Round 43: Helen

All around was vast darkness—above, below, and in every direction. Only by looking to the sides could one barely make out the towering cliffs in the distance—on their twisted edges, rock formations and stalactites jumbled together, with faint, miserable lights seeping out from their grotesque shadows, like a demon’s bloodstained fangs.
A huge, endless, eternally stretching fissure.
A unique roar shattered the silence; several streams of flame raced past, shaking the ground more violently than a herd of charging bison, showing no sign of slowing down as they faced a dead end ahead. The steel war chariot rushed out of the cliff, its heavy wheels spinning and howling, raising long trails of dust that, under the light, resembled clouds, as it gazed down at the dark, windy void below. The chariot flew over the chasm and landed on the stone foundation across from the cliffs, causing a loud crash and sending rocks tumbling, before rushing into a magnificent ancient archway.
A cluster of fortresses, towers, and palaces was built against the cliffs, stretching for miles—with a vertical extent roughly twice as much. Ancient builders carved through rock layers, dug out caves, and leveled the foundations to create this enormous, almost unbelievable structure. But as time passed, shadows eroded the exquisite murals, and the abyss swallowed the once-living beings… All that remained were gusts of cold wind swirling between the corridors and staircases, passing through the silent, towering buildings, nesting in the dark, empty halls, echoing through the long-abandoned dead city.
Forty-seven didn’t care at all; he hadn’t signed any convention for the protection of historical sites. Fortunately, the buildings had been designed to accommodate larger creatures, so he could still rush around and run freely.
“Be careful, there seems to be something ahead—”
Morrill sensed something lurking in the darkness surging ahead, but he only managed to say half the sentence. Forty-seven sped through the corridor, ramming through the closed stone door at the end, thus hitting whatever was behind it. The chariot jolted violently, and its lights seemed to go out for a moment. Terrifying, deep roars, bone-chilling cold air, and thick, black liquid sprayed everywhere.
“There’s an ambush!” Forty-seven’s spiked front end swayed violently from side to side—a clear precursor to a serious accident, as evidenced by the damage he caused to the walls.
“See? I told you,” the female mage said. She had accurately predicted the force of the impact, so she remained seated calmly, continuing to draw the plane map on the table in front of her, not even bothering to hold onto the armrests.
“I thought you meant the door.”

Kicked without doing anything at all—the predator waiting idly was clearly furious. The shadow writhed like a living monster, and unnatural cold winds surged from the depths of darkness. Ice rapidly spread along the bricks and stones, and a series of terrifying cracking sounds echoed through the buildings that had withstood years of wear and tear—debris rained down as a colossal creature, darker than darkness itself, uncoiled beneath the collapsed floors and raised its head abruptly. Its head extended so far that it nearly filled the entire corridor, its scythe-like black fangs lining its mouth under the light of the forty-seven lamps, forming a deadly circle over ten feet in diameter.

“It’s a Giant Bug Night Shadow. This is the first time I’ve seen one in person,” Moriel said, putting down her pen and activating the monitor on the desk to observe from different angles.

She looked as comfortable as a white-collar executive working overtime in an office, completely unfazed by the huge trouble lurking behind her—a problem even demons would find troublesome. The enraged Giant Bug Night Shadow was even more ferocious than forty-seven, chasing relentlessly, breaking through walls and columns, swallowing anything that got too close to its dark maw. Forty-seven suddenly made a sharp turn onto a stone bridge spanning the abyss. The Giant Bug Night Shadow reacted slightly too slowly and rushed forward, its swollen body sticking far out of the corridor—but it quickly swung back like a whip, climbing onto the bridge and twisting it in half with a single effort.

