Episode-915
Chapter : 1829
One day later.
To enter the heart of the Devil Realm, you need more than just a sharp sword or a brave heart. You need a key, and you need permission. For Lloyd Ferrum, that permission came from an unlikely source: King Liam of the Riverio Kingdom. Or, as Lloyd now knew him, James Khan—the legendary "Joker" from Earth’s colonial wars.
James Khan was a man who played a long game. While the rest of the world was busy fighting skirmishes with goblins and low-level beasts, James had been building backdoors into every major power structure on the planet, including the Abyss. He had spent decades creating a network of spies and informants. He had facilitated Lloyd’s entry, arranging a high-level diplomatic meeting with one of the few high-ranking demons who wasn't currently trying to invade the surface world.
Lloyd and Ben stood before the shimmering, distorted veil known as the "Gate of Despair." It was a tear in the fabric of reality that separated the human world from the Abyss. The air around it vibrated with a low, sickening hum that made teeth ache.
Lloyd was encased in his masterpiece, the Aegis Suit. The matte-black armor hummed softly, its internal environment control system keeping him cool despite the oppressive humidity of the borderlands. Inside his helmet, the Heads-Up Display (HUD) was running a thousand calculations a second. He checked his mana reserves, his oxygen levels, and the integrity of the Golem Heart beating in his chest.
"Sensors are green," Lloyd said, his voice sounding calm and mechanical through the suit’s external speakers. "Are you ready to drop, Lord Ironwood?"
Ben stood beside him, looking like a fortress of iron and determination. His heavy armor was battered from years of service but reinforced with the strongest enchantments money could buy. His prosthetic limbs, which he had forged himself using a brute-force application of the Steel Blood—a technique he had stolen and mastered through sheer arrogance and rage—were heavy, jagged, and unpolished. They didn't hum with polite magic; they radiated a low, gravitational pressure that warped the air around him.
Ben didn't look nervous. He looked bored. He picked a speck of dust off his heavy lance and scowled at the swirling vortex.
"I’ve been ready for ten minutes, Lloyd," Ben scoffed, his voice dripping with the cynical edge of his past life. "You spend too much time checking your dials. It’s a hole in space-time. We jump in, we hit the ground, we kill anyone who looks at us wrong. It’s not rocket science; it’s an insertion protocol."
"The local priests say this place is a furnace," Lloyd noted, reading a file on his HUD. "They say the ground is made of flesh and the sky rains blood. They say one step inside burns the soul out of your body."
"Priests say a lot of things to keep the collection plates full," Ben retorted, adjusting the density of his steel arm. "My atmospheric analysis suggests high sulfur content and mana toxicity, not theological damnation. It’s just hostile terrain, General. We’ve fought in worse mudholes on Earth. Stop stalling."
"I'm just appreciating the view," Lloyd deadpanned. "Let's go see the truth."
They stepped through the veil.
The transition was instant and disorienting. It felt like walking through a waterfall of ice-cold oil. For a second, gravity seemed to vanish, and then it slammed back into place with crushing force. Lloyd’s stomach lurched, but the Aegis Suit’s stabilizers kicked in, keeping him upright.
Beside him, Ben didn't stumble. He activated his Spirit: Sloth. A subtle, grey aura of absolute stasis surrounded him, freezing his momentum relative to the chaotic dimensional shear. He hit the ground with a heavy, controlled thud, cracking the pavement beneath his boots, immovable as a mountain.
Lloyd braced himself, expecting to step out into a nightmare. He expected to see lakes of fire, mountains of bleached bones, and endless hordes of screaming monsters charging at them. He expected chaos. He expected noise.
What he found was silence.
As their vision cleared, Lloyd and Ben found themselves standing on a paved road. It wasn't made of bones or flesh; it was made of dark, polished cobblestones, fitted together with the precision of a master mason. The road stretched out before them, wide and clean.
The sky above was not raining blood. It was a permanent, bruising shade of twilight purple, covered in thick, slow-moving clouds that glowed with a faint luminescence. There was no sun, but the ambient light was enough to see clearly.
