Abyss System The Rise of the Lord-Chapter 97 unexpected turn

Night slowly descended upon the city. Inside the old wooden walls of the inn, the wind sighed gently, and the floorboards creaked as if reminding everyone that time was passing.

The room was half-shrouded in darkness.

Zaber sat on the edge of the bed. Limir rested in his arms, his gaze fixed on the window — though his thoughts were far from there, drifting somewhere distant.

The blue kitten lay quietly in his lap, occasionally emitting a soft purr. That sound gradually eased the tension in Zaber’s shoulders and the sharpness of his breathing, strangely calming his mind.

"What a strange day it’s been..." he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible.

The kitten’s ears twitched slightly. Without realizing it, Zaber placed his hand on her head and stroked gently. The motion was not careful — it was simple, natural. As though it was meant to be this way.

Limir remained silent.

Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t sleeping. She felt every movement Zaber made, every breath he took. His hand — warm, heavy, reliable.

Instinct stirred inside her.

Safe...

The word echoed clearly in Limir’s mind. She tried to deny it, but her body couldn’t lie.

Zaber, meanwhile, was thinking of something else.

The old man’s eyes.

"He’s no ordinary person..." Zaber whispered, his voice so low only he could hear it.

The kitten didn’t move.

Zaber stood up and walked to the window. Below, the city’s lights flickered dimly. Voices of adventurers, distant laughter, the faint clink of iron armor — life continued.

"If I want to succeed, I need a master..." he said quietly. "That old man wants something from me. Interesting... could he be a master? I need to find out what he knows," he added, staring out the window.

At that very moment, silence also reigned elsewhere.

In the hut near the cemetery, the old man was still sitting in the same spot. The blood on his hand had long since dried, yet he continued to stare at his palm.

The darkening drops of blood.

"Not a pure high dragon..." he whispered, his voice melting into the wind. "A specimen of mixed blood, it seems."

He lifted the corner of his lips.

"Ancient blood mixed in..."

A dry, soundless laugh filled the hut.

The container sat beside him. The bees had been placed back inside, silent.

The old man closed his eyes.

"The Spirit Chain... and my old sword is inside it," he said to the empty air.

He took a slow breath.

"In this state... he will die very quickly. Far too quickly."

Back at the inn, Zaber had returned to the bed. The kitten was still curled in his lap.

"I’ll leave tomorrow," he said casually. "Staying here isn’t good."

He looked down at the kitten.

"And you? Will you follow me?"

Limir opened her eyes. Her golden gaze pierced Zaber for a single instant — very brief, very deep.

Then she closed her eyes again.

"Mnya..." she meowed softly.

Zaber chuckled.

"That’s what you say, of course."

That sound wasn’t agreement.

It was a decision.

Zaber pulled the blanket over himself. He closed his eyes. Today had been far too heavy for him — battles, confusing events, incomprehensible people.

A short while later, he fell into deep sleep.

Limir lay beside him, eyes closed but not sleeping.

In the next moment, there was a knock at the door.

"I brought food, sir," a voice called.

Limir opened her eyes. In one leap she jumped off the bed.

The next instant she walked toward the door.

Her body was enveloped in blue shadow. Her height began to stretch. Her form expanded, the cat shape shattering like glass.

In a few seconds she returned to her beastkin form — her true appearance.

The door opened.

The inn worker froze upon seeing Limir.

"Y-you... who are you?" he stammered in shock.

Limir glanced at the tray.

"Bring us meat. Dried and grilled. More of it," she said coldly.

"Y-yes... right away, ma’am," the worker replied, flustered, and hurried off with the tray.

Half an hour later he returned.

On the tray were two bowls — one with dried meat, the other with grilled. Beside them, water and a little bread.

Limir took the tray.

"Good. You may go."

The worker bowed.

"Enjoy your meal," he said quickly and hurried downstairs.

Limir placed the tray on the table and began eating the grilled meat. Her movements were calm, but hunger was evident.

Zaber continued to sleep without stirring.

After finishing her meal, Limir returned to the bed.

She stared at Zaber.

"You’re not vigilant..." she whispered.

Her finger gently touched his face.

"I think you’re better than the princess. But still... you can’t afford to be this relaxed," she said, narrowing her eyes slightly.

In the next moment her body began to shrink again.

In an instant she returned to her blue cat form.

She curled up beside Zaber.

And closed her eyes.

The sun rose, slowly pulling back the curtain of night over the city. The faint light of dawn slipped through the inn window, casting long shadows across the wooden floor.