“That’s really putting us in a tough spot,” the steel war vehicle turned 180 degrees as it teetered, and a dazzling burst of flame appeared, tracing a brilliant semicircle amid the screeching friction of its wheels. Forty-seven reversed at high speed, and the eight barrels of the dual-mounted heavy machine guns at the front fired simultaneously. The powerful tracer bullets caught the Giant Bug Night Shadow off guard. Though its innate magical resistance and damage reduction helped it withstand most attacks, the intense barrage still forced it to hiss and retreat, suffering greatly from the bright light from the exploding bullets. It wasn’t willing to give up the easy prey at its reach—the more magical energy a food source had, the more delicious it was. But when Forty-seven switched to the Deathlight Cannon, the Giant Bug Night Shadow finally realized the high cost of using it as food. It rose dozens of feet into the air, releasing a cloud of negative energy, then darted back into the cold, dark corridors of the abandoned city to lick its wounds and wait for the next less troublesome victim.

“Stop playing around. Let it be,” Moriel said. She gathered some fragments of the Night Shadow’s body and carefully bound them with a magical barrier. “Night Shadows should be cunning undead creatures. Why does this one seem a bit silly?”

“It’s an Abyssal subspecies,” the succubus said, her eyes gleaming as if traces of energy lightning still lingered within them. “Even the Balor Demons back away when it hunts. Only someone as great as Forty-seven can deal with it so easily…”

“Flatterer!” Kayro made a face.

“Follow-up!” the succubus retorted immediately. Since there was no life-threatening danger, she wasn’t afraid to argue.

“Such a hassle. How much further?” Kari seemed to be losing her composure and patience more and more, growing more like someone else.

Continuing downward, the travelers walked for a long time; the great chasm remained bottomless. Portals leading to other depths between the cliffs were not hard to find, most of them protected within sturdy and dangerous fortresses or camps, guarded day and night by fully armed demons—a necessary defense measure for those unkind and ally-less lords of Tana’li. Many fools tried to obtain unsigned maps to take shortcuts, avoiding contact with demons who were tired of guarding and eager for fun. But this often led to even more ironic outcomes—after all, the demons had explored the portals in the Great Abyss for countless years; expecting an unattended door to lead to a treasure trove was rather fanciful.

Forty-seven was heading to a forward base set up here by the Queen of Demons.

“Look! It must be an envoy from His Majesty Mekansuth! Lord Forty-seven, please let me out!”

The demon left her war chariot and flew toward several strange figures circling deep in the canyon, exchanging a few words. They soon arrived near Forty-seven. Abyssal pegasi exhaled poisonous breaths and flapped their wings threateningly in the air, possessing deep red eyes and twisted horns just like the demon knights who rode them. The knights were fully armored, their weapons gleaming and sharp, clearly maintained meticulously after every battle—a rarity among demons.

“I welcome you on behalf of His Supreme Majesty Mekansuth,” said the lead humanoid demon, who was extremely handsome with a hoarse voice. He held a giant magical halberd, his eyes filled with intense and dangerous desire. He sized up Forty-seven; the female mage knew the demon was using prophecy magic to assess them. She hoped he would hurry up before the Ironman noticed such arrogant and rude behavior.

“Follow me. Don’t keep His Majesty waiting,” the demon said with a grin, revealing rows of sharp, yellowed fangs, before urging his mount to turn around.

“Don’t take it to heart. He’s mainly doing this to impress his subordinates,” the demon sent a secret message. “They’re constantly competing to catch His Majesty’s attention. I can’t believe He’s coming to greet us in person… I bet they’re all green with envy right now!”

After passing through a tunnel filled with a dreamy pale blue light, the magnificent fortress of the Queen of Demons came into view. It stood atop endless cliffs, solemn and splendid. The bridge leading to this grand building was a hundred feet wide, with graceful statues on both sides holding lamps that illuminated the entire bridge as brightly as day—almost as if to ensure visitors noticed the precious stones used, usually reserved only for royal palaces.

At the entrance, Forty-seven still insisted on driving up the steps with a clanging noise. Such rudeness drew angry glances from the demons who had already dismounted.

“Could you please step out of that ridiculous toy?” the demon captain asked, gripping his sword.

“Oh,” the demon sighed softly.

