Thymos (The Seventh Layer of the Abyss), seventh Ring.

  Aaron’s soul was trapped within a glass orb. His face showed nothing but anger and despair.

  Damn it, the heart is almost fully awakened! So, the process only takes five days, not seven like he said. He must’ve lied to prevent me from using any tricks Orpheus might have hidden. Cunning demon bastard! Aaron cursed in his mind.

  The six goat heads glared at him without blinking. Thick red drool dripped from their gaping mouths, sliding down their black fur and splattering onto the stone throne.

  “Only four hours left. Over six thousand years, and at last, the day has come. My path to the Majority,” Tarisel whispered.

  Without warning, a silver eye appeared high above, right under the ceiling of the dome. It rotated, sweeping across the chamber, absorbing every detail. Its pupil widened in sheer panic the moment it took in the full scene.

  "Hmm?" One of the goat heads flicked its gaze upward.

  The silver eye vanished in a flash the instant it realized it had been noticed. It didn’t dare linger even a second longer.

  “Quick to run. And decisive, too.”

  “Well, well, well, Eye of Omniscience? No ... that was just a cheap replica. Whoever used it must not know who I am. They’d never dare to try such a petty trick right in front of me otherwise,” Tarisel muttered.

  They told Aaron:

  “Looks like someone’s trying to help you, little one. But it won’t matter because all struggle is pointless. I wouldn’t mind adding a few snacks before the main course.”

  …

  Back in the ICU.

  Henry stood still after casting Argent Gleam, and his glowing eye fixed on a place that didn’t exist in this world. Beside him, Michael and Helen stood in silence, clinging to hope.

  But only fifteen seconds passed before Henry’s expression had a drastic change. His face twisted in fear, cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he let out a painful cry as he clutched his left eye and collapsed to the floor, writhing in agony.

  “Mr. Henry! What’s happening? Are you alright?” Michael shouted.

  He and the bodyguards rushed to his side.

  Helen froze, then turned and ran toward the emergency button, about to call for a doctor, but she stopped herself at the last second, remembering that no one in the hospital could possibly help with something like this.

  Henry’s spasms began to subside after a few minutes. He got to his feet with Michael’s help, though his legs were still trembling.

  Everyone gasped when he removed his hand from his face. His left eye socket was now empty. Nestled in his palm was a clump of curled, black hair.

  Helen sensed that something was wrong. She asked in a shaky voice:

  “Mr. Henry, what ... what does this … mean? Is my son ... is Aaron still okay?”

  The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush the breath from the room. Henry said nothing for a long while then spoke:

  “Aaron’s soul is still intact. He’s alive. But his soul has been dragged into The Abyss by a demon of unimaginable power. That thing was so terrifying that just glancing at it placed a curse on me, one strong enough to tear through space and destroy my left eye.”

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  He swallowed and continued:

  “I have met grand beings, but they were nowhere as powerful. I believe what we’re dealing with may be something even worse, an epic demon or, possibly, an archdemon.”

  Henry’s voice dropped.

  “I’m truly sorry. In a situation like this, there’s nothing more I can do.”

  “No! That can’t be it! There must be something else; we have to try! Please, I’ll do whatever it takes!” Helen cried out, her voice breaking as she dropped to her knees.

  She was about to press her forehead to the floor in desperation, but Henry reached out and caught her, preventing her from bowing.

  “There’s no other way. If it had been a regular entity, even facing a demigod, we could’ve asked the Council to step in. After all, this is an illegal abduction. But the Abyss is not a place for the living. It’s the Forbidden Realm.” He took a deep breath. “You should prepare for the worst.”

  He knew that offering false hope now would only deepen their grief later.

  Helen felt the world tilt around her. Her body went limp, and she collapsed backward.

  “Helen!” Michael shouted, diving forward to catch her before she hit the floor.

  “Call the doctor!” he shouted for help.

