Abyssal Relic

Robb stood in front of Blake's Exchange, staring at the worn-out, cracked wooden sign that still hung unsteadily above the door.

The damp air, unique to the Black Mist Forest, had caused green-blue moss to sprout along the sign's edges, adding a strangely eerie atmosphere to this gloomy place.

"Welcome! Welcome! Esteemed Master Robb!"

A short, plump slave merchant burst out of the store with surprising speed. His round face flushed red, and sweat streamed down his thick cheeks, soaking his collar.

The tiny eyes sunken in folds of fat gleamed with cunning, clearly expecting this potion master's visit.

"Your presence today brings unparalleled glory to my humble establishment!"

The merchant bowed low in an overly theatrical, almost ridiculous gesture of flattery.

Robb keenly noticed that compared to last time, the merchant's attitude was significantly more respectful.

It was likely due to his official status as a potion master being recognized within the Order, and his recent promotion to the wizard reserve ranks. This made the shrewd merchant take him much more seriously.

"I'm here to see that batch of new stock you mentioned."

Robb got straight to the point, his voice calm but carrying undeniable authority.

"You came at the perfect time! It's practically fate!"

The short merchant rubbed his hands together, plastering on a servile grin so wide his eyes nearly disappeared into slits.

"A fresh shipment of premium goods just arrived yesterday. We haven't even finished unpacking yet. I guarantee you'll be amazed, they're the finest quality available on the market!"

As they passed through a gaudy but clearly cheap-looking front hall, Robb noticed several fully armored guards stationed inside the exchange, a new addition since his last visit.

They stood watchfully in the corners, hands on sword hilts, eyes coldly sweeping over every entering and exiting customer.

Clearly, the arrival of large monthly shipments had prompted tighter security.

The merchant led Robb down a dim corridor lined with rows of iron-barred cages. Inside were all kinds of extraordinary creatures.

Unlike last time, the creatures in these cages were visibly more savage, each one radiating a palpable sense of danger.

The air reeked of a strange mixture of blood, beast musk, and pungent alchemical agents, making Robb instinctively frown.

"Right this way, Master Robb. These are our latest featured products, a batch of carefully selected combat slaves."

The merchant boasted, motioning for two burly workers to open a heavy iron door and lead Robb into a specially reinforced area.

The cages here were clearly much sturdier, made from several inches of fine steel and inscribed with suppression runes.

The spacing between the cages was wider too, clearly to prevent the "merchandise" from making contact with one another.

This whole section was noticeably colder than outside, and the air carried an oppressive stillness.

In the first cage stood a hulking creature nearly two meters tall. Its upper body was mostly humanoid but covered in thick, deep-blue scales that gleamed with a metallic sheen.

Its head, however, was that of a giant fish, with a gaping mouth filled with three rows of jagged, knife-like teeth. A deep red tongue flicked in and out rapidly.

Its arms had transformed into fin-like claws, each finger ending in sharp bone spines.

Upon seeing Robb, the fish-headed monster let out a low growl. Its scales instantly stood on end, forming rows of tiny spikes.

"A deep-sea hybrid, Master Robb," the merchant said proudly.

"This one's a crossbreed between a human and an abyssal fishman. It can fight equally well on land and in water. Its skin is as hard as steel, and it possesses an incredible regeneration ability, I've personally seen it recover from losing half its body in under a day!"

He paused and lowered his voice:

"The most terrifying part? It has a unique talent called Scorching Blood. In the heat of battle, it can cause its opponent's blood to burn inside their veins, inflicting unbearable pain. It's nearly unbeatable in the arena!"

Robb studied the creature carefully. With his Extraordinary Appraisal ability, he could tell this was indeed a highly modified hybrid.

The fusion between fishman and human genes was remarkably stable, with far fewer physical deformities than one might expect.

But he also noticed a glaring flaw: the creature's mental core showed unstable energy fluctuations, like a volcano ready to erupt.

In this state, the creature could go berserk at any time, posing a deadly threat to both itself and its master.

"I must say, this kind of crude bloodline mixing results in severe mental risks."

Robb spoke bluntly, his tone calm and clinical:

"I can tell its mind is already breaking down. Judging by the frequency of its energy pulses, I doubt it will last more than two years. And in high-intensity combat, it could completely lose control at any moment."

The merchant's expression shifted, surprised by how precisely Robb had pinpointed the issue.

But he quickly recovered and forced a smile, clearly prepared for such a scenario:

"Master Robb, your eye for detail is truly extraordinary! You're absolutely right. These high-grade combat slaves do carry some instability. That's why their prices are so 'reasonable' despite their power."

