Chapter 3: Chapter 3: The Abyssal Tome

Chapter 3: The Abyssal Tome

Lily met Servin’s eyes. “We’re going to talk a little. I need a few information, since you summoned me out of the blue. What is this place, and what is going on here?”

Sevrin still looked afraid. Fair. She’d bitch-slapped him into a wall. Healed or not, he had it coming. At least he wasn’t babbling anymore.

But there was an obvious problem here: how did this clown, also leader of these idiots, summoned her? If she had to guess, most of them were level 20 at best. …Do people here even have levels? In Xantia, demon summoning wasn’t possible before level 100—and to summon something at her level, the caster had to be within 20% of the target’s level. So, around at least level 800.

I should start with the basic information…

She raised her voice slightly again. “So, tell me… human. Where are we?”

Sevrin swallowed. “The kingdom of Burm, in the northern part, my devilish Princess.”

Burm… no, nothing. There was no Burm in Xantia. But maybe…

“How is the continent named?” she asked.

“We are on Pangrea, my Hellishness.”

Pangrea. Okay, that is a continent in Xantia. Maybe just coincidence?

She had an idea. Pangrea was her home continent in Xantia; she knew it pretty well. If this matched, the dominant power would be obvious.

“Do you know the Xares Empire?”

Sevrin paused, thinking. Then: “You mean the fallen Empire of Xares?”

“…Fallen?”

“Yes. It collapsed almost four hundred years ago, my unholy Grace.”

Four hundred years… In Xantia, Xares wasn’t fallen. Not by a long shot. So—maybe it’s the same world with a different history or a different era or something like that. The coincidences are here at least.

I’m probably in Xantia, but not the Xantia I knew… At least I can assume it’s the same world. Just an era later.

In Xantia the Empire was at the peak of its might, because the biggest Pangrea guilds supported it. But if it’s the same world… maybe—no. Too early. It’s probably just coincidence, and only hope is talking...

Whatever.

The next question was a little awkward, but Lily decided to push it anyway. They already thought of her as some demon princess from another realm, so why should she care what they thought? Better to get facts.

“Do you have a system status? And if so, what’s your class and level?” she asked, voice steady.

Sevrin looked at her a little confused, then straightened his back as if he was giving a military report. “Yes… of course everyone has a status, Infernal Majesty! I am honored to say that your unworthy servant has reached the hefty level of 26! With the current main class of a [Cultist Acolyte]!”

Lily didn’t move, but inwardly she jumped. So, levels exist here. That at least makes sense, and explains why I’m in my avatar. But then the cringe caught up to her, hitting like a wall. Level 26? A [Cultist Acolyte]? And the way he said it, dripping with obsequious nonsense, good grief. She tried to ignore it, but the whole situation was too much.

You’d think that if you got killed on Earth and dragged into a parallel world by summoning, you’d wake up in a castle, maybe as a heroine with capable allies at your side. Not in a damp cave with a bunch of low-budget edgelords who looked like they’d borrowed their lines from a bad B-movie.

She sighed inwardly. This had to stop, but there was another pressing matter first. She fixed her eyes on Sevrin, her voice sharp. “So, tell me, Acolyte, how did you summon me? Step by step. And keep it simple… and stop with these honorifics. I don’t have time for that,” she added quickly. For real, how many dumb adjectives did he have to pile on her?

“O-of course… my lady?” he tried.

She gave him a short nod. Better.

From his robe, Sevrin produced a book. “I was gifted by the dark forces with this tome, the sacred wisdom of the Abyss—”

Lily’s eyes widened. On the cover wasn’t some eldritch design, but something she recognized instantly. The desktop symbol from Xantia. A magic circle with an X in the middle, and around it in English letters: Explore Xantia, the New World!

Her grip tightened.

Meanwhile, Sevrin kept babbling—how he’d found the book in a secret library, how none but he had seen its worth, how he alone had understood its dark secrets and gathered like-minded fools to form this cult. Lily barely heard a word. She stretched out her hand.

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“Give it to me.”

He froze, shocked. But then his cheek must have remembered the slap, because after a pause he handed it over.

Lily opened it. Inside, the text was all runic glyphs. Somehow, she could read them anyway—not surprising at this point. If she woke up inside her game avatar, why wouldn’t she? Probably the local script. The pages held necromancy spells, basic dark arts, mostly beginner material. She flipped past them until a page stopped her.

English.

Warning! Only proceed in a time of need. The following pages describe the summoning of a cataclysm-level being! This being will restore the balance of the world. Proceed only in extremity.

Lily’s brow twitched. She turned the page toward Sevrin. “Can you read this?”

He peered at it, then shook his head. “No, my lady. That is the writing of the gods. None can read it. But I knew it was important! Because it is written so!”

Lily shut her eyes. Of course. A world-ending warning written in a language no one here can read. Perfect.

She turned the page again. Runic script.

Summoning of the Demon Princess of the Abyss.

Step-by-step instructions. Illustrated. Practically an idiot’s guide.

And it was… easy. Too easy. She knew the basic summoning runes from her RP days in Xantia. Early in her career as a Demon Princess, she’d learned the mechanics for flavor. But now, she noticed something else; thirty minutes in this body and she already understood the runes on a deeper level, like the knowledge had sunk into her bones.

