A few days later.
A vast city emerged on the edge of the horizon.
It grew larger with every turn of the carriage wheels.
Thanks to the presence of Orsaga, the journey had been absurdly smooth. Any troublemakers who came sniffing around were swiftly and decisively dealt with—most of them didn't even manage to show their faces before they were already dead.
Mysteriously, and without a sound.
One of Bensek's teammates, tugging at his own hair, murmured in disbelief, "This mission's way too easy…"
Bensek was just as baffled.
According to their original plan, this task was supposed to come with a fair share of complications. He'd already prepared himself to face ambushes or resistance.
But now? Forget enemies—he hadn't even seen a stray magical beast along the road.
The only creature that had shown itself, a Cloudwing Roc, had mysteriously vanished on the spot.
This mission really is a bit too easy… he couldn't help but think.
His gaze drifted instinctively toward the carriage where Orsaga was seated.
In his eyes, the peace and safety surrounding the convoy had to be tied to that man.
After all, even without knowing anything else, just the aura of their employer hinted he was far from ordinary. A trip this calm clearly wasn't thanks to sheer dumb luck.
And among the entire convoy, no one but Orsaga could possibly have that kind of power.
His appearance and presence alone were far too striking. Just one glance was enough to make it clear—this man was playing on an entirely different level.
Even those haughty, extravagantly dressed nobles in the group couldn't compare. Standing next to Orsaga, they looked like down-and-out peasants, automatically lowering their heads and not daring to make a sound.
From Bensek's point of view, never mind the rest—just the few decorative jewels on Orsaga's robe were enough to outshine anything he'd seen in his entire life. They probably cost more than the entire convoy combined.
Honestly, he couldn't understand why someone like Orsaga would be traveling with them.
It was like having a dragon lurking among sheep—strange and unsettling.
But if the dragon was guarding them? Then who cared about a little awkwardness.
As far as Bensek was concerned, they were in the safest hands imaginable. This mission was a free ride to success!
If it weren't for the fact that he knew Orsaga would never bother with someone of his meager strength, Bensek would've thrown himself at his feet and pledged loyalty right there on the spot.
This was a golden thigh of immeasurable girth. If he could latch on to it, his life would be set!
—
Orsaga, of course, sensed Bensek's thoughts.
But he couldn't be bothered.
He'd never had a shortage of bootlickers.
And what was he supposed to do with weaklings like this one? Use them to pick his teeth?
Not worth it.
He glanced down at the hundreds of souls in his hand, feeling moderately satisfied.
They were the result of a little "fishing" expedition, with those two brothers as bait.
And it had worked out well. Most of the souls were stronger than the brothers themselves—definitely a profitable trade.
Their survival had been a good investment.
Now, looking at these two excellent bait-fish, Orsaga made a quick decision after three seconds of silence.
He decided not to kill them.
After all, he was a conscientious demon—one with a good memory.
Killing the donkey after the millstone? That wasn't his style.
But still… while they didn't deserve death, letting them off completely would've felt wrong.
After some thought, he focused his gaze through several layers of magical barriers and peered at the objects the brothers were carrying.
In an instant, he extracted their spatial coordinates.
Soon after, in his private dimensional vault, the pile of treasure grew a little larger.
He had sent a Avatar of himself to those coordinates and completely looted the brothers' stash.
As for the so-called trial array guarding it, his Avatar shattered it with a single punch.
Not wanting them to arrive and find nothing but ruins—which might completely crush their spirits—he thoughtfully restored the place before leaving.
In fact, he even upgraded it according to the instructions in the secret letter—modifying it so that failure meant death.
A perfect setup. Very educational.
Although… the lesson would only be taught once.
Satisfied with his work, Orsaga casually pinched one of the souls in his hand, shaping it into a rice ball.
And just like that, he popped it into his mouth and swallowed it.
That brought him up to about thirty percent full.
—
When the convoy arrived at the city gates, the carriages came to a stop.
Outside, the coachman respectfully knocked on the carriage door and said, "Milord, due to recent monster incursions across various regions, all individuals are required to pass a security inspection before entering the city of Augustus. I kindly ask that you disembark and prepare for screening."
Truth be told, he was nervous as he spoke.
He knew all too well that many nobles saw such procedures as an affront to their dignity.
But if he didn't explain now, things would get ugly fast—so he braced himself for a scolding.
"…Understood."
The reply from within was calm as ever, without the slightest trace of impatience.
The coachman breathed a sigh of relief and respectfully withdrew.
—
Orsaga casually pushed open the carriage door and stepped onto the small platform, gazing toward the city in the distance.
In his eyes, the sky above the city was wrapped in countless magic arrays, layered over one another like nesting dolls.
He couldn't make out the details of each formation—there were simply too many, stacked too tightly together for any easy analysis.
This was unmistakably a city built by mages. Its magical defenses far exceeded those of cities like Misturk.
Only that legendary border wall from before had been stronger.
And that wall's barrier had been a strategic-grade formation, cobbled together from the magical efforts of dozens of nations.
Even back then, Orsaga had been hesitant to approach it.
For most beings, breaching that alone would be only slightly easier than storming a god's divine realm.
If it hadn't been for the advantages granted by his unique innate abilities, even Orsaga would've had no good way to handle it.
Now, he couldn't see the full extent of the city named Augustus, nor did he understand exactly what lay within—but he wasn't worried.
His innate abilities hadn't raised any alarms, which meant the detection spells likely couldn't penetrate his disguise.
That disguise had been carefully crafted: dozens of spells layered atop his innate power to form a chameleon cloak.
Even if a god descended, they might not be able to see through it.
It was his greatest safeguard—the reason he could roam freely through enemy territory.
Without it, he'd be hiding in some obscure corner, living in the shadows—not boldly wandering into the lion's den like this.
Because no matter how immortal his Unholy Wraith Body made him, getting sealed for ten thousand years was still a massive headache.
And as a fine young man just past a hundred years old, Orsaga had no intention of wasting time like that.
__
T/N:
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