The Smiling Death-Chapter 285: Inside The Abyss

The echoes of Amon’s scream slowly faded into the depths of the abyss.

Silence returned to the hollow once more.

Renard lowered his arm, the remnants of fire mana dispersing into the air, and walked toward Vaelrix. His boots crunched lightly against the fractured ground as he stopped beside him.

Vaelrix stood where he was, unmoving.

There was no wound on his body. No burn marks. Not even a tear in his clothes. The smoke from the explosion drifted past him as if it dared not touch him.

The grenade had detonated point-blank, yet it had failed to leave even the smallest trace. To someone as strong as Vaelrix, it had been meaningless.

Renard glanced at him, then let out a low whistle. "That human was insane," he said calmly. "Despite being weak, he had no fear. Not of us. Not of death. Even at the last moment, he tried to harm you rather than trying to survive."

Vaelrix’s crimson eyes remained fixed on the massive hole before them. "Insane," he agreed. "But stupid. He really thought that grenade could harm me."

The abyss beneath them seemed endless. Darkness swallowed everything, and no sound came from below. No impact. No echo of a body hitting the ground.

Renard crossed his arms. "Do you think he survived?"

Vaelrix was silent for a moment. Then he shook his head slightly. "No Mana Initiate survives a fall like that. Even if he lived for a few seconds, the abyss would finish the job. I dont think the bittom would be a nice place."

Renard nodded. "A shame. He was interesting."

Vaelrix said nothing, but his gaze lingered on the darkness far longer than necessary. For a brief moment, something unreadable flickered in his eyes.

Then he turned away.

"Our objective comes first," he said coldly. "We’ve wasted enough time."

Renard followed his gaze as Vaelrix scanned the hollow. That was when he noticed it.

Along the inner wall of the Celestial Tree, partially hidden by roots and shadows, a narrow path clung to the surface. It spiraled upward, carved directly into the ancient wooden wall inside the tree, barely wide enough for one person to walk comfortably. One small mistake, and they would fall into the hole.

Renard’s eyes narrowed. "There," he said. "A path."

Vaelrix looked at it and nodded. "That must be the passage leading upward."

It was on the right side of the tunnel that led outside.

The path was thin and uneven, hugging the wall of the tree as it climbed higher and higher, disappearing into darkness above. One wrong step would mean falling straight into the abyss below.

Renard smirked faintly. "Crude path. But it’ll do."

Thump...

Thump...

Thump...

Both of them could hear the faint beating of a heart. The sound was very low, but that didn’t mean the two of them couldn’t hear it.

"Can you hear it?" Vaelrix asked in a serious tone. His grip on his sword tightened. The faint sound of the heartbeat made him shiver.

"Yes, I can. And it gives me chills." Renard was not much different from Vaelrix.

With a little hesitation, Vaelrix stepped toward it. His movements were calm and confident, though a small part of him was nervous. Renard followed close behind.

The two demon commanders stepped onto the narrow path.

Their footsteps echoed softly as they began walking along the wall of the Celestial Tree, moving upward toward whatever awaited them above. Leaving the abyss, the smoke, and the fallen human behind.

---

Meanwhile, where Amon had fallen.

Everything was dark. It was so pitch black that calling it an abyss was fitting. In this empty darkness, Amon was falling. He looked up. There was nothing but darkness.

He felt like he was falling into something that had no end. It was as if this place was an empty space, without any light.

And here, Amon was all alone. Falling into something unknown. Something very dangerous.

Amon’s body was falling horizontally, with his front facing upward. His mind... it was clear.

"Is this the end?" Amon muttered as he felt the air pressure against his body while falling.

Amon put his sword back into his storage ring. It was useless at this point, but he did it out of habit, to store his things once their use was complete.

Honestly, Amon felt no fear at the thought of dying. As if death was not something he hated. He didn’t know why he was thinking like this or feeling this way. Death felt more familiar than ever.

Though one thing he was sure of. He felt more sadness over not being able to kill those two.

Amon closed his eyes. There was no point in looking at nothing. Everything was dark. It was the same as closing his eyes.

’It was such a short life.’

Suddenly, memories of this life started to flood in. How he was born. How surprised he was at that moment.

He remembered his parents. His father and mother in this life. Both of them were kind. They were good parents, just like in his past world.

Then he remembered feeling a little disappointed knowing he couldn’t learn magic from a young age. He needed to reach a certain age to learn it. After that, he enjoyed his childhood like any normal kid in his village, with his friends.

For twelve years since being reborn into this world, he lived happily. Then suddenly, everything changed.

His parents died in an attack made by demons. He somehow ran away from the village, and– he was not able to think for long.

Afterall his poor luck didn’t let him recall his past life for long.

Amon frowned. He felt uncomfortable.

Suddenly, Amon’s breathing became heavy. He felt like he had entered something more vile. More dangerous.

"Hah... hah... what... hah—" He tried to breathe, but it was too suffocating here.

He couldn’t see it, but he felt like he had entered something dangerous. Something ancient.

Everything was dark and black. There was no light. So Amon was unable to see that he had entered something that looked like black smoke or clouds. They were pitch black, like darkness itself.

With each inhale, the dark, smoky substance entered his body. But that was not the scariest part.

The dark substance also entered his body through the pores of his skin, where sweat came from.

All the veins in his body slowly started to turn black. At one point, he couldn’t even mutter a word.

Amon felt dazed and helpless. He wanted to see what was happening to his body, but he couldn’t.

’What’s happening to me?’ Amon thought gravely. Amon continued to fall. And at one point.

SPLASH!

His body struck something with force, sending heavy ripples outward. He wanted to scream from the pain that shot through his body due to the heavy impact, but he couldn’t even scream.

What he hit felt like cold liquid. But it wasn’t water. The impact felt wrong. It was something other than water.

The liquid was thick, far thicker than water. It clung to his body instantly, dragging him down instead of letting him float. It felt heavy, sticky, viscous... like falling into molten darkness.

A vast lake of pitch-black liquid stretched endlessly beneath him. A tar-like substance, which seemed like it was alive.

His body sank violently into it, the surface swallowing him whole as waves of dark liquid surged upward. The sound of the impact echoed once... then vanished, as if even sound was devoured here.

Amon thrashed instinctively.

The black liquid rushed into his mouth and nose, forcing itself down his throat. It burned, not with heat, but with an alien cold that stabbed deep into his chest.

His eyes flew open in panic. But all he saw was black. He could not see a thing.

The liquid flooded his vision. His sclera darkened instantly, veins spreading like cracks across glass. Black crept outward, swallowing the white of his eyes entirely.

His lungs screamed. He tried to breathe. More of the black liquid poured in. It wasn’t just entering through his mouth and nose. It seeped into him.

Through his skin. Through every pore.

It was in liquid form, but it was not something like shadow.

The unknown thing seemed to exist everywhere at the bottom. In air, in lake, on wooden walls. It was everywhere. As if that was pure darkness itself present.