After the ladies got off as instructed, the demon nearly drew his sword to attack. The steel war machine transformed abruptly, with countless metal parts reassembling in a dazzling manner. For a moment, it seemed it was about to grow into a terrifying giant… Yet even when every piece of armor was in place and it took on the form of a grim armored warrior, the tension still lingered.

“Show some flair, pretty boys,” Fourty-Seven snarled, his teeth sharp like an alien’s.

The demon captain’s handsome face twisted with anger—only to suddenly step back, his expression becoming humble, like a dog with its collar pulled tight.

“Please.”

One door after another slowly opened, filling the hall with bright light. Melodic singing echoed softly, the carved curtains swaying gently, as if countless fairies were dancing to the rhythm. The brocade carpet was soft and warm underfoot, delivering a lazy comfort that seeped into the bones, like returning home after a long time and sitting on a sofa with a loved one, sipping a drink in contentment.

When the jewel-encrusted white curtains were lifted and the succubus queen on her throne appeared, Morriel had already thrown aside pride and layered several layers of mental protection around herself. Still, she was somewhat dazzled by Mekanshut’s breathtaking beauty. “It’s breathtakingly beautiful,” admitted the female mage, who was herself a pretty woman, admitting that there truly existed beings worthy of all the flattery in the world. Vadalia swayed her waist with charm, but compared to Mekanshut, she was like a nightingale next to a queen.

“You go talk to her,” Morriel sent a message to Fourty-Seven.

The maids surrounding the queen stopped singing and stared curiously at the visitors, whispering to each other. They could only be distinguished by their long hair and the color of their head auras. One of them even whispered something to Mekanshut in a very affectionate tone, prompting the succubus queen to curl her red lips into a teasing smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, mighty adventurers.” Mekanshut’s voice seemed to cling to the listeners’ hearts: “Vadalia, my child. Could you introduce these distinguished guests to us?”

“O-Of course, my Majesty!” Stunned by being called upon, the succubus stammered nervously: “This is…”

A series of grumbling sounds came from Fourty-Seven’s vocal organs, interrupting the succubus. Even “Flattery Magic” couldn’t decipher their meaning; the only thing certain was that they were deep and unpleasant, resembling the noise made by some giant mollusk swallowing saliva. There was a brief silence as no one knew what the Iron Man was up to again.

“The great… Jabba?”

The female mage believed the connection between Keri and Fourty-Seven was even closer than the Armored Angels hoped, since she could translate his words.

“The great Jabba… demands… I’ve had enough!” But before things went completely crazy, Keri quickly declared an end to the act.

So the great Fourty-Seven had no choice but to set aside pride and speak for himself.

“We’re here to see if you’re still willing to help us. If so, we’ll offer fair compensation—how about a golden apple?” Forty-Seven, who spoke seriously, was just as direct as Morriel—immediately revealing his true nature again.
“I’m more than happy to help, dear friends,” said Mekansuth, standing up and stepping forward. The maids stopped laughing and formed two rows behind the queen’s black wings. Mekansuth’s gaze swept over the steel, frost, and elves, before finally resting on Morriel’s deliberately low-key face. “Dinner is ready… Please follow me. We have many specific matters to discuss regarding our cooperation.”
“She’s scared you,” Forty-Seven said to Morriel.
“She’s mocking you,” Morriel replied to Forty-Seven.
The table was filled with delicacies, but the Ironman was more interested in the luxurious crystal aquarium that covered an entire wall of the dining room.
“Lord Udan?” he repeated the name emotionlessly. “Why is he pursuing Phylgas and the others?”
The demon queen raised her glass to Morriel before answering. “I believe it’s the construct weapons carried by the elves that have caught his attention.”
“…Gratzet has always been ambitious. Arrogance blinds him, preventing him from recognizing his limits—even after he was foolishly deceived and imprisoned by a mortal witch.” Mekansuth smirked. “Recently, one of my children managed to infiltrate the Silver Palace and discover a new plan Gratzet is plotting. At first, I thought he was trying to invade another primary material world… To assist the heroes who thwart the demon’s ambitions, I paid slight attention.”
“But later I realized his goals are far more than that.” The demon queen’s expression turned briefly sad. “Because of this, I’ve lost many excellent children. What he’s searching for is an ancient race, an ancient power… Now, I finally know what that power is.”
“The Dominators,” said Keli, sitting nearby, with blue lightning flashing in her eyes.
Forty-Seven raised his hand and tapped the crystal glass of the aquarium. The aquatic creatures from Heaven Mountain scattered in panic at the vibration. If Forty-Seven applied even a little more force, damaging this small ecosystem just a bit, the air of the abyss would instantly spell their doom.
“It’s so easy to conquer the world,” he said, staring at the aquarium as burning shadows covered these beautiful, fragile creatures.
“I’m relieved that Gratzet’s whimsical plans can’t succeed,” Mekansuth smiled again. “Including his absurd descendants, none of Prince Udan’s generals can match the two of you… Even he himself must think carefully. Since Gratzet is our common enemy, what better choice than an alliance? Let me think… If Gratzet wants to attack the Dominator race, he’ll have to devote most of his strength. So, a surprise attack on the Silver Palace will surely throw him into chaos. I’ll fully support you—my army is at your disposal. Gratzet can’t afford to lose the Silver Palace; it would inevitably shake his rule over Azgrath and lead to the collapse of the Triple Realms.”

