{Chapter: 226: Augustus}
A Few Days Later
As the sun began its slow descent, casting golden hues across the landscape, a massive city gradually emerged on the horizon.
At first, it was only a blurry silhouette against the edge of the sky. But with each turn of the wheels and every passing mile, the towering spires and sprawling walls of the city grew clearer and grander, until it dominated the view ahead—an unmistakable beacon of civilization.
The long journey had gone unexpectedly smoothly.
Thanks to Dex's presence.
Though the caravan passed through dangerous terrain—forests, ravines, and abandoned settlements—where monsters or bandits typically lurked, nothing out of the ordinary occurred. The few opportunists who attempted an ambush didn't even get the chance to see the light of day before being dealt with swiftly and silently.
Most of them died before they had time to scream.
Some never even saw who or what killed them.
One of the mercenaries, a rugged-looking man with a few fresh scars and an overly cautious nature, adjusted the band around his forehead and grumbled under his breath.
"This mission's going way too smooth... something's not right."
His companion, Bensecker, glanced sideways at him, equally puzzled.
"I know," he admitted, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword. "I expected trouble—maybe a few hired killers or some monster ambushes along the way. But we haven't even seen a hungry beast, let alone a hired blade."
He wasn't exaggerating.
Even the only magical beast that had made an appearance—a majestic Cloud-Winged Eagle that soared across the sky one day—vanished mysteriously without making a sound. One moment it was there, the next it was gone, as if the heavens themselves had swallowed it whole.
'This mission… it's suspiciously easy,' Bensecker thought.
His gaze drifted toward a particular carriage near the center of the convoy—an unassuming vehicle from the outside, yet guarded with an unnatural aura. It was the one carrying Dex.
It didn't take a genius to put the pieces together.
From the very beginning, Dex's presence had stood out like a candle in pitch-black darkness. His looks, his aura, his demeanor—even the way he moved—was unlike anyone Bensecker had ever seen before. He didn't just exude strength. He radiated pressure, the kind that made your instincts scream that you were standing near something ancient and dangerous.
Even the so-called nobles in the caravan—those with powdered faces, silken robes, and highborn pride—looked like street beggars compared to him. When they crossed paths with Dex, their arrogance vanished like morning mist under sunlight. Their backs straightened, their eyes lowered, and their mouths clamped shut, as if even breathing too loudly in his presence would invite divine retribution.
And the ornaments Dex wore?
The decorations sewn into his clothes looked like jewels at first glance, but Bensecker was convinced they were something else entirely—something priceless. He wouldn't be surprised if those gems alone were worth more than every wagon, weapon, and warrior in the convoy combined, even one of the gems.
Honestly, Bensecker had no idea why someone like Dex would be traveling with commoners like them.
It was like a dragon had decided to walk among sheep.
Unfathomable, yet real.
Still, if this dragon offered protection, then Bensecker wasn't going to complain. In fact, if he wasn't certain that a man like Dex would never acknowledge someone as insignificant as him, he might've dropped his sword and pledged his loyalty right then and there.
'This man... he's a golden thigh I can't even begin to estimate. If I could just latch on somehow—my whole life would change.'
He knew such thoughts were foolish, but the temptation was still there.
Unbeknownst to him, Dex had already picked up on his musings.
But Dex didn't care.
He had long grown used to people like Bensecker—those whose thoughts reeked of flattery and silent desperation. Bootlickers were as common as weeds.
He didn't even consider Bensecker worth a bite.
'Not even enough to get stuck between my teeth.'
Instead, his attention was on the glowing cluster of souls in his palm—flickering wisps of ethereal light, some bright with power, others dim but volatile. A soft, devilish smirk played across his lips.
These were the spoils he had gathered during the journey—his reward for using the two fugitive brothers as bait.
And what a bountiful harvest it had been.
Over a hundred souls, many of them far stronger than the brothers themselves. That alone proved how valuable their existence had become. Sparing them had turned out to be a profitable decision.
'Turns out keeping you two around was a wise investment,' Dex thought, watching the brothers from afar.
They sat quietly in the last wagon, completely unaware that their lives were hanging by a thread, a thread Dex held loosely between two fingers.
At that moment, Dex considered what to do with them.
He didn't particularly care for mercy. But he wasn't feeling especially cruel, either.
Killing them now would be a waste. They had served him well, whether knowingly or not. And besides—he wasn't without some semblance of twisted sentimentality.
'I'm a demon with a conscience, after all…' he mused, eyes gleaming with amusement.
Still, letting them go free? No.
That would be reckless.
The death penalty had to wait—but the punishment of eternal service could not.
Their freedom was a luxury they no longer had the right to ask for.
As the city loomed closer and the scent of brick, smoke, and human sweat filled the air, Dex made up his mind.
He peered through layers of magical interference and distance, his sharp gaze penetrating countless spatial obstacles like paper. With a flick of his fingers, Dex examined the contents clutched in the arms of the two brothers and effortlessly traced their exact location through the dimensional imprint they left behind.
