Shadow of the Abyss

"How are you feeling?" Medusa's silky voice reached out.

Languidly, Altair gently laid back as the last of the Elysium Root tea was consumed. Torrents of Mana surged through his meridians to gather in his heart.

He gave a low growl of a wolf as the Mana traveled through some of the Meridians that he had ruptured but held steadfast by creating an artificial pathway with refined Vale Qi.

Slowly, the pain on his face crept away to a serene expression.

"Sleepy. Does Elysium Root do that?"

"I think you are confusing tranquility with weariness," Madusa explained softly, brushing the hair from out of her Master's face. There was a tenderness to her touch that seemed missing these past few days.

'She is mad at me. Yet she can still smile like that. Women are such odd creatures.' "How long will it take to produce more Elysium Root?"

"Couple months. The Gardens of Stygian are one of the most fertile I've ever witnessed. And with the blessing of Hestia, we should be able to cut down thousands of years to a few months." Medusa paused, hesitating. "I… we do have more, but I gave them to Syris."

As if he had not heard or cared, he waved off her concern."It's fine. The lands of the Duchy are bountiful. There are bound to be resources here or across Almore. And—" he smiled.

"And…"

"And I have you. A swordmaid who is quite the botanist." his grin seemed almost childlike. "Reina will adore you."

Medusa's cheeks blossomed with color. "Get some sleep, your grace. You've got a long day tomorrow."

He watched her scamper out of his chamber and laughed but did not fall asleep as she suggested. Rather, he closed his eyes and felt the Mana in him slowly becoming one with the Vale. Each cycle through his meridians and around his heart, Altair felt the taint of his Vale Qi tarnishing the almost amethyst glow of his Mana.

It was still nearly a couple of Dao Cycles off from becoming one with the Vale, but the more the Mana became Tarnished, the more he felt at peace with it.

Name: Altair Blackwood

Class: [ King of the Vale III: Lv 1→ Lv 100]

Mana Circle: [Sixth Circle: 0 → 41%]

Strength: 3000 → 3300

Dexterity: 3800 → 4200

Constitution: 4000 → 4600

Wisdom: 5000 → 5600

Charisma: 5000 → 5600

Mana: 450

Omniscience Lv 1

Compulsion [D]

Proficiency: 12%

Spirit Domain [C]

Range: 150m

Proficiency: 15%

Sword of the Vale [F]

Proficiency: 57%

Sword Limit: 2

Dual Cultivation [C]

Proficiency: 90% → 0%

Desolate Abyss [F]

Multiplier: 2.5x

Proficiency: 65%

Desolate Descent [F]

Proficiency: 99%

Eye of Sacrilege [B]

Proficiency: 10% → 11%

Fallen Necromancy [C]

[Proficiency: 0%

Soul Storage: 100/200

Foresight [E]

Proficiency: 57% → 99%

Grave of Night [C]

Proficiency: 69%

Hands of the Incubus [F]

Proficiency: 80% → 98%

Hellish Rebuke [F]

Proficiency: 97%

Infernal Bane [D]

Proficiency: 56%

Infernal Lightning [D]

Proficiency: 78% → 98%

Rune Work [E → D]

Proficiency: 0%

Sovereigns Gale [E → D]

[20m]

Proficiency: 0%

Vale Manipulation D]

Proficiency: 50% → 80

Mana Manipulation [C]

Proficiency: 60% → 70%

Ninth Form, Aeron C]

Proficiency: 70% → 90%

Soul of the Indomitable [C]

Proficiency: 60% → 70%

Primal Instincts [E]

Proficiency: 99%

Altair sighed in amazement at how much he had grown thanks to the Elysium Root and his week-long tryst with Tasha.

'According to the System Logs when it came back online. Elena granted me a single percentage, Tasha gave me over thirty percent, while the rest came from the Elysium Root.'

He glanced at Tasha below his bed, curious to know how much of her Mana she had held back. As a devil, Tasha was without equal in terms of attributes and Mana. She was an apex race. Perhaps not amongst other demons, but in general, she was within the top twenty, Altair told himself.

Calmly, Altair regulated his breath, barely over a whisper, opening himself to the Ninth Form, breaking whatever serenity he might have found with the Elysium Root, and tightening his already closed eyes.

