Chapter 24: Abyssal Critical

Ignis was woken by the cold.

It wasn’t a cold related to temperature. Although the basement was chilly, it wasn’t enough to make a Black Dragon — even a hatchling — feel uncomfortable.

It was a chill originating from the depths of his soul, as if even his thoughts were being frozen.

He opened his eyes, and it took a few seconds for his vision to refocus on the low stone vault of the basement and the dim Magic Guide Lamp.

Memories surged back like a frigid tide.

The frantic sentences in Alicia’s Notes, the possible existence of a Chaos Rift beneath the Imperial Palace, and finally… a suction force that had violently dragged his consciousness into another “layer.”

‘Abyssal… Critical…’

The term surfaced automatically in Ignis’s buzzing mind, carrying a sense of fated resonance.

He moved his neck and limbs with difficulty, his joints letting out faint clicking sounds.

The Suppression Collar was still tightly fastened around his neck. Its icy touch was exceptionally clear, acting like a chain that constantly reminded him he was not free, and also like a… potential whistleblower.

Ignis turned his head to look at the metal ring.

The collar’s body was dim, without any abnormal flickering or warning lights. The core that recorded Mana fluctuations seemed to be running steadily.

Had the collar failed to capture the abnormal energy fluctuations from just now, or was the energy disturbance in the “Abyssal Critical” state already beyond the range it could detect?

No matter which it was, it was a good thing for him.

The things recorded in the notes were clearly not allowed by the Empire’s official authorities. For now, the fewer people who knew, the better.

What about Villanelle?

Ignis contemplated for only a moment before decisively rejecting the idea.

If he told her, he would first have to explain what he was doing here and why he was able to find the entrance to this tucked-away basement.

Telling one lie was easy; the hard part was making everything consistent.

A forced explanation might work, but it would inevitably lead to suspicion.

At least for now, Ignis had no intention of telling Villanelle about his special abilities, even if she was equivalent to half a mother to him, and even if he believed she wouldn’t abandon him even if she knew.

First, his communication skills as a Dragon were limited, and he couldn’t explain it clearly. Second, Ignis hadn’t fully figured out what kind of entity he actually was.

Besides bringing Villanelle endless confusion and potential fear, what else could it bring?

Furthermore, Villanelle had more important things to accomplish, namely her studies.

The malice of the nobles, the targeting by the mastermind behind the scenes, and surviving in the academy as a Fallen Princess — she already had enough difficult things to face.

Ignis did not want Villanelle to be distracted by these messy affairs. It was enough for her to focus her energy on her schoolwork.

He would talk about this secret when the opportunity arose.

Having decided on his next step, he propped up his front limbs and tried to stand, but he stumbled.

Intense dizziness and a sense of exhaustion, as if he had been drained empty, hit him. Ignis almost fell headfirst. His head throbbed with pain, as if countless whips were lashing inside his skull.

It seemed the “Abyssal Critical” state consumed a great deal of mental strength.

Ignis lay on the ground for a while until the uncomfortable sensation finally began to fade.

Looking at the notes that had fallen on the ground in front of him, he hesitated for a moment before placing them back into the ornate wooden box. He closed the lid, picked it up, and pushed it back to the center of the stone table.

It was better to leave these notes here.

Although the partially damaged Wind Rune sets and the Magic Guide Lamp would eventually fail one day, there was no place above ground where he could hide Alicia’s Notes.

Villanelle’s current situation was not entirely safe. The notes could be found by someone with ulterior motives who might use them against her.

After putting the notes away, Ignis took one last look around the basement.

The Resonance Magic Circle drawn on the walls decades ago had returned to dullness after its brief operation. The Magic Guide Lamp remained dim, and the vessels on the stone table were scattered, as if nothing had happened.

He did not stay any longer, turning to step onto the winding spiral staircase.

He climbed the iron ladder, pushed open the ajar trapdoor, and crawled out of the tunnel. Back in the room filled with clutter, he pulled the door panel shut and pieced the loose bricks back into the gap one by one.

Once the last crate was returned to its position according to his memory, he hurried out of the room.