Zaber slowly opened his eyes. For a moment he lay still, listening to the surroundings. Then he sat up carefully.

Beside him on the bed, Limir was curled up, sleeping peacefully. Her breathing was even, her ears twitching from time to time.

Zaber rose without making a sound and walked to the table.

There was dried meat.

Zaber froze for a second.

"Food...? But I was asleep... Where did this come from?" he whispered.

He sat at the table and began eating. He deliberately set aside a few pieces — for Limir. He drank some water and took a deep breath.

At that moment the bees came to mind.

He checked his inner pocket.

Gone.

Zaber’s brows furrowed.

"Where did they go? Did they fall out...? But where?" he thought.

He stood up, slung his sword over his back, carefully lifted Limir into his arms, and left the room.

Limir opened one eye for a moment, recognized Zaber, and pretended to sleep again.

Zaber went downstairs and stepped out of the inn.

"I need to go to the old man. I need to know who he is. After that... I’ll decide whether to become his disciple or not," he said to himself.

After walking for several hours, he reached the cemetery.

The surroundings were silent. The gravestones looked cold under the morning breeze. Zaber walked slowly between the graves until he reached the hut.

He knocked on the door.

Silence.

He knocked again.

No answer.

Then he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The old man was sleeping in his chair, rocking gently. In his hand was that same round, flat container.

Zaber looked at the container and thought to himself:

"The bees are here..."

As he reached out, a strange pressure filled the air. It felt as though an invisible wave had swept through the entire hut.

"Why did you come?" the old man asked without opening his eyes.

Zaber withdrew his hand and looked at him seriously.

"I came for my bees."

The old man rocked slowly in his chair.

"Answer my question and you can take them."

Zaber paused for a moment.

"Fine. Just don’t ask anything I don’t know."

The old man’s voice grew colder.

"Who are you? Who stands behind you?"

Zaber was surprised.

"My name is Zaber. I have no family. No one stands behind me."

The old man fell silent for a while.

"What is your goal?"

Zaber didn’t hesitate.

"To become strong. To build a clan. And then — revenge."

The old man made a low "hmm" and opened his eyes. His gaze was sharp.

"Where did you get the Spirit Chain, boy?"

Zaber’s eyes widened. He clenched his fists.

"How do you know...?"

The old man stopped rocking.

"Answer."

Zaber’s voice carried a hint of unease.

"This... this is my inheritance. From my father."

The old man suddenly stood up.

"Who was your father? How could he pass something like this as inheritance? Was he insane?!"

Zaber stared straight into the old man’s eyes.

"Who my father was doesn’t matter. Right now he’s somewhere... in a grave."

The old man grabbed Zaber by the shoulders.

"Listen well, boy. If your father gave this to you, it means he wanted you to die. Or he was completely mad."

Zaber looked at him doubtfully.

"Why do you say that?"

The old man’s eyes flashed.

"The Spirit Chain is called the ’Soul Chain.’ It has severe negative consequences. Moreover, if any powerful figure learns you possess it... not just this city, but the entire kingdom would sacrifice everything to destroy you. Hunters would come for your head in countless numbers at every step."

Zaber took a step back. He drew a deep breath. Trying to suppress the anxiety rising inside him, he said calmly:

"Then teach me. Be my master."

The old man stroked his beard.

This boy didn’t lose his composure even after hearing all that... Moreover, he’s thinking of using me, he thought.

He sat back in his chair and began rocking again.

"There’s no benefit for me in teaching you, boy. If you want it so badly — try to convince me."

Zaber took out the two pouches from his belt and offered them to the old man.

"This is money. Enough to buy a house here, hire servants, and live comfortably. I’ll pay more later."

The old man closed his eyes and rocked indifferently.

"Boy, do you think I’ve never seen money? I’ve refused offers a hundred times greater than this."

Zaber drew his sword.

"Then what about this sword? Its edge is extremely sharp. And it’s not an ordinary blade."

The old man smiled faintly.

"Don’t shove trash swords at me. With the money you offered, one could buy five or six of these."

Zaber scratched his head. His thoughts tangled.

Right now, the only thing that matters is making this old man my master. I can’t think about anything else — maybe then I’ll find a way. I have a goal, but I don’t know how to achieve it. I’m just wandering aimlessly... he whispered to himself.

Friends, what do you think? Please share your thoughts in the comments. Don’t forget to add this novel to your library. Power Stones and Golden Tickets help Chapters come out faster and give me great motivation