City of Sin Book 9, Chapter 104

Into The Abyss
“Zeal...or…” Richard forced his expression back to normal. He could sense traces of Nyris from within this night elf’s soul, but he also knew that it was a brand new one that still reeked of divinity. Nyris had clearly fused his powerful darkthunder titan bloodline into the special unit that the broodmother’s clone had been making, giving up his life for the creation of this powerful drone. The ancient lightning destroyers were amongst the most powerful beings in the void, and her bloodline was amongst the purest in recent times. This bloodline was the reason the Millennial Empire had risked falling out with Apeiron just to secure a marriage with her.
Richard connected to “Zealor” and quickly found out just what had happened. After finishing her analysis of the Golden World Tree, the broodmother’s clone had set about making a special unit when Nyris convinced her to use her as a vessel. In the process, she had given up her womanhood as well, eliminating all gender to become a sexless being that was the only variant night elf.
A number of coincidences had resulted in an astonishingly powerful unit, but there was a heavy price to pay on all fronts. Nyris had disappeared forever, and the broodmother’s clone had dropped all the way down to level 10. The Golden World Tree that fuelled the process had lost more than half its leaves, and would take years if not decades to recover.
Forcing down the churning in his stomach, Richard jumped onto a wasp, “Come, we’re setting off.”
“Yes, Master.” Zealor hopped gracefully up behind him, taking his place as Richard’s shadow.
The other legends quickly jumped onto their own wasps, the terrifying army taking to the skies in quick succession and disappearing into the portal in tandem. The second human expedition into the abyss had begun.
Most people believed that every layer of the abyss was the same. It was all crimson skies, billowing smoke, cracked earth, and lava flowing everywhere. However, those like Richard and Greyhawk knew that even a single layer could have many different things within. Richard’s eyes glowed as he saw divine symbols scattered all about, a physical form of the abyssal laws that were different from point to point. These laws resulted in different levels of power, and those familiar with demonology could tell where a demon was from using characteristics and level alone.
Richard’s gaze landed on a magma pool that wasn’t far away, just in time to catch a dozen crimson rocks flying out from within. These rocks slowly cracked open to reveal their four limbs, with long tails and small, fleshy wings starting to form. They immediately jumped upon each other, fighting their first battle right after birth. Most of them were killed off within moments, leaving behind only four that arrived at a tacit understanding and began to eat their kin. Their bodies started growing larger as they feasted, and by the time they were done each one was a third bigger than before with the stubs of horns starting to protrude from their heads. Once those horns were completely out, they would qualify as the most common of demonkind.
Such pools were found all over the abyss, spawning an untold number of lesser demons that ate their own kind to grow. Only a quarter of these lesser demons would evolve into actual demons in their lives, and a tiny fraction of that number becoming greater demons. There were only a handful of lesser lords in every layer of the abyss, and not every layer even had an archlord. Such was the cycle of the abyss.
The four lesser demons that had just evolved suddenly looked into the sky, screaming with panic as they saw an enormous shadow flitting past them. That shadow was quickly followed by many more, and the auras radiating from within them were terrifying to these creatures. Even the greater demons around started to flee in panic, scattering in all directions as they looked for places to hide in.
Stood atop his wasp, Richard stared out into the boundless chaos around him. He didn’t pay any attention to the frantic demons who were trying to escape, his mind instead focused on following the changes in the laws here to locate a passage to another layer. In front of him was a strange picture made of dozens of lit spots, coordinates that the elves had marked during their search for Arbidis. He had to cross through multiple layers on his own before he could even confirm where he was in relation to these coordinates, and he would then have to find the closest one and start heading down towards the fabled deepest point in the world.
Standing beside Richard, Greyhawk suddenly snapped out of his own recording process and asked, “I’ve wanted to ask since Lithgalen, are you the most powerful human being now?”
Richard laughed, “Most powerful, huh. What do you think?”
Greyhawk started pondering after the rebound, considering the powerhouses of the Millennial Empire before speaking, “When we were in that final battle against the reapers, I could say with certainty that you weren’t. But now I can’t see through you anymore. What happened?”
Richard’s eyes lost focus for a moment as he sighed with regret. What happened? He had absorbed hundreds of millions of souls in the name of giving them salvation, taking on their memories, stories, and hopes. Those people had now fused into him and were inseparable from his own existence. These people had thus left a brand of their existence behind, refusing to die until he did. They would be scattered upon his own demise, most likely vanishing right after, but one could never be certain.
Every life was unique in its own way. These souls didn’t give Richard too much power outside of the spiritual realm, but their worlds had left a tangible impact on him. Like Nasia had said so long ago, it was the fundamental actions that had been trained over generations that revealed the foundations of a world, and the lives of commoners were windows into the inner workings of reality. Even the most lowly slaves had a tiny impact in their own way, and those negligible brands had compounded over millions of people to give Richard a full understanding of the laws of Faelor. At the same time, the experiences he had assimilated allowed him to grasp any law much faster than before.
Richard now had hundreds of full law systems under his control. While he had only grown one level on the surface, his battle techniques, mana, bloodline, and truename were all fused together into one cohesive whole. He increasingly felt like he could do almost anything he pleased in battle.
However, as he thought of Greyhawk’s question a number of memories flashed past his mind. He eventually settled on a simple dinner with Emperor Philip, where had marvelled at the large man’s ability to devour dragon meat. He sighed, “If Philip were still alive, I likely wouldn’t be able to defeat him. The same goes for Ferlyn.”
A strange expression flashed across Greyhawk’s face, “Ferlyn doesn’t count, she isn’t even a Norlander. In fact, even when she stood in front of you she actually experienced a completely different flow of spacetime. As far as I’m aware, she used all of her spare time decades ago and cast herself into the currents of time. The one you’ve met was possibly just an avatar of the Eternal Dragon.”
“An avatar?” Richard asked in confusion.
“Someone with body and power from the Eternal Dragon, and a fragment of a mind from Ferlyn’s soul. I’m not certain why this happened, but it was rumoured that it had something to do with Philip. Her Majesty Apeiron should be the only one who knows.”
Richard nodded silently, thinking back to what the Eternal Dragon had said about Flowsand. Perhaps she was the same…
However, his thoughts were interrupted by a scream, “DAAAAD! I WANNA SLEEP!”
The resounding complaint came from one of the wasps at the centre of the fleet, and the whining tone rang in everyone’s ears. Even as Greyhawk suppressed a chuckle, Richard shook his head and blinked away.
“DAAAAAAD!” The shout had come from Fiora, who was currently sitting in a large spell formation within the central wasp. Crimson abyssal flames were raging all around her, amplifying her aura and sending it out to the vicinity so there wouldn’t be any foolhardy demons trying to attack them. Even lesser lords would be cautious of approaching them, but of course things weren’t guaranteed. Any that did come close simply wound up as a part of Richard’s treasury.
Fiora wasn’t particularly burdened by this spell formation; even in Norland she could sustain it for a decade without rest, and here in the abyss she simply recuperated faster than she tired herself out. The problem was that she was truly a demon by nature, and sitting still wasn’t something she could do.
She was about to whine again when Richard’s voice rang out, “Three more days, then you’ll get some rest.”
“THREE DAYS?!” she shrieked.
“You want it to be five?”
The girl’s body immediately shuddered, and she shut up without daring to make a sound. While she could be casual around her father on most days, his aura of an archlord ensured that she was naturally afraid of his power. Demonic as she was, that meant she simply had to obey the higher power.