The circle was drawn only with tier-1 runes. Dozens of them, yes, but still basic. She frowned and turned, walking back to the summoning circle where she’d woken. She crouched and traced a finger along the markings.

The same runes. Exactly. Except…

Her mouth twisted. “You idiots,” she muttered.

Some were switched. Here wrong symbols entirely. And there, no rune at all where one was needed. And that? She squinted. That rune was set sideways.

She flipped back in the book, scanning. Yes. There it was. A tracking rune—meant to locate the entity with the title Princess of the Abyss. But here, in this circle, it was aligned wrong.

Her stomach dropped. They hadn’t summoned the intended target of the book. They’d summoned… anyone who matched the title.

Me.

She groaned aloud, shutting the book with a snap.

These idiots had really done it. They had summoned her by accident.

☽⛧☾

Sevrin watched the Demon Princess as she leafed through his treasure—the book, the one that had guided him for years. His breath was still uneven, his cheek still ached where her hand had landed, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

They had used the binding spells, yes, and they had failed. But after she had nearly killed him, and then, without hesitation, gifted him a potion more powerful than anything he’d ever seen, Sevrin no longer believed it was their mistake. No. The failure had been part of her nature. She was beyond those bindings. She was meant to be free.

Besides, they had at least tried, hadn’t they? She would understand that, as a demon. The attempt to bind her was proof of their devotion, not betrayal. At least, that’s what he told himself as his heart hammered every time her crimson eyes flicked toward him.

And she owed them something, didn’t she? She would see that. After all, he had freed her from whatever dark prison had shackled her existence, tearing her out of the Abyss and unleashing her back onto the world. Without him, she would still be locked away, nameless, and voiceless.

So, the purpose of summoning her was not wrong. It was destiny.

She would bring this kingdom to ruin; this cursed kingdom that had done nothing for him or his brothers and sisters. The academy had expelled him, branded him a heretic. His own family had turned their backs, disowned him like he was nothing but filth beneath their shoes.

Yes. The kingdom would fall. And with the Demon Princess at their head, the Children of the Abyss would finally have their vengeance.

The princess groaned as she snapped the book shut. Sevrin instantly took a step back, every nerve screaming caution. Then her red eyes fixed on him.

“All right. I’ll keep this book for now.”

The tome vanished into thin air.

Sevrin’s mouth opened in protest, but he stopped himself. He had learned his lesson, at least for now. He bowed low. “As you wish, my dark radiance—”

“Mh?”

He froze. “—my lady.”

“Good. Then…” Her gaze swept around the damp cave, unimpressed. “What did you plan after you summoned me? You don’t actually intend for me to live in a hole in the ground, do you?”

Of course not! That was what Sevrin wanted to say, but the truth lodged bitter in his throat. They… hadn’t planned that far ahead. In their heads it had all been simple: summon the Demon Princess, bind her, and then march on the kingdom. Everything afterward would simply… take care of itself. Like fate would just carry them along.

Luckily, Marie spoke up before the silence strangled him. She was the one who had begged for mercy earlier, also the one who had given the potion to him when the Princess allowed it.

“We have prepared accommodations for your arrival, Your Grace!” Marie said quickly, bowing low even as she pressed herself to the wall.

The others nodded at once, voices tumbling over each other. “Yes, yes! Right upstairs!”

Preparations? Sevrin blinked, momentarily confused. Had they done something without telling him? But then he caught Marie’s firm expression and realized—yes. He could rely on them.

The Princess’s face stayed unreadable, but she gave a small nod. “Well then. Let’s leave this cave.”

Sevrin turned at once, forcing authority into his voice. “Follow me, Princess!” He switched a look toward Marie, who simply nodded back, already moving ahead of them to lead the way.

When they climbed the stairs, the damp air of the cave gave way to the cellar of the little mansion they had taken over these past weeks. It had once belonged to a wealthy merchant, tucked away in the forest. His misfortune was that Sevrin and his cult had chosen it during the last full moon, raiding the place and killing its inhabitants to claim it as their temporary base.

The Princess walked behind them, her crimson eyes drifting over everything, her face a mask of disinterest. That expression—or lack of one—was unnerving. Marie led them into the main hall, where the cult had set up their “victory meal.” Of course! Sevrin almost laughed aloud. They had planned a feast for this moment, the celebration of their successful summoning and the dawn of their reign over the kingdom. Every last bit of the merchant’s storeroom had been dragged out, piled high on the table. They were planning to abandon the mansion tomorrow anyway, so why not use it all now?

He grinned, spreading his arms wide. “A feast to honor your arrival, Princess!”

The Demoness swept the hall with her red eyes. They lingered on the bloodstained floorboards, remnants of their raid they hadn’t bothered to clean, and then she strode forward and sat herself at the table without a word.

Good job Marie! Sevrin thought, relief pricking at him.

The others shuffled awkwardly at the edges of the hall, unsure what to do with themselves. Meanwhile, the Princess leaned forward and began to inspect the food, her expression unreadable. Perhaps she has never eaten mortal food before?

She touched nothing for a moment, simply examining. Then, without hesitation, she poured herself wine into a goblet, lifted it, and downed it all in one gulp.