Ron took the glowing parchment, carefully unfolding it.
The paper was inked with a complex map in a translucent hue, its lines sometimes clear, sometimes blurry, as if it could rearrange itself anytime due to changes in reality.
The map’s edges glimmered faintly, light not from the physical world but traces of some profound magic power etched onto the parchment.
"This... is truly astonishing."
Ron whispered softly, with his fingertips feeling a weak pulse coming from the surface of the map, as if it were a living entity.
Some areas of the map still bore faded bloodstains — likely not simple ink, but the blood of its creator.
This was an ancient and stable marking method that stayed clear despite the interference of abyssal energy.
Ron noticed that the bloodstains retained subtle traces of life energy, still not completely faded even after many years.
"Using blood as a marker is the oldest and most reliable way of abyss mapping." Lady Allen’s voice carried a hint of nostalgia.
She gently stroked the edge of the map, green lines appeared on her skin briefly before quickly disappearing.
"Ordinary ink fades fast under the abyssal air’s erosion, even distorts and deforms. But blood... especially a Wizard’s blood, can resist this erosion."
"This map is extremely precious."
Ron said earnestly, his eyes filled with gratitude as his fingertips softly traced the bloodstained areas, feeling a faint yet distinct residue of life force:
"Having this reference material will undoubtedly increase my survival chances before the official exploration."
Lady Allen gently shook her head, a self-mocking gleam flashed in her green eyes.
She drew a peculiar rune in the air with her finger, which glowed slightly before transforming into a cloud of silvery mist suspended between them.
"Don’t overestimate its value."
She projected a three-dimensional view of the map through the silver mist, revealing the twisted terrain of the abyss in a visible 3D image:
"The abyss itself is a constantly writhing creature, many places marked on the map might very well look completely different when you arrive."
With her finger’s light tap, the terrain in the projection began to warp and change, mountains sank, rivers rerouted, like a living painting constantly reshaping itself.
Ron watched engrossed, leaning forward slightly, attempting to capture every detail.
Lady Allen moved over to an old wooden chair and sat down, the noise from the chair legs scraping against the floor broke Ron’s contemplation, making him realize he had been standing and staring at the projection for quite some time.
Lilia immediately set out tea for the two, her movements smooth and unobtrusive, then quietly retreated.
The aroma of tea slowly wafted through the air, adding a serene atmosphere to the conversation.
"If you truly intend to explore the abyss."
Lady Allen sipped some tea and slightly furrowed her brow from the bitterness of the tea.
She gently blew away the steam on her tea, and the projection before her transitioned to a scene of a small town constructed of gray stone bricks:
"First, you should go to ’Ashen Town’. It’s the largest outpost town near the abyss entrance where almost everyone makes their final preparations before delving deeper."
Ron slightly leaned forward, eyes shining with the light of inquiry.
This was his instinctive reaction — when facing unknown danger, intelligence was the most crucial weapon.
He moved closer to the town projection, observing the structure and layout of those gray buildings, trying to memorize every detail.
"Ashen Town is situated at a safe distance about a day’s walk from the Abyss Edge."
Lady Allen lightly drew a line, shifting the projection towards a massive pitch-black crevice that served as the abyss’s entrance:
"Nonetheless, a faint aura from the abyss can still be felt in the town."
Her voice grew low, almost a whisper:
"It’s an unsettling oppressive feeling, as if something is constantly watching you, spying on your every move, waiting for you to reveal a flaw."
Lady Allen’s eyes narrowed slightly, black pupils constricted into a thin line in her green eyes, as if recalling some unpleasant experiences.
The projection dimmed with her emotional fluctuations, adding a thin layer of black mist above the gray town, lending the whole scene a touch of eerie atmosphere.
"Many people experience the same dream on their first night at Ashen Town — dreaming they fall into the abyss’s dark depths, where their entire being is devoured."
She gently swirled her teacup, the liquid forming a small eddy inside, like the abyss devouring life:
"Some weak-willed individuals find the dream enough to make them leave immediately the next day."
She lifted her eyes, directly meeting Ron’s gaze: "And those who stay... most eventually become one-way travelers into the abyss."
Ron instinctively straightened his back, feeling an intangible pressure emanating from Lady Allen’s words.
Through her description and the magic power projection alone, the oppressive feeling of the abyss had already formed a vague yet unsettling image in his mind.
"Ashen Town gathers all kinds of people,"
Lady Allen continued, as various figures began appearing in the projection:
Cloaked wizards, mercenaries in full armor, adventurers with enormous backpacks, shrewd merchants, and even some eccentrically dressed, absent-minded lunatics.