He waddled closer and lowered his voice:

"But rest assured, we offer a one-year quality guarantee on all slaves. If anything happens, you may exchange it for another of equal value. We also sell special stabilizing potions that can significantly extend their usability."

Robb gave a slight nod but didn't show much interest. He moved on to the next cage.

Ahead, an even more grotesque creature came into view.

It had the muscular body of a werewolf, covered in thick, dark-gray fur. But portions of its body were covered with black insect-like carapaces, forming natural armor at key points.

Its claws were unusually long and razor-sharp, glinting with a metallic sheen that looked capable of slicing through steel.

Most disturbingly, its back had split open, revealing squirming tentacle-like appendages that occasionally slipped out and recoiled, as if possessing independent awareness.

Upon seeing Robb, the creature lunged at the cage door and let out a bizarre howl, a mix of a wolf's roar and an insect's screech. Its back-tentacles flailed, slamming into the bars with heavy thuds.

"This is our Composite Warrior."

The merchant introduced it with obvious pride and excitement, as though presenting his masterpiece:

"A perfect fusion of werewolf strength and speed, beetle-grade defense, and tentacle monster flexibility. Designed by a Crystal Spire gene-modifier, this creation took three years to successfully cultivate!"

He went on enthusiastically: "It can use multiple attack modes, claw swipes, bites, armored charges, and tentacle wraps. It's a top-tier melee fighter."

Robb used his appraisal ability again and felt a wave of unease.

This was no simple hybrid, it was a highly dangerous multi-graft experiment.

Three entirely different species had been forcibly merged, producing a creature that defied natural order.

Judging by its chaotic energy flow, it could collapse from internal conflict at any moment.

"What's its mental state?"

Robb asked, noting the pain and madness in the creature's eyes. Its pupils kept contracting and dilating, as though it was enduring constant, unbearable torment.

"Ah, that's our newest control technology."

The merchant grinned and took out a small crystal cube, etched with glowing runes:

"A special crystal was implanted into its brain, completely suppressing self-awareness and forcing obedience. With this controller, the master can command it freely, even temporarily enhance its abilities, though it does shorten its lifespan."

He added smugly: "This tech comes straight from the Crystal Spire. It's very reliable. I've heard every sorcerer in the Heartlands keep at least three to five such combat slaves, for home defense and threat deterrence."

Robb's expression remained neutral, but inwardly, he felt a wave of disgust.

This went beyond bloodline tuning, it was full-on neural hijacking. Controlling a creature by crystal manipulation of its brain, stripping away its identity.

While effective, such beings were destined to be disposable tools with no potential for growth.

The tour continued, revealing even more bizarre and brutal combat slaves.

All the while, Robb silently used his appraisal skill to study each one, collecting valuable data for his own bloodline-modification research.

He noted energy signatures and genetic flaws, insights that would prove useful for his experiments.

Just then, the merchant seemed to remember something and abruptly shifted the conversation:

"By the way, Master Robb. Have you heard of the Blood Arena?"

"Blood Arena?" Robb raised a brow, this was new to him.

But the merchant's sudden change in tone suggested it was important.

"Exactly!" the merchant whispered, glancing around like he feared being overheard.

"It's a special event the Order holds each quarter. Usually unpublicized, only High Apprentices are invited. Contestants send their trained combat slaves into deadly duels. The winner receives extravagant rewards."

His eyes gleamed with excitement, his voice slightly trembling:

"Rare spell models, advanced alchemical tools, even rare potion formulas! Items you can't find anywhere on the open market! Even the lowest prize can significantly boost an ordinary apprentice's power!"

Robb's interest was piqued, though he kept his face calm.

"What are the rules? When does it take place?"

"Simple. Each contestant submits a trained combat slave, which is classified by size and power. They then battle others in designated arenas until death."

The merchant smirked, eyes glinting slyly:

"The owner may use a special control crystal to issue commands, but cannot intervene directly. Victory depends solely on the slave's strength."

He added: "The next arena will be held in three months, during the final week of the semester. It attracts many High Apprentices, and even instructors attend to observe. For any apprentice seeking recognition, this is a golden opportunity."

Robb nodded thoughtfully, already weighing the event's risks and rewards.

Three months would be enough to complete initial bloodline trials, but creating a fully matured combat creature might require special methods.

"And…" the merchant leaned in, eyes glowing with fervor.

"I've heard this round's grand prize is an Abyssal Relic, the Substitute Puppet."

