Abyss System The Rise of the Lord-Chapter 100 after the test

When Zaber tried to follow Larden, he began to feel something strange.

It was not heaviness in the body. His breathing was normal, his heart beat steadily, his arms and legs were intact. Yet inside, at the center of his chest, something had shifted—as though an unfamiliar weight had settled there, one that had never existed before.

He slowly turned his head. The sky was dim, colorless. The wind was not cold, yet it irritated his skin. When his body moved, there was no sharp pain—only a peculiar sense of adaptation.

"What is this..." he rasped.

His own voice sounded foreign to him.

Beside him came a soft movement. Something gentle touched his hand.

The kitten rubbed her head against his wrist and meowed quietly. Then she climbed onto his chest and lay exactly over the spot where the Spirit Chain rested. Warm, alive, ordinary.

Zaber took a deep breath.

"So... this is not heaviness."

He slowly sat up. His body obeyed instantly. Far too quickly. Before, it had never been this light. His muscles were relaxed, yet not weak—as though his body had already adjusted itself to something.

At that moment, a few steps away, the old man stood on the edge of a cliff, visible.

He stood with his hands behind his back. The wind gently stirred his beard. Right now he looked neither kind nor terrifying—just a man who knew things.

"If I had been five breaths later," Larden said without turning, "I would not have pulled you out."

Zaber’s eyes narrowed. He approached Larden.

"Why?"

"Because then the choice would no longer have been mine."

Zaber fell silent. A few moments passed.

"Did I defeat it?" he asked at last. "The thing in the pool."

Larden did not laugh. But he did not answer immediately either.

"If you had defeated something," he said slowly, "you would feel stronger right now."

Zaber listened to his body once more.

No.

There was no explosion inside, no flood, no surge of power. Only... calm, and that same weight.

"No. I defeated myself."

Larden turned. His eyes were as cold as before.

"Do you know the saying? The weak try to flee. The strong endure like stone. Kings try to oppose. You are the third kind."

Zaber clenched his teeth.

"I don’t like being deceived, old man."

"No," Larden said firmly. "It was not a lie. But this pool does not grant power." 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

He took one step closer.

"It chooses."

Zaber raised his head.

"How?"

Larden crouched on the ground. His gaze fixed on Zaber’s chest—on the exact spot where the Spirit Chain rested.

"The Pool of Spiritual Punishment," he said. "It strikes you with your strongest desire. Some see power. Some see authority. Some see revenge. Some see salvation."

"And me?"

Larden smiled faintly. This smile was not pleasant.

"You saw possession."

Zaber fell silent.

"Most try to endure," Larden continued. "They flee. They close themselves off. You... attacked."

"Because I had no other choice."

"No," Larden shook his head. "Because you chose."

He stood up.

"That is why you are still alive."

Zaber looked down. Limir had fallen asleep, her paws clinging to his clothes.

"So... am I your disciple now?"

Larden remained silent for a moment.

"Not yet."

Zaber’s eyes flashed.

"What?"

"For now... you have only passed the test."

"Then what happens next?"

Larden looked far away, beyond the gorge. There was nothing visible—only faint mist.

"Now," he said slowly, "the world will sense you."

Zaber’s heart skipped a beat.

"What world?"

"This place," Larden pointed at the rock beneath their feet, "is not the main world."

"I know. We came very far."

"No," Larden lowered his voice. "This is a small world. It belongs to demons."

Zaber froze.

"Demons?"

"They do not rule here," Larden said. "But this place bears their touch. It is severed from the main world. Its rules are different. Time, distance, power—everything."

"Then why did you bring me here?"

Larden looked straight at him.

"Because dying here is cheap. Surviving... is meaningful."

Zaber gave a cold smile.

"Wonderful master you are."

"I am not yet your master," Larden repeated. "But I will be."

He took one step forward.

"If you survive."

At that moment, something stirred in Zaber’s chest.

It hurt—strangely.

Like a distant, barely perceptible, yet unmistakable signal.

Zaber’s breath caught.

"What was that...?"

Larden’s face grew serious.

"So," he said slowly, "we were not too late."

"What are you talking about?"

Larden looked up at the sky. His eyes narrowed in the dim light.

"The pool has sent word. And now... something else is watching you."

"Who?"

A moment of silence.

"For now," Larden said, "know only this: you are no longer an ordinary traveler."

He turned away.

"And one more thing."

Zaber watched him.

"From today onward," Larden said in a cold tone, "you will not seek power."

"Then what will I seek?"

Larden’s voice came low, but clear:

"How to survive."

The wind grew stronger. Limir woke, meowed, and leaped onto Zaber’s shoulder.

Zaber looked into the distance.

