Michael marched on.

He weaved between the destroyed houses of the consumed Villages, much slower than usual. His eyes kept darting around, making sure he was prepared for any surprise attack, and his Dragonheart thumped within his chest. His sharpened senses were pushed to their limits as they tried to grasp the increasingly darker surroundings.

However, nothing happened.

The deeper Michael went and the closer he got to the Abyss, the more lifeless everything seemed. Apart from a few Forgotten, all he managed to see were increasingly more ruined houses and Villages. After a certain point, those stopped showing up, too. In the end, all that remained was complete darkness, deeper than the void itself.

Michael didn't know for how long he walked. It was as if time itself had lost its meaning. Surrounded by the infinite dark, the only thing he could see was the gaping ravine that scarred it. Eventually, he arrived at its edge.

Michael peered down the ravine's entrance. The walls seemed to be made of even deeper darkness and not stone. At the very bottom, lay something he couldn't even properly comprehend.

…I didn't know there were colors darker than black.

He didn't even know how to begin to describe what he was looking at. It went beyond the "absence of light" and instead into the realm of shadows as a physical force. He kept staring down into the Abyss, increasingly consumed by the feeling that it was pulling him in.

The voice from before didn't appear. Things were strangely quiet, but also peaceful. For an unknown amount of time, Michael simply stood there, unmoving. Then, he took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and stepped forward. Naturally, his foot landed on nothing, and he started falling. The darkness devoured him even faster than he predicted, but his fall didn't stop. He only kept going and going, even further down.

…What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

He didn't regret his decision to enter the Abyss. He had already weighed his options and decided this was the best course of action, even if only to address the sliver of possibility that the voice had been truthful. Still, that didn't mean he was automatically certain of everything this decision entailed.

Eventually, Michael landed on 'something.' All around him was only the deepest darkness he'd ever seen, but he had clearly stopped falling and was now standing on some kind of surface. Naturally, his gaze was drawn to the only other entity in this void.

What… is that?

At first glance, the man was bipedal and had the same general shape as a human. However, that was where the similarities ended. The black-skinned man was kneeling on the 'ground,' but Michael could tell he was far taller than any human, standing at around five meters tall. The man had white, glowing long hair that fell upon his wide shoulders, but he also had six arms. He was naked, but he didn't seem to have genitals. His muscles looked like they had been carved by the world's greatest artist and were covered in white, glowing lines that were reminiscent of the tears that the Forgotten cried.

Most importantly, the man seemed to be covered in injuries. From cuts and gashes to contusions, there was barely a spot in his body that wasn't maimed. There was no blood or anything that resembled it.

When the man raised his head to look at Michael, Michael flinched. The man's eyes looked like miniature stars, but the sclera were entirely black.

"There you are, newborn," the man said after a second. The voice was the same as the one he'd heard before, only amplified a thousand times, to the point it shook Michael to the core.

He's the strongest I've ever seen.

Michael was sure of it. Even in his current state, the black-skinned man was the most powerful entity he'd come across. No, there was Clyranth. For a second, he had no idea how to compare the two of them; they were far too beyond his power level for him to be able to tell.

"What are you?" Michael tentatively asked after a few seconds in silence. His voice didn't echo, but it could be heard clearly, as if the darkness itself were the medium.

"An Umbra," the man replied, then slowly stood up to his full towering height. "A race so old we were forgotten. Like the Dragons. But our enemies didn't forget us."

Michael narrowed his eyes, carefully coming up with the appropriate question in his head that wouldn't reveal too much.

"…And those enemies are?"

The Umbra tilted his head.

"The Gods of War," he replied clearly. "You're asking questions you already know the answers to, descendant."

Michael let out a breath of relief, his shoulders relaxing a bit. As he was about to ask what the entity knew about the Dragons, the Umbra continued to speak.

"Like the Dragons, we're Mythical Beasts. And like the Dragons, the few of us that are left are all in places like this. Our prisons."

Michael resisted the urge to take a step back and stared into the Umbra's star-like eyes. His mind raced.

"…Why did you create the Curse of Darkness?"

The man slowly shook his head.

"A racial trait that has been exploited by the Gods of War. No matter. None of those questions are actually relevant."

