The Shadowlands, The Maw.
In the endless darkness, sinful souls were being tortured.
This was the sinners' hell. This was a nightmare of pain.
Just then, a ball of light appeared in that endless darkness.
Though dim and disorienting, it still gave the tormented souls a glimmer of hope. They lunged out from the surrounding darkness.
"Get lost!" Arch-deacon Denathrius, ragged from head to toe, saw the annoying souls rushing out and could not help letting out an angry roar. With a wave of his hand, he unleashed a spell and sent those grotesque souls flying far away again.
"What a foul place. It was the same the last time I came. But the anima is plentiful." After the fierce battle with the Burning Legion, he had finally broken through the demons' blockade and charged into The Maw.
"Old friend, after all these years, how have you been?" He stepped onto the familiar path and, after many twists and turns, arrived before a high platform.
On the platform, a massive figure stood there. In the darkness, chains could be seen stretched taut on both sides of him.
"My friend, Denathrius, why have you come here? Aren't you afraid those women will discover the relationship between us?" The enormous figure opened his glowing eyes, and then his features gradually became clear. He was a huge bald man.
"Zovaal, something beyond imagination has happened outside. Our Shadowlands is being invaded." Denathrius spoke of what had happened recently.
"The Winter Queen of Ardenweald and the Archon of Bastion, Gristia, have already fled. Oribos has fallen. Most of my Revendreth has fallen as well. Now this Maw is our last hope."
"Haha, those two women actually ran away outright. What kind of enemy is it this time, to frighten them so badly?" The enormous