Chrysalis

In the deepest parts of the third stratum the mana was so thick it hung in the air like a soup. Every breath filled a monster's lungs with fire and ash, enough to choke most creatures, or burn them from the inside out. Beyond this, an aura of evil hung over every rock and dripped from every stone, as if the sins of the denizens of this place had been so extreme that it had seeped into every atom, penetrating the fibre of matter itself.

In this place a vast lake of fire could be found. Those that knew of it referred to it as Durgotha, the ever burning. To the more observant, the lake was not one of fire at all, although it may appear that way. The heat that radiated from the vast pit, more than a kilometre across and hundreds of metres deep was enough to ignite a normal monster simply for drawing close, but rather than fire, it was pure fire mana that radiated this deadly heat. So potent it could be seen by the naked eye, the pulsing red mana ebbed and flowed in a slow dance as it was drawn ever deeper, sinking to the bottom before it would shift to the edges of the lake and rise once more.

To many, even to most demons, this was simply a place of great power, a location to be coveted for its incredible wealth of mana. Even so, none dared to approach it, it simply wasn't done. Those that sought to claim the ever burning lake for themselves seldom lived for long, such power was not to be held by the likes of them. As such, to demons this was a place of fear and caution, best avoided as much as possible. To the oldest and deepest of their kind, this location held a different fear. There were precious few places in the third stratum that would support a tier eight demon, that could provide the kind of mana that they needed to survive. In these select locations, the mightiest of demon kind dwelt, sleeping the ages away as they waited for the call.

Odin Malum crept across the bare stone, instincts screaming of danger. He didn't want to be here, but the god had spoken and he found he had no choice but to obey, his blood, the very cells of his body demanding he acquiesce to the monster he had seen in his sleep. He hated this servile existence, his pride as a lone wolf couldn't stand having an authority stand on his shoulders, but he couldn't see a way out.

He had grown powerful feeding on the lives of those he had defeated, but he could not imagine growing strong enough to kill that. Even during his evolution, when he stood before Arconidem, it felt as if his soul was shaking. If he were to find the demon and appear before him in his physical body, it would likely be even worse. Unconsciously, Odin flexed the blades that extended from his forearms. It had been difficult to travel this far and only by drawing on every Skill he'd learned in his previous life and this one had he been able to survive. Now that he was so close to his destination, he hesitated.

It was so quiet. Unnaturally so. It took him a moment to realise what it was that was missing.

between layers he'd been relieved to learn, grateful not to have the

the demon god had inflicted upon him, so he dipped into his skills, sunk his profile as low as he could and continued to creep forward. Before him, the slowly churning lake of

to turn around and leave, his body refused to obey. Instead, he extended one blade and expertly clawed a section of stone free. Using

Then, he waited.

had grown used to waiting. Patience was a virtue for any hunter, and he was no different. In fact, in this area, he excelled, capable of waiting for days in cramped locations as his target moved to the perfect position. But now, he struggled within himself as the seconds dragged on. His core throbbed with his burning need to be anywhere but here, but his feet remained rooted to the ground by the command of Arconidem. The war raged within

it

more quickly. Before Odin's horrified eyes, a deep shadow appeared at the bottom of Durgotha, a vast darkness that shifted and grew in his eyes. Ever more quickly, the fire mana rotated and thickened as the centre of the pool dipped down until the entire lake had transformed into a swirling tornado

raged, drawing close enough to his feet that the claws on his

have awoken me, little mouse. Speak. Then

screaming thirst for death that drove almost all semblance of

he gasped, [with a message

long last my master has called for me. Speak,