Michael slowly nodded, trying to drag himself out of the stupor from seeing a Mythical Beast in the flesh instead of through a dream. At the same time, a question appeared in his mind.

How is anyone supposed to clear the Abyss if it's home to a Mythical Beast? Or is it really supposed to be a zone that cannot be cleared, so that participants in the Tutorial are forced to deal with the Curse of Darkness?

Still, just like the Umbra had said, those were questions that weren't relevant to his current self, not in this situation. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Once he opened them again, he appeared calmer.

"What did you want to talk about with me?"

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Instead of replying, the Umbra only stared at him.

"You have been blessed, have you not? The Light Dragon's Blessing of Light. Just like us," the man said after a second.

Michael blinked.

"…Just like you? Is that what the glowing white energy is all about?"

The Umbra smiled for the first time in this conversation.

"Indeed. A way for us to cope with the darkness that is inherent to us. In my current state, it only serves to empower the so-called Curse of Darkness and allow for the existence of those sad, forgotten warriors outside."

Michael rubbed his temples. Why had Clyranth blessed the Umbra? Why had they been captured or exterminated just like the Dragons? How had the gods managed to harness the power of their darkness? The questions were endless.

The Umbra moved, dragging Michael out of his thoughts. The man slowly sat on the very air, floating in place, and waved at Michael.

"Sit down, newborn. There's much to talk about."

Michael flinched before slowly walking closer to the Umbra. Once he was within three meters of him, Michael stopped and remained standing before realizing that went against the Umbra's request. After some brief hesitation, he sat down, unsure of what he was even sitting on. He took a deep breath.

"…What is your name, Umbra?"

The entity looked at him.

"Veilthar. What is yours, newborn? Though you are not really a newborn."

"Michael. Michael Gray."

Veilthar smiled again.

"An ordinary name for one whose existence means so much. How human."

Michael furrowed his brow, aware of the implications of the Umbra's words. Indeed, Clyranth had already made it clear just how special he was, even though he had never asked for any of this.

But there's something I need to ask.

It was a question that had been in the back of his mind for a while now, and this could end up being the only opportunity he would have to ask it for a long time.

"Veilthar. How is it possible for me to be a Dragon's descendant? Does it mean that my mother or father are too?"

It was the single thing he cared about the most. Unlike him, his mother hadn't seemed to have awakened to any special abilities. If she ended up being targeted by the gods, it could also mean that others would be affected. As a whole, it would be possible for the whole thing to turn into a chain reaction that would lead to the worst-case scenario, which included human extinction.

Veilthar only tilted his head again.

"You are thinking about this from a human standpoint. Tell me, Michael Gray. What does it mean to be a Dragon's descendant? How do Dragons pass on their bloodlines?"

Michael blinked and stopped himself from replying.

…I guess there's no reason to assume Dragons have sex.

Fantasy stories had led him to believe that Dragons reproduced normally and laid eggs, but that didn't mean reality would follow those concepts. It had been almost laughable for him to assume that things would be the same as fiction.

"I don't know. Please tell me."

Veilthar slowly pointed his finger at Michael's head.

"It is similar to their Blessings, though not completely. When it comes to their bloodline, they grant 'potential.'"

Michael furrowed his brow, but let the Umbra continue.

"Out of countless creatures chosen by a Dragon to bear its bloodline, only one may awaken to it. Because of their unique nature and level of power, there is no simple way for Dragons to leave behind descendants that can bear their power. And once that one creature awakens to their 'potential,' their power will be different from the Dragon it descended from."

Michael slowly nodded. It made sense. If each Dragon was completely unique, as Clyranth had told him, it stood to reason that the 'descendants' wouldn't awaken to the same power.

I see the way it's different from the Blessings.

Clyranth was the Light Dragon and had therefore granted him the Blessing of Light. There was a direct association between them. However, the Dragons' means of reproduction resulted in unique beings.

"So how did I end up being chosen? I didn't know there were even any Dragons still able to do that. Aren't they all dead or imprisoned?" Michael tentatively asked.

Veilthar smiled at him.

