Chapter 513
Chapter 513
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 513
Chapter Title: The Awakened Abyss (3)
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The fact that the Abyss had awakened spread throughout the entire Abyss faster than light itself.
The remaining six thrones.
The Lords simultaneously recognized that the Lord of Pitch Black had vanished into nothingness.
It was the Lord of Black Glory who first broke the silence.
There was no sorrow in his voice for the loss of a kin.
Only contempt and irritation seeped through.
A faint ripple of unease stirred in the minds of the other Lords at his words.
The Lord of Pitch Black and the Abyss Witch.
They both wielded the power of darkness.
But their essences were different.
If the Lord of Pitch Black's darkness was "created darkness"—chaos within order—
Then what the Abyss Witch commanded was the "primordial darkness," the pure void before all existence.
A shadow could never surpass its origin.
One Lord tried to rationalize the situation in his own way.
But their inner thoughts were far from calm.
The death of the Lord of Pitch Black was not merely a personal defeat.
It was a symbolic event—the absolute authority of the great nine Lords crumbling once more within the tiny stage of this created Abyss.
Already, three had vanished.
Three of the nine pillars had snapped.
The mighty empire they had built was slowly tilting.
Fear gripped them.
But at the same time...
The voice of the Lord of Black Glory drove a sharp wedge into their chaotic minds once more.
He was right.
No matter how mighty the Abyss was, it had yet to escape the prison of "primordial darkness."
The Lord of Pitch Black had vanished, but the colossal sniper Abyss he had forged with his final will still endured.
And as long as its purpose remained unfulfilled, the Abyss's gate would never open.
The other Lords immediately recalled that fact as well.
The escape conditions were clear.
Two paths.
The Abyss merely circled the Primordial Light, never daring to touch it.
It was a bizarre sight, like a starving beast hesitating before prey right in front of it.
Just as light expels darkness.
The beginning denies the end, and existence rejects nothingness.
The Primordial Light was the only poison that could fill the absolute void of the Abyss, rendering its very being meaningless.
That left only one path.
The Lords' minds converged on a single conclusion as if by pact.
The seven Lords thought as much.
Their goal was the elimination of Park Chan-woo anyway.
The Lord of Pitch Black had sacrificed his life to awaken the strongest, most certain blade to slay him.
The unbound Abyss.
The primordial chaos stripped of all memories, driven only by instinct.
No trace of her bond with Park Chan-woo would remain in her.
On the contrary, her instincts would compel her to destroy Park Chan-woo, the source of her chains.
Only his death would fully unleash the Abyss.
They wouldn't even need to lift a finger.
They could simply sit upon their thrones and watch the final act of this thrilling tragedy unfold.
The greatest hero perishing meaninglessly at the hands of the one who loved him most, without any resistance.
What a perfect, beautiful ending.
A satisfying thrill laced the will of the Lord of Black Glory.
Another Lord sent a sneer.
What kind of man was Park Chan-woo?
The hypocrite who embraced even the comrade who stabbed him.
How could he strike down Adora—who had followed him so devotedly—with his own hand, even if she had only lost her memories?
His heroic plaything grabbing him by the ankle at the end—what a delightful conclusion.
They anticipated it.
Park Chan-woo's demise.
The Black Witch silently gazed at the scene within the "primordial darkness."
All her attention was fixed on the sole being that had awakened in the darkness—the Abyss Witch, Adora.
'...I had my doubts, but...'
She had always known.
That Adora was fundamentally different from the other witches.
'All witches are my children.'
The Black Witch. She was the progenitor and mother of the witch race.
But their birth was no blessing.
She did not "conceive."
Instead, she "molded" them.
The Abyss.
The chaotic womb where all curses gathered and pooled.
She had made her nest there, kneading the fragments of curses and grudges floating in the Abyss like clay to shape new life.
In her own image.
Like extensions to share her solitude.
Thus, the artificial race of "witches" was born.
She bestowed names and powers upon the newborn witches.
Based on the types of curses that had nourished their birth.
To the witch born of "rage," she gave the power to command rage; to the one born of "sorrow," the ability to manipulate others' tears.
All witches were born this way.
Except...
...Adora was different.
She was not a creation of the Black Witch.
One day, in the deepest recesses of the Abyss—where no witch dared venture—within the origin darkness itself...
'You were born on your own.'
Born of her own accord.
As if the darkness itself had taken form with will.
Adora was the first and only witch birthed by the Abyss itself.
The moment she was born, every curse drifting in the Abyss prostrated before her in worship.
Rage, sorrow, jealousy—every curse knelt at her feet.
She was the being who reigned at the pinnacle of all curses, the witch first named "Death."
'My most perfect daughter. The Witch of Death.'
The Black Witch had shuddered the moment she first laid eyes on Adora.
