On the bustling frozen-earth construction site, a Metal Slime transformed into a giant hammer. With all its might, it drove a thick rivet into a massive log with a CLANG, then bounced off and landed on a roof beam.
It wobbled its body proudly, about to admire its own masterpiece, when it suddenly seemed to sense something. It looked up and let out a confused, metallic hum.
In the lightless night sky, fine snowflakes drifted down silently. Illuminated by the distant glow of the construction site’s gray gravel crystals, they looked like dancing specks of silver dust.
Aside from the sounds of the Slimes hauling materials and hammering rivets, and the howling of the wind and snow, there was nothing else out of the ordinary.
’But why did it feel like something had just flashed overhead?’
The Metal Slime pondered for a moment with its simple mind, then quickly cast the doubt aside.
’Whatever.’
It lowered its head again, staring at the rivet it had just hammered in. The more it looked, the more satisfied it became.
The rivet was embedded perfectly flush, its position precise. The force of the strike had been just right, without causing even the slightest bit of unnecessary deformation.
’Such perfect riveting. It’s a masterpiece! If I tell the others down below, they’ll definitely worship me for it.’
On a nearby snow dune, a nearly nonexistent figure stirred slightly. Abaddon glanced at the Metal Slime that seemed to have noticed the slight disturbance.
’I have to admit, the Slimes here are far more intelligent than I imagined. They seem quite different from the rumored low-level ooze creatures that can do nothing but wriggle.’
However, he had no interest in this worthless "little thing" that could potentially expose his presence.
In an instant, his figure blurred once more. With a few silent leaps, he crossed several hundred meters and approached the castle within the Crystal Ball.
Watching the Slimes carrying cargo in and out of the castle, Abaddon grew more certain. This castle, which seemed to exist independently of the Snowfield, was definitely not simple. It had to be hiding some secret of the Slime Kingdom.
His gaze swept over the Spirit Body Chains extending from the castle.
’Furthermore, rift growth on this scale can’t be caused by a random surge of Magic Power. What’s more, these planar rifts, anchored by the strange chains extending from the castle, are even more stable than I anticipated.’
’If this technology could be used to open and maintain Abyssal Rifts, the Demon Legion could descend anywhere on the continent at will. They wouldn’t have to stay holed up in Golden Glow Valley, relying on costly temporary summons and blood sacrifice rituals.’
This was undoubtedly a piece of secret intelligence with immense strategic value.
As for whether he would report this intelligence truthfully to Casaric... a cold smile flashed across Abaddon’s shadow-wreathed face.
’That will depend on whether the payment of souls Lord Casaric is willing to offer is delicious enough.’
He was not one of Casaric’s subordinates. From a human perspective, an Abyssal Wanderer like him was more like a mercenary.
There were not many Shadow Demons in the Abyss, but every single one was a natural-born master Assassin.
They were born in the Abyss’s darkest, most chaotic vortexes of energy and pools of settled negative emotion. Their bodies were composed of pure shadow and malice, possessing no fixed physical form, allowing them to change shape at will to blend into any dark environment.
They had a near-instinctual affinity for and control over Shadow Energy, making them natural-born stalkers, assassins, and intelligence thieves.
However, for this very reason, Shadow Demons were often ostracized, feared, and even treated with hostility by other Demon species in the Abyss. They found it difficult to integrate into any established Demon Legion or serve under any one lord.
Thus, the vast majority of Shadow Demons ultimately chose to become solitary Abyssal Wanderers.
They served any Great Demon, lord, or even human faction that required their services—stealing confidential intelligence, assassinating important targets, and carrying out all manner of unsavory tasks.
They would appear anywhere, so long as the client could pay a price they found satisfactory.
Abaddon was one of them.
He spent his years walking the border between the Abyss and the Prime Material Plane, assassinating countless enemies. His targets included Kings of Human Kingdoms, Great Mages guarding their towers, entrenched Demon Lords, and even Great Demons from other abyssal factions. He was victorious every time, having never once truly failed.
He had used his Shadow Ability to enter and exit countless perilous places—repeatedly infiltrating the territories of Demon Lords, wandering the underground labyrinths of Kabul, even casually strolling through the back gardens of the Elves. Even when directly facing an encirclement by the Holy Hammer Dwarves of the White Tower City-State, he could rely on his instinctual Shadow Ability to escape with ease.
In the Abyss, and within the Extraordinary Circle that knew of his existence, "Silent Reaper" Abaddon was practically a synonym for "success" and "lethal."
’Shadow Demons are ostracized and feared by other Demons because of their special powers, but that only serves to prove their strength. And I, Abaddon, am the best among them.’
’It’s just a castle that survived in a crack of the material plane. Compared to the other dangerous places I’ve been, this place is nothing special.’
’In my eyes, it poses no threat at all.’
Abaddon stood silently in the shadows outside the castle, observing for a long while. He began to grasp the patterns of the Slimes’ entry and exit, as well as the rhythm of the Magic Power fluctuations around the castle’s perimeter.
Then, he moved.
Without any warning, his figure seemed to transform into an invisible breeze, or a shadow moving naturally under the sun, and drifted right into the Light Gate leading into the Crystal Ball.
He caused no disturbance whatsoever. At least, that’s what he believed.