Ascension of the Abyss*

The wind carried the distant howls of unseen creatures, rustling the treetops as the moonlight filtered through the dense canopy. In the clearing, the clash of steel against wood rang out like a steady drumbeat.

Alex panted heavily, his grip tightening around his spear as he lunged again. His movements were sharper, his instincts keener. He had begun to recognize the way Roderic shifted his stance before striking, the slight pulse of Essence that flared before each attack.

This time, when Roderic moved, Alex dodged.

Only barely—but he dodged.

Roderic's sword sliced through the air inches from his face, the silver glow of his Essence dispersing as the attack missed its mark. There was no change in his expression, but Alex knew the truth—he had surprised him.

Roderic recovered instantly, pivoting with a downward slash toward his shoulder. Alex felt it—not just with his eyes, but with something deeper. He twisted his spear, parrying just before the blade connected. The impact rattled his arms, but he held firm.

He didn't stumble.

He didn't fall.

Roderic stepped back, watching him with careful eyes. Alex was learning fast. Too fast. His movements were still unrefined, but his body was adapting at an unnatural pace. This wasn't normal progression. It was the kind of growth only a genius possessed.

Yet Roderic said nothing, only pressed forward again.

"Don't get cocky," he warned, closing the distance.

Alex steadied himself, knowing better than to believe he had closed the gap between them. Roderic was still toying with him. But for the first time, he wasn't just fighting for survival. He was understanding. Each exchange sharpened him, every strike deepened his awareness.

They continued for another half-hour, Alex dodging, countering, striking. Each time Roderic knocked him down, he got back up faster. Sweat dripped from his forehead, but his body felt alive. His muscles ached, but his mind was clearer than it had ever been. Something stirred inside him.

Roderic noticed it too.

The air around Alex felt charged, a presence unseen lingering beneath his skin, faint yet growing stronger. It was time to push him further.

With a sigh, Roderic stepped away and reached into his pack, pulling out a small, worn leather-bound book. He tossed it to Alex, who caught it instinctively, blinking at the unexpected gift.

"What's this?"

Roderic sat down on a nearby rock, resting his sword against his knee. "A Codex Manual. Basic Essence Control."

Alex flipped it open, eyes scanning the inked diagrams inside—detailed drawings of the human body, mapping the flow of Essence and its Energy Center. His gaze caught on a passage describing how to gather and condense Essence within oneself.

"Right now, your Essence is leaking. Unfocused," Roderic continued. "That's why you can't use battle techniques properly yet. This manual will teach you control. Your goal is to pull Essence into your Energy Center and condense it. Once you can hold a solid ball of Essence there without losing it, you'll have reached Novice rank."

Alex's fingers tightened on the book. "How long does that take?"

Roderic smirked. "Some take months. Some take years. That depends on you."

Alex exhaled, flipping through the manual again. He had seen what Essence could do—how it turned Roderic into an unstoppable force. If this was the next step, then he would master it, no matter how long it took.

"Practice every night," Roderic instructed. "Feel the energy in your body. Guide it, don't force it. And when you can hold it without losing control, you'll be ready for real training."

Alex nodded, settling himself beneath a tree with the book as Roderic walked away.

The night stretched on, the wind whispering through the leaves as the others drifted into sleep. He tried meditating, following the instructions, reaching inward for his Essence. It was there—faint, elusive. Each time he tried to grasp it, it scattered like mist.

His frustration simmered beneath his skin. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus, but just as exhaustion began to creep in—everything changed.

The air thickened. The silence grew oppressive.

The whisper returned.

"You truly mean to use such garbage techniques?"

A cold shiver ran down Alex's spine. His hands trembled slightly as the voice curled around his mind like smoke.

"Those who walk the Abyss have no need for such crude, diluted scraps. I shall grant you what is yours."

A weight bloomed in his chest. Something shifted inside him, something rewrote itself. The Codex Manual in his hands burned away in silent, black flames—disintegrating into nothing. But before he could react, something new replaced it.

It wasn't physical. It was imprinted directly into his mind.

His breathing came faster. "What… is this?" he whispered, his fingers twitching as if trying to grasp something unseen.

The weight of the knowledge imprinted in his mind was suffocating, yet intoxicating. He could feel it—layered instructions, techniques beyond anything he had ever seen. It was as if the very fabric of Essence had been rewritten inside him, and he wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

He waited, his pulse hammering, hoping for the whisper to return. To explain. To reassure.

