Chapter 40: The Abyss Shifts

Kemmel had anticipated the mission might fail, but Atros’s death was unthinkable.

After all, Atros was a mage’s natural enemy.

A 6th Circle mage couldn’t kill him, and even a 7th Circle mage would struggle.

If Atros decided to flee, he could escape even a 7th Circle mage’s full assault.

Moreover, this mission was staged by Atros and four assassination teams, with traps prepared.

So how could Atros have died without even falling into one?

“Adir,” Kemmel called.

Adir emerged from the floor, his face filled with shock.

The assassination teams were under his command, and their soul stones were in his possession.

If Atros was dead, the team leaders likely were too.

Their simultaneous deaths would explain Adir’s expression.

“Atros is dead too,” Kemmel said.

“…Even Atros?” Adir asked, stunned.

“Yes. The team leaders are all gone too, right?”

“Yes, just now, all at once…”

“…Just now? How long ago?”

Kemmel couldn’t help but ask.

Atros had died moments ago, and now the team leaders simultaneously?

“Right before you called. Less than a minute,” Adir replied.

Kemmel was speechless.

All at once? Atros and the team leaders?

It was hard to believe.

How could Atros die alongside them?

Simultaneous deaths were possible if they were subdued, but that was even more troubling.

Not just killed in battle, but subdued?

“I need to think. Go back and stand by. Don’t investigate further,” Kemmel ordered.

“…Understood,” Adir replied, hesitating briefly before vanishing.

Kemmel opened a drawer and took out a communication crystal—not a decorative one, but one linked to Keplin, the 3rd Branch’s only Archmage.

Swish!

“What’s the matter?” Keplin’s voice came through as the crystal glowed.

“Can we talk for a moment?”

“I have about fifteen minutes before a speech.”

“Then I’ll get to the point. Could you kill Atros and four assassination teams on their prepared stage?”

“Atros? The 2nd Elder’s experiment?”

“Yes.”

“Hm…”

Keplin let out a low groan.

Kemmel waited, and Keplin answered, “I could handle the assassination teams easily, but Atros’s ridiculous resistance and recovery make it nearly impossible to kill him.”

Kemmel’s expression said, As expected.

Even Keplin, a 7th Circle Archmage, couldn’t kill Atros.

“Why the sudden question? Are you planning something against me?” Keplin asked.

“No, no. We sent Atros and four teams to eliminate an Archmage named Gaon, but they’re all dead.”

“…Gaon? Never heard of him. Which tower?”

“He’s with Gardion Tower mages, likely under a false identity.”

“…Gardion Tower?” Keplin’s voice turned curious.

“What’s strange?”

“The name Gaon is special in Gardion Tower. Even if it’s your real name, you must change it to join due to their founder. It’s an old rule.”

“Because of the first Tower Master?”

“Yes. Who are the Gardion mages with him?”

“Elder Baren and his disciple, Taylor.”

“An elder wouldn’t miss that rule. This could be spun into a good story.”

Keplin’s voice carried a hint of excitement.

“If you need my help, let me know. I’m visiting Gardion Tower in six months.”

“Thank you. I’ll contact you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

The communication ended.

“Adir,” Kemmel called again.

Adir reappeared from the floor.

“Where are they now?”

“Likely the Gelita Plains.”

“Next destination?”

“Probably back to the tower. Baren and Taylor left for this mission.”

Kemmel fell into thought.

I can’t go myself.

Atros and four teams had been defeated.

To take down Gaon, someone who had crossed the wall would be needed, but no one was available.

Pass it to the 3rd Elder?

He thought of Lilith, who oversaw Gardion Tower.

“Send all information on the Gardion mages to the 3rd Elder.”

Looking at the burning bodies of Atros and the assassins, Gaon thought, I don’t know where to start.

Atros knew more than expected—not just about the 3rd Branch, but the 4th Branch, the Abyss’s Holy Land, and its rulers.

I thought I’d destroyed them back then…

Seventy years ago, Gaon believed he had annihilated the Abyss.

He’d killed their lord, the ten strongest members, and destroyed their stronghold.

But Atros revealed that, despite a great calamity, the lord’s and the ten’s successors survived, becoming the new lord and ten.

