The world felt like it was melting.
Heat pressed into Asvard's bones, his muscles screamed, and even the ground beneath his boots felt hostile. But he kept walking. The silence of the Whispering Hollows was louder than any battlefield. It gnawed at him. Whispered things he couldn't understand yet, things that weren't meant for him.
But even demons needed rest.
He stumbled. Just a little. But it was enough.
His vision blurred. His legs moved like they didn't belong to him anymore. Each step forward pulled more out of him than the last. The fight against that armor-clad monster, the raw clash of wills, the pain of losing and regenerating an arm-it was all catching up.
"I'll… keep moving" Asvard muttered, eyes half-lidded.
And then he collapsed. The air left his lungs. His knees hit the dirt, then his body followed. No fight left. Just… gone.
When he woke, the world had changed.
He was no longer lying in the dust of the Hollows. No more scorched stones. No more flickering red sky. Instead, the room was dim, lit by a faint green hue from glowing stones embedded into the walls. The air was dry and cold, like secrets buried under centuries of silence.
He blinked once. Twice.
Then he saw them.
A woman with sharp eyes, like broken glass that had learned to observe before it cut. And a tall figure beside her, arms folded, gaze distant but heavy.
Zephyra. Varnak.
They stood quietly, not speaking right away. Watching him.
"You're awake" Varnak said, his voice low, not unkind but far from warm.
Asvard sat up slowly. His entire body felt like it had been hit by a mountain.
"Where… am I?"
"Somewhere you shouldn't be" Zephyra said, tone changed. "Then again, everything about you screams that."
Asvard squinted at her. "Do I know you?"
"No" she replied simply. "And we prefer to keep it that way."
Varnak turned to her briefly, then back to Asvard.
"You blacked out" he said. "Out in the Hollows. Not many survive that long."
"Didn't ask for help" Asvard muttered.
"Didn't offer it either" Varnak replied. "We just didn't want your corpse attracting attention."
Zephyra stepped forward. "You walked into the Unleashed Legion of Blades. The outer edges, but still within reach of its commanders. You're lucky the one who found you wasn't more curious."
Asvard remembered the pain, the voice, the helm he'd shattered. He flexed his left arm.
"Regenerated… that's right."
Varnak looked at the arm. "Yeah. That's the part we need to talk about."
Zephyra exhaled sharply and leaned against the wall. "You're not normal. Obviously. But the way you regenerated, only one other has ever done that. And that's the problem."
Asvard narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying?"
"You're something we've only read about. A species Hell barely dares to name" Varnak said.
Then came the word, heavy and cold.
"Abyssborn."
The silence after it was thick.
Asvard felt the weight of it, like a curse. Like a chain.
"I'm… what?"
"Abyssborn" Zephyra repeated. "A cursed species of demons. Not born, not created. Chosen. Or worse, forced."
Varnak continued, "There's only been one known Abyssborn before you. The First Demon King."
Asvard's breath caught.
"And no one's seen him in who knows how long" Zephyra added. "Most think he's dead. Others think he left Hell. But some say he's still watching, waiting."
Varnak looked Asvard dead in the eye. "Your existence… it wasn't supposed to happen. Abyssborns don't just appear. Especially not from humans."
Asvard furious. "I didn't choose this."
"Doesn't matter" Varnak said. "You have the mark. That shard in you… that's not just some relic. It's the reason you're like this. That shard twisted you into something else."
"I didn't ask for any of it!" Asvard growled, standing up. His legs trembled, but his voice didn't. "I didn't ask to fall. I didn't ask to be hunted. I didn't ask to bleed in a place where even shadows try to eat you alive!"
Zephyra's eyes narrowed. "And yet… you survived."
Varnak stepped closer. "That's what makes you dangerous. You were never supposed to. Do you know what kind of power sleeps in an Abyssborn?"
Asvard shook his head.
"Neither do we" Varnak said. "That's the problem."
Zephyra crossed her arms. "They're said to be destined for the throne. But cursed to never rest. Even Hell itself fears them."
Asvard sat down again, holding his head. "So what? I'm supposed to be some king now? I can barely stand."
"You're not ready" Varnak said bluntly. "But they'll come for you. Now that you've stepped into the Legion, you're on borrowed time."
"And once the Throne of Blades hears about this…" Zephyra trailed off.
Asvard looked up. "Then I'll fight."
"You'll die" Varnak corrected.
" I didn't decide on any of this, and I'll not let anyone decide what should, what will happen to me" Asvard said.
A silence hung between them again. This time heavier.
Varnak finally turned away. "Rest. You'll need it. You've stirred something. And soon, Hell will notice."
Asvard lay back against the cold stone wall. His mind spiraled.
Abyssborn.
Not just a species. A curse. A key. A threat.
He didn't understand it all. Not yet. But something deep within him stirred when they said it. Not fear. Not confusion.
Something older.
Something patient.
Like it had been waiting for this moment.
And it wasn't done yet.
Asvard stared at them, not moving.
The room felt colder somehow, even with the heat in the walls.
"What the hell do you mean… Abyssborn?"
Zephyra stood, folding the parchment and slipping it into her belt. Her steps were slow, careful, like she was stepping around a beast that hadn't decided whether to bite yet.
"You're not like the others" she said. "Not a demon. Not a human anymore. Something else… something rare."
Varnak leaned forward. "We don't know how Abyssborns are made. No one does. But we know this, only the First King ever had that form."
Asvard clenched his jaw. "Then why me?"
"We were hoping you'd tell us" Zephyra replied.
He clenched his fists, eyes burning. "You think I know? I didn't ask for this. I just wanted to survive."
Varnak gave a small nod. "Exactly. And yet you lived through things no one else should've. The Hollows. Ashar. You didn't just survive, you fought back. That's not normal."
"Ashar is not someone you can take lightly. He's one of the feared champions and one of the few who mastered the void arts." Varnak spoke.
Asvard sat back against the wall, eyes closed for a second. The pain was still there. His whole body felt like it had been dragged across blades.
"…I feel like I'm losing myself."
Zephyra looked at him closely. "That's part of it. Abyssborns… they change. Not just their body. Their mind. Their soul."
Asvard didn't speak.
"You punched a demon that's killed thousands" Varnak said. "With a missing arm. And your body healed mid-attack, like it refused to stay broken. That's not a trick. That's something else."
He looked away. "You don't get it. I'm not trying to become something great. I'm just trying to survive."
"Too late" Zephyra said. "You already became something."
Asvard's head lowered.
The words stuck. He didn't want this. He never asked for a title, or some cursed power. But if this was the only way to survive… then maybe survival meant becoming something worse than the monsters chasing him.
Varnak stood. "You should rest. You're safe, for now. This place is off the map. The Legion barely watches it."
Asvard didn't answer. He just stared at the ground, fists tight, eyes sharp but tired.
Zephyra added, "You're changing. Whether you want to or not. What you do with that… is your call."
They walked out, leaving him in the silence of the cave.
Asvard sat alone.
His body hurt.
His thoughts were a mess.
But somewhere deep in his chest, that shard pulsed again-steady, dark, and quiet.
He didn't know what he was.
But he knew one thing:
He wasn't done.
Varnak said "Him becoming an abyssborn is completely unprecedented. That child's fate maybe worser than what we anticipated before"
"The thrones are making their moves now. Which they haven't for eon's." Zephyra replied.
"Hell is shifting. No twisting" Varnak muttered.
(To be continued...)