Cleia was the first to break the silence.
"But we should talk about more serious matters, Lord Aurora," she said. "In particular… your other subordinates."
Aurora raised a single eyebrow. The motion was slow and measured, as though even acknowledging the question required restraint. His crimson gaze sharpened as it settled on her.
"What about them?" he asked. "Are they here as well?"
Cleia hesitated.
For a moment, the air itself seemed to tighten around her chest. Her lips parted, then pressed together, as if the words were too heavy to be spoken. When she finally met Aurora's eyes, something fragile flickered within them—an insecurity she could not fully hide.
"They're dead," she said softly. "All of them. I'm the only one left."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Aurora's jaw stiffened. His teeth clenched as something ancient and unstable stirred behind his eyes. His thoughts blurred, and before he could stop himself, his voice tore
through the air.
"How is that possible?" he growled. "My subordinates… those who were considered equals even to the [Unaudible], who surpassed the [Unaudible] themselves!"
The words rang with conviction—yet beneath them lurked uncertainty. A faint ringing passed through his mind, like a memory just beyond reach. He paused, brow furrowing, his expression twisting as he searched through the broken fragments of his memory.
At last, his gaze returned to Cleia.
She nodded once.
Slowly. Firmly.
"As far as I know," she said, choosing each word carefully, "they were annihilated by the [Unaudible]."
The moment the name left her lips, the world trembled.
Aurora's presence exploded outward, uncontrolled and instinctive. His aura flooded the Endless Castle like a violent tide, sweeping through corridors and halls without mercy. The air became crushingly dense, pressing down with invisible weight.
Cleia gasped as her knees struck the stone floor. The pressure forced her even lower, until she was pinned completely against the ground, as though gravity itself had rebelled.
Aurora stood unmoving at the center of it all, fists clenched, power blazing without restraint.
"Cleia," he said at last, his voice low and strained, "I may need to find somewhere to cool off…"
The pressure vanished.
Cleia drew in a sharp breath, her lungs burning as she slowly pushed herself up. Fear still clung to her like a shadow—but beneath it, something else flickered in her eyes.
Excitement.
"Well," she said, brushing herself off, "I might have an idea."
A small, knowing smile curved her lips.
…
Aurora crossed his arms, surveying his surroundings with clear discomfort.
"Are you certain this is a good idea?" he asked. "Do these humans really not know what I look like?"
Cleia walked a few steps ahead of him, her hands clasped behind her back, humming softly as if this were nothing more than a casual stroll rather than sheer madness. Her plan had been simple: take the Demon King into human territory, without armor or mask, where no one could recognize him.
"I'm pretty sure they don't," she replied confidently. "No one has ever seen you like this. Aside from the thirteen heroes, of course. Even the King only knew your face from their descriptions."
Aurora let out a slow breath—half sigh, half growl.
Without warning, he reached out and flicked her ear. It wasn't gentle, but it wasn't cruel either.
"Very well," he muttered. "But was it really necessary to make me wear a suit?"
He tugged irritably at the unfamiliar fabric, casting it a dark look as though it were an affront to his very existence.
Aurora moved forward with slow, steady steps, wrapped in an darkness that was not only part of his presence, but of his clothing as well.
His outfit was dominated by absolute black—deep, uncompromising. The high-collared, form-fitting suit followed every line of his body like a second skin, simple in appearance yet clearly designed to allow unrestricted movement.
Over it, a tactical harness crossed his torso. The sturdy straps and metal buckles were arranged with precision.
A long black coat draped over his shoulders, left open at the front. The heavy fabric swayed with each step, casting deep shadows around his figure. The lighter inner lining barely broke the darkness.
Reinforced pants were tucked into heavy boots with thick soles, built to endure any terrain.
Cleia, on the other hand, did not change her outfit and remained dressed as she always was.
And so, the two of them set off toward the human kingdom.
As they exited the castle, a question surfaced in Aurora's mind.
"I wonder how far humans have evolved… If they possess magic, they should be extremely advanced technologically."
"Are you thinking about something, Lord Aurora?" Cleia asked gently.
"Yes. I was wondering how technologically advanced humans are."
"Well, they haven't progressed much in the years you were gone, Lord Aurora."
"Oh?…"
Another question rose within Aurora's thoughts.
"I wonder how long this 'Aurora' has been dead… and more importantly, who exactly is this 'Aurora'?"
In an instant, his curiosity soared. He wanted to know more about this Demon King and his history. However, he couldn't ask Cleia directly without arousing suspicion, so he resolved to investigate Aurora on his own.
Meanwhile, the two had left the castle and begun walking through the Forbidden Lands.
They were rotten, lifeless lands. The ground was black like burned wood, and mold covered every rock. The air itself was toxic, yet neither Aurora nor Cleia were affected.
These lands were forbidden precisely because of the powerful poison that lingered in the atmosphere. Many adventurers failed to survive even five minutes after breathing the air.
Only adventurers of a certain level could enter and live.
These levels, called "Ranks," were divided into numbers and letters. They were dictated by the world itself, and as one grew stronger, their Rank increased automatically.
There were ten numbers and three letters, for a total of thirty Ranks.
From weakest to strongest:
10C – 10B – 10A
…
1C – 1B – 1A
The lower the number, the stronger the adventurer. As for the letters, the hierarchy was simple: A was the strongest, C the weakest. Thus, a 10B was stronger than a 10C, a 5C stronger than a 9A, and so on.
However, there existed a Rank above 1: Rank 0.
It too was divided into A, B, and C. It was said that anyone who reached Rank 0 possessed power equal to that of a god. Unfortunately, no human had ever reached that level.
The highest Rank ever recorded in human history was achieved by the hero Veyra, who reached Rank 1C, becoming the only one to cross the threshold of 1.
He died thousands of years ago during an expedition into space. It was said that he was obsessed with the Eternal Black Hole of Damnation, and that, driven by curiosity, he crossed beyond the event horizon.
He never returned.
Only humans could possess a Rank, and only some of them could become "Adventurers"—a true natural selection.
After several minutes of walking, Aurora stopped.
"Can't we simply use teleportation to reach the kingdom closest to the castle?"
"Well, yes… but only you, Lord Aurora, possess such a special ability."
Right, Aurora thought.
"Then I'll open a portal that will take us to the kingdom of Valdoria."
The words left his mouth with disarming naturalness. Only a moment later did he realize he had spoken a name he didn't remember at all.
"Good… little by little, my memories are returning. This will work to my advantage."
A dark portal opened before him. Aurora stepped into it without hesitation, Cleia following close behind.
An instant later, the two appeared inside an abandoned house.