4.

Lucian stood at the heart of the Abyssal Citadel, a vast open chamber with towering black pillars that disappeared into the shadows above. Around him, ancient glyphs glowed faintly on the floor, forming a complex pattern designed to contain the power that would soon be unleashed. The air was thick with tension, as if the very walls of the Citadel were holding their breath in anticipation of what was to come.

Kethor, the chief summoner, was already at work, his hands weaving through the air as he chanted in a language that felt alien and wrong on Lucian's ears. The words vibrated through the chamber, resonating with the dark energy that pulsed beneath the surface. Lucian could feel the power building, growing with each passing moment as Kethor's voice rose in intensity.

Around the summoning circle, a ring of shadowy figures—mages, warriors, and advisors—watched in silence, their faces hidden beneath their hoods. These were the elite of the Abyssal Domain, the ones who had witnessed countless displays of the Abyssal Lord's power. They were here to witness the rebirth of that power, to see if Lucian could truly live up to the legacy he now inherited.

Lucian could feel their eyes on him, their doubt like a weight pressing on his chest. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. He had no choice but to prove himself. The creatures of the Abyss were powerful, unpredictable, and terrifying. They answered only to the true Abyssal Lord, and Lucian had yet to prove to them—or to anyone—that he could command them.

They will bend to you, or they will be destroyed, the voice of the previous Abyssal Lord whispered in his mind. The Abyss takes no prisoners. Show them you are worthy of their fear.

Lucian's hands clenched into fists at his sides. He wasn't sure how much longer he could endure the presence of the former Abyssal Lord's essence, constantly whispering dark thoughts in his mind. But for now, he needed the guidance, no matter how twisted it was.

Kethor's voice reached a fevered pitch, and the glyphs on the floor flared with an intense, crimson light. The air crackled with dark energy, and Lucian could feel the pressure in the room spike as if the very fabric of reality was being torn apart. The shadows around the chamber began to twist and writhe, taking on monstrous forms that flickered in and out of existence.

The summoning was nearing its climax.

With a final, guttural word, Kethor brought his hands together in a sharp motion, and the ground beneath the summoning circle split open. From the gaping void that appeared, a dark mist began to rise, swirling with malevolent intent. The creatures of the Abyss were awakening.

Lucian's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the mist coalesce into solid forms. They emerged slowly at first, massive and grotesque, their bodies twisted by the very essence of the Abyss. The first creature was a hulking beast with obsidian skin and eyes like burning coals. Its jagged teeth gleamed in the dim light as it let out a low, rumbling growl that shook the walls of the Citadel.

Behind it came more—dozens of monstrous forms, each more terrifying than the last. Winged horrors with sharp talons, serpentine beasts with multiple heads, and shadowy figures that moved with an unnatural grace. These were the creatures of the Abyss, the true monsters that had fought alongside the Abyssal Lord in countless battles, and they were here to test Lucian's resolve.

Do not falter now, the voice urged. They will not respect hesitation. They will only respect power.

Lucian stepped forward, his body tensing as he felt the weight of their gaze settle on him. The largest of the creatures—the hulking beast with burning eyes—snarled as it locked eyes with him, and for a moment, Lucian felt the overwhelming urge to step back. But he couldn't show weakness. Not here. Not now.

With a deep breath, Lucian focused inward, reaching for the dark power that swirled within him. It felt like a storm raging just beneath the surface, wild and untamed, but it was his. He had to master it. He had to show these creatures, and everyone else watching, that he was the true Abyssal Lord.

The power surged through him, and Lucian's eyes burned with a dark crimson light. His voice, when he spoke, was no longer entirely his own—it was deeper, more commanding, laced with the essence of the Abyss.

"Kneel."

The word echoed through the chamber, filled with the weight of authority. The creatures hesitated, their movements slowing as they gauged him. The largest of them, the hulking beast, snarled again, its massive body tensing as if ready to charge.

Lucian held its gaze, refusing to back down. He could feel the power thrumming in his veins, and he let it flow outward, filling the room with a palpable sense of danger. The shadows around him deepened, twisting unnaturally, as if responding to his will. The beast's growl faltered, and slowly, reluctantly, it lowered itself to the ground.

One by one, the other creatures followed suit, their massive forms sinking to the floor in submission. The sight was both awe-inspiring and terrifying—dozens of Abyssal monstrosities, kneeling before him.

Lucian's heart raced, but he kept his expression cold and impassive. Inside, he was reeling from the power he had just wielded. It had been almost instinctual, as if the Abyss itself had responded to his command. He hadn't fully understood what he was doing, but it had worked. For now, he had control.

Kethor, who had been watching in silence, stepped forward, his head bowed in reverence. "The creatures of the Abyss acknowledge your command, Lord Abyssal," he said, his voice filled with awe. "They are yours to lead."

Lucian nodded, trying to maintain his composure. "Good," he said, his voice still carrying that dark edge. "They will be needed soon."

He turned away from the creatures, his thoughts racing. This was only the beginning. If the Shadow Realm and Fire Realm were plotting against the Abyssal Domain, he would need every ounce of power at his disposal to defend it. And now, he had the creatures of the Abyss at his command. But commanding them was one thing—controlling them was another. He could feel the raw hunger in their eyes, the barely restrained violence lurking just beneath the surface.

For now, they obeyed. But Lucian knew that obedience was fragile in a place like this. He would have to constantly prove his strength, not just to the creatures, but to everyone around him. The moment they sensed weakness, everything would unravel.

As the summoned creatures were led back into the depths by Kethor's mages, Lucian felt the weight of his new position settle even more heavily on his shoulders. This was no mere title. Being the Abyssal Lord meant holding power that could consume him if he let it. It meant ruling over forces that would destroy him if he faltered.

You have taken the first step, the voice whispered. But there is much more to come. War is inevitable, and you will be tested again and again. Only the strongest can rule the Abyss. Remember that.

Lucian's eyes burned as he watched the creatures disappear into the shadows. He would remember. He had no choice. Because in this world, only the strong survived.