Falling in Darkness

If Wizards are the eternal enemies of demons, then the Black Prison is the ancient nightmare of demons.

The Black Prison is a prison established by Wizards for demons, originally called the "Wizard Alliance First Prison." This prison is hidden deep within the Silent Forest. Hundreds of demons are imprisoned there every year, but not a single demon has ever emerged alive.

The prison is like a black hole, consuming all information.

Thus, it is feared by demons and called the "Black Prison."

When the Wizards learned of this, they simply changed the prison's name to "Black Prison" to intimidate the demons active in the outside world.

And now, a little creature who came out of the Black Prison was standing in the ship's cabin.

The captain of the Misty leaned his chin on his hand, looking at her with a smile.

She was a little girl, about six or seven years old, with a delicate, doll-like beauty, very cute. Her bright, dark eyes were clear and lively, and she was smiling happily at the tall captain, completely unaware of how terrifying the demon before her was.

"She's from the Black Prison?" The captain tilted his head and glanced at the female demon.

"Yes," Nikita lowered her head.

"They say it's an abyss; how did she climb out?" The captain pinched the little girl's cheek, asking with great interest.

"Her mother was a guard at the Black Prison."

"Why protect her?"

"When I was still a Wizard, her mother was my mentor," Nikita replied quickly. She knew she had to convince the man before her; these words had been brewing in her heart for many days. "She's been eroded by primal demon blood and will transform sooner or later. My mentor knew the consequences of her staying at the academy, so she entrusted me to take her away. I owe my mentor my life, so I must protect her."

"That's ridiculous," the captain of the Misty shook his head.

Nikita knew what he meant.

For a demon, keeping a promise made to its food was indeed a ridiculous thing.

Perhaps, deep down, she still held a shred of unrealistic hope.

"Why not return to the Lich King's territory?" The captain stood up, tossing the white cloak draped over him into the armchair.

"We went back," Nikita replied hoarsely. "But she still hasn't transformed. The old liches want to put her on the testing platform, and the young liches want to eat her. Even my companions are restless around her."

"Why come here?"

"My teacher told me that her only chance of survival was on this ship."

"Did your teacher not tell you the rules for boarding?" The captain's greenish-black lips curled up.

"Rules?" The female demon looked blankly at the captain. "Aren't the captain's words the rules?"

"While I appreciate your flattery, I must tell you that the rules for boarding were established by His Majesty the Sea Demon King," the captain wagged his finger, pointing at the two prey before him, a bloodthirsty smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Everyone who boards must bring their own sacrifice."

Nikita's heart tightened. She looked at the captain with a pale face.

"Sacrifice!" Her voice was hoarse with terror.

A sacrifice is an item used in a ritual.

Wizards, during rituals, were accustomed to using sandalwood, talismans, fine wine, and delicacies. More solemn rituals even involved offerings of livestock. For them, rituals were, for the most part, merely ceremonies to commemorate ancestors, only occasionally serving as a bridge for communication between yin and yang.

Demon rituals, however, were entirely different.

Demons had a long historical tradition. Their ancestors believed that the world originated from a great True Spirit, and every life was a descendant of the True Spirit. The True Spirit controlled the fortune and misfortune of each of its descendants. Wizards were fire-thieves of the True Spirit, rebellious children, and the flesh and blood of Wizards were the best offerings to the True Spirit.

Before every feast, demons would perform a simple ritual. And after every ritual, a grand banquet would be held. This was because fresh flesh and blood were the True Spirit's feast and also the delicacies of demons.

"So I need to choose a suitable sacrifice from among you," the captain of the Misty looked at them both gently, his dark red eyes showing no fluctuation. "First, your names."

He snapped his fingers, and the dim oil lamp on the table immediately burst into a verdant flame.

A wizened elf with a pointed head, pointed ears, and a white-flecked beard crawled out of the darkness, crawled onto the table, trembled, and spread out a gray-white beast hide.

In the center of the drawing was a black scale, as if drawn with charcoal from embers, with rough edges and a simple structure. The beast hide was covered with dark red runes that flickered with a faint red light in the dim cabin.

Nikita's lips moved; her mind was blank.

Sacrifice meant death.

From the time she was orphaned and living on the streets at the age of six, this was the moment she had been closest to death.

