Chapter 5: The Cat’s Tumbling Play

“Ahhhh! Cat sprint!!!”

“That running form! I’m drained!”

“The ears! The ears are standing straight up! So focused on the chase!”

“Hey, broken-horn brother up front, slow down! Let our little one run a bit longer! (dog head)”

“The little one is really fast!”

“Go, little one! Full cuteness power, catch him!”

Cynthia’s face flushed crimson, nearly bleeding, but under the system’s enhancement, her body moved with astonishing speed, rapidly closing the gap between her and the broken-horn Abyssal.

Her eyes locked tightly on the box in his hand, flames of determination blazing within.

Just as she was about to grab the hem of his clothes—

Bang!

The broken-horn Abyssal panicked, misstepped, and tumbled into the entrance of a cavern, instantly swallowed by darkness.

Cynthia slammed on the brakes, halting at the edge of the pit.

She crouched low, her little leather shoes pressing into the damp soil, eyes alertly scanning the depths below.

Her cat ears twitched attentively, catching faint sounds of rolling and pained moans from beneath.

The box was inside. That strange broken-horn Abyssal was inside.

Taking a deep breath, the cold air filled her lungs, calming her chaotic thoughts.

She glanced down at her poofy princess dress, then reached up to touch the stubbornly upright cat ears atop her head.

“Damn system…”

She gritted her teeth, but her gaze remained resolute.

She had to know what was inside that box, why it felt so familiar, and why that Abyssal was here in the first place.

Since awakening in this nine-year-old child’s body, countless questions had clouded her mind. She was desperate to uncover the truth of what was happening in this world.

She glanced back toward Azathoth’s direction—he should still be there. Good.

Without hesitation, Cynthia lifted her cumbersome skirt and, still looking irresistibly cute even from a live broadcast perspective, leapt boldly into the dark cavern.

“The little one jumped in!!!”

“Azathoth says: My king told me not to move... but the king seems to have jumped in the pit???”

“What’s in that box? Who is that broken-horn Abyssal? Little one, be careful!”

***

The sensation of weightlessness lasted only a moment.

Cynthia summoned the remaining power within her, forcing her posture into one befitting an Abyssal overlord as she landed in the darkness.

But—

[ Ding! Host detected falling from great height! Moe-style coquettish outfit passive effect triggered: Safe landing·Cat roll! ]

Cynthia: “No!!!”

A force enveloped her, curling her into a fluffy ball midair like a furry kitten.

Her poofy princess dress became the perfect cushion as she fell like a pink meteorite, softly landing on moist moss.

The impact was perfectly absorbed. She even rolled twice down the mossy slope before coming to a stop, unscathed.

“Pft… cough cough…”

Cynthia struggled to sit up, spitting out moss bits she had accidentally swallowed, her face pale with anger; the cat ears atop her head quivered slightly.

“The little one landed safely, cat roll a total success.”

“Turned into a jungle cat.”

“Looks like the little one is dazed.”

Cynthia was nearly out of energy to curse the system. She just wanted to find the box and that Abyssal quickly. She wiped mud from her face; her cat ears pricked like radar, sharp eyes sweeping ahead.

Inside, the cavern was vast, resembling a karst cave entrance. The humid air carried a faint metallic scent tinged with blood.

Holding her breath, Cynthia followed the scent to a pile of rubble where the broken-horn Abyssal lay barely alive.

He seemed gravely injured.

“One last chance.”

Her voice low, commanding: “Tell me, who are you? What’s inside the box? Who sent you?”

As she spoke, she subtly edged closer to the metal box.

That familiar aura pulled at her like a magnet, making her heart race uncontrollably.

“Huh…”

The broken-horn Abyssal seemed to hear her voice, struggling to lift his head. His purple eyes flickered with pain.

“King… is it really the king?”

His hoarse, dry voice was full of immense anguish and faint hope.

“No! Impossible. The king has fallen. A trap! It’s all a trap!” He shook his head violently, trying to dispel the illusion before him.

“Fool! Look at me!”

***

Cynthia shouted sharply, stepping forward like an arrow, her red eyes looking down at the Abyssal lying among the rubble.

“Your bloodline will tell you everything. If you cannot recognize your king, then you are unworthy of bearing the Abyssal blood.”

The broken-horn Abyssal stared at Cynthia for a long while. Then, from those murky eyes, a single blood tear trickled down.

“King!”

He struggled, dragging his twisted broken leg with his intact limbs, painfully rising from the rubble to kneel before Cynthia on one knee.

“King, to see you alive is a blessing. Now… I can die in peace.”

His voice trembled. Shaking hands raised the metal box above his head.

“My little king, I hope you will lead the Abyssals to glory once more!”

The light in his purple eyes dimmed. The broken-horn Abyssal seemed to have laid down a heavy burden, slowly bowing his head. Only his raised hands still held the metal box high.

The chaotic Abyssal aura of the broken horn gradually faded. Cynthia’s heart was a storm of emotions, a nameless weight pressing on her chest.

“I have received your will. Rest now, my fearless Abyssal warrior.”

As Cynthia took the metal box, a small pale blue flame flickered from her fingertips, igniting the now lifeless Abyssal. In an instant, his body turned to black ash.

Silence hung long in the Trial of Divinity livestream room.

Cynthia opened the box in her hands. Inside lay a shattered fragment.

“So it’s an Abyssal crown. What’s so worth protecting about this… Nothing at all. Not worth it, utterly foolish.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, her youthful face expressionless, yet she picked up the crown fragment and crushed it into dust with a fierce kick.

[ Congratulations, candidate. Exploration task completed. The immortal flower seed has been deposited into your trial backpack. Please check. Teleportation will commence in one minute. ]

The voice of the Trial of Divinity’s main system oracle suddenly echoed.

Cynthia looked down at the black ash beneath her feet. Something within glittered faintly. She bent down and picked out a rune-etched iron tag.

Tracing the runes with her fingers, murderous intent surged in her eyes.

“A slave rune!”

With a roar, the iron tag shattered in her hands.

[ Warning! Warning! Host has generated intense hostility and aggressive intent, violating the cute core principles. Moe power reduced by 40. Current moe power: 108/200 (Level 1). Host must immediately adjust attitude or face severe punishment! ]

The system’s cold alert tone, accompanied by glaring red text displaying the loss of moe power, flooded Cynthia’s mind relentlessly.