Garden Of The Abyss - Chapter 447

“We, the Velren, are a prideful people, Ren,” Rohan said while running his hand over the lock, “as such, we don’t ask for favors with the reliance of one’s own goodwill being the groundwork.”

As Rohan explained this, he used the sharp nail of his index finger to slit the palm of his right hand, pressing it against the steel surface of the lock.

“What’re you…?” He began to ask, but stopped.

Filling the spiral grooves, the blood seeping from the elder’s cut palm replaced the emptiness of the lock with a fresh crimson as a click resounded.

…Just what the hell is he trying to offer me? I’d feel bad for taking something this coveted, but I don’t think he’ll take no for an answer, he thought.

Without answering, the macaque elder stood up as he placed his hands on the edges of the chest’s lid. Rohan strained himself to lift the heavy lid, but surprisingly managed to lift it before he could try to assist him.

He’s…got it? He’s pretty strong for his size, he thought.

A heavy thud resounded as the old, dense cover was flipped, releasing a cloud of old, gathered dust as the contents of the chest had likely been in stagnation for many years.

What the elder macaque retrieved from the old chest wasn’t what his vision expected to lay on; a small, gold-clasped ring.

Black engravings ran along the edges, embroidered with crimson and emerald jewels; by all means, it was a lavish item.

“What is this?” He asked, enamored by the object.

Rohan held it with a handkerchief wrapped around its immaculate form, “It’s “The Shifting Seraphic Gilded Ring”, a treasure that was wielded by the Monkey King, a time long ago. It is said to grant abilities that warp to whoever wears it.”

Immediately, he knew he couldn’t take it once he heard of its origin. As beautiful as the treasured ring looked, it was far too important.

“Elder Rohan…I can’t accept this. It’s something belonging to someone your people worship; an object like this isn’t mine to have,” he said softly.

Rohan grumbled, “I knew you’d say something like that, which is why I am fully committed to the idea of you being its owner, Ren!”

“Huh?!” He let out in confusion.

He was pressed as the wizened macaque shoved the gilded ring towards him, coaxing him to accept it as he tried to reject it further.

“I can’t accept something like this!” He said with a huff.

“Ren, you’re mistaken. It’s true that the Monkey King is one we revere, but he is no idol of worship. In fact, his existence is truly only known to us elders, and a select few others,” Rohan assured him with furrowed eyebrows, “do you understand? It has been sitting here in stagnation, all of these years–it deserves a wielder who will use it.”

Pacing around the small room, Rohan grumbled as he tried to convince the adolescent human to accept the item.

“If you want me to help out the village so badly, I’ll do it for free, alright? The Stormfallen were after me initially, so it’s not like I’m doing it just for the Velren!” He tried to convince the elder.

“Nonsense! You earned our protection by the rules of our people; us relying on your strength will be the greatest embarrassment our people could suffer. The Monkey King’s ring seeks a proper warrior to wield it! I am simply acting as an intermediary to supply it to its new, rightful owner!” Rohan contested.

There was hardly anything he could do to get through to the stubborn elder as the small macaque pressed his words into him fervently. He began to become irritated by the fact his words didn’t seem to get through to the elder’s ears.

Is this guy off his rockers or something?! What’s so hard to understand about not handing off precious relics to outsiders?! He thought.

“Even so, what makes you think I’m the “rightful owner”, anyway? I’m just some random guy who managed to beat your champion! You can’t just hand off your most treasured relic to me, you reckless elder!” He contested directly back.

“You understand little, Ren. There is no singular metric for being “rightful”, it is simply up to you to make yourself its rightful wielder. Again, I assure you this relic is not of worship, but if it was–I’d gladly give it to you a hundred times over if it meant saving my people. Even still, I would never accept you risking your life out of pity for our people! A fair exchange must be made! If you value the Umber Cloud enough that you would protect it out of your own kindness, then you must value it! If you value it, then this is a trade as fair as any! Can you reject that conviction, Ren?”

Rohan spoke seriously as he held the gilded, glistening ring up to his eyes; even in the dark, shadowy room, the lavish metals still shone with a residual divinity.

He knew well what the desperation that the elder felt was; the longing look in his eyes that watched him anxiously for his answer.

He’s prepared to give this up if it means saving his people, and he doesn’t want to rely simply on the goodwill of strangers. I understand your resolve, Elder Rohan, he thought.

