Far Beyond the Abyss

The Bizarre Sorcerer repeated his introduction with exasperating theatricality:

— Good afternoon, my fine mammalian sir! We're a bit lost. Could you help us?

Once again, the white-furred rat tilted its head in an almost robotic greeting, and the cycle restarted.

Ethan lay on the rough ground of the village, staring at the starry sky above. The spectacle mocked his existence. Each time the loop restarted, the sense of helplessness grew stronger. He could feel time slipping through his fingers, even though, within this cycle, time did not exist in a conventional sense.

"Listen to the Sorcerer." Seryne's voice echoed in his mind. At first, it had seemed like a simple hint; now, it was a cruel enigma.

"Listen to what?" Ethan muttered to himself. "He just keeps repeating the same things… always the same stupid words." His voice came out hoarse, almost broken. He tried to recall stories about time loops, but in all of them, the protagonist was forced to endure constant agony until they found a way out. Ethan began to wonder if that was the fate awaiting him. Madness? Sacrifice? Death?

"Why doesn't it just end me already?" he thought. But his frustration was quickly replaced by an even greater discomfort: the gaze of the little girl on Korrak's shoulder. Her eyes gleamed with a knowledge that was not natural, a knowledge that seemed to pierce into the most vulnerable parts of his soul.

"Why is she looking at me like that?" Ethan averted his gaze, but the weight of her stare remained. Each time the cycle restarted, that gaze became more intense, as if she knew something he didn't.

He turned to the Sorcerer. The lunatic was now using a shoelace as a whip, lashing his floating books as if trying to discipline them. "If he knows something, this doesn't make sense," Ethan thought, trying to gather the courage to confront him. But before he could take another step, everything went dark.

Once again, he was back at the beginning. The Sorcerer performed his exaggerated bow, holding a random object—this time, a golden feather that disintegrated in the air.

— Good afternoon, my fine mammalian sir! We're a bit lost. Could you help us?

Ethan felt despair rise in his throat. He wanted to scream but held it back. Every time he tried to confront the Sorcerer directly, the cycle seemed to reset instantly, as if something was protecting or controlling the loop.

"If I can't face him directly, maybe there's another way…"

——————-

In the center of the underground labyrinth, where darkness twisted like a living thing, Lian Xuan remained serene. His breathing was steady, his gaze, unshaken. But what unfolded around him was anything but calm.

Before him stood the Profane Tree—a grotesque abomination of twisted roots and deformed branches. What should have symbolized the serene beauty of nature was now a distorted vision, a dark parody of life. Its roots emerged from the ground, pulsing with a corrupt energy that seemed to drain the vitality of the surroundings. Its branches, more like living spears, moved with murderous intent, piercing the air as if trying to tear reality itself apart.

Lian Xuan knew what he was facing. With each cycle, the tree grew more desperate, more aggressive. Its intentions were clear: to create a spatial fissure and cast him into some unknown place, away from this battle and the loop. But the cultivator was like an immortal mountain.

"You are strong," he murmured to the tree, "but you lack substance. The corruption makes you weak."

With a fluid motion, Lian Xuan raised his right hand, his palm glowing an intense blue. It was a fire that did not burn but flowed like water, enveloping him in an almost divine serenity. His Qi swirled within him, a dance of pure energy that resonated with his immortal essence.

The tree lashed out in frenzied fury, its roots stretching toward the cultivator, each carrying an aura of death. Lian Xuan stepped forward, his palm colliding with the roots. The impact was devastating—a burst of blue light cut through the darkness, disintegrating the roots and carving a path through the chaos.

"You bend both time and space and think you can bend anyone," he said like an unwanted tenant, as more roots surged toward him. "But I am no mere guest here. I am a force you cannot control."

The white robes of Lian Xuan billowed with the movement of the blue fire emanating from his body, turning each attack into a visual spectacle of serenity and destruction. He did not fight with haste but with precision. Each movement was a surgical strike against the tree's intentions, each impact a step closer to the subterranean center.

The tree roared in fury, its voice echoing through the labyrinth like a distorted thunderclap. Its branches began to intertwine, forming impossible shapes, distorting the space around them. The ground fractured, the walls of the labyrinth curved, trying to expel him.

But Lian Xuan stood firm. His Qi was like a river—constant, fluid, impossible to contain.

"You seek to dominate time, but time is like a river," he said, eyes distant.

"With me, it learns to flow. With you, it only seeks to escape."

More roots emerged, now accompanied by a wind that howled in agony. The tree was throwing everything it had at him, its desperation clear. Lian Xuan felt the pressure mount, the corruption trying to invade his mind, like an invisible poison creeping through his soul.

But he was unshaken. He knew his body and mind were fortresses. He had faced the heavens in his world. He had transcended mortal limitations. And now, even before a creature that bent the very laws of time and space, he would not retreat.

With a graceful turn, Lian Xuan used both palms, channeling a surge of blue fire that erupted in all directions, creating a clearing amidst the chaos of roots and distortions. The tree screamed again, but this time, something was different—its tone carried fear.

"You are beginning to despair," Lian Xuan murmured as he stepped forward once more.

With each cycle, the cultivator advanced further. With each reset, he grew closer to the heart of the loop. He could feel the convergence of time's laws, the tangled knot keeping the village and his companions trapped in this infernal cycle.

"Your master is at the center, isn't he?" he said, speaking to the tree.

The space around him twisted once more, a final attempt to cast him out. But he remained, unmoving, like a mountain.

Lian Xuan took a deep breath, allowing his Qi to flow within him once more, renewing his strength. He knew his battle was not just for himself but for his companions, for Ethan, who was struggling above with his own confusion and doubts.

"Hold on, boy," Lian Xuan thought. "I am forging the path. You only need to find the key."

And with another step, he advanced—closer to the center, closer to the truth.