—

Ignis lay in his small nest by the fireplace. He looked like he was fast asleep, but he was actually digesting the contents of Alicia’s Notes.

Outside the window, the shadows of the sun were already leaning toward the west.

Laws that were not understood…

Were those multicolored flows of emotion the “Chaos” mentioned in the notes?

Suddenly, Ignis felt a hint of fear toward his own body.

What was he?

What was the essence beneath this Black Dragon shell?

Alicia mentioned in her notes that “Holy Light is bleach.” Did that mean the Holy Light believed in by the Empire and the Church was naturally opposed to Chaos?

Then, as an existence inextricably linked to Chaos, was he born standing on the opposite side of the Empire?

Footsteps came from beneath the floorboards, slow and slightly heavy. Ignis knew Villanelle had returned.

*Creak.* The door opened.

“I’m back.” She held several large books with gold-stamped covers in her arms, calling out habitually. Her voice carried a trace of exhaustion she couldn’t hide.

Ignis immediately raised his head from his nest and trotted to Villanelle’s feet, gently nuzzling her calf covered in over-the-knee socks.

“Butler Heinrich said you were missing for a few hours at noon. Did something happen?” Villanelle placed the books on the table with a thud. As she pulled several sheets of Frost Paper covered in notes from the books, she asked with concern.

Ignis shook his head.

So Heinrich had noticed his disappearance. It wasn’t a big deal; if necessary, he could just make up some excuse.

Villanelle rubbed his head, not paying too much attention to it. She pulled out the chair in front of the desk and sat down, her face looking troubled.

“The report Professor Hiram wants is really difficult…” she whispered, as if talking to Ignis or to herself. “The books in the public area are just the same standard regulations and domestication rules over and over again. And the Forbidden Books Area…”

The two strange silhouettes she had encountered that morning were still fresh in her mind, and Villanelle was a bit afraid to go back. However, there was no need to tell the little guy and make him worry.

But during the hours she had spent in the Forbidden Books Area, she hadn’t found many useful references either.

Villanelle picked up a quill pen and unconsciously twirled it between her fingertips.

“Forget it, I’ll go ask Professor Hiram again tomorrow. Although she is strict, at least… she is serious about academics.”

She seemed to be convincing herself, then looked down at Ignis and reached out to scratch his chin.

“Right? We still have time. The final exams are far off, so we can take it slow.”

Ignis nodded slowly.

‘Yes, you have your affairs to attend to. You shouldn’t waste time and energy on meaningless things… premature contact would bring you nothing but constant anxiety.’

Night fell.

Villanelle finally could not resist the weariness and went to bed. Soon, the sound of steady breathing rose.

After confirming she was fast asleep, Ignis quietly got up and walked into the shadows of the corner, away from the bed. He closed his eyes, concentrated, and began to recall the feeling from the final moments in the basement.

That sensation of consciousness being peeled away, gradually sinking and squeezing into another layer of space.

This wasn’t for the sake of power, but for control.

He did not want to passively fall into “Abyssal Critical” again; it was too dangerous. Although he was safe this time, who could guarantee nothing would go wrong next time?

The process of repeating it was difficult.

His headache flared up again. The power within his body was sometimes as silent as stagnant water and sometimes slightly restless.

He tried ten or so times, but even during the longest attempt, he only managed to make the surrounding darkness “fluctuate” slightly. It was as if a ripple had appeared on the surface of water, dissipating in less than half a second.

Just as Ignis was prepared to give up, he felt it.

With himself as the center, within a radius of about four or five steps, the texture of space seemed to change. it became significantly “thinner” and more “transparent.”

Ignis could vaguely see Villanelle sleeping soundly on the bed, looking like a steadily burning flame with a pale gold halo lingering around her.

Did he succeed?

No… this wasn’t the true “Abyssal Critical” state. At most, it was just the surface level, far from the effect he had achieved when he entered it passively this morning.

But by now, his mental strength was almost exhausted, and he could not continue practicing.

He slowly withdrew from that state and crawled back into his little nest by the fireplace.

He would rest first.

This special ability might bring many variables to the future.