Chapter 237: Abyss Residents

Chapter 237: Abyss Residents

Luo En cautiously unfolded the glowing parchment.

The translucent ink sketched a complex terrain map across its surface, the lines shifting between clarity and obscurity as though constantly reshaping themselves under reality’s influence. The map’s edges shimmered faintly—not with physical light, but with traces of profound mana etched into the parchment itself.

“This is truly astonishing,” Luo En murmured, his fingertips sensing the faint pulse emanating from the map’s surface. It felt alive.

Some areas bore faded bloodstains—not ordinary ink, but likely the mapmaker’s own blood. This ancient marking method remained resilient against Abyss mana corruption. Luo En noted the subtle traces of life force lingering in the stains, undiminished even after years had passed.

“Blood marking is the oldest and most reliable Abyss cartography technique,” Madame Ellen said, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.

As she brushed the map’s edge, faint green patterns flickered across her skin before vanishing. “Common ink fades quickly under Abyss essence erosion, even twisting into grotesque forms. But blood—especially a mage’s blood—resists that decay.”

“This map is invaluable,” Luo En said sincerely, gratitude in his eyes. Tracing the bloodstained regions, he felt a faint, lingering vitality. “Having such a reference before an official expedition will undoubtedly boost my survival odds.”

Madame Ellen shook her head slightly, her emerald eyes flashing with self-deprecation. She drew a strange rune in the air, which glowed briefly before dissolving into a hovering silver mist between them.

“Don’t overestimate its worth.” The mist projected a three-dimensional map, revealing the Abyss’s shifting topography in three-dimensional form.

“The Abyss itself is a writhing living entity. Many marked locations may have transformed completely by the time you arrive.”

With a flick of her fingertip, the projection twisted—mountains collapsed, rivers rerouted, like a living painting constantly reshaping itself. Luo En leaned forward, captivated by every detail.

Madame Ellen sat on a creaking wooden chair, the legs screeching against the floor as she gestured for him to do the same. Liliya silently brewed tea for both before retreating, the aroma weaving a calm atmosphere into their conversation.

“If you truly intend to explore the Abyss,” Madame Ellen took a sip, her brow furrowing slightly at the bitter taste. She blew across the tea’s surface, and the projection shifted to reveal a gray-stone town:

“Head to ‘Ashen Town’ first. It’s the largest outpost near the Abyss’s entrance. Almost every explorer makes their final preparations there.”

Luo En leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. His instinct told him—information was the sharpest weapon against unknown dangers. He studied the projected town’s layout, memorizing every architectural nuance.

“Ashen Town lies at a safe distance—one day’s walk from the Abyss Edge,” Madame Ellen swiped her hand, revealing the gaping black entrance to the Abyss. “Yet the town still feels faint traces of Abyss essence.”

Her voice darkened. “It’s an oppressive presence, as if something constantly watches you, probing for weaknesses.” Her emerald eyes narrowed, black pupils constricting into slits as if recalling unpleasant memories. The projection dimmed, a thin layer of black mist shrouding the gray town, casting an ominous atmosphere.

“Many first-timers experience the same nightmare—falling into the Abyss’s depths, consumed entirely by darkness.” She swirled her tea, forming a vortex like the Abyss devouring life. “Some weak-willed individuals flee the next morning after just this dream.”

She fixed her gaze on Luo En. “Those who stay… most become one-way travelers into the Abyss.”

Luo En straightened instinctively, feeling the pressure radiating from her words. Through her narrative and mana projections, the Abyss’s oppressive presence had already taken shape in his mind—a shadowy, unsettling force.

“Ashen Town draws all kinds of people,” Madame Ellen continued, diverse figures appearing in the projection: cloaked mages, armored mercenaries, backpack-laden explorers, cunning merchants, and even eccentric madmen with darting eyes.

“Mages, adventurers, mercenaries, collectors, merchants…” Her voice carried subtle reflection. “Even those seduced by the Abyss. Some seek wealth, others power or knowledge… and some…” Her tone dropped. “Flee from their past.”

Luo En noticed a fleeting shadow of regret in her eyes as she mentioned the last group.

“At least seven or eight notable inns operate there, each with unique characteristics.” With a wave, a bustling tavern appeared—its lively chatter and laughter seemingly escaping the projection.