Without needing to move an inch, Dex conjured a projection of himself and sent it across the coordinates there. That projection—no less terrifying than his true body—descended silently upon the target, bypassing all defensive mechanisms with absurd ease. The so-called "trial barrier," supposedly created to test skill and determination, was obliterated with a single punch. It didn't shatter dramatically; it simply ceased to exist, as if reality itself bent around Dex's will.
Moments later, the amount of treasure stored within Dex's private dimensional space swelled ever so slightly.
To prevent the brothers from being emotionally destroyed upon reaching that location and finding only dust where their treasure once was, Dex made a small adjustment.
He left something behind—something special.
Relying on the information inside the secret letter he intercepted, Dex modified the trial's mechanism. Now, instead of yielding rewards for success, it had become a cruel and precise death trap. The moment someone failed… their life would end on the spot. Swift. Unforgiving. Clean.
"An absolutely flawless substitution," he mused.
From a demonic perspective, it was the perfect lesson. And while the students might only get one chance to learn it, the lesson would be unforgettable… if only for a second.
In the time it took others to blink, Dex finished everything. His projection vanished, mission accomplished.
Then, with his usual casual grace, Dex lifted the cluster of souls he had harvested earlier and casually compressed them into a glowing, rice ball-shaped mass between his fingers. He tossed it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, swallowing in two or three bites.
The result?
Mildly satisfying.
He wasn't full—but at least it stopped the gnawing emptiness in his stomach.
---
Eventually, the convoy slowed to a halt as it approached the towering gates of the city of Augustus.
The horses neighed softly, sensing the dense magic in the air. The city loomed like a fortress blessed by arcane gods, its massive defensive walls etched with glowing runes and shimmering wards.
The coachman, wearing a somewhat nervous expression, knocked gently on the door of Dex's carriage. His hand trembled slightly, though he did his best to hide it.
"Sir," the coachman began respectfully, bowing slightly even though the door was still closed, "there have been reports of monster invasions in the surrounding regions. As per the city's regulations, every traveler—regardless of rank—must undergo an inspection before entering Augustus. For everyone's safety... I must ask that you step out and prepare."
He winced after speaking, inwardly bracing for a storm of anger. Nobles—especially those of real power—didn't take kindly to being questioned, let alone ordered around by commoners.
But to his surprise, a calm and indifferent voice answered from within, "Understood."
The coachman blinked.
No reprimand? No outrage? No arrogant scoffing?
A wave of relief washed over him, and he bowed again before stepping aside with gratitude, thanking whatever deity was listening for sparing him from humiliation—or death.
---
The carriage door opened with a soft creak.
Dex emerged.
He stepped down, one foot after another, with such effortless elegance that time itself seemed to slow. His gaze locked onto the city gates in the near distance.
From his unique perception, the sky above Augustus wasn't simply blue—it was layered with overlapping veils of arcane structure. Dozens upon dozens of magical barriers arrays weaved together in intricate patterns, each loop reinforcing another in a perfectly nested design, like arcane matryoshka dolls.
Even for someone of his intelligence and power, Dex couldn't fully analyze the entire formation at a glance. The complexity was staggering.
"Impressive," he murmured.
The magical defenses of Augustus were a hundred times more advanced than those of frontier towns like Mites. If anything, it was second only to the old continental defense line—an immense magical barrier built in unity by dozens of nations to hold back apocalyptic forces.
Dex still remembered standing before that wall. Even he had hesitated at the time.
For the average lifeform—no, even for the majority of elite warriors and archmages—passing through that ancient line of defense would be no easier than storming a god's holy realm.
Had Dex not been not had his innate abilities, there would've been no elegant solution. Just force. Brutality. Or avoidance.
Compared to that titanic structure, Augustus was certainly more modest, but still impressive enough to earn a rare nod of approval.
Dex, however, wasn't concerned in the slightest. Not today.
His innate warning ability remained silent. That told him all he needed to know. The various detection enchantments layered over Augustus posed no real threat. None of them could see through his transformation.
Because Dex was cloaked beneath something far beyond ordinary magic: polymorphed or a camouflage spell intricately overlaid with dozens of enchantments, all woven atop his natural shapeshifting powers.
It wasn't just powerful—it was divine-tier craftsmanship.
Even a god would likely overlook him if he didn't make noise.
This was his greatest weapon when traveling across enemy territory. It allowed him to walk into cities like Augustus with impunity, dressed like royalty, talking like a noble, and nobody would question it.
Without this security, he might've been forced to lurk in the shadows of desolate ruins or hide in some forgotten corner of the world.
And while Dex did possess the [Immortal Evil Body]—a trait that made him effectively unkillable—being sealed away for thousands of years in a forgotten tomb or holy prison still sounded like a horrible waste of time.
Especially for someone like him.
He was still young—barely over a hundred years old—and too good-looking to rot away behind stone walls.
Life was meant to be enjoyed.
And so, with a faint smile curling on his lips, he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, straightened the jewels on his collar, and prepared to enter the city of Augustus like any other charming, unassuming nobleman.
Little did the city know… the devil had just knocked on their gate.