Do the Abyssal Guard Dogs Dream? — FUWAMOCO Fragment: The Demon's Perspective - Millennium Awakening — The Sealed Grudge and the Unknown Bond

At the bottom of the abyss, he heard the sound of his own bones creaking. No — not bones. It was the sound of the seal that had bound him for a thousand years, loosening by the faintest fraction. In the darkness, Valgrim slowly lifted his eyelids. Darkness, unchanging, filled his vision. Here in the deepest layer of the abyss — the place called the Sealed Stratum — light did not exist. The air was heavy and stagnant, and with every breath, poison seemed to seep into the depths of his lungs. But his body had long since become one with that poison. How long had he slept? No — he wasn't even certain whether he had been sleeping at all. A thousand years had melted his consciousness, clouded his memories, and sharpened only his hatred into a crystal-hard point. The black patterns running along both his arms pulsed with a heavy throb. Proof that the abyssal poison coursed through his body in place of blood. "...It's not over yet." His low, rasping voice was swallowed by the darkness. For the first time in a thousand years, his throat stirred the air. At his neck, the crown from a thousand years ago — still tethered by its chain — swayed with a faint sound. The cloak embroidered in black and gold had rotted to tatters, its former royal dignity beyond recognition. Yet only his crimson eyes still burned with a fierce light in the darkness. His pupils were split vertically, and their brightness shifted with his anger — now they were stained a quiet hue of hatred. He tried to raise his tall frame, but the shackles held him fast. The chains groaned, and the old scars on his back ached. Those marks — remnants of the seal's binding — were carved into his back and had not faded even after a thousand years. On his left chest lay the fatal wound from that day. The mark of the blade driven into him a millennium ago by the man he had trusted most. He didn't want to remember. But the memories spilled forth on their own. The Kingdom of Grimgald. A beautiful nation where humans and demi-humans lived shoulder to shoulder. White chalk walls, blue skies, laughter ringing through the marketplace. Himself, the king. And beside him, the man with whom he had sworn a bond of brotherhood. Gares. That man's betrayal had destroyed everything. Flames. Screams. The collapsing castle. The banners of the Human Alliance fluttering over the burning capital. And himself, cast down into the abyss. "Why?" That word had spilled from his lips countless times over the thousand years. There was no answer. The abyssal poison had slowly dissolved his memories, mixed them with hatred, until he could no longer tell which were real and which were phantoms born of the poison. And yet, this question alone would not fade. Why was he betrayed? Why, Gares? Valgrim closed his eyes. The abyssal force leaking through the cracks in the seal tormented his mind. Abyssal force — the root of all magic in this world, an eerie power that seeped from the wounds of the earth. The more one used it, the more it eroded one's memories — a power like a narcotic. A thousand years ago, the Kingdom of Grimgald had controlled this power and built its prosperity upon it. And then the humans, jealous of that power, had destroyed the kingdom. No — was that really how it happened? His memories wavered. The poison clouded his thoughts. Valgrim gritted his teeth and opened his crimson eyes. He could not move yet. The seal was not fully broken. The Abyssal Core — the massive crystal that existed in the deepest part of the abyss — still bound him. Unless he shattered it, he could not move a single step from this place. But the thousand-year sleep had not been wasted. He slowly focused his consciousness on the black patterns on both arms. The patterns writhed, rising to the surface like veins. From them, impossibly thin threads extended outward. Threads woven from abyssal poison, invisible to the eye. The only tendrils of his consciousness that could reach beyond his sealed body. The poison threads crawled through the darkness, slipped through cracks in the rock, and climbed back up through the layers of the abyss, one after another. The Seventh Stratum — the Poison-Eaten Stratum. In this layer, where abyssal poison drifted through the air, his power flowed most easily. The threads climbed higher still. The middle strata, the shallow strata. And then — he sensed it. The shallow layer of the abyss. A relatively safe area, about five hundred meters from the abyss's entrance. There, he detected two presences. Through the poison threads, Valgrim saw the scene. White. Fluffy white hair. Dog ears that twitched atop their heads. A water-blue gaze, laughing with a soft light. Beside her, a slightly smaller girl with the same white hair and dog ears. The insides of her ears were pink, and her eyes were a bright pink. The two were picking small berries at the base of a blue-black tree that grew in the shallow layer. "Big Sister, these berries are so sweet!" "Really? Then let's eat them together later, okay?" There was no light in the abyss. But in the shallow layer, the moss growing on the walls gave off a faint phosphorescence, casting a pale blue glow over their white hair. The girl with the water-blue eyes — Fuwawa — wore a calm smile as she gently stroked her little sister's head. The girl with the pink eyes — Mococo — narrowed her eyes happily and nuzzled against her sister's hand. "Hey, hey, Big Sister. Let's play tag later!" "Oh, Mococo, you're so full of energy. Didn't we just play yesterday?" "But it's fun!" Mococo laughed. An innocent, guileless smile. Fuwawa laughed along with her. Their laughter dissolved into the silence of the abyss. Valgrim watched the scene from the bottom of the darkness. It irritated him. Why didn't that older sister betray her younger sister? Why didn't that younger sister doubt her older sister? Bonds. Trust. Love. He knew they were all lies. A thousand years ago, he had believed too. And he had been betrayed. "...Why don't you betray