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Fein plopped himself onto his bed with a lazy flop, his tired body sinking into the soft mattress. The room, neat and spotless, looked exactly as he remembered it, thanks to his mom's OCD-level cleaning skills. He couldn't help but appreciate her effort, even after a whole year of his absence.

As he lay there, his gaze wandered to the ceiling, his mind drifting to his teacher from the Abyss, Imeng. Theold man had taken him under his wing, making him his apprentice. But why? Fein scratched his head, trying to figure out Imeng's motives. Was it all part of some master plan to pit him against his own brother, the Demon God?

The thought gnawed at him, stirring up a mix of confusion and curiosity. He couldn't deny the intense training sessions with Imeng, the endless hours of pushing himself to the limit. The guy was tough but caring, always pushing Fein to be his best.

Fein's brows furrowed, a contemplative expression taking over his face. He wondered if there was more to the story, some hidden connection between him and Imeng that he hadn't fully grasped yet. Maybe Imeng saw something in him, some spark of potential that made him believe Fein could stand up against the all-powerful Demon God.

The weight of responsibility settled on Fein's chest, his mind buzzing with questions. Though, even if Imeng doesn't ask him to fight the Demon God. He would still have to face the Demon God. Fein won't forget the enmity he had with that Demon God. He still owe him a beating in the future. Fein was confident that with his talent upgrade, it won't be long before he surpass him.

But for now, he let himself sink further into the cozy comfort of his bed, his thoughts floating through the complexities of his journey. He knew that the answers he sought would reveal themselves in due time, but for now, he allowed himself a moment of rest.

Fein lay on his cozy bed, the wooden ceiling above him casting gentle shadows in the soft glow of the moonlight that filtered through the open window. The cool breeze brushed against his skin, offering a soothing respite from the turmoil of his thoughts.

Imeng's face loomed large in Fein's mind, his mentor and teacher, but also the brother of the formidable Demon God. Questions tumbled through Fein's consciousness, like leaves caught in a whirlwind. Why was Imeng opposed to his own blood? What had transpired between the two that had led to such a conflict?

Fein recalled the chilling words of the Demon God, accusing Imeng of rebellion. It was clear that something had gone terribly wrong, shattering the bond that should have existed between brothers. The thought sent shivers down Fein's spine, the weight of the unknown pressing upon him.

He couldn't help but wonder about Imeng's true strength. His master had always exuded a sense of quiet power, a force that seemed to flow effortlessly beneath his calm exterior. Fein had witnessed glimpses of Imeng's abilities during their training sessions, moments of sheer brilliance that left him in awe. But there was a lingering question in his mind, an uncertainty about the extent of Imeng's true capabilities.

Fein's eyes narrowed, his brows furrowing in concentration. He had seen Imeng deflect powerful attacks with ease, his movements graceful and precise. There was an aura of confidence and mastery that surrounded him, hinting at depths of power yet to be fully revealed.

But there was more to Imeng than just his magical strength. Fein remembered the wisdom and guidance his mentor had imparted, the insights into the intricacies of the Abyss and the complexities of their existence. Imeng possessed a depth of knowledge that surpassed mere magical prowess, a wisdom that came from a profound understanding of the world they inhabited, a true sage of knowledge.

As Fein pondered these thoughts, he knew that delving into the mysteries of his teacher's true strength would require time and effort, but he was willing to uncover the truth. He longed to understand the depths of Imeng's power, the reasons behind his rebellion, and the role he played in shaping Fein's own destiny.

As Fein drifted deeper into slumber, his mind embraced the tranquil realm of dreams. Unbeknownst to him, a mysterious presence stirred in the shadows, their eyes fixated upon him with a mix of reverence and awe. Ten figures materialized beside his bed, each one bearing the visage of an otherworldly being.

Among them were chimera ants, their insectoid features illuminated by the soft moonlight. Their multifaceted eyes glimmered with a blend of awe and admiration as they gazed upon Fein.

A fallen angel stood tall, its ethereal wings unfurled, casting a gentle shadow upon the room. Alongside them, shadowy monsters lurked, their forms ever-shifting and enigmatic.

In the hushed stillness of the room, the assembled creatures kneeled in unison, their voices barely above a whisper. "The master is back," they murmured, their words carrying a sense of profound respect and devotion. Their hushed tones echoed through the air, mingling with the gentle rustling of the breeze that seeped in through the open window.

Their faces, as diverse as their forms, reflected a mix of emotions. The chimera ants displayed a blend of loyalty and eagerness, their mandibles twitching with anticipation. The fallen angel's countenance bore a serene expression, tinged with a hint of relief, as if a long-awaited reunion had finally come to pass. The shadow monsters, their features shrouded in darkness, conveyed a sense of silent reverence through their ever-shifting forms.

With an air of reverence, the creatures lingered in the presence of their slumbering master, their gazes fixed upon him with unwavering intensity. They recognized in Fein a power and purpose that resonated deeply with their own existence. His return signifies that the world is about to change!

In the cocoon of dreams, Fein remained oblivious to the silent vigil kept by his newfound companions. The room, imbued with the warmth of the cozy bed and the gentle sway of the wooden ceiling, became a sanctuary of hidden wonders and unseen alliances. The cool breeze continued to caress the room, its gentle touch a testament to the mystique that surrounded Fein and those who revered him.

As the night progressed, the figures gradually dissipated into the shadows from whence they came, their whispered words lingering in the air. They retreated into the depths of the unknown, each returning to their own realms and existences.