Boom—hiss.
A deep, frigid wind from the dark hells carried a thick, scorched reek of sulfur.
The burning heat in the air had yet to disperse, while the fishy stench unique to aquatic creatures surged up from the lingering ripples in the churned mud pool.
A layer of shattered, heavy carapace floated on the surface of the muck like broken glass, its edges faintly marked with blackened scorch marks;
Large patches of fluorescent moss on the cave wall had been burned away. The few weak glimmers it barely gave off illuminated a huge pincer slanting into the ground by the wall like a tombstone.
Abi stood rooted to the spot.
A dazed blankness still lingered deep in his eyes.
It was as if the surging power inside him had ebbed away like the tide, leaving only faint streams of flame behind. The dark-red fire from the Nine Hells quickly dissipated across his skin.
He instinctively reached out and grasped at the empty air before him.
As though he wanted to hold on to this power that was rapidly fading, power that did not belong to him.
But it was futile.
After the battle ended, only a few breaths passed.
And he went from a mighty being who could "run rampant" in the Underdark, easily torment Professionals, and treat the dangers of Thin Mist Forest as nothing—
Back once more into the lowest, most pathetic bottom-feeder Adventurer, the kind no one listened to even when he bragged in a tavern, the kind who would finally win a little money at a casino only to have it snatched away.
Abi said nothing.
But the indescribable reluctance, the gulf, and his yearning for power had already filled his heart to the brim with every coil of Purgatory dark flame.
The dangerous Monster that