"The Abyssal Warlord: Berserker of Twin Calamities"

The iron gate clanged shut behind Orian with a finality that gnawed at his bones.

The corridor stretched endlessly ahead, lit only by flickering lanterns mounted on rusted hooks. Chains rattled faintly as other slaves shuffled forward, their eyes hollow and lifeless. Orian kept his head down, muscles tensed beneath the weight of cold iron cuffs. His skin, marred by bruises and old scars, gleamed faintly under the dim light.

The Black Market loomed ahead like the maw of some great beast. Unlike the damp stone pits where fights to the death were commonplace, the market was a sprawling underworld of crime and twisted commerce. Tunnels weaved in chaotic patterns beneath the ruins of old cities, where society's rot festered in the dark.

The auction house stood at the center, a towering fortress of black iron and crimson banners stitched with the sigil of chained hands.

"Move faster, filth." A guard shoved Orian from behind, forcing him forward through the entrance.

As the guard urged Orian to move faster, Orian thought the only reason he couldn't awaken class and system was that he wasn't able to.

Now, he cannot complain about his situation or the way he was treated.

Inside, the air hung heavy with the scent of sweat, blood, and opulence. Dim torchlight revealed a circular arena, ringed by tiered seating filled with cloaked figures. Wealthy nobles, crime lords, and mercenaries gathered here, murmuring among themselves as they inspected the human wares displayed in metal cages.

Orian's eyes swept the chamber. Slaves knelt behind iron bars, some trembling, others unresponsive to their fate. A few met his gaze—some with pity, others with envy. Those with awakened classes, even minor ones, were treated as prized commodities. The rest, like him, were discarded without thought.

In dim light room suddenly lighted where a tall man was standing on the stage. He caught the attention of the crowd.

The auctioneer—a thin man draped in red silks—strode into the arena, raising a gnarled cane. His voice cut through the restless murmurs.

"Tonight, we offer something… special." The auctioneer's grin stretched unnaturally wide. "A fighter with no system, no class… yet he survived the Abyssal Wretch with nothing but his bare hands. A rarity, indeed!"

Murmurs surged through the crowd, cloaked figures leaning forward with curiosity. Orian clenched his fists, his wrists straining against the cuffs.

He wasn't afraid.

But the thought of being paraded like livestock filled him with simmering rage.

"Let's start the bidding at fifty gold coins!" the auctioneer called, his cane tapping the ground.

The bids began to rise. Sixty. Seventy-five. A voice in the back raised it to ninety, though most seemed skeptical.

And then—

"One hundred and fifty coins," a familiar voice echoed from the upper tiers.

Orian's head snapped upward, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of a figure stepping out of the shadows. The flickering torches revealed a tall man clad in mage robes, his long silver hair tucked beneath a hood.

Elias.

Orian's heart pounded in his chest. His closest friend. The only person who had stood beside him during the days before the Dark Star's descent.

"What's a mage doing here?" someone whispered in the crowd.

The auctioneer recovered quickly, grinning wider. "One hundred and fifty crowns going once, twice—sold! To the distinguished mage in the balcony."

The guards dragged Orian from the platform, pushing him down the corridor that led to the underground holding cells. As the crowd dispersed, Elias met him in the lower chambers, his expression calm, unreadable.

Orian's throat tightened. "You're… here. Why?"

Elias's gaze swept over him, lingering on the bruises that marred Orian's skin. "I told you before, Orian. Some sacrifices must be made to claim power."

A cold chill seeped into Orian's bones as he realized something wasn't right.

His best friend hadn't come to save him.

He had come to buy him.

The two stood in silence, the flickering lantern casting shadows over Elias's impassive face. Orian clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. "What does that mean, Elias?" he demanded, his voice trembling with disbelief.

Elias folded his arms, leaning against the cold stone wall. "You always lacked ambition, Orian. This world—" he gestured around them, "—it belongs to those willing to seize it. I tried to warn you, but you wouldn't listen. Now, I need you for something greater."

"Greater?" Orian's voice rose, a spark of fury igniting in his chest. "You stood beside me when the world crumbled. We fought to survive together. I trusted you. And now you think you can throw me into the fire for power?"

Elias's eyes narrowed, but there was no malice in them—only cold pragmatism. "It's not personal. I respect you, Orian. That's why I chose you. When the time comes, you'll understand."

Orian stepped closer, the chains around his wrists jangling. "You've already made your choice, Elias. Don't pretend this is respect."

