The next two days passed without any major incidents, excluding the occasional burst of agony during exceptionally bumpy parts of the road.
It was largely thanks to yours truly.
Aren't I just the best? Honestly.
I activated Voracity on full blast in the earlier fights, and the lingering traces of aura emitted from my eyes always stuck around for weeks after using it - just like now.
When not directed at anyone in particular, it remained undetectable to most - demonic beasts, though, possessed an innate affinity for sensing such energies.
For that reason, none dared approach our squad.
Well, I could've sent it out in concentrated waves to provoke the beasts, but that would only get me, along with the injured adventurers, killed.
Not like I have a chance of putting up a fight anyways, at least in my current state.
Eventually, the road evened out, prompting me to open my eyes.
After squirming around to get a better picture of the surroundings, a stunning sight came into view.
That's wild... Is that how all human settlements look? I might be ever so slightly jealous.
There were tall spires, spiked walls, and countless multi story houses, of which I could only see the tips from my precarious position.
And it's all built out of stone bricks, too.
While my mother's told me many times just how impressive a human settlement could be, it always sounded too far-fetched be real.
But seeing it now, in person, really put things into perspective.
No wonder they managed to wipe out my tribe. There's gotta be at least a hundred thousand people in just this one town.
As I was gawking, shamelessly putting my own tribe down along the way, I heard footsteps approach our group.
Can I even call it 'our' group, even? I'm not really part of the team.
"I can see you lot have been through quite the ordeal, so let's get this done and dusted quickly. Present your identifications."
A man spoke to the party, his gruff voice grating on my ears.
Why's he gotta sound so pissed?
Kanna responded with an exhausted sigh.
"Yeah, yeah. Here're our IDs."
It's the damned guild identification cards they must be showing. How annoying.
I still held a grudge against those things, after getting caught pretending to be an adventurer by a random human many years ago.
A few moments later, the man spoke again.
"Billiardean, Kanna, Rennie. Identities confirmed. Welcome back to Nether. Oh, and one last thing - I'll need to check the contents of your cart before you can proceed. It's just a formality, really, so I won't take long.
After all, I get paid to waste time on this shit..."
The last part was mumbled in an almost inaudible voice, probably not meant for the party's ears.
At the same time, I sensed the adventurer's hearts skip a beat.
Kanna quickly stepped in to warn the man.
"Wait up, please! The contents of the cart need to remain confidential. Could you call a supervisor over for the verification?"
The man responded in an unamused tone.
"That's for me to decide. Move aside."
After hesitating for a while longer, Kanna, Rennie, and Bill reluctantly stepped away from the cart.
That's bad, right? Definitely bad. What am I expected to say?
The cart creaked, tilting to the side under the weight of the man's comically bulky armor, until finally - he climbed on.
His eyes locked onto mine.
I stared back.
Okay, I've got this. First step to building a good rapport is establishing a friendly atmosphere. Let's put the elder's lessons to use!
"Umm… Yo! Wassup b-bro! How's… H-how's life been..?"
My voice trailed off when I was met with threatening silence.
I cursed my late elder out in my mind.
That failed spectacularly. Your teachings fucking suck, my dear elder.
***
A man stood outside a grand gate, leaning against it and barely holding in a yawn. Still, he couldn't complain about the boredom - his current job was as luxurious as they came.
His only assignment was to read random visitor's IDs with an intimidating look, all the while repeating the same old, rehearsed lines to every one of them.
It was an uneventful job, but at least the pay was good; he was responsible for monitoring one of Nether's offshoot towns, to ensure no criminals made their way inside.
Throughout his many years in the post, nothing of the sort ever happened.
Which was to be expected.
Only a madman would even consider illegally entering such a guarded place.
Yet another group of people approached the gate, but something about them struck a familiar chord.
It didn't take him long to recognize their faces.
They were a notorious group of adventurers, for a multitude of reasons at that.
The last time he saw them out, they were headed for the Red Zone forest - a place so dangerous that even Nether's personal Incineration Squad strayed clear of it.
He recalled their stated reason for the outing, running a hand down his face in exasperation:
'What other reason could there be? Just look at the offer - ninety five gold coins upfront, plus seventy percent of the loot value!'
Crazy bastards.
His mood soured as realized he'd be dealing with them again.
Unfortunately, he couldn't just dismiss them without going through the mandatory procedures, at the risk of getting slapped with a pay cut for negligence.
After a short back and forth, he proceeded to climb aboard the cart, all the while feeling an urge to beat someone up - whomever it was that thought it good idea to make him wear such unwieldy armor.
Finally, he made it up, planning to quickly skim over content check and dismiss the headache-inducing adventurers.
It seemed, however, that his plan wasn't meant to be.
Within the cart, atop a large pile of ridiculously valuable demon carcasses, lay a young man; he was bound in rope and covered in wounds from head to toe, and yet that didn't even register with the guard.
