The dungeon was no longer a mere labyrinth. It was a fortress, a kingdom in its own right.
And every kingdom needed subjects.
Ethan stood at the center of the Abyssal Citadel, feeling the darkness stretching outward. The call had been sent, and now, he waited for the first to arrive.
He did not have to wait long.
A ripple spread through the abyss.
A presence approached.
And then—
A figure stepped into the chamber.
---
The Fallen Knight
The man was clad in shattered armor, his crimson cape tattered and stained. His face was shadowed beneath his helmet, but Ethan could see the fire in his eyes.
Not the fire of righteousness.
Not the fire of faith.
But rage.
A man who had been cast aside.
"You are the one who calls," the knight spoke, his voice low and rough.
Ethan smiled.
"And you are the first to answer."
The knight stepped forward, the abyssal torches casting long shadows over his scarred features.
"I was once a warrior of the Radiant Order," he said. "I fought in the name of the gods. I bled for them."
He removed his helmet, revealing a mark on his forehead—an old sigil of the divine. A sigil that had long since faded.
"And they abandoned me."
Ethan watched him closely.
"Tell me your name."
The knight hesitated, as if the name no longer belonged to him.
"Darius," he said finally.
"Darius the Betrayed."
The words hung in the air.
Ethan nodded slowly.
"Then kneel, Darius the Betrayed," he said. "Kneel, and become more than a broken knight."
For a moment, there was silence.
Then—
Darius fell to one knee.
The abyss pulsed around him, wrapping around his form, sinking into his very soul.
And he did not resist.
---
Aldric's Silent Struggle
Far from the citadel, in the deepest part of the dungeon, Aldric remained chained in thought.
His body still ached, but it was nothing compared to the battle raging within him.
He had sworn himself to the gods.
He had fought against the darkness his whole life.
And yet—
He had hesitated.
That hesitation was still there, like a thorn buried deep in his chest.
And the abyss had seen it.
"How long until you kneel?" a voice whispered in his mind.
Aldric gritted his teeth.
"Never."
But the abyss did not need to rush.
The cracks had begun to form.
And soon, the light would shatter.
---
The Rise of the Abyssal Champions
Ethan watched as the abyssal energy wrapped around Darius, reshaping him, reforging him. His once-broken armor darkened, reforged by the abyss itself. His sword, once a weapon of light, pulsed with twisted power.
Darius stood once more.
But he was no longer a fallen knight.
He was reborn.
Ethan extended his hand.
"Rise, Darius, Abyssal Champion."
And with that, the first of the abyssal warriors was born.
But he would not be the last.
The abyss was only just beginning.
---
The Abyss Does Not Forget
Darius knelt no longer.
The moment he rose, the abyss claimed him.
Not as a prisoner.
Not as a servant.
But as a champion.
The air around him crackled with dark energy, his reforged armor gleaming under the abyssal torches. The symbol of the Radiant Order that once adorned his chest had vanished, replaced by an obsidian sigil—a mark of the abyss itself.
Ethan watched with satisfaction.
"Tell me, Darius," he said, "what do you desire?"
Darius gripped the hilt of his newly transformed sword.
His answer was instant.
"Vengeance."
Ethan's lips curled into a smile.
"Then the abyss will grant it."
---
The Price of Power
Darius could feel it—the abyss seeping into his soul, reshaping him from within.
It did not take.
It offered.
And he had accepted.
His body no longer ached from old wounds. His strength had returned—no, it had increased. He clenched his fist, feeling power surge through his veins.
But there was more.
A voice. A whisper.
"You are ours now."
Darius exhaled slowly.
He did not fear the abyss.
The gods had abandoned him. The Radiant Order had discarded him.
The abyss had given him a purpose.
And he would not waste it.
---
Aldric's Resistance Weakens
Far from the Abyssal Citadel, in the depths of the dungeon, Aldric's thoughts were in turmoil.
His faith had been his anchor, his unshakable truth.
But now?
That anchor had begun to rust.
He could still feel the divine light within him. It had not abandoned him—not yet.
And yet, something else had taken root.
Doubt.
He hated it.
Despised it.
But he could not deny it.
"You were strong once," the abyss whispered. "Why do you kneel to those who betrayed you?"
Aldric clenched his fists, his breath uneven.
"I do not kneel," he spat.
But the abyss did not respond.
