Kelson had no idea how long he had been sitting there. The wind continued to howl across the wasteland, whipping up fine grains of sand that lashed against his exposed skin, causing waves of numbing, stinging pain. The cold seeped into his bones like a bone-gnawing maggot, burrowing from the icy sand into his marrow and causing him to shiver uncontrollably. His throat felt as though it had been repeatedly rubbed with sandpaper; every swallow brought a tearing pain. The hunger had long since surpassed the initial cramping, transforming into a hollow, all-consuming weakness that made even lifting his arm a struggle.
The Seventh Prince of the Empire, a member of the Augustus family, now lay curled up at the edge of the world like an abandoned stray dog.
He forced himself to stand, his legs trembling slightly from the cold and exhaustion. Looking around, he saw nothing but monotonously undulating sand dunes and a leaden-gray sky. The convoy had vanished without a trace, as if it had never existed. Captain Leo, the guards—not even a shred of the prison wagon remained. This wasteland, known as the "Forgotten Land," was living up to its name in the cruelest way possible.
Survive. The thought emerged faintly yet tenaciously from the depths of despair. He could not die here, could not "vanish at the border" silently and without a trace, as the Second Prince wished. Even if it meant bearing the shame of exile, even if it meant becoming an outcast abandoned by the world, he would survive.
Guided by a vague sense of direction, he set off toward the north—the direction the convoy had taken in his memory. Every step felt incredibly heavy, the soft sand sapping his strength. His tattered finery had long since lost its ability to keep him warm; instead, it had become a burden, tugged by the wind and tripping him up. He tore off the cumbersome wide cuffs and hem, leaving only enough to barely cover his body, exposing his arms and calves, covered in scrapes and bruises.
Time lost all meaning. The sun moved indistinctly behind grayish-yellow clouds, casting a dull glow. Kelson walked mechanically, his lips cracked and bleeding, his consciousness hovering on the edge between clarity and haze. Hunger and thirst were an eternal torment, and his vision began to blur with wavering double images. He licked his parched lips, tasting only grit and the rusty, metallic taste of blood.
Just as he felt his last ounce of strength about to vanish and his body began to topple forward involuntarily, the ground suddenly gave way beneath his feet!
It wasn't the sand collapsing, but the sensation of striking a hard, jagged edge. He lost his balance entirely and tumbled down a steep slope. Hard, cold rocks slammed against his body, bringing fresh pain. He tried to grab hold of something, but to no avail; he could only let himself tumble and slide down the slope.
"Thud!"
Finally, he crashed heavily onto a hard surface, the dust kicked up causing him to cough violently once more. The excruciating pain made him curl up; it took him a while to catch his breath before he struggled to lift his head.
The light was dim, but sufficient for him to see where he was.
It was a vast, man-made chamber. He lay at the end of a downward-sloping passageway. The stone walls on either side were smooth and flat, covered in thick dust and cobwebs, yet faint traces of strange, massive claw marks—far beyond human carving—and some incomprehensible geometric patterns could still be made out. The air was cold and stagnant, carrying the musty scent of earth and stone, along with a… indescribable, oppressive weight that seemed to emanate from ancient times.
This was no naturally formed cave. It was a ruin—an ancient ruin forgotten beneath the wilderness.
The instinct for survival overpowered his fear and curiosity. Kelson struggled to his feet, braced himself against the cold stone wall, and began descending the passageway. The passage was deep and sloped downward, as if leading to the center of the earth. The light grew dimmer and dimmer; only the faint glimmer of daylight filtering in from the entrance above barely outlined the contours. Dead silence—absolute silence. Only the sound of his own footsteps echoed through the vast passage, sounding exceptionally clear and lonely.
After an unknown amount of time, the passage finally came to an end, and the scene before him suddenly opened up.
He stepped into an immense underground hall. The vaulted ceiling soared high into the darkness, as if bearing the weight of the entire wasteland. Supporting the dome were dozens of colossal stone pillars, each so massive it would take several men to encircle them. Every pillar was carved with the forms of monstrous beasts—some resembling dragons, others completely beyond Kelson's comprehension. The floor was paved with massive stone slabs, their surfaces equally covered in intricate, ancient runes, most of which were now obscured by dust. At the center of the hall stood a vast circular platform, and at the very heart of that platform lay a complex magical array crafted from some kind of dark metal, studded with spikes and grooves. Embedded at the array's center was a deep purple crystal, about the size of a human head, emitting a faint, eerie glow.