No, what stood out was something else entirely:
The young man's eyes shimmered in an unnaturally vibrant, blood-red color - and that wasn't all.
A layer of metal was embedded into his very flesh, snaking across several parts of his body like a silver tattoo.
He also donned a curved steel blade in place of his lower right arm, grotesquely woven with flesh and bone into his elbow, severed at the join.
The left arm wasn't any better, either.
Instead of regular fingers, a set of five massive claws protruded from the palm, also fused with flesh in the same, barbaric way.
As a child, he frequently heard nighttime horror stories about a particular race of creatures - those of a demonic tribe masquerading as humans, all to devour their unsuspecting victims.
In adulthood, he realized just how unrealistic the tales were, and dismissed them as a load of nonsense.
That was, until Nether's king personally declared them to be a real tribe, deploying his strongest warriors on an execution mission.
That was five years ago, and now, none were left.
…Or so the story went.
As much as he wished to be mistaken, the sight before his eyes was undeniable - without a shadow of a doubt, what laid before him was a true, living Threadripper.
The guard froze; he wondered if he were in the middle of a drunken dream.
Just as he prepared to pinch his cheek, the Threadripper suddenly opened his mouth, revealing two rows of sharp, bloodied teeth.
"Umm… Yo! Wassup b-bro! How's… H-how's life been..?"
"..?"
This isn't real. It can't be. I must've had too much to drink last night. Yeah.
This is all just a weird dream…
With those thoughts, his knees buckled and he fell over, unconscious.
*Clang!*
His helmed head hit the pile of carapaces, its impact reverberating for several seconds.
The three adventurers stared at the guard, and then at each other, bearing unreadable expressions all throughout.
"Now what?"
"Haah… Let's just call the guild leader over."
"Mm."
Eventually, looking completely done with the whole thing, they hauled Ori further into the town.
The guard's body tumbled around cart right by his own.
***
A day had passed since that weird welcome.
Several more people were left stunned by my existence, but at least nobody else straight up tumbled down.
Unlike that one dude.
As expected, I was detained in some basement not long after.
I gave my new residence a thorough scan, a surprised exclamation leaving my mouth.
"They really went all out, huh?"
The ceiling had a row of bores punched into it, letting sunlight seep through.
The stone walls were dry - not a hit of mold in sight - and the shackles binding my hands weren't restricting bloodflow.
Hell, even the security's top notch!
The stone walls were enchanted, and so were the metal bars.
They called this place the Royal Detention, right? Bit weird that I was put in such a comfy prison, but they're probably just trying to butter me up so I don't show any defiance once the interrogation begins.
Coming to that conclusion, I briefly checked the nearby cells, noting that they were completely empty, and leaned back to get some sleep.
*Creeeak*
At that exact moment, basement's door creaked open, and man walked in. I could only laugh at the timing.
The man held a tray in his hands. Walking up to my cell, he unlocked the door and pushed said tray towards me.
"What is-"
I tried asking what the man was up to, but he interrupted my words with his own:
"Your rations. Next serving tomorrow, same time."
Without giving me a chance to respond, he turned around and walked off just as briskly as he came, closing my cell's door behind.
"Hahah, no way. They're even feeding me? This must be the 'heaven' humans love to rave about so much."
I'm starting to understand the appeal, if this is what it's like.
With those words, I stared up at the sky - the hypothetical sky, as all I could see right now was a dull ceiling - and offered a prayer.
…Though perhaps calling it a prayer was a big stretch.
You seeing this, my dearest little brother? Even someone like me gets to enjoy some luxury.
What is it I'm meant to say in situations like this? Oh, right.
"Glory be to God above. Wait, does God live above or below? Eh, who cares; thank you God, wherever the fuck you are."
A beaming smile, ear to ear, involuntarily crossed my face as I gave the tray of goodies a look.
There's the water. I may be a Threadripper, but I'd die without anything to drink all the same.
And then, there's the, uhh, food?
I poked the mass of nondescript, gray slop, unsure of whether it were meant to be consumed.
"Oh well, I don't need to eat regular foods for survival anyways."
Despite saying that, curiously welled up, and I decided to give the sludge a taste.
While eating was not a necessity, I did enjoy the process - for the taste alone, if nothing else.
And what a good decision it was:
"!!"
The hell? It tastes better than anything I've had in years!
Touched by the generosity, a tear damn near rolled down my cheek.
I spent the next hour slowly savoring my meal and gulped it all down with the murky water, only letting out a disappointed sigh when I realized the bowl was empty.
The man said I'd be getting another portion tomorrow, right? Ain't called the Royal Detention for no reason, I suppose.
With nothing but time on my hands, I eventually grew bored and decided to try sleeping again.
The deadline for my upcoming interrogation drew closer still.