"Abyssal Relic?"

Robb's curiosity flared. He'd read only vague references to the Deep Abyss, and this term was entirely new.

The merchant nodded, clearly enjoying being the bearer of forbidden knowledge. His face lit up with near-religious enthusiasm:

"The Deep Abyss isn't something commoners dare speak of."

He paused dramatically, savoring Robb's thirst for answers:

"It's a cursed realm, endless, vast, terrifying. The deeper you go, the stronger the curses. Most die before even reaching the first level."

Robb remained expressionless, but inwardly, he was stirred.

It sounded like an alternate dimension or a mana concentration zone, likely harboring immense power.

"And people still venture there?" he asked cautiously.

"Of course!" The merchant became animated:

"Precisely because it's dangerous. The Deep Abyss holds countless ancient Relics, wondrous items even the greatest alchemists cannot replicate, and enchanters can't reconstruct."

He rubbed his hands with obsession in his eyes:

"Each Abyssal Relic is unique, possessing powers that defy logic. Some allow instant teleportation across miles, some let you glimpse the future, and some even rewrite causality..."

Robb's eyes flashed with alertness. These descriptions aligned closely with his understanding of Rare Relics.

"You may not know this, but the Arch-Abyss Continents were named that because they surround the Deep Abyss."

The merchant gestured broadly, eyes glowing with awe:

"The Deep Abyss is a massive rift that runs through the entire world, bottomless, tens of thousands of miles wide in places. It's not just a symbol of darkness, it's the source of magic. Major supernatural organisations like Crystal Spire are all built nearby to draw its endless energy."

His voice grew intense:

"Some say the Abyss connects to an unknown dimension, and the energy that flows from it reshaped the laws of our world, making supernatural power possible. Without the Abyss, there would be no magical races, none of the wonder we know today!"

Robb began to understand. His eyes gleamed with insight:

So, areas near the Abyss have higher mana density, ideal for sorcerer training? That's why the Crystal Spire's energy is five times greater than the Black Mist Forest, it's closer to the Abyssal core?

He didn't say it aloud.

But the merchant caught the flicker in his eyes and smiled internally. He knew he'd hooked the young apprentice, students were always weak to mystery.

From a waterproof pouch, he took out a folded flyer covered in strange items and brief descriptions.

"This is an Order-issued promo, got it through special channels. They'll start posting them publicly in a few months."

He lowered his voice and unfolded the sheet:

"One of the top prizes in the next Arena is this Substitute Puppet."

Robb stared at the flyer.

It showed a strange humanoid puppet covered in twisted, complex runes. Its body was a sickly green-gray, as if soaked too long in some unknown liquid.

Its eyes were two dark red gemstones that gave off an uncanny aura even through illustration.

"Rumor says it came from the fourth layer of the Deep Abyss. It contains a soul stone capable of holding consciousness. No one's identified the wood used to make it."

The merchant watched Robb carefully.

"The user can transfer their consciousness into it, creating a perfect replica body. It inherits all magical and supernatural traits, and most fascinating of all, damage to the original body doesn't affect the puppet. Even if the user dies, the puppet can live on."

Hearing this, Robb felt a jolt deep in his soul.

If the puppet really worked that way, it was tailor-made for someone with a Dual Soul talent like him.

He already had two souls, if this could enhance that trait, he might double his training speed and combat capacity.

"Sounds… intriguing."

Robb replied casually, though his eyes remained locked on the puppet's image.

The merchant saw the fixed gaze and smiled.

The apprentice was hooked, just as he hoped.

"You see now why students are so obsessed with combat slaves…"

He deliberately raised his voice, steering the conversation back to his pitch:

"A high-quality combat slave isn't just protection, it's a stepping stone to greatness. If you win at the Blood Arena and get something like the Substitute Puppet, your status in the Black Mist Order will skyrocket."

He spun his words masterfully:

"Of course, you'll need a slave powerful enough to compete. Luckily, we offer top-tier stock, customizable to suit your needs, whether for melee, ranged combat, or support magic."

The merchant had talked his head off just to push his goods.

But Robb no longer cared, his mind was consumed by the Substitute Puppet.

"If that Abyssal Relic really is a type of ancient Rare Relic, then acquiring it must become one of my core objectives. Judging by the recent stirrings in my soul, if I reach High Apprentice status soon, I might unlock the effects of dual-casting. With the Substitute Puppet, I could forge a second body..."

Robb's thoughts churned as he mentally began drafting his preparation plan for the Blood Arena.