Despite having several weapons pointed directly at him, Orsaga remained perfectly calm—his expression composed and indifferent.
After all, he wasn't particularly averse to their little display of "entertainment."
In fact, if they didn't mind, he wouldn't have minded sticking around to watch for a while longer—observing their techniques and perhaps even striking up a conversation to exchange a few thoughts as a fellow artisan… or artist, depending on interpretation.
Unfortunately, judging from their current behavior, it seemed there wasn't going to be much in the way of technique to observe.
Slightly disappointed, Orsaga took another bite of the exotic fruit in his hand. Then, under the wary and uncertain gazes of the group, he responded in a tone that was neither warm nor cold, "No need to panic. I'm just a passerby. Could you tell me the general situation of the nearby cities? I'd like to do a bit of sightseeing... maybe pick up some local specialties."
"..."
A heavy silence immediately descended upon the group.
No one in their right mind would believe that kind of explanation.
After a brief pause, the man in the lead—frowning slightly and adjusting his stance—looked into Orsaga's calm, three-eyed gaze and asked, his tone grim, "Are you messing with me?"
Seeing that everyone, including the one lying on the ground, wore expressions of disbelief, Orsaga couldn't help but feel a bit exasperated. It was hard being an honest and well-behaved demon. With a shrug, he sighed, "I'm not. That's really all I came here for."
The leader bared his teeth slightly but didn't immediately reply. Instead, he spent a few seconds silently observing Orsaga.
Red eyes with golden pupils, a third eye on the forehead, crimson hair threaded with a pair of curved horns…
From his limited knowledge, the man couldn't think of any known species that matched these traits. Everything about Orsaga screamed "non-human," aside from his basic shape and face.
And there were two very concerning problems.
First, he couldn't sense any aura coming from Orsaga. If he hadn't seen him with his own eyes, he wouldn't have even known there was someone standing there.
Second, judging from the man's pristine, luxurious clothing, he didn't seem to have encountered any enemies while traveling through this dangerous forest—as if he were just out on a pleasant stroll.
Both details were glaringly unnatural.
And unnatural things, in his experience, often spelled danger. So the leader had no desire to provoke this stranger.
After thinking it over, he cautiously pointed in a direction and said, "Walk about a hundred kilometers that way and you'll reach the city of Misturk. It's one of the major cities in the Kingdom of Broom. The region's best specialty goods are harvested from this forest—rare materials of all kinds. You can find pretty much anything you need there."
As he spoke, he glanced at the half-eaten fruit in Orsaga's hand.
If his memory served, that particular fruit was a key ingredient in a powerful magical potion. In the outside world, its value could easily buy dozens of ordinary lives. It was one of the most valuable items from their current haul.
Watching Orsaga casually munch on it like a snack, right in front of him, made his heart ache.
If a normal person had dared treat his loot like that, he would've taught them a lesson in cruelty they'd never forget. But facing an unknown like Orsaga, caution won out. He swallowed his anger.
After all, life wasn't just about killing and looting. Sometimes, it was about enduring humiliation just to stay alive.
Orsaga, having gotten the information he wanted, didn't press them further. He simply turned around and started walking in the direction indicated—completely uninterested in standing up for the man lying injured on the ground.
He was a demon, after all. Who would expect a demon to stand up for justice?
Realizing that Orsaga truly had no intention of interfering, the group let out a collective sigh of relief and prepared to let him go.
But Kevin—the man on the ground—looked at Orsaga's departing back with desperation. Watching his last hope walk away, his expression twisted. Then, he shouted loudly, "I'm the fourth procurement captain of the Zila Trading Company! They're from the Gasser Bandit Group—"
Before he could finish, Orsaga had no visible reaction.
But the expressions of the Gasser Bandit Group changed drastically!
A brief exchange of glances was all it took. Without a moment's hesitation, they raised their weapons and struck out at Orsaga.
Their teamwork was seamless—they instantly closed off all possible avenues of escape.
Originally, neither side had known the identities of the other. If things had been left alone, everyone could've gone their separate ways.
But now that the truth was out and the stranger knew who they were and what they'd done, they had no choice. To prevent word from getting back to the Zila Trading Company—and to avoid the wrath of a powerful commercial force—he had to die.
They were gambling. Whether it was a bet or confidence in their own strength, they chose to attack the mysterious stranger.
Crack—
Even as the blades closed in, Orsaga's expression didn't change. He calmly took another bite of the fruit in his hand.
'Not bad. Tastes pretty good.'
That idle thought passed through his mind.
He didn't even bother lifting a finger. With a mere thought, a force emanated from his soul—a power that could be described as psionics, telekinesis, or spiritual force—swept forth.
Just like he had done to the wind-element direwolf not long ago, the entire group was frozen in place, completely immobilized—like insects trapped in amber.
This technique wouldn't be of much use against a real powerhouse, but against the weak? It was absolute.
After freezing them in place, Orsaga didn't immediately eliminate them. Instead, his gaze fell on the stunned Kevin. Calmly, he said:
"I really hate little bugs that bring trouble to my door…"
Kevin's heart lurched. He instinctively sensed that a massive danger was about to descend upon him. In a panic, he tried to speak, "I can give you—"
But Orsaga had no interest in hearing the rest.
Under Kevin's terrified gaze, the previously frozen bandits suddenly began moving again.
Weapons in hand, eyes filled with dread, they began to slowly surround him.
Clearly, they were no longer in control of their bodies. Like puppets on strings, they moved entirely according to Orsaga's will.
"Hack him up. Ten thousand strikes each."
Orsaga gave the command in a neutral tone.
"Once you're done, split into pairs. Each of you strangle your opponent to death. When a group is finished, the survivors pair off again and repeat—until only one of you is left alive."
Having issued his orders, he casually tossed the fruit pit—now stripped of all flesh—to the side and turned to leave.
Originally, these people had gotten lucky. They'd encountered him at a time when he wasn't in the mood to kill, and he'd been ready to let them go.
But unfortunately… they just had to go looking for death.
___
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