Seeing them unconscious and gravely injured, Orange Hair never imagined things would turn out like this. He, who used to uphold justice even through violence, never thought he would end up hurting fellow Adventurers to this extent.
He didn't feel guilty. He knew that after choosing to follow him, this was bound to happen sooner or later.
But what he didn't expect was how easy it was for him to do it—without the slightest resistance from his heart. As if he truly was someone deserving of this and had been waiting a long time for it to happen.
Does this mean he's a bad person?
Or does his way of upholding justice simply differ?
Even though he understood his reasons, those questions kept surfacing in his mind, almost making him lose control—especially while still in Elemental Unity mode.
Thankfully, he came and delivered a sharp slap across his face, snapping Orange Hair back to reality.
"Once you choose something, you must be prepared for the consequences. If you're still unsure, I'll make you one of the unconscious Adventurers lying here. I don't need someone who can't control themselves and needs to be saved or snapped out of it over and over again."
Hearing that, Orange Hair slapped his own cheek hard, pulling his entire soul out of the terrifying prison called 'thought.'
"Don't worry. I won't do it again. I'm ready now, and I won't back down—because I know this is the right thing to do."
"Even if it means hurting your own friends?" he asked, confirming.
"Of course."
"What if your family stands in your way?" he asked again—a question that made Orange Hair freeze in place, his entire body tense.
He wasn't worried about facing his friends—they had sparred many times before.
But to hurt his family…
He wasn't sure he could do it.
"No need to answer now, there's still time. All I need is you, focused and undistracted," he said with a smirk, then turned to look at the trembling cultists below, stunned they'd just survived the ultimate attack from Adventurers in the capital.
The leader was overjoyed—he had chosen well.
Once the Demon King hears about this, he'll surely rise in ranks for his ability to judge people. He couldn't wait to be at the top of the food chain, living in luxury, free from ridicule and pressure.
"Thank you! Thank you so much for protecting us!" he cried, bowing repeatedly to the two of them—especially the orange-haired one who used his power to shield them.
He never imagined the infamous Burning Star would go so far as to fight fellow Adventurers just to protect them.
"From here on out, leave everything to us! We'll take over, and you two can rest," he continued quickly, calling over two remaining cultists. "You two, take our great lords to the base and treat them well. The rest of you!" he shouted, "Continue the plan! We'll awaken the Demon King and live like royalty!"
They cheered loudly, making Orange Hair grip his sword handle tighter before sighing, trying to hold back his rage.
"Are you going to keep looking like that?" he asked curiously.
Orange Hair looked down at his body and arms, which still resembled the slopes of an active volcano.
"It should've started fading already. Maybe it's because I forced out too much power, so it's still like this. I'm sure I'll return to normal soon."
He then furrowed his brow as he noticed how the man beside him stood casually, seemingly unaffected by the scorching heat he emitted—while the cultists were drenched in sweat.
Then he remembered—this person wasn't an ordinary being.
"Can I ask why you're hiding your face?" he asked curiously.
It was the first time the man looked confused.
"What do you mean?"
"Something is covering your face. Just half of it—I can still see your mouth but not above your nose. I don't know how to explain it, but the power you always use also covers half your face."
Without saying a word, he walked over to the ruins, picked up a shard of glass, and looked at his reflection—just as he had described. Glitches obscured part of his face. It wasn't like a mask—it looked like that part of his face had been erased and replaced with… something else.
His hair was still there, but his faceless appearance resembled an unfinished character that suddenly came to life.
Yet he didn't really care.
He wasn't from this world. It didn't matter if no one knew who he was.
All he had to do was fix this world's problems, and then he'd be done.
Why, you ask?
Simply so he wouldn't get bored.
But to just slaughter everyone outright? That would be boring too.
He much preferred waiting until the end before stepping in. After all, watching them struggle like this was an unmatched spectacle.
Like watching a hyper-realistic movie where you could actually do something to change the plot. That's what he'd been doing ever since he arrived in this world.
Helping, but not really helping. Doing everything his own way without anyone able to stop him.
Because he was in control.
So if you asked—was this for their own good? For their future?
Of course not.
This was purely for entertainment.
He returned to his spot with a grin across his face.
"No wonder you're always on guard. It's because of this."
"You didn't notice?" asked Orange Hair, confused.
"Nope. If you hadn't told me, I probably never would've. And yes, I can see—before you ask," he replied, glancing at the two cultists assigned to escort them.
"Please follow us, great lords," said one of them, bowing.
"No need," he replied, and instantly teleported them to the base—shocking the two so much they fell to the ground. They had never heard of magic this powerful.
The only method of instant travel they knew of was ancient portal magic—which had long been lost. No one knew how to recreate it—especially like what had just happened.
They looked back at the figure walking away with Burning Star, wondering if they even needed to awaken the Demon King—because he already looked like one. And if he wasn't, then just how terrifying was the Demon King to have someone like this as a subordinate?
Inside the base, he used his glitch to scan for anything suspicious, finding a hidden empty room behind a wall—which he immediately destroyed, not caring whether the others saw it or not.
The two cultists could only stand frozen in place, unable to do anything.
Even if they wanted to stop him—how could they?
They were sure their leader would praise them for discovering the hidden room—even without help.
With every step down the stairs, Orange Hair could feel the oppressive aura thickening in the room, accompanied by dark mana slowly seeping into his heart. Thankfully, he was still in Elemental Unity mode—otherwise, he might have lost control from the start.
When they reached the bottom, his eyes widened at the sight of a massive magic circle drawn with blackened blood—evidence it was made long ago, now absorbed into the floor when he tried to touch it.
Not far ahead lay a skull with a decaying suit of armor and a sword hanging beside it.
Below that, an equally ancient wooden table held a yellowed scroll, partly eaten by termites—likely the skull's final writings.
As Orange Hair stepped closer, he suddenly collapsed, overwhelmed by a heavy pressure that nearly made him faint—while the other man walked casually, puzzled at his companion's breathlessness.
But before he could speak, a voice echoed—not in the room.
But in their souls.
"Who are you two, and what are you doing in this room?"