each other?" His voice sank into the darkness. His crimson eyes blazed brighter in response to his anger. Deep in his heart, an inexplicable emotion churned. Irritation. Hatred. And something else entirely — a dry, parched craving. If only he had not been betrayed. If only Gares had remained by his side. He forcibly shook off the thought. "...I'll show you." His lips slowly twisted. "How fragile your bond truly is." The poison threads extended toward the shallow layer. The invisible, slender threads crawled through the cracks in the rock, traced along the roots of the blue-black trees, and then — They softly touched Mococo's feet. In that instant, Mococo's fingertips twitched. "...?" She stared at her own hand. She felt as though something had touched her. But there was nothing there. "Mococo, what's wrong?" Fuwawa peered at her with concern. Mococo tilted her head, then smiled. "Nope, it's nothing. I was just a little cold." "Cold? The shallow layer's temperature should be stable... If you're not feeling well, should we go home for today?" "No way, I still want to play! Hey, Big Sister, there were lots of sweet-looking berries over there!" Mococo tugged at Fuwawa's hand. Fuwawa smiled helplessly and patted her sister's head. "I suppose there's no helping it. Just a little longer, okay?" "Okay!" The two ran off. Valgrim watched their retreating figures from the bottom of the darkness. He had decided to destroy that sisters' everyday life. He had planted the first dose of poison in Mococo's body. Still a tiny amount. But it would take root, surely. The abyssal poison eroded memory and perception. In the first stage, mild memory clouding. In the second stage, loss of recognition of others. And in the third stage — the collapse of self-awareness. That younger sister would eventually look upon her sister's face and no longer know who she was. "What kind of face will you make then?" He quietly asked the question toward Fuwawa's back. There was no answer. In the shallow layer of the abyss, only the sisters' laughter echoed. That laughter seared the depths of his chest, stinging and smoldering. Valgrim extended the poison threads further. Past the shallow layer, beyond the abyss's entrance, up to the surface layer above ground. For the first time in a thousand years, his consciousness touched the air of the outside world. The Great Abyssal Rift. Also called the Scar of the Earth — a massive fissure stretching eight hundred kilometers in total length. From its bottom, his consciousness crawled upward. Within a ten-kilometer radius of the rift lay the abyss's sphere of influence. Plants turned blue-black, animals grew vicious. At night, abyssal winds blew, driving living creatures mad. Humans had designated it a restricted zone, but poachers never ceased. Valgrim saw the world spreading beyond. The Kingdom of Rustia. The largest human kingdom on the surface layer. Area: two hundred eighty thousand square kilometers. Population: three million two hundred thousand. The capital was the royal city of Arsein. A city along the Selen River, roughly eighty kilometers from the Great Abyssal Rift. Surrounded by white walls, it was home to a hundred twenty thousand people — the political and economic heart of the surface layer. A thousand years ago, that city had not existed. No — perhaps it had. His memories were hazy. The abyssal poison was dissolving his old recollections. But one thing was certain: the humans who lived in that city were the descendants of those who had betrayed him. Valgrim extended the poison threads to Arsein. Beneath the city. Further below the graveyard. There, the ones who would become his pawns were waiting. The underground graveyard of Arsein. This place, where the nobles and wealthy of the Kingdom of Rustia slept, was dim even in daytime, wrapped in a cool, damp air. Beyond the rows of memorial steles, there was a stone wall that appeared utterly unremarkable. But behind it lay a hidden door, and beyond that, a staircase descending further underground. The Shadow Association — the Veil Order. A secret organization dedicated to the human utilization of abyssal force. It had been born roughly four hundred years ago, in opposition to the Kingdom of Rustia's ban on abyssal force research. Its membership numbered about eight hundred. Its funding came from the black-market sale of rare minerals harvested from the abyss. Its headquarters lay beneath the underground graveyard of the royal capital Arsein — further still below. A hidden base spanning three thousand square meters. In one of its rooms, Gilbert Rain sat before an abyssal monitoring device, his brow furrowed. He was a thin man around forty, distinguished by the deep shadows under his eyes. He had once been a court mage of the Kingdom of Rustia, but when his private research into abyssal force was discovered, he was exiled and taken in by the Veil Order. Now he served as an operative, tasked with monitoring activity in the abyss. The device was displaying abnormal readings. "...What is this?" The pulsation of abyssal force was being observed at more than three times its normal intensity. And the source was the deepest layer. The Sealed Stratum. Only one being was sealed in that place. "Impossible. The seal should be stable." He adjusted the device's dials and scrutinized the data. But the numbers did not change. Rather, they were growing stronger by the moment. Gilbert exhaled deeply and ran his quill across the parchment on his desk. He needed to draft a report. The Veil Order's upper echelon had to be informed of this anomaly. 'Confirmed abnormal pulsation of abyssal force in the deepest Sealed Stratum. The fluctuation of the seal continues to expand. Reconfirmation of the Guard Dogs' positioning is required. Additionally, I recommend expanding the subjugation targets of the Ashen Spear Knights. The abyssal threat can no longer be overlook

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Episode 1

Name: Do the Abyssal Guard Dogs Dream? — FUWAMOCO Fragment: The Demon's Perspective
Author: Novelia

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