It did not need to.
It had already begun its work.
And soon, Aldric would break.
---
The Gathering Begins
Darius was the first.
But he would not be the last.
Ethan sat upon his obsidian throne, feeling the dungeon's ever-growing presence. The abyss had called, and across the land, they had begun to answer.
Scorned warriors. Exiled mages. Betrayed assassins.
Those abandoned by fate itself.
And they were all coming.
Ethan leaned forward, his fingers tapping against the armrest.
"The world cast you aside," he murmured. "But the abyss does not forget."
Outside the citadel, the first of many arrived.
And soon—
The Abyssal Legion would be born.
---
The Abyssal Legion Forms
The air outside the Abyssal Citadel was thick with shadow, swirling like a living entity. The dungeon pulsed with dark energy, and the abyss stretched its influence further than ever before.
And beyond its gates—they arrived.
One by one.
Step by step.
The forsaken. The outcasts. The betrayed.
Each drawn by the abyssal call.
Each seeking power.
Ethan watched from the throne of his growing dominion, his eyes glowing with dark light. The first to kneel had been Darius, the fallen knight. But now, dozens—hundreds—approached the dungeon's borders.
And Ethan would welcome them all.
---
The Forsaken Assemble
The first of the arrivals stood at the entrance, staring at the shifting shadows that marked the dungeon's edge. Their eyes glowed faintly, their souls already touched by the abyss.
Among them:
Selene the Exiled Witch – Branded a heretic for delving into forbidden magic, she had been burned at the stake. But the flames had not been enough. The abyss had whispered to her, and she had risen once more.
Varian the Shadowblade – A master assassin who had been betrayed by his own guild, left to die in a pit of venomous beasts. He had survived, but not unaltered.
Morrigan the Deathsworn – A warrior who had once commanded legions, only to be betrayed by her own king. Her blade, once wielded for honor, now hungered for vengeance.
They were but a few among the gathering.
And they all had one thing in common.
They had nothing left—except for their hatred.
---
Darius, Abyssal Champion
Darius stood at Ethan's side, his form radiating abyssal power. He had not yet spoken, but Ethan could feel it.
The hunger.
The purpose.
Darius had once been a knight of light. A man of unwavering faith. But now, that faith had turned to something else.
Devotion—to the abyss.
He stepped forward, his abyss-forged blade gleaming in the dim light. His voice, now deeper, carried across the silent crowd.
"You stand at the gates of the abyss," he called out. "You have come seeking power. Seeking vengeance."
A murmur passed through the gathered warriors, mages, and exiles.
"But the abyss does not grant gifts freely," Darius continued. "You must kneel. You must submit. Only then will the abyss make you more than what you were."
For a long moment, no one moved.
And then—
Selene the Exiled Witch took a step forward.
She raised her hands, her fingers still blackened from the pyres that had tried to consume her. Her voice was quiet, but unshaken.
"I kneel to the abyss."
She sank to one knee.
Then Varian followed.
Then Morrigan.
Then, one by one, the others.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
The abyss had found its army.
And Ethan had found his legion.
---
Aldric's Struggle Continues
Deep within the dungeon, Aldric sat in the darkness.
The chains had long since fallen away, but he had not left.
He had not been imprisoned.
Not truly.
And yet, he could not move.
The divine light that once burned within him felt distant. Faint.
He had spent his life fighting the darkness.
But now?
He could hear it.
Not as a whisper.
Not as a threat.
But as a promise.
"You were abandoned."
"You were left to suffer."
"But the abyss never forgets."
Aldric's hands trembled.
"No."
His voice was weak.
The abyss did not press him. It did not force him.
It merely waited.
Because it knew—
In time, all things kneel.
---
The Abyssal Legion Marches
Ethan rose from his throne, standing before his gathered followers.
His army.
"You were cast aside," he said, his voice low but powerful. "They thought you were broken. They thought you were lost."
He extended a hand.
"But the abyss does not discard its own."
The darkness surged.
The dungeon expanded.
The world would learn the truth.
The abyss had awakened.
And it would not be stopped.
---
End of Chapter 14.
Ethan's army has begun to form, with powerful warriors, mages, and exiles answering the abyss's call. Meanwhile, Aldric's resistance weakens as the abyss patiently waits for his inevitable fall. The Abyssal Legion has taken its first steps—soon, the world will feel their presence.