Tars had already stood up to leave.

  Beside him, the Abyssal Language teacher cast a pleading look for help.

  He recalled what this teacher had said—she had been trapped in that room, unable to leave. This meant her presence here today was only possible because of his arrival. However, the moment he had approached earlier, he noticed her expression was off; it suggested that even if she hadn't visited the dining hall in centuries, her knowledge of the castle allowed her to deduce exactly what kind of "dishes" would be served.

  "I have some questions I'd like to ask the teacher," Tars attempted to say after walking a short distance.

  "I shall bring her to see you shortly. Please return to your room and rest first," the old butler replied.

  Tars glanced back, signaling that he had done his best. He then followed the butler back to his quarters.

  The moment the door closed, he began to re-examine the room. Since this ancient castle might still harbor some hidden treasures, he felt compelled to keep a sharp eye out and conduct a small search. In truth, he was also curious to find a portrait or some likeness of the legendary "Young Master" to see what the fellow actually looked like.

  He scouted around the room, starting with the inconspicuous corners. Some items crumbled the moment he touched them, giving him the impression that this wasn't just due to the passage of time or natural weathering.

  The "victory-through-the-corners" strategy was a failure, so he redirected his search toward the cabinets near the head of the bed.

  Thud! Thud! Thud!

  "Young Master, I have brought your Abyssal Language teacher," the butler's voice called from outside.

  Tars walked over and opened the door himself.

  The two outside looked at him with differing expressions. The butler remained respectful; after a bow, he turned and departed. The "beloved" teacher, however, immediately began to retch the moment the butler was out of sight.

  "I thought you would have disposed of the contents on the plate while he was escorting me out..." Tars said by the door.

  "Do you think I didn't try?" The teacher wiped the corner of her mouth, a flick of the hand with the ringed finger sending a glob of mud flying nearby.

  The two entered the room, and she only seemed to relax once the door was shut.

  "Can you tell me a bit about yourself?" Tars took the initiative.

  She looked around and sat in a chair; she truly seemed to loathe standing.

  "A name? Does it matter? Anyone who knew my name likely no longer exists, and I am nearly forgetting it myself," she said, crossing her legs. "I am merely an ordinary succubus scholar. I was invited by the City Lord to teach the Young Master the Abyssal Language."

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  Tars froze for a moment, once again confused by the nature of the Abyss. A succubus was a bona fide demon, yet here was one claiming to be a "scholar." He didn't dwell on it too long, however, as something else piqued his curiosity more.

  "Even demons need someone to teach them Abyssal?" he asked, utterly perplexed.

  He had even wondered if the Young Master wasn't a demon at all, but that would trigger even more questions. And this lady had admitted to being a succubus—and a scholar at that. It was quite bizarre that scholars were popping up among the demons of the Abyss.

  The beautiful but still slightly cracked succubus scholar laughed for a good while. Perhaps because she hadn't fully recovered, her laughter occasionally sounded raspy.

  "It seems you truly are not from the same place as I."

  The scholar’s eyes flickered with a slight curve at the corner of her mouth. She made that cryptic remark, paused, and then continued.

  "Demons do not only exist in the Abyss. At any given time, there are those who long to escape the Abyss entirely. They try every means possible—though I do not know the specifics of how they do it, for my ancestors were already not of the Abyss," she said, pointing to the floor with a smile. "This castle beneath your feet does not belong to the Abyss either."

  "Everything in this castle, except for you, comes from a planar world that never saw the sky. It wasn't even as vast as a single layer of the Abyss. There were demons, humans, and many furry creatures there, none of them particularly unpleasant. But it was a place destined to have no future..."

  "The demon-kin there spoke a 'Demonic Language' derived from Abyssal, specifically to avoid accidentally channeling Abyssal power."

  The beautiful scholar continued her narration with a smile.

  "So, you can think of this castle as a small lifeboat. When our planar world faced destruction, we fled here, to the Abyss."

  Tars scratched his head, feeling his horizons broaden once again. "Then this is a remarkably large boat..."

  "No, it is tiny," the succubus laughed. "The planar world was our 'big ship.' Our ancestors came from a massive Main World. When that world was ending, they built the planar worlds to escape. Of course, many living there didn't know that—which is why I am a scholar. Those fools thought the world was just the way it looked, believing our families had lived in that small place for eternity."

  "I had long wanted to come here, to see what the sky in the Abyss looked like. The books said the Abyssal sky isn't beautiful..." She looked at him, seemingly seeking confirmation.

  Tars could only scratch his head again. "So, where is this 'Young Master'? And how can I help you so you can go out and see the... 'scenery' of the Abyss?"

  He decided to get back to business rather than discuss the view.

  "I came to this castle after discovering the anomalies of our world, hoping to seek refuge through the City Lord's power. But in the two years before we left the plane, I never held a formal lesson. I never even saw the Young Master's face. He seemed... unique. He apparently couldn't even withstand basic linguistic comprehension spells; Abyssal had to be taught from the absolute basics. As a scholar, that actually troubled me."

  The beautiful succubus scholar kept smiling. Whether she spoke of the history of a vanished world or the people and knowledge of a place that no longer existed, her smile never faltered.

  If she was telling the truth, then their homeland and their world might consist of only her and the old butler.

  Tars's hand almost never left his head. Every word she spoke felt like an invisible hand playing a prank, tugging at the few hairs on the back of his neck. The death of worlds and the destruction of planes felt surreal to him. For an uncultured fellow who had only mastered a few Zero-Ring spells, these were scenarios he had never even imagined.

  "At one point, I even thought the Young Master didn't truly exist, though seeing this room has dispelled some of those doubts," she said. "Since Old Ezel has gone mad, perhaps we can play along with his performance. I've thought of this long ago, but for centuries, I've lacked a lead actor..."

  Tars blinked, feeling that this scholar was a bit unreliable. In this castle fallen to some unknown corner of the Abyss, he was being asked to play "house" with two centenarians.