“It’s not that simple. He doesn’t necessarily have to attack on his own.” Forty-Seven’s fingers traced patterns on the fish tank.
“Feani once mentioned signs that the Abominations are gathering!” Kaili suddenly stood up and looked at Forty-Seven.
“The Ruler,” Forty-Seven turned back. “It’s like living a carefree life alone for half your life, only to suddenly find an old man sitting in your home—saying he’s your father.”
“We want to go to the Ruler’s world. Do you have any idea?” he asked Mekansut.
The Lamia Queen pondered for a moment.
“My intelligence network can’t provide any information about where the Ruler’s race resides. Their history is too ancient… even as ancient as the Bottomless Abyss.” As Mekansut thought, her maids remained silent, their halos dimming to almost indistinguishability.
“However, there might be someone who can provide clues. But I can’t guarantee it… I try to avoid dealing with it unless necessary,” she said finally. “It’s the oldest and wisest being in the Bottomless Abyss… Oh, Miss Morriel, it might even know you.”
Seeing the silent female mage’s attention drawn, Mekansut gently parted her lips and uttered a name.
“Tammuz.”
After sending Forty-Seven and his group away, the Lamia Queen’s eyes sparkled as she pondered something else.
“To the most beautiful goddess… Your Majesty, how interesting! That metallic creature is trying to court you!”
One maid lay on a quilt made of angel feathers, holding a golden apple and giggling coyly.
“Your Majesty, why did you send them away?” Another knelt behind her, gently massaging Mekansut’s delicate feet. “We could have convinced them, according to the plan…”
“Only Batzu would stubbornly stick to the plan and refuse to adapt.” Mekansut clearly doted on these maids too; she gently stroked their silky violet hair. The maids breathed softly, leaning against Mekansut’s chest, their halos glowing warmly and intimately.
“He’s not human, nor is he like us,” the Lamia Queen said. “Persuasion is about drawing out desires hidden beneath reason… One must choose the right strategy at the right time. You should realize he’s still essentially an automaton, with the vitality of a machine. Machines don’t compromise, don’t back down, and don’t haggle. Children, have you ever tried to tempt a golem?”
Mekansut closed her eyes. “Just wait a little. Let him discover something more valuable in life… other than that mage girl. We don’t need to take action. The mage girl will teach him. Human emotions will ease our workload greatly. Alright, rest for a while and get ready to go home, children. This place is really boring.”
“Um, I’ll go inform them right away…”
“No need to call him,” Mekansut declared coldly regarding her former favorite. “His behavior in front of guests has embarrassed me greatly. Since he’s so stubborn, let him stay and patrol, showing off in front of the Great Abyss.”