But there was nothing.

Only silence.

Only the wind.

Morning arrived too quickly. The Iron Fangs packed up their camp, the air heavy with an unspoken tension. The ride back to Riverend was steady but subdued. Even Felix, usually the first to fill the silence with some half-amused remark, remained uncharacteristically quiet.

Alex kept to himself, the weight of the new knowledge pressing against his thoughts like a secret itching to be spoken. He needed answers—needed to make sense of what had happened.

After a while, he nudged his horse slightly closer to Roderic's, lowering his voice as he spoke.

"Is there a ranking system for Codex Manuals?"

Roderic gave him a sidelong glance, raising a brow at the question. "You're taking this seriously," he observed, but when Alex didn't respond, his smirk faded. He exhaled through his nose, adjusting his reins as he considered his words.

"Yeah, there are tiers. Each grade of Codex Manual isn't just about knowledge—it's about how much Essence you can draw into yourself and how pure that Essence becomes."

He gestured toward the air as if grasping something unseen.

"A Common Manual stabilizes what you already have. It's crude, inefficient, and limits your growth."

"An Advanced Manual changes that. You stop leaking power and start storing it properly. But even then, the quality of Essence you refine is still low."

"A High-Grade Manual doesn't just refine Essence; it purifies it. The difference is like drinking river water versus pure spring water. With a High-Grade Manual, your body starts transforming, adapting to handle Essence at a level ordinary warriors can't even comprehend."

Alex's mind raced. That explained why just feeling the new knowledge last night had made his body ache, why it felt as though something inside him had shifted entirely.

He finally spoke. "And beyond that?"

Roderic hesitated. "Very few people ever see a Grandmaster Manual. Grandmaster Codexes don't just purify Essence. They elevate it. Once you reach this stage, you're redefining the very Essence that enters your body."

Alex's fingers twitched on his reins. He knew the whisper's gift had done something beyond that.

"And above Grandmaster?"

Roderic's expression darkened. "The Forbidden Codexes."

Before Alex could ask more, the air suddenly grew heavy. The world dimmed. A pressure settled over them, unnatural and suffocating. Alex felt the hairs on his arms stand on end.

His horse stopped moving.

The others reacted instantly, years of mercenary instincts sharpening in an instant. Roderic raised a hand, signaling the group to halt.

"Something's not right," he muttered.

The trees ahead darkened unnaturally, as if the sunlight had been swallowed whole. From the shadows, a figure emerged.

They moved with slow, deliberate steps, their form draped in a dark, mist-like cloak that shifted unnaturally, as though it were alive. The air warped around them, the very Essence in the surroundings bending to their presence.

Every instinct in Alex's body screamed at him to run.

Roderic's expression darkened. "And who exactly are you supposed to be?"

"A collector," the figure said simply.

Alex felt his pulse quicken, his breath caught as the pressure intensified. The sheer density of Essence rolling off this person was suffocating. It wasn't just power—it was control, refined to a terrifying degree. Then the figure's head tilted slightly, their hidden gaze locking onto him.

For a split second, something flickered in Alex's mind. Chains. Blood. A name—familiar, yet lost in the fog of his memories.

The figure's voice dropped to something barely above a whisper.

"You're still incomplete. No wonder they haven't moved yet. Become stronger child of the abyss"

The words sent ice through Alex's veins. His breath hitched, something deep inside him recoiling.

And then, in an instant, the figure was gone.

The pressure lifted, the forest returning to normal as if nothing had happened. But the weight of their presence lingered.

No one spoke for several moments. Then Roderic exhaled sharply. "We ride. Now."

No one argued.

As they galloped toward Riverend, Gareth finally broke the silence. "That wasn't normal."

"No," Roderic agreed. "It wasn't." He was quiet for a moment before adding, "He was commanding the elemental Essence of shadow. That means he's at least Rank 4—Elite or higher."

Felix let out a string of curses. "You're saying we were just face-to-face with an Elite?"

Roderic's grip on his reins tightened. "We were face-to-face with something much worse."

Alex remained silent. Because deep inside, something coiled within him.

That wouldn't be the last time he saw the Collector.

And next time, it wouldn't be a warning.