"Wondrous, isn't it? Throughout all of existence, you might be the only one left. All others who could be mere possibilities were rooted out and destroyed by the Gods of War, even though the Transcendent had stepped back."

Michael felt the weight on his shoulders multiply, but didn't miss one important piece of knowledge.

"Erasil stepped back? Why?"

The Umbra shook his head.

"He acted for the sake of vengeance. His vengeance was achieved. There was no longer any need to keep fighting. As such, he stopped."

Michael blinked.

Vengeance?

So it had been for the sake of a personal vendetta, after all. What had the Dragons done to antagonize the strongest creature in existence? No, there was no reason to believe Erasil was already so powerful when it happened. For the umpteenth time, Michael realized he didn't know enough about this whole thing. How had the Dragons used to act? Were they as belligerent as the Gods of War or were they peaceful?

"What happened?" he hurriedly asked.

Veilthar shook his head.

"The Dragons' actions resulted in the deaths of someone important to him while he was still weak. And then in the death of another. And another. Once the pile of bodies became a heavier burden than the would-be Transcendent was willing to bear, he made his move."

For a few seconds, neither Michael nor Veilthar said anything else.

"…How do you even know that?" Michael asked after some time.

"Isn't it natural to know one's enemies?"

Michael furrowed his brow.

"He isn't your enemy. No, he doesn't have to be. The Gods of War acted, didn't they? They took advantage of the Dragons' destruction at the hands of Erasil."

Veilthar nodded.

"It was the opportunity they had been waiting for. The few Dragons left fought back and we helped them, alongside the other Mythical Beasts, but it wasn't enough. The Dragons even blessed us and the others, but in the end, all Mythical Beasts were subjugated by the Gods of War. It was only after the Dragons were completely dealt with that the Transcendent stopped. The Phoenixes, in particular, were enslaved and now act as servants to the gods. A pitiful fate."

More silence.

"…What did you mean when you said you're my only chance of survival?"

No matter how much Michael wanted to know more about the cosmic state of things, he needed to focus on himself and his immediate future. When it came to that, that was the most important question. The Umbra stared at him with the same, star-like eyes.

"I can hide you, Michael Gray. As the Dragons can grant Blessings, we Umbra can also share our shadows. My Rune will shield you from the Gods of War for some time, as long as they don't specifically look for you."

Michael blinked, then smiled brightly, filled with relief. He still hadn't fully wrapped his head around everything he'd been told, but one step at a time, he would keep going. As long as he could keep the gods away, he was fully willing to accept this so-called Rune regardless of the consequences to his own body.

"However," Veilthar slowly extended his legs, getting out of his sitting position to rise to his full, towering height. Michael flinched and hurriedly stood up as well. "Doing so would mean my end."

Michael furrowed his brow.

"What do you mean?"

The look in the Umbra's eyes had changed.

"I am no Dragon. To share my shadows, I must give up my existence and fully channel myself into the Rune. It would be the only way to make it strong enough to fool a God of War's perception."

Michael resisted the urge to take a step back.

"And the Curse of Darkness? Wouldn't it disappear? The gods would notice it."

"They will believe that its disappearance would be because I could no longer bear the burden of time and the weight of my prison. They would assume that I had died. Not far from the truth."

Michael gave the towering Umbra a long stare. The fact that Veilthar was even willing to consider such a course of action was telling enough. He was desperate. But that couldn't be all there was to it. Michael had realized long ago that it was unlikely that he would get any more power for free.

"…What do I need to do?"

The atmosphere around Veilthar slowly changed. Michael could tell that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

"Convince me that you can bear the weight of this burden. The weight of the one who has to break through countless years of enslavement." the Umbra slowly said. "You must know what the Dragons valued above all."

Michael's eyebrow twitched as he realized the full weight of the situation. There was no time to consider why Veilthar had chosen to do this, even though he had said Michael might be the only descendant of a Dragon left. Unhesitatingly, he leaped backward, widening the distance between himself and the Umbra.

"Power," Michael replied after a second in a grave tone.

Veilthar slowly nodded.

"Prove to me that you can bear the fates of all of us Mythical Beasts. That you can do what we never managed to."

The Umbra raised his hand. Michael immediately channeled Lightspeed.

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