"I can help you, but you and the wounded veiled butterfly beast would have to follow me down to Abyssal Coil."

Jura set his first condition. His dislike for the surface kept him from conducting the treatment on land.

"If you can agree to this, then I’ll help you."

"Of course..." Tivinir immediately bit his tongue. Yes, he was willing to descend down to Abyssal Coil and leave everything behind to pursue Yiwa’s treatment. However, the wounded beast was attached to Nytherael, and he wasn’t sure Yiwa would agree.

"What’s the problem?" Sseraphis asked as he sensed his hesitation. "Don’t tell me that you look down on my Abyssal Coil?"

Tivnir cringed. "No, not at all," he dismissed Sseraphis’ doubts.

Even though he’d never been to the Abyssal Coil and had his reservations about the place from rumours of the monstrosities that took place down there, he couldn’t ignore the fact that they held the solution to Yiwa’s predicament.

"I’m worried that Yiwa won’t agree to come with me."

"Well, that’s no issue," Sseraphis said. He snapped his head towards his brother. "Go fetch the butterfly."

Ssirel clasped his hands together. His eyes burning holes on Sseraphis’ body. "Do I look like a dog to you?"

"Do you want me to answer that?"

Ssirel growled. The deep sound from his throat was threateningly low, and broken that a normal beast would tremble at the sound of it, however, in the presence of beasts like Sseraphis, Aeltharion, Jura and Fior who were used to him, it fell short of threatening.

Once he noticed that no one was reacting, he threw in the towel and headed back into the inn.

"Do you think Yiwa will agree to come along."

Sseraphis pressed his lips shut. Aeltharion and Fior too dared not answer him.

"Oh, child... the surface has you all twisted," Jura let out. He reached into his snack bag only to realize that he had run out. "He best hurry. My patience just ran out."

In a few minutes, Ssirel walked out of the inn carrying Yiwa like a sack of maize on his shoulders.

Tivnir understood why the Abyssal beasts had reacted strangely when he spoke of consent. Clearly, Ssirel was never going to ask Yiwa for his permission.

"What about Nytherael. He won’t take kindly to kidnapping his personal servant."

"Mmmh... he’ll get over it. "

Before Tivnir could argue further, Sseraphis activated a shadow teleporter. A gateway to Abyssal Coil opened in each of their shadows. Their shadows came alive, wrapped around them, and pulled them in.

The next instant, they arrived in his underwater palace. Serpents emerged from the shadows and bowed in complete obedience.

"Welcome home, Lord Sseraphis."

Sseraphis gave no face to them and hurried down to his room with Aeltharion. "Have a lovely stay in my humble abode," he shouted as he locked the door behind him.

"That was rude."

"Welcome to the abyss. Manners don’t exist here, only power and fear," Fior enlightened his innocent mind.

The serpents rose and returned to the shadows, unfazed by the lack of appreciation for their greeting.

The rules were different from life on the surface, and it blew Tivnir’s mind away. Had it been on land, many would’ve raised objections and called Sseraphis rude for ignoring servants. They’d call him entitled.

"What are the rules here?"

He quickly asked. Being new to the underworld, he didn’t want to make any mistakes. Offending cold-hearted slithering beasts in their territory wasn’t in his list of things to do while he sought Yiwa’s treatment.

"Just one," Yiwa said, finding hus foot once Ssirel set him down. "Don’t anger powerful beasts, and if you do, make sure you are more powerful than them or have an ace up your sleeve to survive their wrath."

Tivnir swallowed. He translated the instruction simply; the strongest beasts did as they pleased without a care in the world, and weaker beasts also lived freely doing as they wanted as long as it didn’t offend anyone powerful enough to harm them.

"How do you know this?"

"It’s not exactly my first time here. I’ve served Lord Sseraphis before, and I’ve travelled to the abyss many a times."

"Oh, right."

"Get some rest. Fior will come get you once I have everything ready for the treatment," Jura said, walking away to go find more candies.

He didn’t think well when he wasn’t high on sugar, and going too long without candy made him jumpy and irrational to an unbearable level.

Ssirel hooked his hand on Fior. "Knowing Jura, he’s most certainly going to ransack the whole palace for candies. It’ll take a while for him to get anything ready. So, why don’t you rest up in my room?" He invited sweetly.

The sweet voice made the hair on Fior’s skin stand straight. The only thing worse than Ssirel being cruel and vicious was his nice side. That part of him always has some scheme cooking up its sleeves, and ever so often, it attacked when one’s guards were lowered, giving him a high winning advantage.

Fior shook his hands off. "The palace has enough rooms. I’ll pass on the offer," he rejected, then he turned to Yiwa. "I take it that you don’t need a guide to find a room?"

Yiwa nodded.

"Good. I shall take my leave," he excused himself and left. But he underestimated Ssirel’s thick skin. "If you won’t sleep in my room... I’ll just join you in yours," Ssirel chased after him.

Fior let out an irritated groan. The sound made Ssirel cackle before he once again wrapped his hands on the dragon and clung to him.

"What deal did you make with them?" Yiwa’s face darkened once they were alone. His question was stern.

"What makes you think..."

"They are snakes, Tiv. I know them better than you... they don’t invite outsiders to their abode without reason. Nor do they do charity deeds. So what did you promise them?"

Tivnir clasped his hands on Yiwa. He looked him in the eye, his gaze stable and without any hesitation. "Whatever it takes for them to heal you."

"..."

"I don’t mind care for what demands they’ll make after you are well. As long as you... are well," he summed.

Yiwa was stunned silent. He hadn’t expected Tivnir to be so selfless with him. They weren’t officially together, and he was under no obligation to go this far for him and to have him do so without being asked, moved him.

"You might break Ssirel’s record for the most crazy beast," he muttered.

"No one can break my record," Ssirel’s chilly voice drifted to them. "No one," he added, taking pride in being the most deranged beast in the abyss.