At least their infighting is a silver lining.

In the past, the Abyss’s power was centralized under the lord.

Now, while the lord remained dominant, the ten held significant power and checked each other to maintain or expand their influence.

The Abyss wasn’t alone in this—three major demonic factions existed: the Abyss, nations and groups that betrayed humanity, and demons from the demonic realm.

All were embroiled in internal and external power struggles.

Without this, humanity’s situation would be far worse.

The bodies turned to ash and vanished.

Sigh.

Gaon turned back toward the carriage, sharing some of the information with Rotes and Taylor as they headed to the Gelita Plains.

“Is this a good thing?” Rotes asked, bewildered.

The demonic factions’ infighting bought time, but their scale was far larger than expected.

Rotes had thought the balance was roughly 5:5, excluding the coexistence zone.

Now, it felt more like 2:8 or 3:7 in humanity’s disfavor.

Without the infighting, the situation would be catastrophic.

“Are they in the tower too?” Rotes asked cautiously.

The tower had faced turmoil before, and while internal factions existed, Rotes assumed no one was tied to external forces.

But given the situation, the Abyss likely had infiltrators.

“Probably,” Gaon nodded.

“They might even be high up. Don’t trust just anyone.”

He didn’t tell Rotes that one of the 7th Circle mages—Tower Master Sterun, Vice-Master Glaxios, or Great Elder Balversa—was likely a traitor.

“Understood,” Rotes replied.

As they spoke—

“We’ve arrived,” Taylor called from the driver’s seat.

They had reached the Gelita Plains.

“To the first expected hideout,” Taylor said.

Gaon extended his senses to the maximum.

Unlike Pagra Prairie, the Gelita Plains were home to monsters and demonic beasts, including goblins, trolls, and their target—mutant ogres.

Soon, his senses picked up presences—goblins and ordinary beasts, judging by their energy.

Then—

…!

Gaon’s eyes sharpened.

Multiple strong presences appeared, their energy resembling ogres—likely the mutant ogre pack.

But there was a problem: they were fighting another group, not monsters or beasts, but humans.

The group consisted of warriors, mages, and shamans, likely a mercenary band.

“Found them…” Gaon began, then paused.

This energy…

The shaman’s energy matched that of an Abyss shaman from Raves.

The Abyss?

Similar energy didn’t confirm it, but given the same environment and training, it was highly likely.

“Any problem?” Rotes asked cautiously.

“Wait here,” Gaon said, stepping out of the carriage.

“Fly.”

He cast Fly and headed to the battle site.

Upon arrival, he was slightly taken aback.

…These are ogres?

The mutant ogres were winning.

At this rate, they’d triumph in ten minutes.

It wasn’t just their overwhelming size—they moved tactically, like knights.

The ogres Gaon knew were brute-force monsters that charged recklessly.

A pack using tactics was unthinkable.

It shattered everything he knew about ogres.

I’d love to study them…

He activated his circles, wanting to investigate their behavior, but the situation didn’t allow it.

Focusing on the shaman chanting relentlessly, Gaon said, “Ifrit’s Wall.”

Whoosh!

A massive wall of fire enveloped the ogres and humans, halting the battle.

Gaon cast his next spell.

“Thunder Rain.”

Swish!

A giant magic circle appeared in the sky, unleashing bolts of lightning.

Crackle! Crackle! Crackle!

Each bolt struck an ogre, killing every one instantly.

Having finished the hunt, Gaon descended, releasing his energy to dominate the area and immobilize everyone.

A middle-aged man, likely the mercenary leader, struggled to speak.

“Who… are you?”

“Just need to check something. It won’t take long,” Gaon replied, approaching the shaman.

He placed a hand on the shaman’s shoulder, injecting Pacheongi to check for restrictions.

…Huh?

He was stunned.

No restrictions?

There were none in the brain or heart, nor any Painless Technique.

…Not Abyss?

Despite similar energy and training, it wasn’t them—an outcome he’d thought nearly impossible.

…Ahem.

Gaon coughed awkwardly, retracting his energy.

Everyone regained freedom, and the middle-aged man approached.

As Gaon prepared to apologize for the misunderstanding—

“Thank you for saving us!” the man exclaimed, bowing deeply.