stars twinkled beneath his boots. He got to the deepest part of the miasma and strained to keep his palm over his nose as the terrible stench filled his nostrils. The air was heavy and oppressive, and the struggle to keep his eyes open made them water.

Ian drew to a standstill as he moved further, his movements pausing when he came face to face with a massive, dark abyss. It was a haven from the lava, and the peculiar silence was almost unnerving. The dark gaping hole appeared to be a gateway that could transport people to another realm, and Ian felt an odd draw towards it. For a few moments, he stood there, his heart beating with curiosity and anxiety.

“That must be the portal to the Abyss,” Ian whispered. He understood exactly what he had to do. When he tosses the magical fragments into the Abyss portal, it will collapse in a rush of energy and seal on its own.

A voice boomed from his back with footsteps echoing throughout the hall. “You’re not wrong.”

Ian’s gaze was drawn to the figure behind him, and he noticed a disguised elf with rings on his fingers. At first sight, Ian realized the mask was more than just a decoration. It appeared to be suppressing something within the elf. The sword hung from the elf’s belt and had a hilt with blue wings.

“Krystol, am I right?”

“I didn’t get yours.” A slight gust of wind blew from beneath his cape. Ian noticed his both hands were dry, like branches of twigs. Burned scars covered his hands. His face was thin as if he hadn’t had a meal for days. From there, Ian knew he was right. The side effects of the conjuration spells were detrimental to the caster.

“Ian. How could you stand living in this stench?”

From the back of his mask, Krystol’s eyes gleamed with joy. “Ian, why have you come? This space means nothing to you. Unless you are looking for this.” Krystol said, pulling out the Diary of Solace.

Ian’s eyes lighted up, recognizing the book in his hand. He only showed a stoic face and suppressed his urge for excitement, showing only a stoic face. “Why would I be interested in an overly decorated book?”

The grin on Krystol’s face didn’t fade. With the raise of his arm, the rows of blue and green crystals on the pillars illuminated with patterns and ancient symbols, revealing the interior of a dark throne room. Empty dark pots and blown-out candles were arranged randomly around the room. The atmosphere was eerie, swirling with nothing but miasma.

“You can’t lie, dear Ian.”

“And I know that you can’t cast spells now.”

“Really?”

Krystol’s mask shattered under the pressure of the overflowing miasma, revealing the darkness beneath. Ian recoiled as he saw the black flame erupt from the mask and engulf Krystol’s body. The pillars surrounding the throne room shook as the crystals began to move and reshape, forming crystallized creatures at Krystol’s command.

As Krystol took his seat on the throne, his eyes glowed with a fierce blue, surrounded by the black flames that licked at his skin. His gaze was intimidating as he rested his head on his hand, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest.

“You are cursed. Won’t you die if you overuse the power?” Ian said, his eyes narrowed.

“That’s the least of your worries now.” With a flick of his withered hand, Krystol summoned the first two beasts, using the crystal on the pillars as a source. The first took on the form of a ferocious werewolf made of a green crystal with razor-sharp claws and fangs that glinted in the dim light. The second creature was a massive python with two muscular arms, each wielding a deadly short sword. Like their master, the beasts wore masquerade masks of vibrant blue, concealing their eyes from view.

With a deep breath, Ian called out for Dorado, invoking the power of the stars once again. A blue aura surrounded him as the cuffs on his neck and limbs reappeared. He charged toward the werewolf with renewed vigor. This time, he aimed for the creature’s exposed flank by jumping up, striking it with a swift and precise blow.

The werewolf was made of crystal, deflecting the sword off its body. Grinning, it lunged forward, its claws digging into Ian’s shoulder. With a grunt of pain, Ian quickly stepped back, narrowly avoiding a fatal strike. He knew he couldn’t let his guard down, not even for a moment.

As the werewolf prepared for its next attack, Ian took a defensive stance, waiting for the right moment to strike. The werewolf released a small howl as it charged toward Ian, slashing him right in his torso and punching him in his guts.

With a cry of surprise, Ian was flung backward into the room by the force of the werewolf’s attack. His sword clattered to the ground as he scrambled to draw his crossbow. He fired off several bolts imbued with fiery magic, but the beast was too quick, dodging each one with ease despite its massive size.

Ian drew in his breath and charged against the wolf once more. The boy deflected all the wolf’s attacks, waiting for the right moment to strike. With a swift movement, Ian threw his dagger toward the werewolf’s mask, aiming for the center of the mask. The dagger pierced through the mask, shattering it. Once the mask shattered, the wolf turned into nothing but green dust, blown away by the wind.

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He used the opportunity to glance at the throne. Krystol was sitting still, unaffected by the loss of his crystal soldier. It could be his imagination, but his withered skin was drier than before.

The python didn’t stop there as it held up its two short swords. It managed to dodge Ian’s first attack by slithering aside, returning the favor by aiming for Ian’s flank. But Ian quickly turned over, barely managing to deflect the attack. Ian jumped backward to twice his usual jumping height, landing his two feet on the pillar. Using it as momentum, he charged toward the unnoticed python.

The tail end of the python managed to grab Ian’s leg at his left ankle, pulling him down before he could even land a strike. Ian barely maintained his balance with his right ankle. Looking up, he saw the two sword shorts of the python swinging wide, wanting to end his life.

