The return journey took much less time than when they traveled to the Grey Ruins. They no longer needed to make their way back to the second layer of Bator Hell and then indirectly return next to the Curse Bone Gate. When the surroundings turned crimson again, and there was no longer the power of the Grey Plane hindering the spell of the "Gate to the Otherworld," Lynch was already standing outside the Bronze Fortress with Eryies.

The air here still carried the scent of metal and blood, like the smell beneath the armor of a valiant warrior returning from the battlefield, always producing an exhilarating feeling. The frenzied atmosphere enveloped the two who had returned from the Despair Wilderness, elevating their confidence to its peak—nothing could stop them now.

Lynch felt a wave of dizziness, a sudden burst of colors flooded his vision, no less dazzling than being blinded by a sky full of stars. His body swayed, almost unable to stand, only relying on the support of the Powerful Wand to keep from falling. The mage took deep breaths, expelling the decay brought back from the Grey Ruins in this way.

Eryies gently soothed the mage, her body pressing against Lynch's arm. Although she knew this method was of no use to someone with Lynch's strong willpower, she still stubbornly persisted. Sometimes, she also asked herself why she did this, why she was so stubborn, refusing to turn back.

"Bator World, I am back!" Lynch sighed, slowly but firmly advancing toward the Bronze Fortress. His hands now wielded powerful magic, no longer fearing the scrutinizing gaze of the devils. Whether travelers from other planes or those maintaining order in the fortress, no one dared to approach him. Everyone could read the message in the mage's steadfast gaze: I'm busy, don't try to stop me.

Recently, because Archduke Banaya had done well in the Grey Ruins, no demons had attacked the area near the Bronze Fortress for a long time. The number of residents here was steadily increasing, and dimensional travelers were more frequently visiting this transit station. Abyss Demon's Piffed was unbelievably busy, entertaining thousands of passersby daily. Though he was greatly benefited, the act of inventing novel items to request had given him quite a headache.

Lynch helped solve this problem. One by one, the queuing individuals decided, after the mage's "persuasion," to stay a while longer in the Bator Plane, thus not wasting their precious lives in the long line. In just an hour, the mage reached the Abyss Demon, bypassing others in the queue.

"Oh! Traveler, I remember you!" Piffed said, "A few years ago, you sought a way back."

"Yes, Gatekeeper." Lynch opened his Spatial Bag and placed the Snake Demon's heart before Piffed. "As agreed, a thousand Snake Demon hearts. I believe this will suffice to quell your anger and provide you with satisfying enjoyment."

"Yes, yes!" Fire blazed in the demon's eyes as he leapt from his seat, cradling the bloody tribute—objects stored in the Spatial Bag remained unchanged and preserved in their original state. The Abyss Demon meticulously counted the vast pile of offerings, nearly like a miser cleaning his gold coins, carefully feeling every detail.

Lynch waited quietly on the side, the demon's nearly fastidious inspection didn't offend him the slightest, and the murmurs of impatience behind him seemed irrelevant to him. Watching Piffed's actions, noting not a muscle twitch on the demon's body, Lynch revisited everything he had experienced in this hell in his mind. Whether it was learning magic, drifting down the Nether River, or trekking the Grey Ruins, every moment over the past two years suddenly became blurry. They intertwined and mixed like a sticky glue, eventually merging into his body.

Lynch gave a soft cough, mimicking something a black-robed mage often did. In an instant, Lynch himself wasn't sure why he coughed, as his body was healthy and full of energy, free from the suffering of disease and curses.

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