Little Pink Starfish

It felt like all the blood in his body had drained out. Clinging to consciousness, Ishar swallowed dryly and forced his mouth to open.

“I will send a relief force immediately, just as you requested. Prioritize the lives of the remaining subjugation forces above all else.”

—“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The moment the transmission cut off, Ishar grabbed a handful of his pale blue hair and yanked it hard. Pain shot from his scalp, and his eyes stung with tears.

Then, reaching beneath his pillow, he pulled out a hidden dagger and drove it into his own palm without hesitation. The metallic scent of blood immediately filled the room.

The cold blade bit into his flesh. The sharp pain that followed was all too real.

“Ah…”

This wasn’t a dream.

It was reality.

The clarity of the pain, the sounds, the sensations—there was no mistaking it. He could not convince himself otherwise.

He raised his head and looked out the window.

Rain continued to fall in the darkness. He fixed his gaze on the storm, listening to the shrieking sound of the wind and rain, and in that moment, realization washed over him like a tidal wave.

I will never forget this moment—this moment when I lost Veloan.

---

At the northernmost edge of the continent, at the place known as the “End of the World,” lay the Abyss—Narakh—divided into an “Inner Zone” and “Outer Zone,” the former protected by the Great Barrier designed by Emperor Eod I of the Lucheist Empire.

Even the Outer Zone had two parts: the region near the Great Barrier was called the Exile’s Zone, while the furthest reaches, cloaked in endless darkness, were known as the Void.

The subjugation forces normally fought monsters in the Exile’s Zone.

In the place where even the northern cold sank into the Abyss, they held the front lines and exterminated monsters, especially during mating season when the creatures grew even more aggressive and climbed up from the depths.

The Krybule unit, which had arrived as the first wave, exceeded all expectations.

Not because they were desperate death-row convicts, but because, under Veloan’s command, they had stopped acting like a scattered mob and formed a disciplined fighting force, like a true knightly order.

Where previous Krybule units often suffered over 50% casualties before reinforcements arrived, this time not a single death occurred.

In fact, by the time the last subjugation unit joined, the majority of the Krybule soldiers were still alive—save for a few.

No matter how grotesque or powerful the monsters, they charged ahead, claimed victory, boosted morale, and became the vanguard of every battle.

That is, until those two monsters appeared.

Previously unseen forms—humanoid with butterfly wings and tentacles (Rasmoth) and a massive spiked creature with toxic quills (Trphros)—attacked the subjugation force together, toying with the humans like it was a game.

It was unprecedented.

These monsters seemed to take pleasure in watching humans fall into despair and die. And toward the end, when the survivors tried to retreat behind the Great Barrier, the beasts smashed it.

Then they herded the humans like sheep, driving them all the way into the Void, killing and mocking them along the way.

Their arrogance was their mistake. Rasmoth suffered a mortal wound from Aster and fled. Trphros was dragged down into the Abyss—by Veloan.

And so now, Ishar stood at the Edge of the Void.

One step forward and he would plunge into endless nothingness. Yet he stood motionless, peering down into the Abyss without a trace of fear.

Crack. Sssst.

Some of the countless glowing mana stones floating like stars around Ishar shattered and blew away in the wind—without leaving a trace.

Without so much as a glance, Ishar reached into his pouch and scattered more stones into the air to sustain the search spell.

Even though he knew his magic would be nullified the moment it crossed the Abyss’s boundary, he kept trying.

Fsssst. Eventually, even the last of the stones vanished. The spell collapsed completely.

Still, Ishar stood firm, eyes fixed downward.

“Your Majesty. It’s time to return.”

“Go back alone.”

Rekayan, who had accompanied Ishar as his escort and endured a week on this icy cliff, frowned at the harsh reply.

A week ago, upon receiving Nykid’s message, Ishar had led the relief force himself. When he arrived at the outskirts of Riccione, where the surviving troops had retreated, he overturned the situation in an instant.

Surrounded by thousands of monsters, he plunged into their center with only a sword and beheaded the most dangerous ones in a single stroke.

The sight of the emperor charging ahead and slaughtering monsters reignited the subjugation force’s fighting spirit. They followed him, driving the beasts all the way to the Void and annihilating them.

When Ishar restored the shattered Great Barrier in moments, any lingering fear among the survivors vanished.

All this took less than half a day.

Rekayan had been thrilled. He thought he’d finally get to fight alongside his liege for a while—a rare opportunity.

But it was a foolish assumption.

The moment the troops were reorganized and Commander Aster began to recover, Ishar handed over command and vanished from the field.

He came here—where Veloan had fallen—and had stood like a gravestone ever since.

He didn’t eat. He barely drank water. He cast search spells day and night without pause.

All to find Veloan.

“Your Majesty, please stop this. It’s meaningless now.”

Rekayan would never normally speak against Ishar. To him, everything his lord did was right.

But not this.

This was past the point of inefficiency—it was closer to self-harm.

“You know your magic is nullified the moment it crosses the cliff.”

There was no response. Rekayan sighed and blasted a monster with a spell as it approached.

“What if Your Majesty falls ill? Can’t you at least rest for one full day?”

“If you’re not going to climb down there and find Veloan yourself, then shut your mouth.”

The voice was even, but the sincerity in it was unmistakable.

Rekayan fell silent.

Only then did Ishar glance at him briefly. Then he bent again, staring into the abyss.

Veloan…

Ishar bit his lip hard.

He knew this was a foolish waste of time and resources.

And yet, he couldn’t give up. He wanted to believe that Veloan hadn’t fallen completely—that he was clinging to a jagged rock, or the back of a crawling beast, waiting to be rescued.

But deep down, he knew.

Veloan had fallen and died.

The magical contract Ishar carved into his own heart to protect Veloan confirmed it.

The Abyss defies the laws of this world. Magic and aura are nullified there.

If Veloan were still alive—if he hadn’t reached the Abyss’s true depths—the contract would still be active in Ishar’s heart.

In the worst case, if Veloan had died and Ishar had failed to protect him, the contract should have ruptured Ishar’s heart on the spot.

But when Crodone attacked Veloan, Ishar had revised the spell’s fail-safes to detect such exceptions.

And now, the fact that Ishar was still breathing confirmed Veloan’s death.

Veloan… how terrified you must have been.

Even now, enhancing his vision with aura and staring into the abyss, he could see nothing but absolute black.

The Abyss—true to its name. A void where no light reached.

The child who once feared the dark had died, swallowed by that unending night.

He must have died before reaching the very bottom. Please… let that be true…

Some believed there was a hell beneath the Abyss’s cliffs, as told in myth.

They believed monsters were born of the sins of damned humans, cast into that hell.

But what lay in the deepest, final layer of the Abyss was far worse.

It was the boundary of the world. Magic didn’t work. Aura didn’t function. All worldly laws broke down.

There, at the very bottom, lived those who had been banished or rejected by this world.

Some were ancient beings who had existed since the dawn of the world and lost their sense of self.

Others, like Eoris, still retained a will of their own.

Any normal being—not someone like Ishar—would be shredded, body and soul, simply by falling and being rejected by the world.

Leaving behind no trace.