  Doctors and nurses rushed into the room. In a blur of motion, they lifted Helen onto a gurney and wheeled her away to another room. Meanwhile, Henry turned and began to leave.

  Michael saw this and hurried after him. The ICU room fell into a cold, aching silence after that.

  No one had noticed there was someone else in the room the whole time; someone who had been there from beginning to end. His entire form was concealed beneath a cloak made of pitch-black feathers. A long scythe rested on his back, and a raven perched on his shoulder.

  “This is bad,” Acher murmured. “Real bad.”

  Both of them had been here for quite some time, even before Henry had arrived.

  “The mission must be about saving that kid. I wonder who he is to make the Flow send you here in person,” Acher said, his voice calm and rumbling like a whisper in the dark. “Those goat hairs are in fact from an archdemon. That will make things quite complicated. Can you sense where they came from?”

  “The Seventh Layer,” Luther answered without a shred of doubt in his voice.

  “Very good. That’s where your power is the strongest,” said the raven, his black feathers relaxing a little bit. “I knew the Flow would never force an impossible task.”

  He exhaled and asked:

  “And the precise location?”

  Luther fixed his gaze on the bundle of goat hair. His deep blue eyes caught a faint glimmer of light.

  “The Seventh Ring,” he repeated. “Inside a. Massive dome. There’s an. Ugly monster with goat heads. And a beautiful face. It’s holding him. Inside a glass sphere.”

  He could see the place in his mind as if he were standing right there.

  “Excellent. If you can visualize the exact location, it means you can open a gate to it at any moment. There’s a sliver of hope in this after all,” Acher remarked. “We’re dealing with a demigod here … We have no other option. You must use Ascended Power, even though it will damage your body and leave you bedridden for weeks. It is still better than outright failure, though.”

  Luther nodded, accepting the risk without question.

  “At your current level, you can only channel a single strand of ascended power or else your body would be annihilated,” Acher continued. “I estimate that amount would be enough to empower about two of your spells.”

  “If you use it to enhance Grip of Shadow, the intensity of the summoned phantom hand should be strong enough to restrain a demigod … but just for about three seconds. Keep in mind, it can only bind them and won’t be able to deal any real damage. You’re still far too weak to hurt an archdemon.”

  “If you apply it to Veil of Lie, you might be able to create an illusion convincing enough to fool him for about twenty seconds. But it’s nothing more than an illusion. If he senses even the slightest inconsistency, he could awaken in an instant.”

  “Enhancing Conclave of Darkness could summon a powerful demon by force to a specific location. But the summoned creature will be far beyond your level, and you won’t be able to control him. Do you have any ideas?”

  Acher gave the boy a small test.

  “Summon the demon. Somewhere else?” Luther suggested.

  Acher shook his head in disapproval.

  “Conclave of Darkness is a random summoning spell. You can’t choose who gets the invitation. Even if by some miracle you pull the same archdemon, he might still be clutching that sphere when he arrives. You’d never be able to snatch it away from him.”

  Luther paused, thinking again, and then began to outline another plan.

  “Very good. You’re starting to apply what you’ve learned,” Acher said, his voice showing a flicker of satisfaction. “That idea gets close to what I was thinking. Still … not enough. No demigod is that easy to fool. And besides, it might put the boy in danger. You’ll need to make some adjustments …”

  The raven explained his version of the plan to Luther.

  “Do you have it memorized?” he asked after he finished.

  “Crystal clear,” Luther replied with a nod.

  “We must be super careful. Even the smallest mistake could put us in big trouble,” Acher warned.

  Luther began to act. Under the guidance of the black-winged guide, he used the edge of his scythe and drew a fine cut across the tip of his left thumb. He then pressed the bleeding finger against the symbol on his chest.

  The crescent moon mark began to glow where it met Luther’s blood. A drop of deep blue liquid seeped out from the seal of Minos and merged with his magic, causing a soft azure light to radiate from his entire body.

  “Conclave of Darkness!”