"Maya, let's go!" Atlas called, wrapping his shawl around his shoulders as he adjusted his boots.
Krenz, now mostly dry, hovered behind him, feeling something strange settle in his gut. It wasn't fear, nor was it hesitation. It was… trust. As ridiculous as it seemed, a part of him felt like he could believe in Atlas's words.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm done. Come on, Boink," Maya said casually, extending her hand toward the massive beast.
Krenz furrowed his brows.
"Wait… are you expecting that pig to hold your hand or something?" A dry chuckle almost left his lips—
—until the air around Boink rippled.
The beast's massive frame shuddered, a low, resonating hum echoing from deep within its chest. The thick, bristled fur along its back stood on end as its flesh seemed to quiver, as if it were melting. No—shifting.
Boink's hulking form twisted, his body caving in like wax under an unseen flame. His massive bulk shrank, collapsed, and funneled toward Maya's outstretched palm. It was as if gravity itself had turned against him, dragging his entire being into her grasp in thick, swirling currents of living metal.
The transformation wasn't smooth—it was violent, like iron being forged into something new. The air crackled with unseen energy as Boink's shape contorted, condensing into a dense, solid mass. The bulk of his body stretched, elongating into a thick, unyielding shaft, while his rounded head hardened, ballooning outward into a brutal, studded mass.
And then—silence.
The ground beneath them settled. The dust cleared.
Maya tightened her grip around the handle of a massive Oni club, its surface gleaming like freshly tempered steel.
Krenz stood frozen, his brain struggling to comprehend.
His lips parted, but all he managed was a stunned whisper. "Wha—"
Maya grinned, slinging the monstrous weapon onto her back and wrapping it with a leather belt sort of thing. "What? Never seen a Seven Deadly Sin before?"
Before he could even process her words, the club breathed.
The very spikes along its surface shifted, retracting and reshaping with unnatural fluidity. A pair of beady eyes blinked open, followed by a row of sharp, familiar-looking teeth poking out from the weapon's side.
Boink was still alive.
Krenz's breath hitched. His entire body locked up. His hand, still half-raised, trembled as he pointed at the weapon—no, at Boink.
"WHAT—"
Maya simply patted the club like it was a beloved pet. "Kids these days, right Boink?"
Boink let out a deep, guttural snort in agreement.
"You can gawk at it all day some other time, kid. We gotta keep moving," Atlas said, waving off Krenz's stunned expression as if he'd just witnessed something completely mundane.
"Yeah, kid, go stare at a babe or something. Stop eyeing my club," Maya smirked, adjusting Boink on her back as she followed after Atlas, who had already begun walking.
Krenz stood there for a second, his mouth half-open, his mind still reeling from what he had just seen. But as the two wandered farther ahead, he swallowed his questions, steadied himself, and hurried after them.
They walked through an endless stretch of green, the sky an unbroken sea of blue above them. The wind made the tall grass ripple like waves, the scent of fresh earth and wildflowers drifting through the air. Streams cut across their path, so clear that Krenz couldn't even see them until he stepped in one, soaking his boots for the third time. He grumbled under his breath, but eventually just started mirroring Atlas and Maya, hopping whenever they did.
Minutes passed. The landscape didn't change. No landmarks, no roads, no towns—just an empty field stretching far beyond what his eyes could see.
The unsettling monotony gnawed at him.
"Umm… can I ask where exactly we're going?" Krenz finally spoke up.
Atlas, as unbothered as ever, simply said, "We're almost there."
Krenz frowned, about to press for details, when both Atlas and Maya came to an abrupt stop. He barely had time to skid to a halt before nearly slamming into Atlas's back.
"We're here," Atlas said flatly.
Krenz blinked. Then blinked again.
What?
They were nowhere. Just standing in the middle of an open field, nothing around except for a small bump in the earth beneath their feet.
Atlas, without a word, extended his hand backward.
Krenz, still confused, instinctively placed his own hand against it—only for Atlas to slap it away with a look of pure disgust. "Tsk."
Krenz's face flushed red. He quickly backed off as Maya stepped forward, plucking a single strand of her hair and placing it in Atlas's palm.
Atlas crouched down, scanning the ground with practiced ease. After a moment, he found what he was looking for—a subtle, uneven patch of earth. He buried the strand of hair into the soil and then reached for the shorter sword at his waist.
Krenz watched, still lost, as Maya suddenly grabbed his wrist, holding him in place while resting her other hand on Atlas's back.
Then, in a single fluid motion, Atlas dragged the sharp edge of his sword across his palm. A thin line of crimson welled up instantly. He clenched his fist, letting the blood drip down onto the buried hair.
The moment the first drop touched the ground—
Whoosh—
The world lurched.
