The Abused is The Abuser in Another World

Chapter 7: The Crucible of Pain

Noir moved cautiously through the dense, twisted forest, his senses sharp, eyes constantly scanning for any sign of danger—or of the cave that Asmodeus had described. The air was thick with mist, the ground uneven and treacherous beneath his feet, and the strange, alien sounds of the forest seemed to close in around him from all sides.

Inside his mind, Asmodeus's frustration simmered like a low, constant fire. The demon had grown more agitated with every step, his tone sharper, his impatience palpable.

"This cannot be," Asmodeus muttered, his voice filled with an odd mix of anger and confusion. "This forest... it's not how I remember. The paths have changed, the trees have grown thick and twisted. It's as if the land itself has shifted in my absence."

Noir couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction at the demon's confusion. So, even he doesn't know everything, he thought, keeping his expression neutral.

"Are you sure you know where we're going?" Noir asked, his tone mocking. "Because so far, it feels like you're just guessing. Some great demon prince, can't even navigate his own realm."

He felt a surge of irritation from Asmodeus, the demon's pride clearly wounded. "You think this is amusing?" Asmodeus growled. "This world has changed in my absence, but I will find my way. I left that weapon here—it must be close."

Noir continued to explore, moving from one cave to another, each one proving to be a dead end. With every failure, he could feel Asmodeus's frustration growing, the demon's presence in his mind becoming more agitated, more unsettled.

"I'm beginning to think you're useless," Noir said with a smirk. "For all your talk, it seems you're just as lost as I am."

"You dare mock me?" Asmodeus snapped, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. "I will find it! This world may have changed, but my memory is clear. The weapon is here—somewhere."

Noir felt a wave of irritation rising in his own chest. They had been searching for hours, and every cave looked the same. The dense fog and the twisted branches made it hard to see more than a few feet ahead, and he began to doubt they would ever find the weapon.

"How long do you plan to keep wandering?" Noir muttered. "Because I don't have time to waste on your memories."

There was a moment of tense silence, and then, suddenly, Asmodeus's voice came through, more focused, sharper. "Wait..." he said, his tone shifting. "I know this place... I remember these rocks."

Noir stopped, turning to look at the rocky outcrop ahead. To his eyes, it looked no different from countless other formations—just another pile of jagged stone. But he sensed a change in Asmodeus's demeanor, a sudden surge of recognition.

"You're sure?" Noir asked, skeptical but curious.

"I am," Asmodeus replied, his voice filled with renewed confidence. "I remember carving wards into those stones... markings to guide me back. The cave must be nearby."

Noir scanned the area and noticed faint markings on the rocks, almost erased by time but still visible. He moved toward them, pushing aside the thick brush and vines that obscured the base of the rocks.

And there, just beyond the outcrop, he saw a narrow entrance partially hidden by foliage.

"There," Asmodeus whispered, his voice tense with anticipation. "That is the entrance... the cave where I hid my weapon."