They were not in a wasteland. They were in a city.
Chapter : 1830
"Gothic architecture," Ben muttered, his single eye scanning the skyline with cold, military precision. "Flying buttresses. Spired roofing. Grid layout. This isn't a monster den, Lloyd. It’s a garrison city."
"Structured," Lloyd agreed, his blue eyes scanning the architecture through his visor.
The buildings rising around them were magnificent. They were constructed from dark obsidian and grey stone, towering high into the purple sky. But it was surprisingly clean. There were no piles of corpses in the gutters. There was no rubble. The streets were swept.
They began to walk deeper into the city. There were demons everywhere, but they weren't attacking. They were simply walking.
To their left, a marketplace was in full swing. Lloyd saw a demon with four arms and red skin haggling with a vendor over a crate of glowing blue jars. They weren't screaming or fighting. They were discussing prices in low, hushed tones. Further down the street, a group of smaller demons in leather armor were patrolling in a disciplined formation, their boots clicking rhythmically on the stones.
"Supply chains," Ben noted, pointing his lance at a caravan of beetles carrying crates. "Look at the load distribution. That’s standardized cargo. They have a logistics network."
"Organization is efficient," Lloyd replied, his mind racing as he analyzed the scene. "And efficiency is terrifying."
"A demon with a club is a nuisance," Ben growled, his voice low and dangerous. "A demon with a spreadsheet and a quartermaster? That is an army. That means they can sustain a campaign. They aren't savages; they're soldiers."
They moved through the streets, guided by the magical map James Khan had provided. As they walked, Lloyd began to notice the details that made this place truly alien. While it looked like a city, it didn't feel like one.
The atmosphere was heavy. It wasn't just the air pressure; it was the mana. The air was thick with a magical weight that made every movement feel like walking underwater. It pressed against Lloyd’s armor, testing the seals.
And the demons... they looked wrong.
Ben stopped, watching a four-armed guard leaning against a wall. "Look at their motor functions," Ben said, analyzing the enemy like a field commander. "Sluggish. Delayed reaction times. Their muscle mass is high, but their energy output is practically zero."
"They look drained," Lloyd noted, recording the data. "Like a battery that’s on its last bar. There is no aggression here. Just... existence."
"It's not just the region," Ben said, tapping his temple. "Sloth means stillness, not exhaustion. These things don't look relaxed, Lloyd. They look harvested. Something is bleeding them dry."
Ben pointed his heavy, steel-plated finger toward a building on the corner. Running along the side of the ancient stone wall was a thick, silver pipe. It looked brand new. It hummed with a low vibration, and it disappeared into the ground.
"Identify that alloy," Ben commanded, not asking. "That isn't demonic metallurgy. That’s high-tensile conduits. I saw similar piping in the orbital refineries back home."
"It's Firefly tech," Lloyd confirmed, his voice grim. "It's sucking something out of the ground."
"They aren't just visiting the Abyss," Ben spat, disgust evident in his voice. "They are strip-mining it. They are sucking the realm dry."
They reached the center of the city, where a massive structure dominated the skyline. It was the Palace of Stillness. It was a breathtaking building, carved from a single mountain of black crystal. It didn't look built; it looked like it had grown out of the earth. It sat in the middle of a massive plaza, silent and imposing.
The gates were open. There were no guards stopping them. In fact, the guards at the gate—massive demons with horns like a bull—were sitting on the ground, leaning against their spears, half-asleep. Their heads lolled on their chests. They barely glanced at Lloyd and Ben as they walked past.
"Sloppy," Ben sneered, looking at the sleeping guards with professional disdain. "If these were my men, I’d have them flogged. Is this a trap, or are they just begging to be invaded?"
"If it is a trap, it's the laziest one I've ever seen," Lloyd said. "Keep moving. The Prince is expecting us."
"I don't like it," Ben muttered, his Steel Blood causing the metal of his arm to densify, ready for impact. "It's too quiet. I prefer enemies that scream when they charge. It makes them easier to count."
They walked past the sleeping guards and entered the grand hallway of the palace. The darkness swallowed them whole.