Banished to the Abyss After Defying the Author-Chapter 16: The World That Bent Him

Noah reached out.

The unicorn didn’t retreat.

Instead, it stepped closer—warm breath brushing his fingers—then began licking his hand with clumsy affection.

Noah stared at it.

"...You creatures really don’t think, do you?" he muttered.

The unicorn snorted softly, unfazed.

Noah sighed, plucked a broad leaf from a nearby plant, and held it out. The unicorn accepted it eagerly, chewing with visible delight.

For a moment—just one—

the world was quiet.

Titaine really is... peaceful, he thought.

Then the air collapsed.

No warning. No ripple.

Four pressures slammed into him at once.

Space hardened. Gravity inverted. Authority pressed down like a verdict already passed.

Noah’s head snapped upward.

Above him—

golden wings unfolded against the sky.

Silver horns caught the light.

Xenovia. Goddess of Space as well as Goddess of Titaine.

Beside her stood a man crowned in measured radiance—every breath he took recalibrated reality itself.

Alextruo. King of Titaine.

Another presence slid in sideways, perception bending around it like an unwilling witness.

Venxiyie. King of Sofail.

And last—

a distortion that never fully existed in one place.

Mortatis. Devil king of Salvation.

Four essences converged.

Noah felt his power seized—not stolen, not erased—held.

"...You’re trying to seal me?" Noah said calmly.

He raised his hand.

The ground cracked as his authority surged outward—

—and immediately twisted.

Space folded.

Xenovia’s essence warped the space and dimension around him. His footing vanished. Balance betrayed him.

Alextruo moved.

Not physically—conceptually.

Proportion of authority shifted.

For a fraction of a second, Noah’s authority felt smaller.

Mortatis spoke without words.

Salvation inverted gravity.

Noah was slammed back to the ground.

"If you continue," Noah said, voice low, anger tightening beneath restraint, "you’ll trap yourselves in stasis and this world might be destroyed."

Venxiyie stepped forward, eyes burning.

"You broke her," he shouted. "Altantriasa can’t smile anymore. The Goddess of Happiness cant smile because of you."

His authority struck.

Perception crushed inward.

Noah’s vision blurred. Weight pressed against his thoughts. The world felt wrong.

"Enough," Noah growled.

The sky trembled.

But before the collapse could finish—

light touched him.

Not force.

A push.

Gentle. Familiar.

Elonore.

The pressure vanished.

Noah staggered—then steadied.

The world froze.

No more tremors.

No more resistance.

He straightened.

Tried to reach outward—

Nothing.

No clairvoyance.

No passive awareness.

No silent threads.

He clenched his fist and punched a nearby stone.

The rock didn’t crack.

It vanished.

The shockwave flattened everything behind it.

Noah stared at his hand.

"...Sealed," he murmured.

Not everything.

Just enough.

He could feel it now—his stolen five percent authority that he gained from nostradus, bound elsewhere. Anchored by their essences.

They couldn’t move.

And neither could what they were holding.

"...Idiots," he said quietly.

A memory surfaced.

Elonore’s presence.

She stopped it, he realized. Before it became absolute.

Noah turned away.

Walked into the forest.

Every step felt heavy—not physically, but mentally.

He struck a tree in frustration.

It vanished like smoke.

He exhaled slowly.

"...This is fine."

A smile tugged at his lips.

"They’ve trapped themselves. I just need to find them."

He continued walking.

Without senses.

Without foresight.

After hours, the forest thinned.

Light returned.

And there it was—

A kingdom floating between water and sky.

Gold. Diamond. Radiance.

Noah stopped.

"So this is the Floating Kingdom, Solaris."

He approached the gates.

A guard raised a hand. "Line up."

Noah considered annihilation.

Then stepped into the line instead.

When his turn came, a checker glanced at him. "Pass?"

"...Pass?" Noah repeated.

"No entry without one."

Noah closed his eyes.

"Where do I obtain it?"

"Kurugshetra. East."

He turned.

Grasslands stretched endlessly.

"...I really have to walk," he muttered.

Then he noticed them.

Unicorns.

A merchant nearby.

Noah exhaled.

He approached.

"I want a unicorn."

The merchant brightened. "Perfect timing! For someone refined like you—"

"No," Noah said, pointing. "That one."

The black unicorn lifted its head.

Silver horn. Still eyes.

The merchant stiffened. "That one kills riders."

"Then why is it here?"

"...It always comes back. And Solaris law forbids harming unicorns."

Noah studied the creature.

"It’s fine."

"...Twenty million gold."

Noah opened his storage.

Three chests hit the ground.

"Count them."

He took the reins.

The dark unicorn didn’t resist.

As Noah mounted, he smiled faintly.

"Kurugshetra first," he murmured.

"And then..."

The unicorn stepped forward.

"...I take back what’s mine."

There was no resistance. No rejection.

That alone made Noah pause.

A strange pressure brushed against his thoughts—light, probing, cautious.

Unknown being, a voice echoed inside his mind. What are you?

Noah stiffened, then let out a short breath and swung down from the unicorn’s back.

"...So you speak," he said, tilting his head. "Telepathy. Interesting."

The unicorn turned, silver horn catching the light. Its gaze was sharp now—alert in a way no animal’s should be.

I cannot deduce you, the voice admitted. No origin. No classification. No fate.

Noah’s lips curved faintly.

"But I can deduce you," he replied.

He stepped closer, resting a hand briefly against the unicorn’s neck—not dominantly, not gently. Just enough to feel the pulse beneath the hide.

"You’re cursed," Noah said. "Any mortal who rides you dies. Not by force. By inevitability."

The unicorn’s eyes widened.

That knowledge is sealed, the voice whispered. No one should—

"You reject riders," Noah continued calmly. "Because the curse doesn’t belong to you. It was imposed. A punishment disguised as nature."

Silence followed.

Then, quieter:

...Who are you?

Noah didn’t answer immediately. He glanced east, toward the endless stretch of land where Kurugshetra waited.

"Call me a traveler," he said at last. "Help me reach my destination... and I might help you remove what was never yours to bear."

The unicorn hesitated.

Then it lowered its head.

Noah mounted again.

This time, the connection held—steady, unbroken.

The dark unicorn turned east and began to run, hooves striking the earth in long, powerful strides.

Noah rested one hand against its mane, eyes forward.

Kurugshetra awaited.

And for the first time since entering Titaine, the path ahead didn’t resist him.

It watched.