Shadow of the Abyss

A/N: Alternate Chapter Name: The Mad King

In the bailey, after Tasha had various serving girls dispose of the half-naked bodies of women slattered in chocolate and powdered sugar, she slit her wrist open with Gram into a red ruin to watch blood welter out. The wound was to the bone, but Tasha did not seem to react.

Beads of red rose from off the grass into the skies, connecting to form a complex amalgamation of infernal runes and sigils, weaving to give shape to form a cube that had five dimensions in space. For nearly twenty-four hours, the space of five dimensions turned to six and six to seven, reaching twelve across space and time.

The loss of blood did not seem to affect Tasha as her cool demeanor did not change, nor did it wane with any sort of fatigue. Only when she was done did she breathe a sigh and wipe the sudden stream of sweat racing down her striking features. Her breaths turned to labored pants as she collapsed onto her knee.

'A Twelve Stage Formation is still too much for me," she told herself. "Still, Father would be impressed." she looked up towards the rising of dawn and the scarlet cube glowing brilliance beneath the rays of first light.

"If I savage you now, do you think you will break?" The Vale King's cool, icy voice cut across the bailey.

A throbbing ache seeped into her loins as her breath grew harsh.

"My other self is so soft," he looked at the demoness on her back and grinned. "He has the best toy imaginable, yet he doesn't know how to use it."

"Vale King…" Tasha said, but he had already grabbed her by the hair, dragging her away with a savage grin, saying, "Allow me to congratulate you."

A day later, as Altair regained control, the lust and arrogance of his counterpart streamed into his mind like a whip across his strained psyche. Angry lines streamed from his brow, evaporating at how hot his body felt.

Tasha was a wreck. Her tongue lulled out like a bitch in heat, and his seed pulsing from out of her cunt. Her neck appeared as a red mess from where he'd savaged for blood. She was shaking, twitching, lost in an elated dream or perhaps a reality that she had once dreamt of.

'What have I…"

'What have we done,' The Vale King laughed. "You and I are one! What I do, I do for Us. Look at your stats."

[Altair Blackwood has broken Orgin System Restriction]

[Ninth Form, Aeron Has Increased All Attributes By 100]

Name: Altair Blackwood

Class: [ King of the Vale: Lv 175]

Mana Circle: [Fifth Circle: 99% → 99.99%]

Strength: 3000 → 3100

Dexterity: 3800 → 3900

Constitution: 4000 → 4100

Wisdom: 5000 → 5100

Charisma: 5000 → 5100

Mana: 400 → 401

The Vale King's demonic laughter crackled was the stuff of nightmares, turning the room to ice. Altair breathed, not understanding.

"How?! How is this possible!"

"I am the version of you with full authority of his abilities. While you listen to your Omniscience, I bend it to my will. Uncle said it best. The Omniscience is but the thrum of the Weave. So what happens when we pluck its string? What happens when you squeeze it?"

Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion weaved through Altair, coiling around his muscles and dragging him down, down, down. He falled over Tasha, burying his head into her breast.

"We shall dominate this realm! You and I. We shall conquer Allmore. We will burn the Church of Sepith down and take their women. Imagine it, Blackwood! Imagine a world of utter women.

A harem as large as the realm itself. They say a righteous cunt is the best kind. So let us start with—"

"FUCK OFF!" Altair roared, fury unfolding like an avalanche of raw emotions.

[Ninth Form, Aeron, has Incresead, strength, by 10]

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[Strength: 3100 → 3110]

"Yes! Yes! Embellish in your rage, Blackwood!" The Vale King roared, his crazed laughter deprived of warmth, for there only existed sin. "Sear that fury in our bones, and let us Tarnish the Realm! Why hold back? Why?

Look at that slut before you."

It was a struggle, but Altair forced himself up and stared down at Tasha. She was unconscious, but her fingers were still ruthlessly savaging her downstairs.