Suddenly, hundreds of pearly red eyes opened within a shadowscape of darkness, all watching him, each one swirling about as if to cross-examine him. Mouths opened from the darkness, exposing jagged, hooked teeth not even a shark might have, opening and closing around him.

Altair gulped, suddenly conjuring a vale sword as he spun, clashing with a… clone of himself. An image that held darker skin and eyes of burning fire, bleeding out. Sucking in a deep breath, he broke the sword bind with a flick of the wrist, pushing the both of them back several steps.

"Who!"

"It is I, boy!" The palatine accented voice of the Vale King thundered through the darkness, the madness. "You have come a long way. Welcome to my world!"

Blood oozed from the darkness, sliding down the night as if it were a wall, slowly turning to a tainted bile the further it traveled, ever downwards.

Altair stomach churned. "You can't be here!"

"A battle of supremacy!" The Vale King went on as if he hadn't heard. "I don't like that you have the reins. It should be split down the middle. Shouldn't it?"

"...You can't be here!"

"You accepted me!" The Vale King thundered to be heard. "Each desire I held, you followed through with. Did you think there would not be consequences? Perhaps if you had used your omniscience, but even with all that power, you still choose to be ignorant." he crackled. "It's not your fault. You were raised like a mortal. While I a palatine."

"You're delusional." Altair found the words, taking a step into the mouth, snapping into his ankle. Pain lanced up his spine as he roared. When he tried to jerk his foot out, it was gone, eaten by the madness around him.

Torment, unlike anything he had ever faced before, struck him like a battering ram, raising tendrils of veins to wiggle across his flesh like worms as he desperately tried not to scream, to give the Vale King the satisfaction of his cries. He would not allow him that.

"Each time you close your eye, each time you savor that orgasm in one of those tight cunts of yours, you shall face me. You shall face me to the death, and if I win. I gain control. If you win… well."

"No…" Altair breathed. "That's madness!"

"You accepted me, Altair Snow! You accepted me." The Vale King snapped. He pointed the jagged sword of Vale Qi at him, buzzing with the thrumb of lightning. "This is the price that must be paid. You and I shall battle for eternity! Until one of our wills breaks."

Altair mind swirled, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

"If you thought what we did to Tasha was fun, you will learn! There are so many holes to be plugged, so many kingdoms to be conquered, and so many more to kill."

"That isn't the way."

"I—"

His eyes opened, and a cold sweat trickled down Altair's forehead, startling him. The first thing he noticed was the moonlight peering through the chamber window. The pain in his leg was gone, but the maniacal laughter of the Vale King's voice continued to resound through his head.

He was back in the Dutchy, back in Almore.

"There is a time limit," was the first thing he thought, opening himself to his Omniscience to confirm. Despair shrouded him like a veil when he learned it to be true.

"Madness!"

"No! No! No!" A torrent of baleful energy tore at the chamber walls, tearing the paint from off the walls. And a low feral growl raddled deep in his throat.

"Let the eternal battle continue!" The Vale King declared.
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Altair refused to believe it, diving into his Omniscience to learn the truth of the Ninth Form.

Suddenly, the air suddenly felt heavy, and the sensation of falling overwhelmed him, pulling him down. He shuddered, falling down, down, down into the Realm of Spirits. Resisting the urge to close his eyes, to focus, flashes of lights filled the infinite depths.

He sought freedom but was given only despair, for there was no escape from the Eternal War of Madness. The Ninth Form only gave it a form and free will. His will.

Anger flared as Altair's fist struck his bed, and a somber laugh trickled out his lips. "Bastard… Bastard. Damn you! Damn you to Hell. Can I not be happy!"

As the next dawn approached, Altair's foul mood was evident, facing Iliana on the lawn.

"Did you like my gift?" She asked him.

"You did this?" he realized. "You condemned me with this bloody curse!" His voice was calm, yet the hatred was all the more evident with each word uttered.

"With a bit of help." she nodded. "It's quite the thing. Madness. Most people think it is a curse Azazel brought upon the land by teaching mortals and gods how to cultivate. I think that is false. I think madness is the price we may pay for the Almighty One using the Abyss as a source of fuel to power his Myriad Heavens.

Madness. The Madness of the Queen is the price we all must pay."