Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods-Chapter 33: Into the Abyss

Lena blinked, staring at Bel with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"One more thing?"

"Yes, I can feel..." Bel's voice started firm but then hesitated. He furrowed his brow. "I mean... the guild wouldn't make a mistake like this." He exhaled slowly, correcting himself. "Something down there changed things. It made the goblins more dangerous than they should have been."

His eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the source of that unsettling aura. From his perspective, a thick, invisible miasma oozed from the depths of the cave, something unnatural, something powerful.

His gaze flickered to Lena and Ilya.

"You should leave. There are no more goblins between here and the entrance."

Lena frowned, her lips parting as she processed his words. Her mind had been too overwhelmed to question anything until now. But finally, for the first time, she regained some control over her emotions.

Her breath steadied as she took a step forward.

"What are you planning to do?"

Bel tilted his head, staring at her blankly. Before she even realized what she was saying, her voice rose.

"Who even are you? How did you...?" Her breath hitched. "You took down an entire horde of goblins with your bare hands. You don't even look hurt. What... Are you even an adventurer?"

She barely had time to register what she had said before Bel turned his gaze to her, his golden eyes locking onto hers. Lena flinched as if she had been struck, instinctively stepping back, the words dying on her tongue. A strange pressure settled over her, and she barely murmured.

"Maybe not..."

Bel sighed.

"If you have enough strength to talk, you have enough strength to think, so you should be thinking about how to get out of here."

Then, without waiting for her response, he turned, setting his eyes on the deepest part of the cave. He flexed his fingers. Finally, a good test for his abilities.

Lena hesitated, something twisting uncomfortably in her gut.

"Are... are you planning to take it alone?"

Bel didn't answer. He took another step forward, but Lena wasn't done. She clenched her fists, gathering what little strength she had left.

"We should go back. If there's something worse in there, we need to get backup! That's what adventurers are supposed to do! If this place is more dangerous than expected, then..."

Bel let out a chuckle, cutting her off. He muttered something under his breath, too quiet for her to hear.

Lena paused, suddenly uneasy.

"... What?"

Bel finally turned to face her fully.

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"I lack the experience of an adventurer, so I can understand how you ended up on the same level of quests as me. But at least you can use common sense to cover for that."

Lena opened her mouth, but no words came out. Bel's voice remained calm.

"Here's the thing," he continued, gesturing toward the darkness ahead. "If we leave, that thing has time to build a new army. Stronger defenses. Maybe even run away. If we go back and get help, what happens in the meantime? How many more people get dragged into this?"

He took another step toward her.

"For you, the words 'backup' and 'new victims' should mean the same thing."

Lena gasped softly, her heart beating faster. She hadn't thought of it like that. She hadn't thought of anything past her own fear, past the bodies of her friends, past the horror that had unfolded around her.

But Bel had already considered it.

Without another word, he turned toward the deepest part of the cave and walked into the abyss.

Lena stood frozen, her mind spiraling as Bel vanished deeper into the cave.

She wanted to move. Wanted to say something. Stop him. But her lips wouldn't part, her feet wouldn't budge. A war raged inside her.

Maybe... maybe this is better... she thought. "He's strong... stronger than us. If we leave now, if we just let him handle it..."

A shadow flickered at the edge of her vision.

Lena jerked, her breath hitching.

Ilya.

The elf moved hollowly, her bare, battered feet dragging against the stone. In one hand, she gripped a goblin club, jagged and stained with filth. In the other, a rusted dagger, its chipped edge trembling under her bruised fingers.

Lena's heart stopped.

She's going to attack him!

"Ilya, wait..." she whispered, reaching out, but before her hand could make contact, Ilya roared.

"Quiet!"

The word cut through the air, freezing Lena.

Ilya turned back to the darkness and stepped forward, stopping just beside Bel. She didn't look at him. Her gaze stayed locked on the abyss ahead, her breaths sharp, ragged, but steadying.

"How many left?" she asked, her voice strained.

Bel raised a brow slightly but didn't turn to face her.

"Twenty," he answered simply. "Four aren't demons. Fifteen are insignificant."

His fingers flexed. "One is problematic."

Ilya's shoulders rose and fell with each breath, her grip tightening around the weapons in her hands. The club trembled for just a moment before her fingers locked around it like iron.

"Good."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight of it pressed against Lena's chest.

"I'll kill them."

She took a step forward.

"I'll kill them all."

Bel didn't respond. He only nodded once before stepping into the darkness.

Ilya followed, her broken, beaten body moving with an eerie steadiness, her shadow merging with his as they disappeared beyond the last flicker of light.

Lena stood in the silence, watching them fade. A sinking feeling settled in her gut.

She wasn't sure which side of the abyss they truly belonged to anymore.

Bel and Ilya moved deeper into the cave, their footsteps soundless against the damp stone. The air grew heavier, the walls closing in like a living beast swallowing them whole.

Bel didn't need light to see. He could sense everything, the ridges of the jagged stone, the shifts in air pressure, the dampness clinging to his skin.

The cave was a maze, twisting and branching in ways that would be impossible for a normal person to navigate. But the miasma came from a single place.

As they walked, he noticed something. Ilya had subtly stepped aside before brushing against a large rock, deliberately avoiding it.

"You can see in the dark?" he asked.

Ilya didn't react immediately. Her grip on her stolen weapons tightened slightly, but she didn't spare him a glance.

Bel remained silent for a moment before exhaling softly.

"Fine. Then make sure not to kill the four non-monsters."

Still, no reaction.

"If you can't tell them apart," he continued, "just follow my noise. I'll target the only real threat. We can deal with the others after."

Ilya finally responded, but not with words. Just a quiet, irritated exhale.

"Shut up."

Bel smirked but said nothing more.

The deeper they went, the worse the stench became. Rot, filth, something far more rancid than just death. It coated the air, thick enough to taste, clinging to their lungs like mold. It wasn't just the smell of corpses. It was something more sinister.

Then came the noises.

Guttural grunts. The sound of things shifting, dragging, moving. The faint crackle of fire. The cave wasn't completely dark anymore. There was light flickering ahead, casting sickly, uneven shadows across the walls.

Bel and Ilya reached the edge of an opening, lowering themselves behind a jagged ledge as they took in the scene below.

The heart of the goblins' den.

A massive chamber stretched before them, dug out of the earth like a festering wound. The ground was uneven, covered in a layer of filth, dirt, blood, unidentifiable waste. To the side, a writhing mass of small figures crawled over each other, barely distinguishable in the dim glow.

Baby goblins. Dozens of them. A nest of squirming, screeching creatures, feeding on whatever scraps were tossed their way.

Not far from them, four human women hung suspended from makeshift wooden beams, their bodies limp, heads bowed, wrists bound and raised above their heads. Their skin was bruised, battered, covered in filth and dried blood. Their breath was shallow, their eyes closed.

Another section held remains, humans, animals, whatever the goblins had dragged in over time. Some were fresh, others little more than bones. A pit of rotting flesh, maggots writhing between the remnants of what had once been people.

And in the center of it, the thing.

A goblin, larger than the ones from before, loomed over the chamber like a grotesque king atop its throne of ruin.

Its body was draped in ragged furs, its hunched frame taller, thicker than the others. A goat skull rested over its head, hollow sockets staring out into the dim light.

It held a staff in its clawed grip, twisted and crude, but pulsing with a faint, unnatural glow. Around its body, a faint mist of purple miasma oozed, curling around its limbs like living tendrils.

Bel's eyes narrowed.

This wasn't just a goblin but a true demon.