As Aurora opened the dark, shimmering portal and stepped through, Cleia followed closely behind, the edges of the rift swallowing the last traces of light around them. When the world finally calmed, they found themselves inside an abandoned house, its walls crumbling and specks of dust floating lazily in the faint beams of light that managed to penetrate the grimy windows. The air smelled of decay and something metallic, a silence so thick it pressed against their ears.
Aurora's eyes darted across the room, scanning the crumbling furniture and the remnants of a life long abandoned. "I think... we might have gone to the wrong place," he muttered, his brow furrowed as confusion crept across his face. His voice sounded strange in the oppressive silence, echoing faintly against the peeling wallpaper.
Cleia shook her head slowly, her fingers grazing a chipped table as she surveyed the room. "No," she said firmly, though her voice was slightly shaky, "I'm sure this is just an abandoned house in the Kingdom. Nothing else."
Aurora sighed, taking a few steps forward, her gaze roaming the walls and floor. Every corner seemed to mock him with its emptiness, and the lack of an obvious exit made him huff in frustration. "What a joke," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair.
Then, after a few moments of tense silence, Aurora simply stepped forward and, without warning, passed through a solid wall, disappearing only to reappear on the other side of the house, outside, in the cold, dim light of the overgrown courtyard.
She turned to Cleia with a small smile, dusting off her coat. "Much more efficient, don't you think?" He said, with a teasing smile.
Cleia blinked, her mouth slightly open, clearly unsure of how to respond. "Well... if you think so..." she finally said, her tone tinged with bewilderment.As Aurora opened the dark, shimmering portal and stepped through, Cleia followed closely behind, the edges of the rift swallowing the last traces of light around them. When the world finally calmed, they found themselves inside an abandoned house, its walls crumbling and specks of dust floating lazily in the faint beams of light that managed to penetrate the grimy windows. The air smelled of decay and something metallic, a silence so thick it pressed against their ears.
They found themselves standing within a district of Valdoria, the most powerful of all human kingdoms and, without question, the most technologically advanced. The streets stretched wide beneath towering buildings of glass and steel, glowing signs humming softly above the crowds. Nothing about the city resembled the dusty images of feudal towns Aurora had once imagined.
"Wow… this city feels anything but medieval," Aurora said, his voice carrying a note of genuine uncertainty as his eyes wandered upward.
Cleia tilted her head slightly, confusion flickering across her face. "Hmm? What are you talking about, Mr. Aurora? Their technology is far inferior to ours."
Aurora said nothing aloud, but his thoughts churned. I really wonder what definition of the Middle Ages you're working with. What lay before him was not merely an advanced town compared to history books. Skyscrapers pierced the sky. Roads gleamed with polished stone and metal. To think that such a city still operated under a monarchy left him quietly astonished.
As they walked, Aurora became increasingly aware of the way people dressed. Their clothing was modern, varied, and utterly unlike his own. He felt exposed, out of place, until his gaze landed on a large guild building bearing a sign that read Rokurokubi.
That sounds Japanese, he thought.
The adventurers gathered there wore outfits strikingly similar to his own. That realization did little to comfort him. If they mistook him for a guild member, things could become complicated very quickly.
"Mr. Aurora, come here!" Cleia suddenly exclaimed, excitement bubbling in her voice.
Before he could respond, she grabbed his hand and dragged him down the street, weaving effortlessly through the crowd until they stopped in front of a shop.
"Orvi Shop?" Aurora read aloud. "What is that?"
"A clothing store," Cleia replied immediately.
"I didn't mean that," he muttered. "But whatever…"
Cleia darted around the shop like a child set loose in a toy store. "Mr. Aurora, what about this one? Do you like this? And this one instead?"
"Hold still," Aurora said sharply, grabbing her gently but firmly by the head. "Listen. Why don't we go there?"
He pointed across the street to an old bar-restaurant, its wooden exterior darkened by age.
"Maybe we can eat something nice," he added.
"Oh… okay," Cleia muttered, clearly disappointed.
They entered the establishment, and as the door creaked shut behind them, the scent of old wood and time-worn furniture washed over Aurora.
"What a lovely smell," he said, smiling faintly as tension drained from his shoulders.