The realm she had yearned for her entire life, yet could never reach.
Ruler of the Abyss.
That child alone was the sole hope to free the witches from the darkness and dominate the entire Abyss.
But Adora was strange.
Far too human.
She possessed an abundance of "emotions" that defied belief for a pure embodiment of the Abyss's chaos.
While other witches instinctively craved curses and reveled in chaos, Adora grieved in solitude, rejoiced in small things, and showed interest in beings beyond herself.
-A failure.
The Black Witch was disappointed.
A being born with the greatest potential, yet burdened with the deadliest flaw.
That unnecessary "emotion" error rendered her as frail as any mortal.
So the Black Witch devised a plan.
A scheme to sacrifice Adora and complete her greatest masterpiece.
'The Lord of Pride.'
She intended to shatter the imperfect vessel of the Abyss, extract its pure power, and craft the ultimate puppet obedient to her will.
But that plan failed due to the unforeseen variable: Park Chan-woo.
Instead, Adora grew stronger through him and began forging her own path, breaking free from her.
The Black Witch did not give up.
She revised her failed plan, seeking new possibilities.
She cloned Adora.
Using her blood serum and fragments of the Abyss, she created countless mini-Adoras.
The seven young witches born from Adora's curses were the result.
Perhaps through the clones, she could eliminate the original's flaws and manifest pure power.
But that attempt failed too.
The cloned witches couldn't even reach Adora's toes.
They merely crumbled in endless jealousy and inferiority toward the original, wielding imperfect power.
Adora was special.
The Black Witch had always sought the answer to why.
And now.
Within the "primordial darkness," where Adora had shed all her chains and revealed her true essence...
She finally understood.
'...Ah.'
She had comprehended the Abyss far too superficially.
The state before all things began.
It also meant containing all "possibilities."
A primordial canvas that could become light or darkness—undefined.
Adora was merely a "vessel" capable of holding everything.
That was why a witch had come to know love.
Why she possessed emotions as rich as a human's.
All of it stemmed from that.
Adora was the only witch who could choose and fill her own fate.
The Black Witch had seen Adora's potential as a "flaw" to excise, but now realized it was the true power that made her great.
And yet...
Her own child, forged by the Abyss.
The sole key to open the "gate" of the Abyss itself, which she had devoted her life to reaching.
'So the Abyss isn't just the dumping ground where curses gather at the edge of the Abyss.'
That realization shook the worldview she had built over eons to its roots.
Could it be... that it was akin to a living being?
All beings in the Abyss viewed the Deep Abyss as a sort of "trash heap."
The final repository for all negative emotions, unresolved grudges, and potent curses.
Filthy, impure, dangerous—but that's all.
Just a lifeless mass of chaos.
But the Abyss was alive.
And it had even turned the witches' most primal curse—"love"—into a tool for its descent.
It sent out the imperfect vessel Adora into the world, bound her with the chains of that intense emotion called "love," and waited for those chains to shatter.
Adora, stripped of all memories and bonds, perfectly isolated.
Finally freed from all suppression, becoming the "gate" herself.
This was the Abyss's true intent.
The Black Witch shuddered.
Then what, exactly...
'......What is the Abyss?'
If it was both a world and an intelligent lifeform.
Why go to such lengths over so much time to emerge into the world?
As if it had been "sealed" away somewhere for ages.
Or perhaps...
A more horrifying hypothesis flashed through her mind.
'......It was born?'
Not sealed, but just now born?
From the Abyss's birth to now, over eons, all the accumulated yin emotions in this world.
The grudges of billions of souls lost to war.
The despair of defeated and fallen races.
The sorrow of losing loved ones, the rage of the betrayed.
If the sum of all those curses, malice, and suffering had surpassed a critical point, forging a single colossal lifeform with will...
She trembled violently.
Her eyes shook wildly.
Then that thing was...
'......The worst monster since the Abyss's creation.'
"......"
Park Chan-woo stood, his body covered in wounds, facing the Abyss approaching him.
A colossal existence that was endless darkness itself.
The overwhelming void emanating from it was incomparable to any foe he had faced before.
But at the same time, he recognized it.
'Adora.'
That at its core, the heart of the Abyss, was "Adora."
His comrade, who had merely lost her memories.
The pitiable soul who had cast herself aside to save him.
The Abyss sought to erase Park Chan-woo and gain freedom.
Yes.
Perhaps...
'Adora. Are you happy now?'
This might be salvation for her.
A life as a cursed witch from birth.
Escaping the fleeting shackles of memories and emotions called "Adora," returning to the infinite Abyss itself.
But...
'Even if you're happy, I can't let you go like this.'
Park Chan-woo could not let her go like this.
Even if she no longer remembered him.
Even if she sought to kill him.
'I have to bring you back.'
He realized it was time to fight.