Ian’s heart was pounding in his chest as he lunged forward, sword in hand. The python-like creature was quick, but Ian’s skill and agility allowed him to dodge its attacks and close in for the final blow. With fierce determination, he thrust his sword forward and impaled the blue crystal mask of the creature, utilizing the difference in reach. There was a flash of light, and then the creature disintegrated into a pile of dust. Ian stepped back, puffing, as he watched the dust dissipate into the air.

As Ian turned, he sensed a foreboding presence lurking behind him. A majestic female harpy crafted from shimmering blue crystals, donning the same eerie blue mask, hovered in the air. She wielded a long bow, which she drew back with substantial force, conjuring an array of radiant arrows that began to shower down upon Ian. With his focus sharpened, Ian expertly dodged the torrent of arrows, nimbly evading each one.

“Mensa,” he called out, running through midair, dragging the sword behind him. The constellation guided him through the skies. He used his sword to deflect any arrows that were aiming at him. The harpy descended slightly and glided to Ian, morphing its long bow into a crystal spear.

As the harpy thrust its spear toward Ian’s left shoulder blade, he quickly sidestepped to dodge the attack. Reacting quickly, Ian grabbed the harpy’s arm and used its momentum to jump on its back. The sudden weight caused the harpy to lose its balance, and it plummeted to the ground. Ian rolled off the harpy’s back as it crashed onto the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. Gasping for breath, Ian got up and readied himself for the next attack.

Looking at the glowing crystals on the pillars, there were about three crystal monsters left.

Before him stood a crystalized humanoid figure with the body of a large green scorpion. Its stinger was poised and ready, dripping with a deadly venom that slowly eroded the earth beneath it. Ian quickly jumped back, covering his mouth to avoid inhaling the poisonous fumes emanating from the creature.

“Lepus,” he muttered as the cuffs shined brightly.

He dodged the fallen poison to the earth like a prancing rabbit advancing toward the raging scorpion. With deep breaths, he leaped upwards, going over the stinger of the scorpion. Before he could cut it off, the scorpion retreated a few steps back and thrust his stinger forward. The stinger on its own was almost twice Ian’s size, trailed with deadly poison.

Ian missed his attack, landing straight on the ground. With a few somersaults, he managed to back away from the multiple thrusts of the stinger. His eyes were only fixated on the blue mask on the humanoid’s face. The giant scorpion took a step back before launching itself at Ian, who was running away from its attack. Before the scorpion landed, Ian turned his back away from it.

The earth quaked as the scorpion landed on the ground, baring its fangs with deadly poison around it. A few drops of poison dropped to the ground, creating small craters from its erosion. Ian gripped his sword tighter, coming up with a plan to close his distance. He dragged the sword by his side, charging toward the scorpion. As the stinger launched itself towards him, it missed, and Ian thrust his sword right through the venomous pouch of the stinger.

It groaned in agony, but Ian didn’t wait. After swiftly avoiding the splashes of poison, he took out his crossbow and released a bolt to the mask of the humanoid figure. The mask shattered like the others and turned into dust.

As Ian struggled to regain his senses, he heard metal dragging on the ground. He looked up and saw a towering tiger warrior with armor made of black crystal wielding a massive mace that crackled with electricity. The warrior figure stepped forward, swinging the mace with brutal force. He could feel the mace’s shockwaves behind him, shaking the ground and sending debris flying.

Before Ian could catch his breath, a heavy mace hit him from his side, sending him straight into the pillar. As soon as his back hit the pillar, he coughed out the air in his lungs; the impact created a crate on the pillar. The impact gave him a concussion. He knew he must run away from the subsequent attack.

The warrior launched forward, but Ian’s muscles couldn’t respond as he wished. Losing the strength battle, Ian was pinned down. His hand struggled to free from its grasp as he desperately looked around for a way to escape. He relaxed his arm, hoping that it was enough for him to have room to wriggle out. The blue tiger warrior swung his mace but missed as Ian rolled out of the way and lifted his sword, using his right hand. With a swift motion, he plunged it through the mask, shattering it and causing the warrior to shatter into dust.

Breathless and injured, Ian collapsed onto the ground. He knew he couldn’t let his guard down, as there was one more foe before him, ready to take him down. Gathering his strength, he slowly rose to his feet.

“You’re strong,” Krystol said, still seated on the throne. After Ian defeated his crystal monsters one by one, Krystol turned mummified. His body turned gray with an ashy texture, almost like a zombie. His blue eyes dulled but the black flames remained, burning away.

“This is why you shouldn’t meddle with the Abyss,” Ian said.

“The Abyss was only created after the Divine War. What do you think was contained in there?”

“Horror and the bad people?”

“Those who labeled themselves as ‘Gods’ won the war. Those who didn’t were stripped of their rights and were chained to the Abyss.”

“What do you mean? Weren’t there always Gods and Devils?”

“Don’t play around, Ian. I know you have the same thoughts as I did. That’s why you’re interested in this.”

His hand, gray and ashen, dropped a few chumps of dirt on the ground as he picked up the diary from the armrest. With a swift motion, he threw the diary across the throne room and slid down the hallway. The Diary of Solace landed straight on his feet.

“Only those who didn’t believe in the current deities would be able to read this book. The book contained the genuine history behind the Divine War. The lies they pass down through the Solace family from generation to generation,” Krystol explained.

“Why didn’t they destroy it?”

“Easy. Because they couldn’t. The proof is in the book itself.”

As Ian reached out to grab the book, he noticed the green crystals surrounding it. The crystals started growing and extending toward his hand. He quickly retracted his hand, knowing that the crystals were dangerous.

“Behind you,” Krystol said.