"That anger you feel. Take it out on her. She can take it. Devils are immortal. Even if you lop off her head and fuck her corpse. She's returned.

She can take it. It's why Gremory gave her to us. She was built for our lust, for our Madness.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Altair reached forward, squeezing her tit. She squirmed, her ruby eyes opening with a lewd smile.

Once more, the walls of Madness closed around Altair as the inner demon of the Lord of the Vale whispered its temptation and lies. Inciting the Ninth Form to blossom like an ancient tree.

Above the realm, Iliana, maddening, laughed etched across time and space to chill the souls of Gods and demons alike. "It's alright if I create a monster, right?" she glanced down at Altair and sensed the growing Madness, branding itself across his marrow, down into his very soul. "Well, that's also not too bad…"

Slowly, she pulled out a mirror and stared at the lack of the image of herself. "Shall we see how far the Shadow of the Abyss will fall?" she giggled, sliding an eye towards Altair Blackwood.

***

On the day Altair returned to the bailey to stand before the infernal cube, the grass beneath his feet withered beneath the baleful evil writhing across his body. Above his forehead, four black stars of shadow and death hovered, much like a crown.

Blood soaked his naked body as he looked up at the azure skies, stained red. Abruptly, a bolt of lightning split the skies overhead. The walls of the castle shook as the world appeared to writhe in agony, collapsing into itself. The winds howled as women shrieked beneath the collapse.

Rain drowned the upheaval as men flooded the bailey, their eyes not on Altair but on the blackness of the Void above their heads. As if some unseen god sought to bring about the end of days, the world wept. Animals cried, howling to the skies as if to warn them of what was to come.

Transcendents rose towards the skies, taken back by the world, even spreading past Inka from north to south, to east to west, to swallow mountains and ravines alike. As far as their eyes could take them, they saw a world beneath the black, where shadow reigned and mortals knelt.

Fear. Fear was all anyone could feel before such a Tribulation.

Abruptly wild laughter stole the hearts of mortal minds as their eyes lay poised on Altair. Some, be they men or women, felt their hearts stolen, their souls branded by the effect of the Brand of the Incubus.

Thunder crackled like the breaking of the world, toppling large spires and abodes, breathing the essence of annihilation.

Medusa shook, reminded of the Shattering that left the Twelve Realms in utter ruin. She held onto Atelia, taking her into her arms. She looked at his Forsaken, slowly making their way towards their master. For a single instance, she sought to follow after them but shook her head, tightening her hold around Atelia. She had a duty to protect this little girl.

"Big Sis? Papa is…"

"I know," she muttered, staring not at Altair but at the tarnished blight of Madness on his soul that managed to further latch onto his being. "I merely hope he can retain his person…"

"He's scary…" Atelia muttered. She glanced at the serving girls kneeling in his presence instead of running and wondered if that would be her if Medusa hadn't aided her. The thought sent a shiver down into her soul.

"He just needs time to adjust," Medusa hoped, pulling her gaze away from Altair to find Tasha. She pushed out her senses to find her sprawled across the shattered bed and fully nude. She blushed, a little unsure why she was stained in blood, but she appeared unharmed, though notably unconscious.

'Beast…' she thought, taken away when another roar of the breaking of th world crackled across the realm.

The transcendents had all reacted swiftly, some activating the barrier commonly used against beast raids or the event of an invasion. Some created their own to defend the city while a majority drew their weapons, unveiling their Transcendent might as if to challenge the Heavens.

The King of the Vale reacted as well, channeling Mana into the Infernal Cube. Strangely, the cube transitioned into a translucent sphere, swallowing him and his Forsaken to reveal seven runes that had brandished themselves across the bailey.

No one saw when the lightning came, when it arrived, or when it shattered the night; they saw only a jagged trident of sprawling tangles devouring the world to bring forth utter annihilation and ruin, imploded, piercing dozens of barriers to strike at the Mad King, crackling as if the ruin around him did not exist.