The entire hall was permeated by an indescribable atmosphere of antiquity, desolation, and… danger. The hollow eye sockets of the colossal beast statues on the stone pillars seemed to be staring intently at this tiny intruder.
Kelson was so stunned by the scene before him that he nearly forgot his own pain. He cautiously approached the central platform, his gaze drawn to the deep purple crystal. The glow was faint yet profound, as if containing some dormant power. As if compelled by an unseen force, he reached out, wanting to touch the crystal.
Just as his fingertips were about to touch the crystal's surface—
Buzz!!!
The entire hall shook violently! The runes on the ground seemed to be activated by an invisible force, instantly bursting into a blinding crimson light! The light surged through the grooves like a living entity, instantly illuminating the entire central magical array! A violent, chaotic energy, reeking of destruction, erupted from the array, forming a visible dark-red vortex that completely engulfed Kelson!
"Aaah—!"
Kelson let out a piercing scream. He felt as though he had been thrown into an invisible meat grinder! The energy did not act upon his physical body, but instead tore directly through his mind! Countless chaotic, malevolent thoughts pierced his brain like steel needles, frantically tearing at his consciousness. The pain transcended the limits of the flesh—it was the sensation of his soul being directly scorched and torn apart. Everything before his eyes turned blood-red, and his ears were filled with countless frenzied whispers, roars, and shrill screams, as if billions of vengeful spirits were howling in unison.
His body froze rigid in place, as if nailed to an invisible rack of torture; he couldn't even move a single finger. His consciousness rapidly disintegrated under the onslaught of the violent energy, teetering on the brink of collapse.
Just then, a consciousness—greater, older, and more majestic—awakened like a dormant volcano, brutally bursting into this chaotic mental tempest!
"Silent… for how many ages…"
A deep, hoarse voice—sounding as if two massive boulders were grinding against each other—resounded directly within the depths of Kelson's shattering consciousness. The voice carried an indescribable weariness, yet it held a terrifying power capable of making the stars tremble. It effortlessly drowned out the chaotic whispers and shrill screams, acting like a stabilizing anchor to instantly carve out a small, relatively "calm" region within Kelson's chaotic mental landscape.
Kelson's remaining consciousness clung to this lifeline, desperately coalescing. He could not "see" the other, yet he could clearly "sense" the arrival of that presence—an indescribable vastness, depth, and darkness, like a boundless cosmic abyss, carrying an ancient chill and utter desolation. Merely sensing its existence was enough to freeze the soul of any mortal.
"The Abyss… the Demon Dragon…" A name born of primal fear, rooted deep in his bloodline, surfaced uncontrollably in Kelson's consciousness.
"A mere insect… to have awakened the seal of this prison…" The ancient voice carried a hint of barely perceptible surprise, which quickly turned into a cold scrutiny. "Interesting… your soul… so fragile… yet so… unique…"
That colossal consciousness, like an invisible tentacle, brutally probed deep into Kelson's memories. The loneliness of childhood, the indifference of the royal family, the mockery of those who were magic-resistant, the humiliation of exile, the despair of the sandstorms… All his experiences, all his pain, all his secrets—nothing could hide from this ancient being; they lay bare, like the pages of an open book being casually turned.
"I see…" The dragon's voice carried a hint of understanding, but more so a cold, mocking tone. "Augustus's outcast… a pitiful creature blinded by lies…"
Kelson's fraying consciousness struggled amidst excruciating pain and terror: "You… who are you… what do you want…"
"My name is Astaros." The voice echoed like a reverberation from the abyss, carrying an authority that brooked no argument. "As for you… Kelson Augustus… you are not some worthless, magic-resistant废物… you are of the 'Spell-Devourer' bloodline, cursed by a false god… the last flickering ember of this world!"
Spell-Devourer? Curse? False God? These words exploded like thunderclaps within Kelson's chaotic mind!
"A hundred years ago… your ancestors… glimpsed the lies of the gods… and dared to tear away that veil of falsehood…" Astaros's voice carried a chill of reminiscence, "And so… the False God cast a curse… erasing their existence… distorting their history… branding the 'Lawbreakers' as taboo… regarding your power… as a plague…"
"And you… a descendant bearing that cursed blood… your lineage… instinctively rejects… the magical elements tainted by the False God… which is why… you cannot sense… any magic at all…" The dragon's consciousness cut through Kelson's greatest mystery like a cold blade. "The royal family exiled you… not merely because of shame… they… were nothing more than puppets in the hands of the false god's lackeys… they feared… the awakening of your bloodline… feared that you… would tear apart the lies shrouding the world!"
