The mage stood up and cast his eyes toward the horizon, where he saw a fortress-like structure with towering metal walls bristling with countless war machines. The scaffolding tightly encased the walls, as construction was ceaselessly underway.

"It seems my luck hasn't completely run out yet, this is just the first layer of Bator Hell." The mage muttered to himself, giving himself encouragement, "Luckily I haven't fallen any deeper, or the air there would be enough to kill me instantly."

Lynch looked up at the corpse of a Flame Demon hanging on a bone pillar, formulating a plan in his mind. In this barren world, he faced vicious enemies who might take him, a weak human, out at any time for profit. However, the residents here all valued worthwhile items and greatly admired fair trade, giving him a chance to use the precious gemstone he carried to exchange for a route back to his own world. But before that, he needed to find a trustworthy individual capable of completing such a transaction.

First of all, he needed some currency other than gemstones to trade for the local money. Although the Flame Demon's corpse was nearly shattered and its most memorable curved horn and one eye had long been lost, Lynch forced himself to endure the urge to vomit and extracted the still relatively intact heart and the remaining eye.

Lynch searched as best he could for the shadow of a large rock to hide his body, despite the scarcity of such places. He endured the burning heat coming from his feet and evaded the search of the Imps. His battle with the Flame Demon had exhausted most of his spells, and now he urgently needed a place to rest.

As he ambled across the gravel-strewn land, the dry hot wind sucked all the moisture from his skin, leaving his lips cracked within moments. Though there was no scorching sun here, the sky remained perpetually crimson, as if volcanoes ceaselessly erupted above the clouds, casting an unfading light over the land. Occasionally, fireballs would shoot directly from the black clouds, creating blazing craters upon impact with the ground. All travelers here knew that the longer they stayed in the wild, the more likely they were to be claimed by the heavenly fire.

The only safe place was the Bronze Fortress, which was exactly where Lynch was heading. It was inhabited by countless Devils, clad in armor and constantly patrolling the area. Their weapons were poised to strike any daring attackers—whether the assault was physical or mental, the punishment would be severe.

This was hardly a suitable place to settle, even if it was the only available refuge. Countless battles had already erupted between Devils and Demons to define the true essence of evil. This slaughter between evils was known as the Blood War, and the Bronze Fortress stood as the bridgehead of the Blood War in Bator Hell. Hesitating for a long time in the shadow of the Bronze Fortress's towering walls, Lynch finally mustered the courage to head toward the entrance.

"There's no other way, might as well give it a try!" The mage said, supporting himself with his long staff, ignoring the long queue in front of the massive iron gate, and headed straight to the guard.

"Halt, you bumpkin!" An Osyluth approached him. He resembled a skinless human, bearing a terrifying skull. Apart from his scorpion-like tail, his sickly dry skin tightly enveloped his body, constantly emitting a foul stench. The Osyluth pointed a long spear at Lynch's chest, "Get back in line, you bumpkin! Abide by the rules here, or you'll die by my hand immediately!"

Lynch gave him a sideways glance and spoke in the purest Abyss Language: "Get out of my way, you lowly creature, don't you even recognize me?"

The Osyluth was startled, his spear quivering yet still aimed at Lynch. Indeed, within this Bronze Fortress, many Devil Masters fancied disguising themselves as humans to deceive the credulous travelers of their own kind. Judging from this human's pronunciation, he was undoubtedly a native Devil, perhaps even of noble blood.

But this owed much to Lynch's extensive study of ancient Abyss Language within the All-Knowing Tower, granting him an excellent disguise aligned with the ancient Devil families that had long become Bator Hell nobility. The mage glared at the guard once more, and his Eye of Insight turned his pupils as black as pitch. The guard, having never witnessed such a phenomenon, hastily stepped aside, trembling as he uttered, "Please, go through! Master!"

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