"Zhou Zhou," the little girl beside her pursed her lips and timidly stated her name.

The wizened elf roughly grabbed her small hand, pricked her arm with his dark fingernail, dipped his finger in the flowing blood, and wrote the two characters "Zhou Zhou" on the blank space on the left side of the scale.

"'Zhou' comes from 'mouth' and 'use.' A very, very long time ago, it represented a superior human sacrifice," the captain said, his back to them, as he admired the brilliant scenery outside through the narrow cabin window.

Behind him, the little girl clutched her arm, quietly sobbing.

The wizened elf poked the dazed female demon beside her with his long finger.

"Nikita," the female demon murmured.

Her name was filled in on the right side of the scale.

The green flame on the oil lamp surged, illuminating the old elf's weathered face, making it appear exceptionally grim.

"Now, you two will recite a passage from the Scripture of Reverent Feast before His Majesty the Sea Demon King's shrine," the old elf said in a hoarse voice, pointing to a small, dark section of the table that looked like a tree stump.

The Scripture of Reverent Feast is the scripture that demons must chant before their sacrificial banquets. It is said to be the True Spirit's teachings recorded by an ancient Demon King. Demons who do not abide by the commandments will lose the True Spirit's blessings.

Nikita was very familiar with these prayers.

The ancient Elf sang a line in its peculiar tone, and Nikita and Zhou Zhou repeated it.

"...Pour a large dipper, to pray for the yellow ones (gou); when the yellow ones' backs are strong, use them to guide and to hope. Long life and good fortune, to receive great blessings... Alas, how sorrowful, we reverently pray you enjoy!"

The entire scripture was less than three hundred characters, and they finished chanting it in less than five minutes.

The dark red runes on the grey-white beast hide map, as the last echoes of the chant lingered, emitted a dazzling red light, casting the figures of everyone in the cabin onto the walls, making them appear ferocious and distorted.

In the red light, Zhou Zhou's small hand tightly clutched Nikita's robe.

Nikita sat on the floor with her arms crossed, her head buried deeply in her knees.

To charge into the Silent Forest, to survive.

To escape from the Silent Forest, to survive.

To charge into the Lich King's territory, to survive.

To escape from the Lich King's territory, to survive.

To struggle for so long.

Is it finally coming to an end?

On the grey-white beast hide map, the scales swayed unsteadily.

The old Elf frantically asked the captain for advice. The captain, grabbing its ear, threw it out the window into the sea.

"You all choose one," the captain said, wiping his hands with a pure white silk handkerchief, and then tossed the handkerchief out the window as well.

On the table, the green oil lamp flickered a few times before finally extinguishing. Faint blue smoke curled upwards, lingering endlessly in the cramped cabin.

"If we can't live together, then let's live together," Zhou Zhou whispered into her ear, saying, "I haven't transformed yet, I can't eat people."

The banshee raised her head and glanced at the little witch. Zhou Zhou bared her teeth, her eyes sparkling.

A brief memory washed over her like a tide.

"Sister, this uncle is so ugly!" In the Lich King's territory, the little witch pointed at Nikita's lich teacher and whispered into her ear.

"When I grow up, I'll catch a bunch of little wizards for you! Eat one, throw one away!" Standing before the bonfire, the little witch waved her small hands with an air of precociousness.

"Sister, if you're hungry, just bite your finger and you won't be hungry anymore." On the road of escape, facing her who hadn't had a drop to drink, the little witch comforted her.

The banshee wailed.

"What a fascinating aroma," the captain of the Misty turned his head and looked towards the cabin. He took a deep breath, his expression enraptured, his tone growing more gentle: "Exuding fear and despair, yet still trying to struggle, grasping even the slightest glimmer of light tightly, refusing to let go."

"Perhaps your teacher sent you here because they knew you could still see a sliver of light."

Nikita felt a bone-chilling cold.

"You can let go now."

Nikita wept profusely.

She knew she was about to fall into the deepest darkness.

The captain looked at her gently.

Watching Nikita sob, chew.

Watching the thin bloodstains slide down her lips.

Watching them merge into one in despair.

The blood at the corner of her mouth was sweet and warm.

But Nikita's stomach began to grow cold.

This coldness would soon spread throughout her entire body, and it would continue to be cold forever.