A sickening pull twisted at Krenz's gut, like something had reached into his very existence and yanked. His vision warped. The air ripped around them, folding in on itself, stretching and distorting until his brain couldn't comprehend what was happening. It was like being shoved inside a stomach, squeezed, pulled apart, and turned inside out all at once.
And then—
Thud.
He landed hard, knees buckling.
The world had changed.
The vast green field was gone. The endless blue sky had vanished.
Darkness swallowed them whole.
The air was thick, humid, wrong. Gone was the fresh scent of grass and flowers—now, the space reeked of iron, damp earth, and something old. It smelled like a forgotten place, left to rot in the shadows for centuries.
Krenz's breath hitched. His fingers trembled. But before he could ask what had just happened—
Atlas and Maya were already moving forward, completely unfazed.
"The place we are headed to now, don't wander too far off of either of us."
Krenz knew when to listen and when not to. This time around he knew it was best to take the words to action, as he saw a lit door approaching closer as they kept moving.
The path ahead was dark and stretched endlessly, the air thick and oppressive. Krenz trudged along, the damp earth beneath his feet muffling his steps. The only sound was the rhythmic tapping of their boots against stone, occasionally interrupted by Maya's lazy munching as she chewed on a dried fruit stick.
Then, up ahead—a light. Faint at first, like a candle flickering in the wind, but growing stronger with every step. Krenz squinted, his breath hitching as they approached a massive, metal door. Its surface was ancient, riddled with cracks barely wide enough for thin beams of golden light to pierce through. The door radiated a strange presence, as if it had stood there for centuries, refusing to yield to time itself.
Krenz reached out, running his fingers over the cold, rough metal. It didn't budge. "It's... sealed shut."
Maya, unfazed, took a step forward. "Move."
With a casual stretch of her arms, she dug her fingers into the heavy steel and, with a grunt, pushed. The door groaned in protest, dust and rust crumbling from its hinges. Then, with an ear-splitting creak, it slowly swung open.
And what laid beyond was the likes of something Krenz had never seen or experienced before in his life, ever. It made his stomach churn.
A massive underground corridor sprawled before them, stretching so far that the light from the ceiling barely reached its end. Yet, it wasn't just a corridor—it was a city in itself Towering structures of rusted metal and crumbling stone lined the walls, stacked atop one another like a chaotic puzzle. Smoke clung to the air, thick and suffocating, carrying the stench of sweat, iron, and something rotten. It burned Krenz's throat just to breathe.
As they walked through the dim, oppressive tunnels of the 0th floor, Krenz couldn't help but notice how easily Atlas and Maya moved among the people—if they could even be called that anymore. They greeted or nodded at almost every single one of them.
Hollow eyes peered from beneath tattered cloaks, skeletal limbs protruded like brittle twigs. Some moved with sluggish weariness, dragging carts of rusted gears and scrap metal, while others hammered away at crude ironworks, sending bursts of orange sparks into the suffocating air. Many simply sat, motionless, their expressions void of hope. When they spoke, their mouths revealed crooked, rotting teeth.
The rhythmic clang of metal rang in the distance, punctuated by the groaning of pulleys and the grunts of men hauling heavy materials. The air was thick—not just with smoke, but with something worse. Something stale. Something decayed.
Krenz's stomach twisted. He instinctively raised his sleeve to his face, blocking out the stench. His voice was unsteady as he turned to Atlas."Are they…?"
Atlas didn't bother looking at him. "Yeah. They're human."
Krenz stiffened. Humans. He had only ever seen them from a distance, and even then, they were something to be avoided. Yet here, they were everywhere. Filthy. Diseased. Disgusting.
His nose wrinkled, and he pressed himself closer behind Atlas, trying to avoid brushing against any of them."How can you just walk through here like it's nothing?" he whispered sharply. "They're humans. Our teachers always said that demigods can catch all sorts of—"
"Shut your mouth and keep moving," Atlas cut him off, his voice sharper than before.
Krenz flinched. For once, Atlas didn't sound amused.
He stayed silent after that, focusing only on walking—walking and ignoring the gaunt faces around him.
Finally, to his relief, they stopped in front of another door. This one wasn't rusted or crumbling—it was smooth, metallic, and fitted seamlessly into the tunnel walls.
"What was that place?" Krenz exhaled, finally lowering his sleeve.
Maya ignored his question and slammed a hand onto a small panel beside the door.
Before he could react, his stomach lurched.
The floor shifted.
No—it was moving.
The walls blurred, his body felt weightless for a second, and then it hit him.
It was an elevator.
Atlas leaned against the back wall, arms crossed.
Krenz swallowed hard, still shaken. But before he could dwell on it, Atlas spoke.
"So, where are you from?"
Krenz blinked.
"What?"
