Larissa was taken aback by the hologram Vicente projected. Her eyes flew wide open as the earlier fury drained away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of astonishnt.
"Lothur!" she cried, breaking into a run while keeping pace with Vicente. The image stirred vivid mories—of the last ti she had seen her friend and partner in Concordia, eons ago.
She had spent little ti with Lothur. Her forr business associate’s journey in Concordia had been brief yet teoric, leaving their plane behind for Anicane. Nevertheless, his impact on her life had been profound; even after thousands of years, she rembered his face with crystalline clarity.
Today, the mory of high-level cultivators filled her with wonder, and after so long without news of Lothur, she instantly recognized him in Vicente’s representation.
Amid her amazent, a realization struck her, aligning the fragnts of the past with the present. "Hold on..." she said, locking eyes with Vicente as confusion danced across her features. "Are you telling that Lothur is a Devil? That he’s in Hell?"
Vicente nodded steadily. "Not only that—he’s the strongest in the dinsion... at least for now."
"That..." She clenched her fists, feeling the surge of the Infernal Crown’s power coursing through her once again, this ti with a renewed sense of fulfillnt and edging ever closer to her ultimate goal.
When she chose to defy the heavens and co to Anicane, Larissa had longed to reunite with Lothur and his won—a chance to tread a path she had once failed to follow in Concordia. Now, standing beside Vicente and aware of her old associates’ whereabouts, her ambitions finally seed attainable.
"Incredible," she murmured after a mont, a radiant smile gracing her lips. "I never expected him to transform into such a figure."
Vicente allowed her a mont to ponder the situation, deliberately withholding the potential complications it might bring. Nonetheless, he remained optimistic. Although he couldn’t rely on Lothur, he thought perhaps Larissa could assist him in dealing with the issue—and even if she wasn’t extraordinary in the challenges ahead, as long as she helped clear the way of a new enemy, that would suffice.
During a stretch of silent flight, punctuated only by the low, guttural sounds of the undead as they were guided them to the headquarters of the force that had acquired Lyra and Rex, Larissa set aside the months of inner turmoil. With renewed focus, she centered her gaze on Vicente and asked, "Do you want to take to Hell so that I can et Lothur?"
Vicente nodded affirmatively. "It’s necessary. It will be an opportunity for you to beco a Sorcerer and for to grow stronger. I left Hell because of the escalating conflicts there and my concerns for your safety. But I’ll secure Lyra and Rex before long, and once I acquire my new pentagrams, the situation in Hell won’t be nearly as perilous. By then, it will be ti to et Devil Ritter."
Larissa fell silent, lost in thought. Even without reading her mind, Vicente sensed the concern bubbling within her. "I don’t want any problems with him," he admitted. "He’s far too powerful. All I truly want is a chance to turn him into soone who isn’t an enemy."
With a deep and earnest sigh, Vicente continued. "The Hell is too volatile for beings like us, Larissa. Its repercussions echo through every level of existence—far beyond what you might imagine.
In that dinsion, everyone and everything is a potential enemy, unless they’ve already been subordinates. So, making even one friend would be remarkable, but if you could simply avoid creating new enemies, that would be a great start."
"I understand," she replied, sensing his genuine concern. "I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise anything. The truth is, I haven’t seen him in ages. And the last ti we t, we weren’t exactly lovers or anything that could grant so sort of leverage. We were rely associates... don’t expect too much."
"I know," Vicente assured her with a comforting smile. "Don’t worry." He remained confident that her approach might work. After all, getting close to a monster should be easier when you stand beside an old friend of theirs. At least, that was what he felt.
Vicente then explained what the Hell was truly like. He painted a picture of a dinsion teeming with both opportunities and dangers—a realm where even high-level beings could exist without feeling compelled to exterminate one another for the sake of success. He explained to her that the laws of Hell stipulated that whoever managed to dominate more than 50% of the realm would earn the right to sit on the Throne of Hell, essentially becoming the supre force behind the dinsion. However, even the strongest Devils of today had not reached that level of control. Thus, no Devil would realistically need to annihilate everyone else in order to ascend to the pinnacle.
Larissa felt a surge of relief at the news—it ant she wouldn’t necessarily have to confront her old allies, and would even have the chance to grow on her own terms, despite the unequal footing compared to those she knew.
Their conversation stretched on, ti slipping away almost unnoticed until they realized their next stop was only minutes away.
As they neared the Valley of Shadows, the group descended from their flight above the island’s rugged terrain, moving toward the uneven, foreboding ground below.
When they landed in a black depression, the band of undead paused, as if taking in the somber, lifeless landscape of this part of this part of the Inviting Isles. Here, amid the gnarled trees and a night darker than any other—one that seed to summon the latent shadows in even the purest hearts—they felt strangely at ho.
The dim glow of the moon cast shifting silhouettes that appeared to watch their every move. Yet these creatures were far from intimidated. They were in the service of the King of Darkness himself.
One among them, his eyes seemingly piercing the gloom, soon found the path once again, rallying the group after a brief pause.
Vicente and Larissa let their conversation die as they moved on, already feeling the increasingly strong auras surrounding them, the sign that they were close to the strength they had bought their friends.
Soon, they reached the final crest of the valley, coming face to face with an imnse wall that obscured much of the vista. Only the sharp, pointed tops of the force’s buildings were visible beyond this barrier.
Vicente stepped away from the group, striding purposefully toward a huge red tal door embedded in the wall—which blurred into the horizon. With only a few centiters separating him from his destination, he bellowed, "Valley of Shadows’ mbers, bring forth the one known as Barnet to within two hours! Failure to comply, and I will bathe this entire valley in light as I incinerate the souls of every cult mber!"
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