The next day.
Augustus.
Standing in a corner of the city, Orsaga watched the bustling streets and the endless flow of people.
Lifting his head slightly, he glanced up at the blazing sun still high in the sky, yawned nonchalantly, and then calmly asked a young boy—no more than seven or eight years old—who lingered in the shadows nearby:
"Why have you been staring at me?"
From appearance alone, the child looked like an ordinary young human. But Orsaga could clearly smell the thick scent of the Abyss on him.
Grinning wide, the child revealed a mouthful of narrow, razor-sharp teeth and replied,
"We're on the same team, aren't we? Thought I'd come discuss things a bit ahead of time. After all, four demons have their eyes on that place."
By "four demons," he meant those targeting the Grand Library.
As the city's largest repository of knowledge, the Grand Library had drawn the interest of over ten demons. Even though most demons cared little for knowledge and preferred raw violence, that place had still caught their attention. Unfortunately for them, they were a step too slow—Orsaga and the other three had already claimed it.
If not for the need to conserve strength for the coming battle, things might've gotten messy right then and there, with everyone duking it out to determine who truly had the right to the target.
Orsaga simply shrugged at the suggestion. "Fine, we can talk—once everyone else gets here."
This whole "same team" thing meant nothing to him.
As a demon, Orsaga understood all too well that he was never truly on anyone's team. So-called "allies" were nothing more than tools to split the burden.
"Kehehehe..."
The child let out a creepy laugh before slowly retreating into the shadows, avoiding the hated sunlight once more.
Originally, he'd wanted to talk about how they might edge out the other two competitors, but seeing Orsaga's total indifference, he knew he was wasting his time.
Though he felt a flicker of annoyance, he ultimately chose to endure it—he still couldn't figure out Orsaga's true strength.
Demons with a temperament as "patient" as his weren't exactly common these days.
As for Orsaga, he merely cast a glance filled with disdain at the retreating figure and didn't bother saying more.
Planning? What's the point?
In the end, it all came down to whoever grabbed it first.
As for "allocation"?
Who had the right to allocate anything among demons?
Verbal agreements, in demon society, were no more binding than a passing breeze.
At best, they were just veiled schemes to push others into danger or to set up a betrayal.
---
As the sun began to set.
Two more figures arrived at the designated meeting point.
Together with Orsaga, there were now two High-Rank Demons and two Greater-Rank Demons.
Unlike Orsaga—who didn't care about sunlight—the other three, including both Greater-Rank Demons, were visibly uncomfortable under the sun's direct rays.
After leaving the polluted lands, this world had already started suppressing their powers. The sunlight here, symbolic of holiness and exorcism, didn't harm them directly—but it certainly made them uneasy.
A demon with the appearance of a middle-aged beastman scanned the still-busy street and muttered to himself, "Still have to wait…"
According to their contract, they couldn't act until a set time.
For demons with little patience, the wait was agonizing.
After a moment, he looked at his three 'teammates' and asked, "Once the time comes, we charge straight in. No interference. Whoever grabs the goods keeps them. Any objections?"
"No."
"Fine."
"Alright."
No strategy. No tactics. The discussion skipped straight to how loot would be divided.
It was confidence—or maybe arrogance.
Either way, the message was clear: there would be no cooperation. Everyone would just charge in, and if they survived, they'd fight over the spoils. If they died—so be it.
A simple, brutal plan.
Just the way Orsaga liked it.
---
Meanwhile, other demons were also quietly infiltrating this fortified city, thanks to internal tampering that had weakened the defensive wards.
Each one silently approached their chosen targets.
As the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, a faint smile appeared on Orsaga's lips:
"The final light of day… always such a thrilling moment."
---
Dong! Dong!
The sound of a drumbeat echoed beside the city gates.
A gate guard shouted to the crowd near the entrance,
"If you're leaving, leave now! We're closing the gates soon!"
While there was no formal curfew in the city, the gates still closed at a fixed time every evening and wouldn't reopen until dawn.
During this time, unless specially authorized, even teleportation spells were blocked by the city's protective wards.
It was a measure meant to ensure safety—preventing sneak attacks in the dead of night.
But now that those very wards had been compromised from within, the measure had become a liability.
Not that the citizens knew any of this.
They continued entering and exiting the city, chatting and laughing as usual.
---
Boom—Thud!
As the appointed hour arrived, the massive gates closed with a deep, echoing thud.
The officers on duty, now relieved, began chatting casually with the soldiers about where they'd eat during their break.
Then—
"How lucky… how unfortunate."
A strange voice reached the ears of the gate officer.
The first half of the sentence sounded like a child's soft voice.
The second half—like the rasp of a dying elder.
A chill ran down his spine.
Whipping his head around, he was shocked to find a little girl—six or seven years old—standing right beside him.
Years of combat instinct kicked in. His hand went straight to his weapon, ready to draw it at a moment's notice.
With a stern expression, he demanded,
"Who are you?"
The soldiers nearby finally realized something was wrong. Their smiles vanished as they stared at the girl, eyes filled with suspicion and alarm.
But the girl simply repeated the same phrase in that ghastly rasp:
"How lucky… how unfortunate…"
The childlike face, paired with the eerie voice, sent a shiver down everyone's spine.
The officer's brow furrowed. He barked, "You—"
But before he could finish, a fountain of blood burst forth.
In a flash, his entire upper body vanished, leaving only his lower half standing stiffly in place.
And the little girl?
She was chewing.
Gnawing on something, slow and deliberate, like she was savoring a meal.
After a few bites, accompanied by the crunch of shattering bone, she swallowed.
Licking the blood from the corner of her lips, her eyes began to glow—her pupils vanishing, replaced by a crimson light.
Squinting slightly, she grinned brightly and said to the horrified soldiers and civilians:
"You're all truly… unfortunate."
If they'd just taken a single step outside the gate, they might've survived.
As her words fell, the sky above the city darkened completely.
The corrupted wards, hidden until now, began to reveal themselves—radiating an ominous, otherworldly light.
Moments later, under the terrified gazes of countless residents, black mist began to seep from the runes and glyphs, engulfing the entire city.
Cutting it off from the outside world.
---
Outside the city.
A commoner who had just left Augustus looked back at the empty walls and muttered,
"That's strange… not a single soldier on the ramparts today?"
His companion glanced over and replied nonchalantly,
"Who cares? I saw someone up there earlier. They're probably busy doing something else."
"…Guess so."
Shrugging indifferently, the first man accepted the explanation.
After all, it wasn't really his problem.
____
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