Infinite System Inheritor Return From The Abyss

In the heart of the Abyss, where molten rivers flowed beside jagged black cliffs and the very air burned with raw mana, the Centennial Bino Festival had begun — an event only held once every hundred years to honor strength, bloodline, and dominance.

Tens of thousands of demons gathered in a massive crater that served as the Bino Clan's dueling ground. Cracked obsidian stone formed a circular arena at its center, Fires danced in bone sconces around the circle, casting flickering orange light across the roaring crowd.

At the center of the arena stood Malara, the youngest and most promising warrior of the Bino. She was tall — towering over most demons — but retained the graceful proportions of a human. two curved horns arched back from her forehead, her black hair tied high in a coiled braid. Her wings, leathery and midnight-black, tucked closely against her back. Her crimson eyes burned with fire, and her feet were bare, grounded firmly on the etched stone.

Her opponent stomped into the ring — a Drakonid from the far-east clans of the Abyss. He was a muscular, lizard-like demon with emerald scales that shimmered with enchantments. Slitted eyes glared at Malara, and his spiked tail lashed behind him. His claws scraped the ground with every step. His tongue flicked out once — testing the air, sensing her mana.

The announcer, a horned war-priest, raised a staff made of Abyss-bone and flame.

"By the laws of the Abyss Lord, by the honor of the Bino's and the pride of Drakonids… BEGIN!"

The moment the staff hit the ground, the two blurred into motion. The Drakonid lunged forward like a cannonball — low stance, right claw slicing through the air toward Malara's side.

Malara didn't move her feet. Instead, her right wing unfurled with a sharp snap and knocked the claw aside mid-swing. In the same breath, she stepped forward, twisted her hip, and drove a heavy uppercut into the Drakonid's jaw. The sound of impact echoed like a drum across the arena.

The crowd roared.

The Drakonid stumbled back, hissing, but regained his balance and leapt again, this time feinting a claw and twisting midair, his tail sweeping low to trip her.

Malara jumped.

Midair, her wings flared wide, holding her in place just enough for her to flip over the spinning tail. She landed hard, both feet cracking the ground, and charged — all four fists swinging in a rapid flurry.

Left jab — blocked. Right cross — grazed his chin. A double hammer-fist slammed into his chest and sent him flying back.

The wall of the arena cracked where the Drakonid hit, but he didn't stay down. He used the momentum to rebound, kicking off the wall with a furious roar. His body spun midair, claws out like a cyclone.

Malara's expression sharpened.

She raised both arms to guard, but this time — she wasn't defensive.

She caught him mid-spin, her hands locking around his wrists, wings snapping to balance herself. Using his own speed against him, she twisted — hard — and drove him headfirst into the arena floor.

BOOM.

A cloud of dust exploded around them. The stone cratered from the force, and silence fell for a brief moment.

Then the cheers came — louder than before. Blood dripped from the corner of Malara's lip, but she grinned. The Drakonid lay still, his body half-buried in the stone, groaning.

"Winner! Malara of the Bino's!" shouted.

The demons in the stands howled her name. Some pounded their chests, others threw embers into the air in celebration.

Malara stood tall, wings folding behind her and she bow.

The crowd around the ancient stone arena slowly began to quiet down, the cheers fading into satisfied murmurs as Malara approached her opponent — a Drakonid male whose scaled arms trembled as he tried to push himself up from the cracked ground where he had fallen.

He was taller than most, built like a warrior who had trained under the great volcanoes of the southern Abyss, and yet now he was looking up at Malara with a tired smile that showed nothing but respect.

Malara bent down and with one firm pull, she helped him rise to his feet, her strength making it seem effortless. The Drakonid grunted softly but nodded in thanks, shaking the dust from his arms and wiping the blood from the side of his mouth with the back of his scaled hand.

"I am no match to you, Malara," he said in a low voice, still catching his breath. "That last hit made my bones sing."

Malara tilted her head slightly and gave him a proud smile, "It's thanks to Lord Seojun," she replied, her voice calm but filled with pride.

The Drakonid's eyes widened a bit, his tail flicking behind him slowly as he let out a low, amused growl. "To be trained by the Abyss Lord himself... I envy you," he said. "I've only heard stories. I wish I could meet him, even just once."

Malara chuckled lightly and was about to respond when the ground beneath their feet began to tremble — first softly, like the stirring of some large beast in its sleep, then more fiercely, enough to make the stones in the arena shift and dust fall from the tall spires surrounding them.

The crowd around the arena went still, no one panicked, because in the Abyss, such things were not unusual, and those who lived here knew when to run and when to wait.

Instead of fear, there was only alertness.

The guards with wings flew lower to guide the young demons away from the open space, their movements practiced and calm, while older demons formed protective circles around the little ones, placing their arms or tails in front of them, making sure they were shielded just in case.

The elders began to murmur words of calm, and the high demon (priests) raised their staffs to scan the area for danger, but nothing burst from the ground, and no creatures appeared.

Malara reached out and placed a steady hand on the Drakonid's back, her eyes focused on the shifting earth beneath her feet.

"Don't move," she said quietly, her eyes glowing faintly red.

The tremor lasted only a few more seconds, but during that time it felt like something old and powerful had just awakened, or perhaps turned its attention briefly to their world, like a breath being drawn by something no one could see. Then it stopped.

A soft silence spread across the whole area.

One of the winged guards landed beside the high priest and gave a quick bow. "No breach," he said firmly. "Everyone is safe."

Another one confirmed, "It was just a deep tremor. Probably from under the Bone Pillar Ridge. Nothing surfaced."

Malara slowly stood upright again, her wings stretching once before folding back neatly. Her eyes turned upward to the swirling red sky of the Abyss, as if trying to feel something more than what she could see.

There was something familiar in the air, The Drakonid noticed her expression and tilted his head. "Something wrong?"