He knew this path would not lead back.

Zaber sat in silence for a long time.

He was not moving, yet something inside him was constantly shifting. Since emerging from the pool, time felt strangely delayed—as though his body had already adapted to this place, but his soul still lagged behind.

Limir lay curled on his shoulder. Sometimes her ears twitched, sometimes she meowed softly and fell quiet again. An ordinary kitten. Warm, alive, present, here.

"You are still trembling," Larden said.

Zaber had not noticed, but his hands were indeed quivering slightly.

"Not from cold," he said.

"I know."

"Come. I will take you somewhere."

After walking a short distance among the rocks, they reached a deep gorge.

Larden sat on the edge of the cliff and tossed a small stone downward. The stone fell, but its sound was swallowed by the mist below—as though the gorge had devoured it.

"Your soul is exhausted," Larden said. "Not your body."

Zaber smiled faintly.

"Isn’t it too early to talk about my soul?"

"No," Larden replied calmly. "Now it is too late."

Zaber looked at him.

"You know me, old man."

"Correct."

"Then why me, exactly?"

Larden fell silent for a moment. Then he spoke while looking at the ground.

"Because you do not ask questions."

"I am asking now."

"No," Larden shook his head. "You are seeking answers. Most look for excuses."

Zaber fell silent.

"Most try to justify themselves in the pool," Larden continued. "’I deserve this,’ ’I am chosen,’ ’it should be given to me.’ You... simply moved forward. Those who previously wanted to become my disciple did the same—and perished here."

Zaber spoke in a cold tone:

"Because I have never once felt chosen."

"No," Larden said firmly. "Because you did not spare yourself."

These words struck Zaber heavily. He wanted to defend himself, but found no words.

"What happens now?" he asked at last.

Larden stood up.

"Now you will become no one."

Zaber laughed—short and cold.

"Very inspiring."

"This is the truth," Larden said. "Before, you were prey. Now... you are emptiness."

"What does that mean?"

Larden stepped very close. So close that Zaber saw his own reflection in Larden’s eyes—tired, but unbroken.

"It means," Larden said in a low voice, "that now you must become worthy of power."

Zaber pointed at the Spirit Chain.

"It is moving again."

"Yes."

"Is that dangerous?"

"Always."

Zaber took a deep breath.

"Then why don’t you remove it?"

Larden remained silent for a moment. Then he smiled faintly.

"Because it can become both your grave and your salvation."

"Very convenient choice."

"The world is not convenient," Larden said. "Especially for those like you."

"Like me?"

"Those who do not beg for power. Those who seize it."

Zaber looked down. His hands had slowly steadied.

"The pool did not give me power."

"No."

"But I gained something."

"Yes."

"What?"

Larden did not answer. He turned and looked toward the narrow path leading out of the gorge.

"Come," he said. "It is dangerous to stay here."

"From what?"

"From this world."

They set off down the path.

The path was narrow, the rocks slippery. As Zaber walked, his body automatically found balance. Before, it had never been this effortless. This was not power—it was adaptation.

"Does time pass differently in this small world?" Zaber asked.

"Yes."

"How much?"

"Sometimes one day here is a week outside. Sometimes the opposite."

"Then how long have we been here?"

Larden thought for a moment.

"You were inside the pool... about two hours."

Zaber swallowed.

"And outside?"

"Several days."

Zaber stopped.

"Interesting."

He continued walking.

"You said," he spoke, "that now the world will sense me."

"Yes."

"How?"

Larden stopped. Zaber stopped too.

"Because you are no longer hidden."

"What was I hiding?"

Larden turned.

"Yourself."

This answer displeased Zaber. Yet he could not deny it.

Limir stirred on his shoulder, leaped to the ground, sniffed a stone, then meowed and looked back at Zaber.

"She is hungry," Zaber said.

"Finding food here is difficult," Larden replied. "But that too is a lesson."

"For the kitten?"

"For you."

A few minutes later they reached a small cave carved into the rock. Inside it was not cold, but the air was dry.

"You will spend the night here," Larden said.

"And you?"

"I will be outside."

"Why?"

Larden looked at him.

"Because if you die tonight, I will not interfere."

Zaber smiled coldly.

"You truly are a bastard."

"Show me respect, boy," Larden said.

He turned and left.

Zaber entered the cave. Limir lay beside him. The kitten quickly fell asleep.

Zaber could not sleep.

He closed his eyes.

He saw the pool.

The hand.

The pressure.

And himself.

He had not fled.

He had not endured.

He had opposed.

This was not power.

This was a path.

And this path would never release him now.

Zaber whispered softly:

"What happens now?"

Outside, in the darkness, Larden stood gazing at the sky.

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