This was a mountaintop bathed in the blood-red glow of the setting sun. The Abyssal Lord sat on a massive boulder, gazing into the distance at the eastern part of the Western Continent, shrouded in dense fog.
He wore a black robe, his entire body enveloped in pitch-black mist. Aside from his small frame, no racial traits were visible. Compared to a king ruling the north, he looked more like a secretive wizard hiding his face.
The silent vigil lasted several dozen minutes. As the sun sank a little lower beyond the horizon and dusk deepened, a streak of black light tore across the sky, transforming into an Abyssal Demon clad in extraordinary armor who landed steadily in the open space atop the mountain.
The Abyssal Lord slightly turned his head and said to the Abyssal Demon behind him, "Surian, the one your master has been thinking about may have arrived."
As he spoke, the black mist surrounding the Abyssal Lord dispersed, revealing the delicate face of a human girl. His originally androgynous voice also became somewhat more feminine.
The Abyssal Demon named Surian froze slightly. After thinking for a moment, he shook his head. "My Lord, I—"
"I didn't understand what you meant."
"Your master has only ever talked about one person, hasn't he? Of course, she may not actually be human." The Abyssal Lord, in the form of a young girl, spoke indifferently. "But I have already looked into her for you. She truly is Twelfth Tier. By eastern standards, she could be considered a minor deity."
"You mean... the Silver Witch?"
"Shouldn't you call her your grandmaster? Though she probably still does not know that Surian Sigurd, the Western Continent's First Demon General, is her disciple's disciple." The Abyssal Lord looked at him, the corners of her