“‘The Drunken Cat’ is adventurers’ favorite haunt—cheap drinks, fast information flow, but noisy and unsanitary.” The projection showed a smiling yet alert bartender serving diverse adventurers.

“‘Silver Moon Mansion’ caters to wealthy travelers—quiet, clean, exceptional service, but costing triple ordinary rates.” Madame Ellen suddenly smiled, her eyes gleaming with reminiscence, wrinkles softening. “I stayed there a few times. Once, a self-proclaimed ‘Scion of Infernos’ boasted about controlling Abyss flames in the adjacent room.”

A black-robed figure emerged, sinister purple flames dancing in his hands. “Until one day, his room erupted in unquenchable purple flames. Two hours later, only ash and a sinister crystal remained.” The projection showed the room engulfed, leaving only charred remains and a glowing purple crystal.

“After that, ‘Silver Moon Mansion’ banned using any Abyss-related items or spells within their premises.” Her lips curled with irony.

She paused, her hand stilling as the projection froze. “There’s also the ‘Nightmare Lodge’…” Her tone grew cautious. The projection revealed an ordinary yet unsettling building, a tattered sign reading “Nightmare Lodge” swinging above the door.

“It caters to travelers already mildly Abyss-contaminated. The owner—a Moonlight Rank mage—developed methods to slow the corruption’s spread. Naturally, at great cost.”

The projection shifted inward—special rooms carved with suppression runes. Pale, hollow-eyed guests lay in beds, their skin crawling with sinister black patterns.

A wisp of complex emotion flickered in her eyes. With a flick, the projection reverted to Ashen Town’s panorama.

“A century ago, when I last left, the town had expanded thrice over, its rooms multiplied. You understand the implications?”

Luo En nodded thoughtfully, fingers tapping his teacup. “Ashen Town itself seems a study in survival.” His mind raced, already strategizing how to maximize gains and safety in that environment.

“Indeed.” Madame Ellen affirmed, the projection shifting to residents—slightly gray-skinned, their eyes glowing faintly in darkness.

“Ashen Town is a perfect study of Abyssal influence. Long-term exposure to faint Abyss essence has caused subtle yet undeniable transformations.”

A close-up revealed gray patterns beneath a resident’s skin, their eyes glowing faintly in shadows.

“Skin takes a permanent grayish hue, like dust that won’t wash off; eyes adapt to darkness, seeing clearly in pitch black; some even develop strange abilities—sensing Abyss mana fluctuations or foreseeing danger.”

Her tone turned warning as the projection shifted to a bloody brawl—two men fighting over a small crystal, one stabbing the other fatally.

“But don’t mistake Ashen Town’s surface calm for safety. Its rules differ starkly from Black Mist Jungle—bloodier, more direct. Abyss influence amplifies humanity’s darker instincts.”

Madame Ellen’s gaze hardened, weariness from witnessing too much darkness evident. “I’ve seen a man kill his lifelong friend for a worthless Abyss crystal. Watched a seemingly gentle merchant pour molten lead down a thief-boy’s throat.” The silent projections conveyed enough horror without sound.

A flash of disgust crossed her face. “Worst of all, such events barely qualify as news in Ashen Town. People discuss them as casually as today’s weather.”

Luo En nodded, committing these warnings to memory. The projections conveyed Abyss’s twisted atmosphere—a reality no book could match. For a newly ascended Full Mage, overconfidence was the gravest weakness. These warnings would keep him vigilant, avoiding unnecessary dangers.

“Now, to the core—about the shallowest Abyss Edge region.” Madame Ellen’s voice sharpened, her eyes gleaming with caution.

“Curse effects remain weak enough for most transcendents to endure briefly. Mutation creatures there are relatively weak—low-level beasts transformed by Abyss mana contamination: six-eyed worms, radiation toads, bone-claw rats. Many schools send High Apprentices to capture them for experiments.”

The projection displayed these creatures: a multi-eyed worm oozing corrosive fluid; a tumor-backed toad spewing toxic gas; a swarm of razor-clawed rats slicing metal effortlessly.

Madame Ellen shook her head, lips curling with scorn. The projection blended these creatures with human explorers—a sinister tableau.

“Many first-timers linger too long in edge regions, lulled into false security. They fail to realize—it’s the Abyss’s ‘gentle trap.’ It lets you adapt to weaker curses first… before luring you deeper, until escape becomes impossible.”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end