Finally giving his decision to the elder, he slowly shook his head.

“…I accept…”

As he placed his hand on the golden, compact jewelry with his resolved words leaving the lips, an expression of absolute joy took place on the elder’s face.

“Thank you, Ren! I will never forget this!” Rohan bowed his head.

“No need for all of that,” he laughed, “after all, this is a trade, not a favor.”

Rohan breathed out with a smile, “You’re completely right.”

Taking the glove off of his right hand, he accepted the treasured, golden ring as he slowly slid it down his wedding finger.

Looking at it on his hand, he understood at that moment why some people were obsessed with the vain beauty of jewelry; it spoke of exuberance, but even more so, it was something with history engraved into its fantastic metal.

“How do you feel? Do you feel the effects of the ring?” Rohan asked.

He answered after a moment, shrugging his shoulders, moving his tongue around his mouth, and stretching his limbs, “…I don’t really feel any different.”

“Give it some time. Like I said, you have to earn the right to wear it, Ren. The shifting ring grows and changes with the one who wears it; it is said that in his time, the Monkey King cultivated the ring from a meager accessory into a relic of godlike power,” Rohan assured him.

Are all enchantments in this world so secretive? He thought.

He let out a small sigh, pulling his glove back over his ring-wearing hand as he followed the elder back into the main, scented chamber.

“So…”

“What do you want me to do? Fight those “Abyppo” things?” He asked, already knowing what the warchief was going to ask.

Rohan grumbled a bit, “It’s a dangerous task, Ren. I’m sure as a Purgatory challenger, you understand well what sort of creatures dwell within its bowels. So, listen…only defeat the abyppoes. Use the element of surprise and swiftness to your advantage, and stealthiness, if possible. Don’t focus on the other Stormfallen–especially not the champion, that is for another time. Do you understand? Only the abyppoes.”

The elder warchief was serious in his words as he looked up at the eyepatch-wearing young man with focused eyes.

He let out a small breath, “I’ve got it, alright? Don’t worry. I’m starting to think I specialize in hunting monsters, anyway.”

As he tightened the laces of his boots to prepare for the upcoming battle, he looked up at the bread-eating elder as a question popped into his mind.

“I’ve been wondering about something,” he said.

“Mm?”

“About the Stormfallen champion…you keep talking like it’s something “fated” to happen, like it’s guaranteed that he’ll show up,” he stood up as he spoke, looking down at the small elder.

Rohan stroked his sable mane for a moment as he finished off the piece of monmon bread he held in his fingers.

“I told you that we don’t stand much of a chance against the Stormfallen in combat,” Rohan said quietly.

“You did, yeah,” he nodded.

Rohan continued, “I guess there’s no point in omitting any further information you should be privy to, now that you’re going to be directly involved in the conflict. In truth, I decided, with the other four elders agreeing, that a siege would be our best–no, our only path to victory.”

Washing down his words with a gulp of tea, Rohan paused for a moment as the young man raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not following,” he responded.

Rohan continued, “If we hold them off from the walls long enough, the option of  “single combat” will have to be agreed upon by the Stormfallen. If that’s the case, it will be up to you to represent the Velren, and battle their champion. Right now, they believe they have the advantage with the abyppoes to break down our walls. That is why it is paramount to prevent that from happening, you see.”

He knew it already, but this further confirmed it in his head: Rohan wasn’t one to be underestimated.

This guy…he really planned this all from the beginning, didn’t he? He thought.

“Well, there’s just one factor you have to bet on…” He said.

“And that is?” Rohan asked.

“That I’m strong enough to beat their champion,” he smiled.

Only a small laugh was shared between them, though the look that the macaque gave him said “I fully believe you are.”

After his trade with the macaque elder, he found himself ascending the steps that led to the posts atop the magic-build, mud walls just a half of an hour later.

Beneath his boots, the steps squelched as the muddy material was softened by the continuously falling rain.

Up ahead, he could see the chimpanzee soldiers firing arrows from their vine-made bows, while the gorillas tossed rocks down the sides of the walls. None of the mages could assist as it took the entirety of their forces to maintain the gargantuan wall; he could tell from a glance now what Rohan meant by them being on the losing end.

Only focus on taking down the abyppoes, then immediately return up the walls–that’s all I’m doing, he reminded himself.