In the deepest parts of the third stratum the mana was so thick it hung in the air like a soup. Every breath filled a monster's lungs with fire and ash, enough to choke most creatures, or burn them from the inside out. Beyond this, an aura of evil hung over every rock and dripped from every stone, as if the sins of the denizens of this place had been so extreme that it had seeped into every atom, penetrating the fibre of matter itself.
In this place a vast lake of fire could be found. Those that knew of it referred to it as Durgotha, the ever burning. To the more observant, the lake was not one of fire at all, although it may appear that way. The heat that radiated from the vast pit, more than a kilometre across and hundreds of metres deep was enough to ignite a normal monster simply for drawing close, but rather than fire, it was pure fire mana that radiated this deadly heat. So potent it could be seen by the n.a.k.e.d eye, the pulsing red mana ebbed and flowed in a slow dance as it was drawn ever deeper, sinking to the bottom before it would shift to the edges of the lake and rise once more.
To many, even to most demons, this was simply a place of great power, a location to be coveted for its incredible wealth of mana. Even so, none dared to approach it, it simply wasn't done. Those that sought to claim the ever burning lake for themselves seldom lived for long, such power was not to be held by the likes of them. As such, to demons this was a place of fear and caution, best avoided as much as possible. To the oldest and deepest of their kind, this location held a different fear. There were precious few places in the third stratum that would support a tier eight demon, that could provide the kind of mana that they needed to survive. In these select locations, the mightiest of demon kind dwelt, sleeping the ages away as they waited for the call.
Odin Malum crept across the b.a.r.e stone, instincts screaming of danger. He didn't want to be here, but the god had spoken and he found he had no choice but to obey, his blood, the very cells of his body demanding he acquiesce to the monster he had seen in his sleep. He hated this servile existence, his pride as a lone wolf couldn't stand having an authority stand on his shoulders, but he couldn't see a way out.
He had grown powerful feeding on the lives of those he had defeated, but he could not imagine growing strong enough to kill that. Even during his evolution, when he stood before Arconidem, it felt as if his soul was shaking. If he were to find the demon and appear before him in his physical body, it would likely be even worse. Unconsciously, Odin flexed the blades that extended from his forearms. It had been difficult to travel this far and only by drawing on every Skill he'd learned in his previous life and this one had he been able to survive. Now that he was so close to his destination, he hesitated.
It was so quiet. Unnaturally so. It took him a moment to realise what it was that was missing.
The infant demons were gone. They didn't spawn in the tunnels between layers he'd been relieved to learn, grateful not to have the little biters underfoot. For whatever reason, they did not spawn here.
Regardless of his growing unease, Odin was eager to discharge the task that the demon god had inflicted upon him, so he dipped into his skills, sunk his profile as low as he could and continued to creep forward. Before him, the slowly churning lake of mana roared with pure heat that threatened to drive even he, a native born demon, back. But he persevered until he had reached the edge.
Once again he hesitated, here at the precipice, but even now when every nerve told him to turn around and leave, his body refused to obey. Instead, he extended one blade and expertly clawed a section of stone free. Using the tip of the saw-like limb, he flipped the freshly carved rock into the air before measuring his strike and batting it out into the middle of Durgotha.
Then, he waited.
And then, it was too late.
A deep rumble echoed throughout the lake as the mana began to circulate more quickly. Before Odin's horrified eyes, a deep shadow appeared at the bottom of Durgotha, a vast darkness that shifted and grew in his eyes. Ever more quickly, the fire mana rotated and thickened as the centre of the pool dipped down until the entire lake had transformed into a swirling tornado of heat and ash, a massive figure uncoiling in the heart.
Rooted in place, Odin had no choice but to wait and watch as the torrent raged, drawing close enough to his feet that the claws on his toes erupted in flame, burning even his immensely resistant skin.
[You have awoken me, little mouse. Speak. Then you shall slake my thirst.]
Like a bubble filled with evil, the thoughts of the great demon intruded into his mind before it burst, flooding his thoughts with a screaming thirst for death that drove almost all semblance of rational thought from his mind. Odin wilted as he battled to preserve his mind, centring his being around his unassailable core of self.
[I have been sent by the demon god,] he gasped, [with a message for his servant, Torrifex.]
[Ahhhhhhh. I have slept so long. At long last my master has called for me. Speak, little mouse. Tell me what my god would have of me.]
The aura of sin that lay over this place thickened as the great demon woke, stirring until it seemed as if the air itself screamed for blood and slaughter.
[Arconidem demands that you rise and make his children ready for his return. Cull the weak, slaughter the unworthy and burn those who do not belong.]
[The time draws near then. I will stand before my master once more.]
With an eruption of pure fire, the figure within the depths of the lake surged to the surface. Odin saw nothing except fire and ash and a thousand blades.
[Come, little mouse. As I serve, so shall you. There is much work to be done.]
