They were indeed Jailers. The closer he got, the more certain he became, for only one kind of being in Hell could retain a rank beyond an origin despite the suppression of that curse. And though he struggled to remain calm, once he truly drew close, even the aura they casually gave off made his heart pound wildly.
And when he finally approached the last row of kneeling beings.
Lynn's eyes suddenly shifted.
For there, at the very back of those prostrate figures, he sensed an aura that was intensely familiar. He looked at the insubstantial figure shrouded in black robes, struggling to kneel on the ground. His weakness seemed utterly out of place among the beings around him.
"Vision Realm Controller..."
He stopped, his pupils trembling, and spoke without betraying anything.
"Is that you?"
The figure visibly shuddered, yet remained prostrate without daring to move, his head lowered, as though some immense authority kept him from answering even a single word.
And at that moment, Lynn finally saw it.
He was wearing shackles.
He was actually still alive. It seemed those Jailers had not killed him. Once again, that enormous eye blotting out the sky in the black mist that day surfaced in Lynn's mind, making this feel all the more absurd. Just what kind of authority could make even him...
Lynn's gaze grew grave.
He tried asking him another question.
But the figure bearing the aura of the Vision Realm knelt there like a statue, his head lowered, offering no further response.
Lynn's heart slowly grew cold.
He narrowed his eyes.
At last, he followed the cobblestone path through the densely packed, prostrate figures, walking step by step toward the Mage Tower at the center.
And the farther he went, the more he felt an indescribable shudder.
Because