Seeing Orian's determined look Elias left without arguing further with him.

Orian watched his old friend walk away further with each step until he was left alone in a dark, lonely prison.

After an hour two guards came armed with weapons, one of them came forward opened the gate of the prison, and grabbed the chains of the cuff on Orian's hand.

He was forcefully dragged to walk without knowing the destination after walking for a while Orian and the guards left the underground prison. In the front, a sealed wagon came into their sight.

When they reach closer to the wagon the guard who holds Orian's chain puts some strength in his arms and sends Orian flying in the wagon.

Orian got hit by the wagon's wall and let out a pained groan the injuries of the previous battle were taking a toll on to recover and now the guard was adding new bruises on his body.

But he cannot complain, he stares the guard in hatred.

In response guard said in a cold yet arrogant voice, "Hmph! Be grateful that you are sold off or your eyes were gauged by me for giving such a stare.

Even hearing such a threat Orian didn't take off his stare on him, guard was not bothered by this mere slave action.

After the guards left, the wagon started to move to an unknown destination. Orian didn't know where his friend was taking him, and from his previous looks, he was hiding something for sure.

But he couldn't shake off the thought of why he came looking for him. When he was clearly aware he couldn't awaken class nor awaken the system. Elias must have a reason.

Lost in thought to find an answer or calming his mind to believe that his friend came to save him. Suddenly, the wagon stopped and Elias also left his carriage and walked some step forward; before entering the old facility.

Elias gives his command to the guards, "Bring Orian and the rest of you will guard the entrance," said in dominance. Guards immadiately did as they were ordered and Elias waited until Orian joined him.

In this old facility there were some dangers lurking around this place. So, Elias take Orian to the passage of the tunnels.

They walked in silence through the underground tunnels, Orian trailing just behind Elias.

"I thought you were dead," Orian said quietly. "You disappeared after the first wave hit. I waited for you."

Elias didn't respond. His eyes never left the path ahead, even as they descended deeper into the facility.

The stone walls grew colder. Torches became sparse. As they entered a large chamber, Orian's eyes adjusted to the dark, revealing a massive circular pit at the center.

Cages lined the far wall, filled with others—like him.

"Soon..." The voice whispered again, faint but undeniable. It was not the slaver's voice or that of his fellow prisoners. It came from within.

A few slaves were being led, one by one, toward a narrow tunnel that curved into total blackness.

Their screams followed soon after.

"Elias," Orian whispered, "what is this place?"

Elias turned to him at last. His eyes burned with something Orian couldn't place—resolve, or perhaps regret.

"I'm sorry, Orian. This is the only way."

"What are you talking about?" Orian's chains rattled as he stepped back. "You freed me. Why bring me here?"

A crack formed, snaking across the street. The air grew heavier Elias raised a hand, and the chains binding Orian's wrists glowed faintly, releasing him. But the freedom felt hollow. The pit loomed before them, the air thick with something ancient and wrong.

"I can't awaken my true class," Elias said, his voice trembling slightly. "The system offered me an alternative... but it required sacrifice."

Orian froze. The pieces fell into place. The slaves—their screams. The pit.

"Elias... no."

Orian stared, but unlike the others, fear did not grip him. Instead, the heat in his chest intensified.

Before Orian could react, chains of dark mana erupted from Elias's palm, binding him once more. The ground beneath the pit rumbled as sacrificial glyphs lit up along the stone.

"Take it... Let it out.""I had to choose someone I shared a bond with," Elias said quietly. "I never wanted it to be you. But there's no other way."

His lips curled into a faint smile. The chains binding his wrists began to melt, dripping like molten metal.

The flames erupted from the glyphs, circling Orian in spirals of crimson fire.

Tonight, the abyss would see fire.

Orian's eyes narrowed. The heat seared his skin, but it could not burn the hatred rising within him. Betrayal tightened around his heart like a vice.

"You were my brother," Orian growled through gritted teeth, glaring at Elias. "I trusted you."

Elias averted his gaze. "Forgive me."

But forgiveness was a distant thing in Orian's heart. As the flames consumed him, something deeper stirred—a force that slumbered within his very soul.

A flash of scales.

Crimson horns.

The whispers of two ancient gods.

"Burn it all."

The flames twisted and shifted, but it was not Elias's magic that shaped them now. It was Orian's rage, intertwining with the dormant power of the Dragon God and Demon God.

As the ritual continued, Elias watched in horror.

The sacrifice was not proceeding as planned.