Aaron closed his eyes again and began guiding his magic to circulate from the crown of his head all the way down to the soles of his feet, creating a continuous loop. About ten seconds later, a semi-transparent set of radiant flame armor began to take shape around his body.

  It was the noon armor.

  “So cool!” the boy beamed.

  Next, he picked up a dry tree branch lying nearby and gripped it with both hands. The light magic coursed out from his body into the wood and transformed it. Fiery lines spiraled over the surface of the branch, igniting into glowing trails until it became a blazing sword made of flame.

  Aaron swung it once, cutting clean through a knee-high boulder without exerting any effort. The split surface glowed bright red with heat, the cut so smooth it looked polished.

  “Whoa, that’s insane! Alright, time for the last one.”

  He compressed the flaming blade between his hands, molding it into a small orb. Then he kept pouring magic into it until the sphere shone with dazzling brilliance.

  Aaron stepped back a few hundred feet, then hurled the orb into the center of the empty field with a sharp throw.

  “BOOM!” A deafening explosion echoed through the air.

  At the point of impact, a circular crater about five feet wide had appeared, with small scattered flames flickering across the dry grass.

  “Damn! Even a grenade might not hit this hard,” Aaron muttered.

  But just seconds later, the look on his face shifted from excitement to panic. Flames from the explosion were beginning to spread through the dry grass around the area.

  “Oh crap, crap, crap!”

  It took him a while to stomp out the fire. By then, his entire body was covered in soot and ashes, his face dark with black streaks. Far off in the distance, the sound of a fire truck siren pierced the night air, and that was Aaron’s cue to run for his life.

  He dashed all the way home, leapt back through the window, and shut it behind him. The click of the latch made him freeze on the spot.

  A few seconds passed. No sound came from outside the room.

  He let out a quiet sigh of relief, then glanced at the clock. It was already past 1 a.m.

  Aaron took a quick shower and got ready for bed. He lay down without a blanket, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts.

  “So freaking hot ...” he grumbled.

  The energy from the Light Heart continued to strengthen and rebuild his body nonstop. But the solar magic also left him constantly feeling overheated and unable to rest.

  Maybe I should just crank the AC down a few notches ... Nah, if I do that, Mom and Dad might get suspicious. This should be less of a problem once I get better at controlling my power.

  He couldn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, he lay there with his eyes open, thoughts drifting.

  I wonder what Luther’s doing right now. Going out on a mission? Reapers seem to take on all kinds of missions. That is so cool ...

  I’m only at the official-knight rank and already this strong. Heh heh heh ...

  Then a thought came to him all of a sudden. Aaron sat up and placed a hand over his left chest, drawing out a blazing orange light. It flickered and shifted from one shape to another, casting a strange and dreamlike glow across the room.

  “Ambaeris.”

  It was a gift Orpheus had left him alongside the heart. Ambaeris is one of the seven primordial lights from the earliest days of the cosmos, given to Orpheus by Apollo himself, and now it belonged to Aaron.

  With a focused thought, he shaped the light into a glowing lyre, ethereal and luminous. The moment it rested in his hands, a feeling of deep familiarity washed over him. His fingers moved almost on their own, as if they had played it thousands of times before, although he had never played any instrument before.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Soft music filled the air with notes drifting out across time and space, and instead of disturbing anyone, the gentle melody lulled everyone nearby into an even deeper sleep. Smiles tugged at their lips as they dreamed.

  …

  At the center of Pleon (the Fourth Layer of the Abyss) lay a barren, endless plain stretching out in all directions. The ground was covered with black grass, and scattered across the landscape were little white flowers, each shaped like a tiny human figure hanging from a noose.

  A creature flew in the low skies. It had the face of a man, six goat heads branching from its sides, and the long segmented body of a centipede. That was none other than Tarisel.

  “That wretched whore. Once we become a divine being, we’ll tear her apart!” the third head snarled.

  “Eat her! Rip her apart!” the sixth one shrieked.

  “Pluck out her eyes. Gut her. Hang her on a tree,” the first chimed in with disturbing glee.

  “Silence!” the human head finally snapped, his voice deep and resonant.

  “Taziel, you’re awake!”

  “Why the hell were you asleep during the most important moment? That damn bitch interfered at the worst time, and the boy slipped through our grasp!”

  “Filthy wretch!”

  “Enough,” the deep male voice said again, firm and composed. “What’s lost is lost. If something truly belongs to us, it will find its way back in time. And if it doesn’t, then no matter how hard you try to seize it, it will never be yours.”

