The moment I stepped fully into the chamber, the thousand high orcs erupted as one. The ground shook beneath their march, weapons swinging, teeth bared. The air reeked of raw essence, old and violent, tainted by years of conquest.
I didn't flinch. I could feel the Abyss pulsing within me, the black tree throbbing like a heartbeat in my mind. Every root, every branch, every vein of shadow responded. I was not alone.
I raised my hand.
From the folds of darkness behind me, shapes began to rise — silhouettes of creatures I had devoured, reshaped, and forged into soldiers of my Abyssal World. They weren't mindless. They knew what to do.
Black-armored figures, taller than men, swords glinting with shadow, surged forward, their movements synchronized with my thought. The very essence of the Abyss responded to me, the soldiers acting as extensions of my will.
The first orcs met them head-on. Blades clashed, claws tore through armor, and the smell of scorched flesh mixed with raw magic filled the air. I stepped forward, and the ground beneath my boots darkened, roots snaking out to crush, pierce, and hold anything that came too close.
A high orc swung at me, a massive club aimed at my head. I twisted mid-step, absorbing some of its latent essence with a brush of my arm. The black veins on my skin pulsed, filling me with power and clarity. I struck back, my blade coated in pure Abyssal energy, and the creature fell apart, absorbed into the growing army at my command.
I moved through them, the battlefield bending to me. Every strike, every dodge, every swing of my black blade was Abyssal Combat — the art of devouring, adapting, and evolving in the heat of battle. I could feel my world stretching, expanding. Each orc I absorbed, every bit of their essence, made me stronger. Faster. Sharper.
Ragaroth's laughter echoed over the chaos, high and cold, twisting spells through the air. Fire, lightning, and arcane chains coiled toward me. I stepped through them, letting the Abyss swallow the magic. The air around me warped, black tendrils lashing out, ripping spells apart before they could touch me.
I pushed forward. My soldiers followed. Every movement I made, they mirrored, striking down any high orc foolish enough to stand in our way. The Abyss wasn't just my power. It was mine to command, and they were its instruments.
Ragaroth's eyes widened, realizing his army was falling faster than he could respond. He unleashed a torrent of spellfire directly at me, and for the first time in this portal, I felt… anticipation.
> Good. Let's see what you've got.
The Abyssal World inside me flared. Black roots erupted from the floor, twisting and coiling around incoming fire, devouring the energy, converting it into power. My blade extended slightly, absorbing some of the heat and force of the blast. Every spell became fuel, every attack a lesson.
I struck the first blow toward Ragaroth, the black blade slicing through the air. He met it with a spell shield, but the Abyss pushed against it, not like brute force, but like gravity — irresistible, consuming.
> Every strike you throw… I will understand. Every move you make… I will adapt.
The duel escalated. Each strike, each counter, each movement was a dialogue of essence. The high orcs around us crumbled under my soldiers' coordinated assault. Their screams, their strength, all became part of the Abyss.
And then, just as I disarmed Ragaroth with a sweep of shadow, a figure appeared at the edge of the portal — an investigator from the Inner World Association.
> "Drax… you shouldn't—"
I ignored them. My focus was absolute, but even from the corner of my awareness, I noticed the awe in their stance. The air around them vibrated with suppressed authority and unspoken concern. They had never seen anyone handle a portal like this… and they weren't ready for what I had become.
With a final motion, I struck Ragaroth down. Black energy engulfed him, essence screaming as it was absorbed. His throne cracked and splintered, vanishing into nothingness. The Abyssal World inside me surged, expanding, roots curling higher, new power unfurling like wings.
I felt the culmination of it — All-Father, the essence of dominion, the authority of life and death bending to me. Every being I had consumed, every energy absorbed, all were now extensions of my world.
Ragaroth's soul was dragged into my inner world, no longer a king, no longer the same — reborn as something entirely new under my command.
The investigator stepped closer, hesitation in their eyes. They reached out, and instinctively I flinched — but the gesture wasn't aggression.
> "Drax… the Association… we…"
They paused, then moved forward, hugging me. Tears ran freely.
I tensed for a moment — it was illegal, technically. Ranks like mine weren't supposed to have such treatment. But they didn't hesitate. It was a human reaction, and in that instant, I let it pass.
> They never had to care before. Doesn't mean they have to fear me now.
I stepped back, hands still faintly pulsing with Abyssal energy.
> "Don't get used to it," I said dryly, letting my gaze sweep the ruined throne room. "You only get one chance to see me like this."
The investigator nodded, silent, understanding the weight of what they had just witnessed.
I turned toward the exit of the portal. Outside, Velistra waited. But inside me, the Abyssal World had grown again, stronger, hungrier, and infinitely darker. My soldiers returned to the shadows, standing obediently, waiting for the next command.
> I am Drax Magna. I am the All-Father. And nothing in this world will stop me.
The portal began to collapse behind me, and I stepped out, rain falling over my coat, over my shoulders. Velistra City didn't know what had just happened — no one could.
And I didn't intend to tell them.