Garden Of The Abyss

Chapter 384 - Imminent Battle, A Woeful Greeting

"Bifrons?" He looked.

The black cat remained silent for a few moments before speaking, "This will be our official goodbye, Ren Nakamura. It is the duty of at least one of the participants' attendants boarding the ship to inform you of the nature of the final floor."

He wasn't exactly pleased to see the enigmatic, black cat as he kept his hand at his sword--a gesture that Bifrons simply smiled at as his tail waved in the abyssal air.

"It's the same as the other two floors right? Just find the floor guardian and kick his butt; simply as that," He replied.

Bifrons shook his head slowly, flicking his sable tail, "Not quite so."

The high elf lowered his staff as he stepped forward to approach the envoy of Purgatory, looking down at the cat.

"Explain," Fedrin insisted.

A smirk persisted across the mystical feline's expression, "Gladly; that's why I'm here after all. You see, the third floor, more aptly named "The Stretch of Dread" is different from what you've experienced so far. There is no destination you must reach, at least in the traditional sense. No guardian awaits you. Simply...you must survive for thirty days."

"Survive for thirty days? That doesn't sound so bad," Ren muttered.

--But, of course, things were never so simple--that much he realized by the mischievous glint in the cat's eyes.

"What's the catch?" Fedrin asked.

Bifrons remained wordless for a moment before answering with words that settled on those in the boat like maledictions, "...The Pact of Undying is revoked henceforth; there will not be any second chances in a fateful meeting with death."

"What?!" Fedrin's eyes widened.

The snowy-haired young man felt his skin run over with a chill, "You can't be serious…!"

Even as he stammered those words out from his throat tightened by dread, he knew it was the truth.

"...Thirty days without dying? I'm guessing that's not all there is to it, is there?" Jae-Seong said, finally entering the conversation as he slowly stood up.

Bifrons nodded, "How perceptive of you. There are indeed two more features of this floor: first, mana can't be restored naturally--you may only replenish it by means of consuming mana-dense nutrients, or by finding potions scattered around the Stretch of Dread."

It was almost as daunting as the realization of their own mortality within the realm--hearing that mana was strictly limited.

What the hell…?! That's not fair at all! He thought.

"...And the last feature?" Fedrin asked with sweat clinging to his pores.

Only the rocking of the shoddy, small boat against the unsettlingly still, black waters filled their ears as the cat took a moment to respond.

"You may reduce the time you need to survive here by five days if you should eliminate another participant," Bifrons answered.

The only thought he could think from this news was akin to "as expected"--as dreadful as it was, that was the way Purgatory was; there was no avoiding it.

"Now, I am strictly forbidden to answer any questions you may have, so I suppose this is our last goodbye," Bifrons' words mostly aimed themselves at the young man, "however, let me bestow you one last token of advice: aim to retrieve as many of the scattered magical tools as you can find. They will be invaluable in your fight here. Good luck--you will all need it."

With those parting words, the mystical cat vanished into particles of darkness that perfectly fit in with the abyssal realm around them.

Once more, it was only the subtle waves that knocked against the sides of the boat that bore any noise for their eardrums.

"Well...that's a lot," he sighed, slumping down against the wood of the boat.

Fedrin shared the same sentiment, sitting down across from the young man, "...I have to agree. I knew the last floor of Purgatory would be an arduous one, but this is something else entirely."

With nothing left to do but wait, they remained seated on the murky, croaking boat as it sailed over the dreadful, black sea.

Minutes passed without any inkling of time passing by or distance being gained; it all looked the same in the vast realm of darkness--a fact that already began to chip at his nerves.

This is agonizing, he thought, I want to meet with the others already--

As his thoughts flowed, they met a sudden stopping point as a loud hum traversed the stretch of stygian.

All three men shared the same, surprised look in their eyes--stopping and listening before a more potent, acute sound repeated--this time a bang resembling the pound of a drum.

As they stood up on the rocky boat to find the source of the ominous drumming, their eyes met in unison with its origin--bestowing a paralyzing stillness to their lips at the otherworldly sight before them.

It was headed straight in the direction of their meager vessel; a proper, colossal ship slithering across the black seas, clad in grime-laden wood and reinforced by dark steel. Representing its status among the abyssal seas, the ship flaunted a black flag, bearing the symbol of a messily-drawn skull and crossbones.

"A ship…?" Fedrin muttered.

"It's heading straight for us," Jae-Seong released in a contempt-filled breath.

Once more, the sounding of the drums that roared with malice vibrated the stygian waters that surrounded them.

As they watched cautiously, a figure inhabiting the enigmatic ship walked atop the colossal figurehead of the ship that resembled a horned skeleton. Armor of stygian steel was clad to the bulky, towering figure--though it became clear that it wasn't a human--that much was obvious by the large tusks that curved up from its bottom jaw.

"Fresh meat is on the menu! Prepare for battle!" The figure roared out, raising his battle-ax high.

Following this proclamation from the distant figure standing at the forefront of the ship's bow, a mixture of battle cries resounded like the howls of violence incarnate.

Cementing the contract of bloodshed, a war-horn parted the stale, cold winds to commence the prospect of battle.

"...What the hell are they?" Ren muttered.

The high elf gulped, maintaining his composure, "Orcs. Though I've seldom seen any that can use our language. On that same note...they normally aren't equipped with such armor; let alone seen manning such a ship."

"Is there any point in questioning such things now?" Jae-Seong smiled, "Purgatory never makes it easy. Looks like we'll be a little late catching up with the others. Better us than them, right?"

"I'd venture to say it's an arrogant way of thinking, but...not a bad thought process," Fedrin replied.

"...He's right. I'd rather it be us that has to deal with this. There's no way I could handle sitting back while they fight…" Ren muttered.

Jae-Seong smirked at his words, nudging the young man, "Worried about your girl?"

A small blush formed on his cheeks, but he didn't deny it as he nodded with a look of resolve in his eyes, "Of course I am!"