Atlas tilted his head, eyeing him now."You are no servant kid, you are noble preteding to be one. And humans aren't exactly a rare sight in this country. You looked at them like you'd never seen one up close before."
Krenz opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again.
Atlas waited.
Then—
Ting.
The elevator jolted to a stop.
"Welcome to the 79th floor of Logue Valley," Atlas said with a smirk. "The Bazaar."
The doors slid open—
And Krenz stepped into a different world.
Golden lights bathed the streets, stretching far and wide, reflecting off smooth stone walkways that spiraled into grand staircases and hanging bridges. The buildings, impossibly tall and ornately carved, stood stacked upon each other in intricate, dizzying patterns.
The air was thick—not with smog and decay, but with spices, oils, incense, and roasting meat.
Merchants from faraway kingdoms called out in a chorus of bartering, their banners embroidered with glowing sigils. Floating lanterns drifted above the stalls, pulsing with soft light. Exotic creatures, some resembling horses but with scales and too many eyes, carried robed figures through the streets.
Krenz moved instinctively toward the railing, his fingers tightening around the cold metal. His breath hitched.
The world stretched downward in an impossible sprawl—an endless vertical labyrinth of cities stacked upon cities, each one a separate realm suspended in the abyss. Some floors gleamed with golden lanterns, their rooftops curved like pagodas, while others pulsed with neon signs in languages Krenz couldn't read. Murky districts flickered dimly, as if resisting being swallowed by the darkness below, while others had already lost the fight—only jagged silhouettes remained, ghostly ruins clinging to the stone ribs of the structure like forgotten bones.
A distant marketplace sprawled across a lower level, its streets alive with movement—figures shifting like ants, the faint glimmers of alchemical brews and spellfire flashing like fireflies in the gloom. Above, the highest floors vanished into a golden haze, unreachable, unknowable.
Then—
WHOOSH.
A shadow ripped through the air, cutting the light apart.
Wind howled around Krenz, cold and sharp as a blade. A monstrous shape plummeted past him, its presence so vast that his stomach lurched. His mind scrambled for logic, for understanding, but there was no preparing for this.
It was massive.
Leathery wings snapped open—wider than a ship's sails—catching the air in a single, powerful stroke. The gust sent lanterns swaying and banners snapping violently. Ruby-red scales shimmered under the artificial sun, so polished they gleamed like molten metal. Its elongated snout, lined with serrated fangs, barely missed the platform as it twisted midair. A barbed tail lashed behind it, a living whip. And its eyes—bright gold, slit-pupiled—sliced through Krenz's soul, calculating, watching.
He staggered back, his heartbeat slamming against his ribs.
The creature tilted its head, almost amused, before banking sharply and soaring away in a blur of crimson and shadow.
Maya whistled beside him. "Damn. That's a big one."
Krenz, still reeling, turned to her, wide-eyed. "What—what was that?!"
She grinned. "A wyvern. Guild surveillance. You never seen one? And relax, it only eats people sometimes."
Krenz didn't relax.
"Keep up idiots," Atlas started to strode off sticking both his arms inside his shawl.
As they kept walking, they crossed districts and shops Krenz had only heard or read about in books.
The Alchemy District hit first—a sharp sting of potion fumes in the air. Vendors waved vials glowing with unnatural hues—some swirled like bottled storms, others pulsed like captured starlight. A masked alchemist stirred a molten-blue elixir, boasting that it could make a man "light as a feather, strong as a beast." Krenz barely had time to process this before a customer gulped it down—and promptly floated into the air, screaming. The merchant cackled, yanking him back down with a rope.
Past them, an ancient scroll seller traced ink onto parchment, each glyph flickering with latent magic. Scrolls floated around him like restless birds—some whispered in forgotten tongues, others thrummed like a heartbeat. Atlas inspected one.
"One use only," the old man muttered. "Unless you don't mind losing a limb."
The weapon stalls were next—blades that pulsed like they were alive, axes that hummed with raw energy. A robed woman behind the counter flicked a coin between her fingers, eyeing them lazily.
"Looking to kill someone or defend yourself?"
Krenz swallowed hard.
The food market was chaos—narrow alleys packed with sizzling skewers, bubbling cauldrons, and creatures being hacked apart. A multi-eyed fish twitched as it was gutted, its severed head still blinking. Singing fruit hummed softly until Maya bit into one—and it let out a shrill scream.
Krenz flinched. "What the hell—"
Maya wiped her mouth. "Delicious, though."
Spirit stones pulsed in the next stall—tiny crystals that flickered with trapped energy. "Low-tier soul fragments," Atlas muttered. "Probably leftovers from something long dead."
"People buy these?"
Atlas smirked. "People buy worse."
