Chapter 107 – The Birth of the Abyssal Guardian

  The Abyssal Fortress stood as a monument to an unknown power, an entity beyond the comprehension of mortal beings. Its obsidian walls pulsed like the heart of an ancient beast, whispering with an eerie energy that made even the strongest mages hesitate to approach.

  Hovering in the air above the fortress, Eo observed his creation with a detached gaze. The first step was complete. But his work was far from over.

  Eo extended his hand, and from the very essence of the abyss, he began shaping a storage vessel unlike any other. Its structure was not of ordinary steel but a material that transcended known metallurgy, infused with the essence of False Faith and Bloodlust, tempered by gravity itself. A single strike from an Archmage would not so much as dent its surface.

  Once formed, he lowered the artifact into the heart of the fortress, embedding it within the main chamber. But a simple storage jar would not suffice. Eo carved intricate vein-like formations into the entire fortress, allowing the vessel to act as the core, siphoning and circulating the gathered power throughout the structure. From a distance, these interwoven veins gave the impression of an organic circulatory system, pulsating with a dark, otherworldly rhythm.

  Without pause, Eo floated higher into the air, his masked face tilted toward the sky. As though responding to his will, the heavens themselves began to tremble.

  Dark clouds churned violently above, their depths illuminated by flashes of deep violet lightning. A low, guttural roar echoed across the land as tornadoes spiraled into existence, their chaotic winds howling in protest. It was as if the world itself recoiled in fear.

  Suspended in the storm’s epicenter, Eo pressed his humanoid hands together, his fingers interlocking with eerie precision. Between his palms, a single point of light flickered to life, barely visible at first—but soon, its radiance intensified.

  The air shuddered. Space itself warped around the growing mass of energy.

  A sphere of unimaginable density took shape, absorbing every particle of magic in its vicinity. A swirling, multi-hued core of power— fire, water, gravity, bloodlust, and false faith—merged together in a seamless dance of destruction. This was not a simple fusion; it was the next step in Eo’s evolution.

  For the first time, he had successfully combined four elements. But now, he sought to command five.

  The sphere pulsed violently, radiating a force so dense that reality itself seemed on the verge of collapse. The sheer magnitude of condensed energy made even the abyssal fortress tremble under its weight.

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  Had any lesser being attempted such a feat, their very existence would have been obliterated in an instant.

  And yet—Eo remained unmoved.

  Then—

  He succeeded.

  Without a single tremor of emotion, Eo extended his arm and directed the apocalyptic force downward. The abyssal storage vessel absorbed the energy greedily, like a bottomless chasm devouring the light of existence.

  The vein-like formations that interconnected the fortress ignited at once, blazing with a dark luminance that defied logic. What had once been an eerie, dormant structure now pulsed as if alive. The fortress inhaled, and the air itself recoiled.

  At its pinnacle, something stirred.

  A colossal eye began to form. Not an ordinary eye, but an entity crafted through a masterful blend of illusion, essence, and abyssal will. Its golden-red iris burned with an intensity that rivaled the sun, yet its sclera pulsed like a living organ. It bore no consciousness, no soul—but it saw.

  And it judged.

  Caelum, Frid, Yeba, and Vienna had been watching from afar, their breath shallow, their nerves taut.

  Then it happened.

  The eye moved.

  It turned its gaze upon them—unrestrained, unmerciful.

  Unlike Eo’s controlled, calculating presence, this was raw oppression incarnate. A weight that surpassed even the pressure of the battlefield they had fought upon.

  Frid’s knees buckled. His body refused to move, as though a fundamental law of the universe had shifted to deny his existence. Caelum, despite his pride, clenched his fists, his breathing erratic. Yeba’s usually poised demeanor fractured—her lips parted slightly as if struggling for air, while Vienna paled to the shade of a corpse.

  They understood.

  This was not just a fortress.

  This was a dominion. A place ruled by a force so detached from mortality that to resist its will was an exercise in futility.

  Then, as suddenly as it came—the eye turned away.

  As the oppressive weight lifted, all four fell to their knees, cold sweat drenching their backs. The sound of ragged breathing filled the silence as they gasped for air, their minds struggling to comprehend what had just transpired.

  Above them, Eo, still suspended in midair, finally spoke. His voice carried neither warmth nor cruelty, only absolute authority.

  “Guard this place. This shall be our stronghold.”

  The abyssal fortress trembled in acknowledgment, the massive eye flickering briefly in response before it resumed its silent watch.

  Satisfied, Eo then turned his masked gaze upon the four Archmages, his focus narrowing on two in particular—Yeba and Vienna. The shadows of Saintess Tasha.

  “Leave.”

  His voice was calm, yet it carried a weight that permitted no argument.

  “Tell your master to cease interfering in my affairs.”

  Yeba’s hands clenched at her sides, anger flashing in her usually composed eyes. Vienna, however, remained silent, her lips pressed together in contemplation. Their instincts screamed at them—this was not a battle they could win.

  Without another word, they exchanged glances.

  Then—they fled.

  Their figures vanished into the darkness, shadows slipping away to deliver the warning to their master.

  As he watched their retreating forms, Eo’s unworldly eye gleamed.

  The first move had been made.

  And soon—the world would tremble beneath his dominion.