Crackle. Crackle.

The first night in the Abyss was spent camping.
Well, calling it “camping” was a bit of a stretch—it was more like sleeping rough.
But when you have a fire going, a makeshift stand made from sticks to hold a pot over it, it feels like camping, doesn’t it?
Sure, the sleeping arrangement was nothing fancy—no tent, no sleeping bags, just a blanket—but for mages, that wasn’t a big deal. A capable mage can make even the roughest accommodations bearable.

I stirred the bubbling soup, which was coming along nicely, practically inviting me to taste …