Cleia recoiled slightly, her expression twisting in displeasure. "Where did you take me, Mr. Aurora?" she asked, her voice low and irritated.
They sat at a table near the wall. Aurora studied the menu carefully, though none of the dishes resembled anything he remembered from his previous world.
"Have you decided?" the waiter asked cheerfully.
"I'll have the Nautachiot," Aurora replied.
"I'll have a Kvithrees," Cleia added.
Once the waiter left, Aurora broke the silence. "When I said I wanted a place to relax, I meant somewhere quiet. Somewhere peaceful. Not a human city."
"But I wanted to go shopping at Orvi's shop," Cleia shot back.
How insolent, Aurora thought.
The food arrived shortly after. Aurora's Nautachiot resembled grilled beef, while Cleia's Kvithrees looked similar to a bowl of rice.
"That'll be 100 Silfry," the clerk said.
Aurora glanced at Cleia.
"Ah, I see…" she muttered, pulling coins from her pocket and handing them over.
As they left the bar, Cleia crossed her arms. "You owe me 100 Silfry."
"Sure, sure," Aurora replied dismissively.
Outside, Aurora's attention drifted back to the Rokurokubi guild. Curiosity tugged at him, and without warning, he walked inside with Cleia close behind.
"And now you're dragging me into a guild?" she snapped, even more annoyed.
"Don't be a child," Aurora replied, shooting her a sharp look.
"Excuse me…" a voice interrupted.
A young man, no older than nineteen, casually slung an arm around Aurora's neck. "Hey, boy. Is this how you treat such a beautiful girl?"
This guy is dead, Cleia thought instantly.
Aurora turned slowly, his gaze cold and suffocating. "Take your hands off me."
The boy stepped forward, raising his voice. "You think you can scare me? I'm a 5-A rank adventurer. One of the highest in this guild."
Aurora's thoughts raced. I want to kill him. The fact that someone this idiotic touched me is revolting. But I can't. If I release my aura, I'll draw too much attention.
His patience snapped.
The boy turned to Cleia. "He doesn't deserve you. Choose someone better. Someone like me."
He bowed and extended his hand.
That was the final straw.
Aurora released his aura.
The ground shook violently. Every person present collapsed to their knees, crushed beneath an overwhelming pressure. Terror filled the air. Even Cleia fell, trembling, unable to stand.
This was the aura of a Demon King. Fear. Chaos. Absolute despair.
Aurora touched the boy's arm with a single finger. It exploded.
By Aurora's authority time had slowed down, every second stretched into agony. His scream tore through the room.
Aurora grabbed him by the neck and tore off his head.
Still unsatisfied, Aurora reattached it, restoring his life and consciousness. He burned the memory of the moment into the boy's mind so it would never fade.
"Aurora…"
The aura vanished instantly.
Aurora turned to see one of the Twelve Heroes, Bjorn.
"Bjorn… how long has it been?"
"I felt a terrifying aura," Bjorn said. "Of all people, it had to be you."
"Surprised?" Aurora smirked. "Or did you think someone else could possess power like mine?"
"Prideful as ever," Bjorn said, gripping his axe. "You won't last much longer."
"You have a fascinating relationship with logic."
Bjorn's expression hardened. He swung his axe down, embedding it in Aurora's head. Neither moved.
"You're just as bad as last time," Aurora said calmly.
"Remind me," Bjorn replied. "Who died?"
"And yet, here I am."
"You still lost. And you'll lose again."
"There were twelve of you, weren't there?"
Bjorn stepped back into a defensive stance. "The others will arrive soon."
Aurora turned away.
Bjorn addressed Cleia. "You're terrified, you're even shaking. Why do you serve a creature like him? We can defend you. After all, we already beat him once."
"I don't think that's any of your business," she replied quietly.
Bjorn let them leave, after all, what could he do alone?
Later, back at the castle, Aurora collapsed.
"What the hell…" he whispered.
Everything he'd done felt distant, like a nightmare he'd only just awakened from. He rushed to the bathroom and vomited violently.
"What's happening to me?"
Then he remembered.
The Demon King's curse.
Little by little, the humanity of the individual will be buried… until one day, they are no longer human at all.