The truth! A cruel and shattering truth! Like a bolt of lightning, it cleaved through the gloom and humiliation that had weighed on Kelson's heart for years! He was no failure! His "insulation" was a curse—but also proof of his power! Behind everything he had endured lay such a earth-shattering conspiracy!
"Now… insect…" Astaros's voice suddenly turned dangerous and seductive, "Your body… is about to be utterly torn apart by this runaway sealing array… and your soul… will be obliterated along with it…"
Kelson could clearly feel the raging crimson energy outside intensifying; his body was like a flickering candle in the wind, on the verge of complete collapse at any moment. The shadow of death had never loomed so tangibly over him.
"Do you want to live?" The Demon Dragon's whisper, like a devil's seduction, struck directly at the deepest recesses of his soul. "Do you want to obtain… the power to shatter lies? Do you want to take revenge… on those who betrayed you, abandoned you, and tried to erase your very existence?"
Survive! Revenge! These two thoughts ignited like wildfire in Kelson's dying consciousness! He would not die here! He would not be forgotten like trash! He would survive! He would make those high and mighty pay the price!
"I… want to!" He screamed in his mind, mustering every ounce of his remaining willpower.
"Very well…" Astaros's voice carried a hint of satisfaction. "Then… accept my contract… open your soul… embrace my presence… I shall grant you… the authority to devour all laws… and… the power of the Abyss!"
A dark energy far purer, deeper, and more terrifying than the external sealing array surged forth from the consciousness of the demon dragon Astaros like a bursting flood, forcibly pouring into the depths of Kelson's soul! It was not a gentle fusion, but a domineering invasion and symbiosis!
"In the name of the Abyss… by the blood of the Law-Devourer…" The ancient dragon-tongue contract thundered through the spiritual realm, every syllable imbued with the power of the laws. "I, Astaros, the Abyssal Dragon… and you, Kelson Augustus, the Law-Devourer… ...forge a symbiotic pact! Thy flesh... shall be my prison... and my battlefield! Thy will... shall bear my power... and be consumed by me! We shall live and die together... until... the lie ends... or... we return to nothingness!"
"Aaaargh—!"
Kelson let out a roar unlike any human cry! The excruciating pain reached its peak in an instant! On the surface of his body, veins bulged and writhed like living creatures, taking on an ominous dark purple hue. Beneath his skin, it seemed as though black flames were burning and flowing. His eyes—their pupils had vanished entirely, leaving only two burning, bottomless pools of pitch-black flame! An indescribable aura of terror—a blend of destruction and devouring—erupted violently from him!
At the same moment, the raging crimson energy of the external magical array, as if encountering its natural nemesis, surged toward Kelson's body like a thousand rivers flowing into the sea! No, it wasn't surging—it was being forcibly dragged and devoured!
That energy, potent enough to tear souls apart, was now being endlessly drawn into Kelson's body, devoured and transformed by the newly awakened instincts of the "Spell Devourer" within him, as well as the power of the Abyssal Dragon!
The crimson light rapidly dimmed and vanished. The entire underground hall plunged back into darkness, with only the black energy flowing from Kelson's body and his eyes, burning with black flames, emitting a heart-stopping glow in the darkness.
The deep purple crystal at the center of the magical array shattered with a "crack," reducing itself to countless particles and losing all its luster.
The contract was sealed.
Kelson stood where he was, his body trembling slightly. The external pain had vanished, but a deeper, more eerie sensation filled his body and soul. He sensed a massive, icy presence within him, as if a ferocious beast had taken root beside his heart. He could clearly feel an unimaginable, destructive power lying dormant inside him, ready to erupt at the slightest thought. Yet at the same time, a primal, ravenous hunger for energy began to grow, as if a beast starved for a thousand years had opened its massive jaws.
He slowly raised his hand, staring at his pale palm. With a faint flicker of his thoughts, a slender flame—like black smoke—danced and burned silently above his palm. The flame held no warmth; instead, it radiated a chill that devoured light.
Devour… Is this the power of the Devourer?
"Remember… insect…" Astaroth's icy voice echoed once more in the depths of his mind, tinged with weariness and warning. "With every devouring… with every use of this power… our fusion… grows deeper… When the boundary vanishes completely… that will be the day… you become me… or I become you…"
Kelson clenched his fists, and the black flames in his palms died out. He raised his head, his eyes ablaze with black fire, gazing into the endless darkness above the hall. It was as if he had pierced through the thick layers of rock, seeing the wasteland, the empire, and those figures high above.
The power to survive had been obtained.
The curtain on revenge had only just been raised.