Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest-Chapter 330: Walls of the Eldjötnar

"Cough, Cough."

The moment they stepped through the Gate, Achilles and Garduck gripped their throat as their knees bent against their wills.

The change in atmosphere struck Adam, too. He pinched his scrunched nose, his fingers sliding on the dripping sweat covering his ashen skin. Ashes, sulfur, and terrifying heat blended in a deadly cocktail, making the air heavy and unbreathable even to him.

With a click of his tongue, he took a deep inhale, his body slowly adjusting to this place. Then, giving time for his companions to adapt, he observed his surroundings.

Rivers of lava flowed everywhere, dividing the molten rocks in a canvas of glowing cracks. Charred mountains reached for the sky, unable to pierce the thick swirling clouds of volcanic fallout.

More than mere clouds, they gave him the impression the sky itself cursed this place with the rumbling red sheen hidden in their depths as if lava pillars would rain down to punish this obsidian land and its inhabitants. Wait... Aside from Surtr, who could survive here?

"So, that’s Muspelheim?" He muttered, shaking his head and glancing around, noticing ruined traces of civilisation in a rough wall and collapsed buildings.

Only the Gate they had emerged from still stood as the last relic from the lord who had the misfortune of starting his journey in such an inhospitable realm.

He sighed and gazed through the horizon. "We have a cocky lord who managed to survive in the demon realm, so perhaps I’ll find someone who developed here against all odds."

"Cough. I doubt that, Adam. Even demons would suffocate with this stale air." Garduck stumbled toward him, trying to stand straight despite the sweaty trail he left in his trail.

Meanwhile, Achilles cursed under his breath as gray water roiled from his skin to protect him in an evaporating shroud. "By the blood of heroes, what Muspelheim. This is the last layer of hell—a place damned, then forgotten by the gods."

Adam chuckled. The last layer of hell? It was colder than anything, but even there, the environment wasn’t this harsh. He shook his head with an amused smile and unfurled his Abyssal Wayfinder.

Demonic flames danced on the parchment surface, painting a map of the surrounding 60.000 kilometers in the blink of an eye.

As expected, barren lands took up ninety percent of the space. The last ten, however... ’Mhh? Is there a native’s village south, or is it another lord’s ruin?’

His eyes narrowed on the mountains before he shook his head. They were too small to fit Ifrit’s tastes.

With a nod, he rolled the map, strapped it back to his belt, and pointed to the silhouette of a towering pillar far on the horizon. "Let’s move south first. I don’t know what that is, but if it’s a volcano, he’s definitely inside."

As he moved out, Garduck and Achilles clicked their tongues in annoyance.

"Tsk. Why couldn’t this troublemaker be like Bart? Settle in a forest and have children? Forests are great—no, they’re the best."

Achilles nodded, smoke rising from his Greek sandals with every echo of his steps. "I bet even Tartarus is better than here."

"Hehehe." Adam laughed, amused by the unintentional irony.

"Why are you laughing?" Achilles frowned, but he only shrugged the question off and continued their infernal journey.

After a few hours, they reached the broadest lava river. The magma brightening their faces seemed to banish the concept of shadows as Adam winked playfully at Achilles. "Wanna take a swim?"

Garduck chuckled while Achilles snorted and raised his spear. "You promised me glorious battles against unmatched enemies. Even if I died, I wouldn’t have complained, but this? Be honest. Are you trying to use the environment to kill me?"

He slammed his spear down, shattering the ground. The wind picked up, his two divine horses neighing as they pulled his golden chariot down the sky.

Meanwhile, Adam shook his head. "Why would I? And do you believe I took you with me to retrieve someone?" His lips curled into a broad grin. "We’ll move to the real mission after."

Honestly, he found it fun not to tell Achilles everything. It felt like he gave him a taste of his own medicine while mocking him.

Achilles rolled his eyes and leapt on his chariot. Holding the hot reins, he swung his arm. "Jump in. I won’t waste time travelling in this horrible realm."

Adam and Garduck joined him and held the already burning railings.

The horses neighed in discomfort, throwing aggrieved glances at them as Achilles murmured comforting words. Then, the sharp snap of the reins reverberated as they bolted through the sky.

Orange blurs flashed in their eyes for an hour before Adam patted Achilles and pointed at tall walls pulsing with fiery runes atop a flat mountainside.

Curious to see what lay behind and worried about Garduck’s pale complexion and the puddle of sweat beneath his feet, he commanded.

"Move the chariot up. Rushing this expedition will only drain us, so let’s take a break."

Though he could endure, even Achilles’ breath came out ragged. Worse, the water enveloping him had noticeably thinned.

With a reluctant twist of his lips, Achilles nodded but didn’t open his mouth. Saliva became a precious treasure to his parched throat, so how could he speak?

Adam was right. They needed fresh water and to resupply their salt reserves, or only three weathered bags of bones would meet Ifrit, not to mention the rapidly deteriorating conditions of the horses.

Although of divine lineage, Muspelheim devoured their stamina like a relentless beast, causing them to foam at the mouth and smoke to rise from their drenched backs.

With their immediate need established, Achilles drove his chariot above the walls, sighing in relief at the intact buildings carved from the mountain’s basalt.

Meanwhile, Adam leaned over the railing, his eyes narrowing on the hundreds of dark faces snapping up. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

An icy shudder ran down his spine at their colossal sizes and how their hands gripped giant cleavers and glinting double-edged axes.

"Intruders! Take arms, brothers!" The one who sounded the alarm pointed his cleaver at the chariot, his burning features, akin to molten rocks, distorted in fury. "The Eldjötnars won’t tolerate your impudence!"