The Abyss – Layer 6,548,257: [Lava Wastelands]
Near the capital city of the region, Ashkarath.
Amid a violent ripple in space, Orsaga ca crashing down from a portal above like a teorite of muscle, landing with such force that he flattened an unsuspecting bystander into the hard ground beneath him.
A perfect soft landing.
Inhaling the familiar, venomous air around him, he couldn't help but sigh with satisfaction.
"Ah, nothing beats the sweet aroma of ho~"
Then he looked down at the fresh at paste beneath his feet, and his grin widened with joy.
"A good on! What a festive way to return! Feels great!!"
Content with his welco, he stepped off the flattened corpse and strolled leisurely toward Ashkarath, while the surrounding onlookers quickly scattered, eager to avoid him.
As the undisputed center of the Lava Wastelands, Ashkarath was a truly cosmopolitan tropolis. Much like Earth's old "New York," it featured enclaves specific to various races—Elves, Dwarves, Elental Giants... all had their own districts here.
According to the agreent between Orsaga and the Elven High Council of the nation of Elsella, he was to bring Alison to the Elven quarter so she could conduct an on-site inspection.
After all, the so-called Elves of the Multiverse and those of the Myling World (her holand) had little in common beyond the na. Their cultures, appearance, and even their biology varied wildly.
After buying a few entry permits from the city guards, Orsaga casually snapped his fingers. In a flash, Alison and Golarial appeared at his sides. He handed each of them their permits.
"Leave your aura on these first, then co along. Ti to get familiar with the place. Hospitality here puts the Myling World to sha~"
Ashkarath had a magical barrier system that scanned everyone entering the city. Anyone without a registered entry permit was prohibited from moving freely within.
There was no way around the entry fee.
As for low-value slave creatures who couldn't even afford that, they had separate gates with their own fees and restrictions.
Just monts ago, the two won had still been in the Myling World. Now, suddenly finding themselves deep within the Abyss, they were understandably disoriented.
Especially with Orsaga now showing his true form—sothing they weren't quite used to, having always seen him in his humanoid disguise.
His real body was clad in an armored exoskeleton, with four wings folded behind him like shielded panels. Twin curved horns had grown far longer than in his human form, and a whip-like tail swayed behind him.
It was an imposing figure—so much so that just his presence made most passersby instinctively steer clear.
Fortunately, Orsaga had consciously limited his true form's height to just over two ters—about the sa as Alison and Golarial—so it wasn't overwhelming.
His face still bore a strong resemblance to his human form, with seven or eight points of similarity.
So although the transformation was startling, it wasn't too jarring for the two won. At least they could still recognize who he was.
After so ti getting used to it…
Once Golarial confird that, despite his new appearance, Orsaga was still the sa jerk at heart, she mustered the courage to grab his tail, which had been flailing about behind him.
Curious, she examined it closely.
Running her fingers along the grooves and strange flower-like patterns on it, she asked,
"These markings are beautiful. Did you carve them yourself?"
She could faintly sense that the strange floral engravings radiated a mysterious power—unlike any magical runes she had ever seen.
Orsaga replied nonchalantly,
"They're natural—part of my innate abilities. Pretty, right?"
"They really are."
Looking at his bizarrely elegant demonic form, Golarial—an avowed admirer of physical beauty—was thoroughly satisfied.
Ever since learning that Orsaga was a demon from the Abyss, and knowing that demons' true forms were often hideous, she'd been worried. What if he was truly ugly? What about their future children?
Would they inherit his bad looks?
Now that she'd seen him, she could finally relax.
Her heart was full of confidence… at least in terms of outward appearance.
Beside her, Orsaga had no idea that Golarial's thoughts had already wandered all the way to their hypothetical offspring.
Casually, he raised a finger and snapped it.
A vividly colored flower, wreathed in a swirling mist of blood-red vapor, blood from the void and floated into his hand.
He gently tucked it into Golarial's silky hair.
"This flower is a mark of my power. Back in the Myling World, I kept it hidden to stay low-key."
This was a manifestation of his innate ability—Deathblossom Catastrophe: Deathblossom Flower.
Originally, every being infected by Orsaga's plague in the Myling World would automatically develop a Deathblossom flower symbol on their skin, greatly enhancing his control over them.
But in the end, he had decided to suppress the ability.
After all, committing evil while leaving behind such an obvious signature was just asking to get hunted down.
Unlike Golariel, who quickly ca to terms with his true form, Alison found herself in a more complicated emotional state.
Seeing Orsaga now, she instantly realized why he'd always felt oddly familiar to her.
He was the red demon she had fought on the front Line…
In that mont, all the fragnted mories and bits of information she'd gathered over the years clicked into place. So many things suddenly made sense.
Her gaze toward Orsaga beca layered and conflicted.
Orsaga, for his part, noticed but didn't care much.
The Myling World was on the verge of collapse anyway. Whether she figured things out or not didn't make much difference.
Alison was a smart woman. She'd understand that sotis, the past needed to be let go.
And as he expected, Alison—though filled with complex emotions—ultimately said nothing.
She simply followed silently behind Orsaga, carefully observing her surroundings.
The bustling streets were a riot of life and chaos.
Countless races filled the roads—so graceful, so savage, so downright sinister. The sheer variety defied description.
The architecture was just as eclectic. So buildings were so exquisitely crafted that even Alison was awed. Others were so grotesque that just looking at them made her feel sick—an overwhelming sense of blasphemy and hatred for all life oozed from every brick and beam.
Then, in a nearby alley, she spotted several demons enthusiastically roasting dwarves like they were running a barbecue stall.
Alison's brows furrowed in disgust. She turned to Orsaga and asked,
"If they've built a city here, shouldn't soone be responsible for maintaining order?"
Orsaga grinned widely.
"Of course there is."
"But we're demons—creatures of chaos. Our definition of 'order' is pretty loose. In this city, murder, robbery… all perfectly legal. As long as you don't cause mass panic or city-wide destruction, you can do whatever you want. The strong rule the weak. That's the ultimate law of this place."
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