  “But still …”

  “If it weren’t for you lot,” the deep male voice growled, “I would’ve become a Helllord a long time ago. When we ascend to our divinity, I’m going to fucking seal all of you at the bottom of Sigalis.”

  “We’re so sorry!”

  “Shit, he’s mad.”

  “Please forgive us, brother Taziel!”

  “We’re your brothers and sisters, remember? Don’t go overboard! Father will hear about this!”

  The human head let out a long exhale, and after that brief outburst, they continued flying forward.

  Not long after, the ground ahead gave way and revealed an enormous trench stretching from east to west, from horizon to horizon. It spanned for miles in width and was filled with a choking, pitch-black darkness that swallowed all light.

  Tarisel then descended into the chasm. As they flew downward, they passed by all kinds of bizarre and twisted demons: oozing and rusted swords that drifted through the air like fish, a pair of lungs flapping and entwining as they floated by, a pine tree with leaves that looked like human fingernails ...

  Whenever they spotted him, the sinful beings would call out:

  “Greetings, my beloved Highness.”

  “It’s been a long time, Prince Tarisel. Khak khak khak ...”

  Tarisel scowled:

  “Shut up.”

  Something massive began crawling up from below. It was an old woman, her size towering as high as a hundred-story building, and her long, ragged black dress was decorated with the spines of all kinds of creatures.

  “You’ve returned, Prince Tarisel,” she said, voice echoing like stone grinding against stone.

  “Lady Olystra, I need to see my father,” Tarisel replied.

  “He is inside the Apatos Hall.”

  The two of them continued to descend deeper into the Sigalis Trench. The further down they went, the wider the chasm grew, and the silence became heavier, pressing against their ears. The sinful entities became fewer in number, but those that remained were even more grotesque, each one more powerful than the last.

  They eventually reached the very bottom.

  There stood a vast palace built from a material darker than shadow itself. It reflected no light, no shine, and at the entrance, two mountainous statues stood guard, each one an archdemon in full form.

  The woman stopped outside and let Tarisel step into the palace alone.

  Inside was a grand and imposing hall so massive it seemed to stretch on forever. In the middle of the chamber sat a colossal being upon a throne of light.

  This entity had a body cloaked in black fur and wore silver armor etched with intricate, ancient patterns. Battle scars and divine engravings covering every inch of it.

  From his neck rose three heads.

  The one on the left was a black goat head, with twisted horns and a wicked grin curling at its lips.

  The right one was a calm and peaceful white bull head.

  In the center was a human head, that of a man in his thirties with silver hair. His features were as striking as those of both a divine being and a King of the Abyss, capable of making the weak-hearted fall to their knees and worship him with just a single glance.

  All three heads had their eyes closed in serene stillness.

  Behind him was a swirling nebula, its colors silver with a crimson edge, rotating in an almost imperceptible motion, each cycle an era. From there echoed countless voices of earnest vows — “Under the witness of the Argent King…”, “In the name of the Silver Oath…”

  Tarisel lowered themselves in a gesture of respect and said:

  “Father.”

  “You failed, didn’t you?” the goat head spoke without opening its eyes.

  “Yes, Father. I’m a disgrace,” Tarisel responded, voice steady but low.

  “Failure is not what you should fear,” the bull head said, its tone calm like incense smoke curling through a temple hall. “What’s truly terrifying is surrendering to defeat. The path to the Majority is never an easy one. So many ages have passed, and yet the number of Major Beings in the cosmos remains the same familiar few. You’ve underestimated its difficulty and placed too much faith in that prophecy.”

  “I won’t give up,” Tarisel said, lifting their head a little bit. “Will you allow me to borrow …”

  But they didn’t even get to finish their sentence before the goat head cut them off.

  “Take Ousaeides to Apat (The Eight Layer) then to Dolion Well. Someone will meet him there and sneak him into the Origin when the time comes.”

  He already knows everything, Tarisel thought.

  “Thank you, Father,” they said aloud, bowing their head again.

  Just then, a creature walked out from a side entrance.

  It was a cat, but not one of flesh and fur. Its body looked like it was molded from red wax, patterned with deep black markings like cursed tattoos.

  Atop its head burned a black flame, flickering but steady, and embedded in its chest were five large nails, each one rusted and leaking fresh blood.

  “Hello, Prince Tarisel,” the cat said. “Let’s go, let’s go, I’ve been bored out of my mind.”

  Tarisel gave a faint smile and replied:

  “Your freedom awaits you up ahead.”