Banished to the Abyss After Defying the Author-Chapter 10: The Kingdom That Breathes

The kingdom breathed.

Noah felt it the moment he crossed its threshold—the steady pulse of mortal life, unguarded and sincere. Streets spilled with sound and color.

Laughter rose and fell. Arguments sparked and died. Vendors shouted beneath hanging cloth awnings while sweet steam from sugar-boiled confections mingled with spice, perfume, and roasted grain.

Life.

Continuing.

Noah slowed without meaning to.

"...So this is what peace looks like here," he murmured.

He moved through the crowd untouched, unnoticed in the way predators and gods often were. No one bowed. No one stared. The world didn’t flinch at his presence.

Ahead, a temple rose—white stone edged with gold, its broad steps worn smooth by centuries of feet.

ALTANTRIASA TEMPLE, the inscription read.

Noah entered.

The interior was vast and hushed, sunlight pouring through high glass panels. At its heart stood a statue—youthful, serene, robed in flowing stone, palms open in gentle offering.

A goddess of happiness.

Mortals knelt before it. Food was laid carefully at its base. Prayers whispered—small hopes, selfish hopes, desperate hopes.

Noah exhaled slowly.

They still think divinity trades favors.

A hand grabbed his shoulder.

A priest approached. "You enter without offering," he said carefully. "The goddess requires—"

Noah raised a hand. The priest fell something in his soul and went silent.

Without a word, Noah walked back outside, took a bowl of fruit from a nearby stall, returned, and placed it before the altar.

The priest bowed uncertainly.

Noah ignored him and placed his palm against the statue.

"Altantriasa," he said quietly. "Stop pretending you don’t see me."

The temple inhaled.

Light—white, gold, pale blue—washed outward, stripping shadow from stone.

When Noah opened his eyes, the statue was gone.

A woman knelt where it had stood. Sapphire eyes lowered. Blue robes shimmered like still water.

"King of Kings," she said, bowing deeply. "How have you entered the Ninth World?"

Noah studied her.

"You haven’t changed," he said. "Still hiding in plain sight."

She flinched.

He sighed. "Dragonforce stripped my authority."

Her head snapped up. "What?"

"I was edited," Noah said flatly. "Demoted. And now every king thinks they can borrow my crown."

Altantriasa stood too quickly, summoning a throne without thinking. "Please—sit."

Noah didn’t.

"Zelforna knows," he said instead. "You didn’t."

Her shoulders sagged. "I don’t watch the upper flows. I just... listen to prayers."

He snorted softly. "She watches time of abyssal world. You watch peoples here?."

"...Is that wrong?" she asked.

"No," Noah replied. "Just dangerous."

He turned away.

"Victoria passed through this world," he added. "You felt her."

Altantriasa nodded. "Briefly. Then her presence... flickered. Like a page torn out and sewn back."

Noah’s jaw tightened.

"All kings are against me now," he said. "Even their beasts."

Altantriasa’s hands clenched. "And the goddesses?"

"Neutral," Noah said. "For now."

"And if they weren’t?" Her voice dropped. "If they had to choose?"

Noah looked at her directly. "Elonore chose. Zelforna warned me. You..." He paused. "You’re still hiding."

Her sapphire eyes wavered. "I’m not strong like them."

"No," Noah agreed. "But you’re here. That’s enough."

He stepped away from the throne.

"You’re still the same," he said over his shoulder. "The youngest. The quiet one."

Her fists clenched. "I am not lonely."

"No," Noah said gently. "You’re hiding."

Silence followed as reality folded.

He stepped out of the temple and looked up.

The sky tore—not clouds, not shadow, but a rip in reality itself.

The heavens split like stretched cloth, and something vast forced its way through.

Noah stopped.

Every sound in the kingdom died at once.

He raised one hand.

Space folded outward, sealing the city in layered dimensions—glass within glass. People froze mid-step, untouched, unaware.

Then Noah stepped beyond the barrier.

The sky screamed.

Valactus descended.

Three heads. Wings wide enough to blot stars. Scales that didn’t reflect light—they denied it. Reality bent away from him, refusing contact.

"So you survived," Noah said calmly.

Valactus collapsed mid-air into a humanoid form. His eyes burned red with borrowed authority.

"I was rejected by death," Valactus said, smiling. "Twice."

He moved.

The punch crossed dimensions before sound followed.

Noah leaned aside.

The impact tore through five defensive layers behind him—realities cracking like brittle shells—before dying against the sixth.

Noah glanced at the fractures.

"...Partial," he muttered.

Valactus was already behind him.

Fire bloomed—not flame, but a rejection of continuity itself. Noah twisted, kicked, and Valactus flew—not backward, but upward, punching through layers of sky that peeled open endlessly.

Noah followed.

They climbed reality through violence.

Each blow shattered perspective. Directions stopped agreeing with themselves. Noah drove Valactus through a horizon that hadn’t existed moments earlier.

Valactus laughed as he flew.

"Mortatis refuses my end!" he shouted. "Nostradus denies your result!"

Noah appeared above him and drove a heel down.

The sky caved.

Valactus crashed through strata, rebounding—glitching—reappearing intact heartbeats later.

Noah’s eyes ignited blue.

Ten portals opened.

From each, a spear of condensed light fired at once.

Valactus flickered.

Nine missed.

One struck.

His torso split cleanly in half.

For an instant, the world believed it.

Then reality rejected the conclusion.

The wound rewound. Flesh snapped back. Blood retreated.

Valactus stood whole.

He spread his arms, laughing. "You see? You can’t finish what can be denied!"

Noah tilted his head.

"Incorrect."

He raised his hand.

A black sphere formed—not darkness, but exclusion. Space folded inward, trapping Valactus where distance, exit, and outcome had no permission to exist.

Valactus froze mid-motion.

"This isn’t a seal," Noah said quietly. "It’s a decision you’re not allowed to reject."

Valactus struggled.

The void resisted.

Fear finally cracked his grin.

"I reject—"

Noah closed his hand.

The sphere collapsed.

Not into nothing.

Into elsewhere.

Valactus vanished—not dead, not alive—removed from the board without a conclusion to deny.

The sky repaired itself.

Noah exhaled.

He turned.

And felt her.

Victoria’s presence pulsed nearby—unstable, wounded, alive.

Noah stepped forward—

—and stopped.

Something rippled behind him.

He glanced back once, eyes cold.

"Tell Mortatis and Nostradus and all other kings," Noah said to the rippling air. "Tell Dragonforce. I’ve remembered what patience costs."

His voice dropped.

"I’m done paying it."