"We have fought a long battle, one that has stretched from antiquity to the present. It can even be traced back to the first days of the Tanar'ri Demons... Few battles in the history of the multiverse have lasted so long."
"I joined this battle only near its end, a junior among you. I am honored to have taken part in this glorious and great struggle, and honored that you have chosen me to address you before its final showdown."
In the distant square, a Paladin who seemed to have regained his youthful vigor called out to the assembled warriors.
Pan Long sat at the edge of the square. His gaze, however, rested on a nearby peak.
In present-day Andralina, this was the only place that still preserved the Abyss's "natural state" on a large scale: twisted mountainsides, jagged rocks sharp as blades, gray mist spread across every slope, and ghostly figures flickering within it...
It was like an ugly scar stuck fast to Andralina's green hills and clear waters.
It was also like a nail, pinning this land that no longer belonged in the Abyss firmly within it.
At a glance, there was no sign of demons on the slopes.
The Demon Mother had never welcomed her "descendants" onto Mother Mountain. Unless she summoned them, demons who climbed it uninvited often met with misfortune.
Most commonly, their bodies began to deform. Demons were already misshapen to the last one, but none wanted to grow more deformed. Everyone knew that turning enemies into conspicuously lopsided "deformed demons" was a common punishment high-ranking demons inflicted on foes and subordinates alike.
For a demon, becoming a deformed demon was worse than death. Death ended everything; even starting over as an Abyss Worm left some sliver of hope.
But becoming a deformed demon