"My name is Azkalon, Guardian of the Seventh Layer of Hell, the eternal shadow by the banks of the River Styx. For centuries, I have feasted on sulfur and flame, with the wails of sinners as my lullaby, guarding the order of the abyss in the eternally burning depths. Until this morning, when everything went wrong.
I was dozing by the lava pool when I was suddenly swept away by a bizarre spatial turbulence. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in this strange world—glowing iron birds floating in the sky, crystal buildings towering higher than hellish castles on the ground, and the air thick with a choking, burnt stench.
What annoyed me even more was that just as I wanted to find a place to rest, a group of mortals in black clothes started pointing strange sticks at me. I tried to breathe fire to warn them, only to find that even a sneeze could attract a swarm of iron birds to besiege me. Though these mortals' weapons couldn't hurt me, getting hit still hurt quite a bit.
Chapter 86