Then finally they reached the destined shop, a small, smoky shop tucked into the market's quieter end smelled of burning tobacco and melted metal. Behind the counter stood a woman who could have melted steel by looks alone. Broad-shouldered, hourglass figure, dark curls spilling over one shoulder. A scar traced the curve of her cheek—beautiful, dangerous. She exhaled slowly from a long pipe, eyes gleaming like embers when she saw Atlas.
"Well, well," she drawled, lips curling into a smirk. "If I knew you were coming, I would've put on something tighter."
Atlas leaned against the counter, lazy grin in place, but eyes sharp. "If I knew you were married, I wouldn't have gone that far last time."
She arched a brow. "Liar."
Maya muttered to Krenz mimicking some old lady covering her eyes with an handeerchief, "You brat, eyeing a married women. Is that how I raised you?"
The woman reached under the counter, retrieving a pair of earrings—direwolf fur and silver inlays, worn but well-crafted. She slid them toward Atlas, watching as his fingers lingered over them.
He hooked them onto his ears without a word.
"You still owe me for the last three months," she said.
Atlas smirked. "Put it on my tab."
She exhaled another slow plume of smoke. "We both know that day isn't coming, unless you agree on paying some other way."
He huffed as he turned around and went out. "I got rules lady."
As they wound through the market's labyrinthine streets, Krenz caught sight of something enormous in the distance. At first, it was just a collection of strange, curved structures looming over the cityscape, lit by glowing runes and flanked by towering iron pillars. But as they got closer, he noticed the massive chains stretching across its perimeter, thick as tree trunks, each one rattling softly.
A deep, echoing roar rumbled through the air.
Krenz stiffened. "What… is that?"
Atlas and Maya didn't even glance up. They walked forward like it was just another store.
Another snarl, followed by the distinct sound of something heavy dragging across stone. Krenz caught a flash of movement through the gaps in the structures—leathery wings, glinting scales, reptilian eyes gleaming like molten gold. His heartbeat spiked.
Then he saw the sign.
"Fastest way up. Survive the ride, get your money's worth!"
Krenz froze. "You have got to be kidding me."
No one reacted. Atlas strolled up to the open-air wyvern stables like he was ordering lunch.
The place was massive, a grand coliseum of stone and iron, with dozens of wyverns resting on thick iron platforms. Their wings flared restlessly, their forked tongues flicking at the air. Each beast was different—some covered in obsidian-black scales, others striped like tigers, a few even armored in gold-plated saddles. The air reeked of burning leather and wild magic.
Handlers moved through the space, clad in reinforced gear, their expressions far too casual for people working inches away from apex predators.
A massive red wyvern stretched its wings, the sheer force of the movement sending a gust of wind powerful enough to rattle the nearby chain-link fence. Another, smaller and sleeker, perched high on a metal beam, its long tail curled like a noose.
Atlas approached the counter, where a grizzled, one-eyed handler was polishing a rusted coin between his fingers. His jacket was stitched with old wyvern teeth, and the smell of tobacco and charred leather clung to him like a second skin.
Atlas leaned against the counter. "One wyvern. Good flight, no broken bones, preferably."
The man grunted. "Cash or credit?"
Atlas smirked. "Put it on my tab."
The man let out a raspy chuckle and pocketed his coin. "One of these days, that tab's gonna bury you, Atlas."
Atlas grinned. "Then make sure I get a good send-off."
The handler whistled sharply, and from the far end of the stable, a black-scaled wyvern stirred. It moved with dangerous elegance, its piercing yellow eyes locking onto Krenz immediately. Its wings stretched—tattered in places but still vast and powerful. Unlike the others, this one wore no heavy armor, no chains. Just a single metal insignia hooked onto its saddle—marking it as a rental, not a tamed beast.
Krenz took a step back. "That's—that's the one we're riding?"
Atlas was already climbing onto the saddle. Maya followed without hesitation.
Krenz gulped. The wyvern's hot breath puffed against his face, nostrils flaring. He climbed up shakily, grabbing onto whatever part of the saddle he could reach.
The handler muttered, "Hope you ate light, kid."
Krenz barely had time to process that before the wyvern launched itself into the air.
The moment they left the platform, Krenz's stomach flipped. The city plummeted beneath them, a blur of neon lights and torch-lit streets. Wind screamed past his ears, and his grip tightened on the saddle straps.
They tilted sharply—his vision spun as the wyvern's wings beat against the air with terrifying force. Krenz let out a shaken yell as they soared past towering structures, the force of their movement sending loose banners snapping violently.
"WHERE ARE WE EVEN GOING?!" he screamed over the wind.
Atlas, completely unbothered, adjusted his seating. "To the Guild, of course."
Krenz barely had time to panic before the wyvern dove.