Orian stood in the back garden of the Rasanto estate, where Kit was doing garden work as the sole maid in the mansion. The back garden, much like the front, was in a state of neglect, overrun with weeds, and lacking the vibrant colors of healthy flowers. The paths were muddy and cracked, adding to the overall dilapidated atmosphere. Orian took in a deep breath. "Ah, it smells horrible," he remarked to himself, finding the state of the garden to be a perfect match for the dilapidated mansion. Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him. "What are you doing here?" it asked.
Turning around, Orian faced Marcus, who stood beside him with his hand resting on the pommel of his saber. "I could ask you the same thing, Marcus," Orian replied, unfazed by the confrontational tone. "I do not have ill intentions like you, Lorenz. I know you're here because Kit's here," Marcus retorted, his words laced with disdain.
Orian let out a sigh, shaking his head. "I told you to call me by my name," he reminded Marcus before letting out a chuckle. "But don't worry, I won't do anything to her yet. I'll only do something after I'm paid," he explained casually, turning to face Marcus directly.
"You're a monster," Marcus accused, his gaze filled with disgust. Orian simply grinned in response. "Thank you," he replied mockingly, unfazed by Marcus's hostility. "But are you not a bigger one for not trying to stop me?" he countered with a shrug, enjoying the exchange. "I cannot do anything to you until my contract is due, but know this: as soon as this is over, me and The Razorcharge will end you and your company," Marcus declared firmly, his imposing stature towering over Orian, who remained unfazed, maintaining his smile.
"Honestly, I'd like to see you try," Orian replied, his gaze flicking to the saber at Marcus's waist. "With that blade of yours, you're the only one who could even hope to reach me."
Marcus scoffed. "I'm surprised you're still breathing with that level of overconfidence. But if you think I'm the sole threat to you, then you're mistaken."
"You're referring to the strongest, aren't you?" Orian asked, raising an eyebrow.
"There's a reason they call you the deadliest instead of the strongest. There's a power hierarchy, and you don't fit into its equation," Marcus explained.
Orian nodded, turning his gaze back to the garden. "You're correct about that, but mistaken about one thing," he said. Marcus raised an eyebrow, prompting Orian to continue.
"I'm not overconfident. If I were, I would have gone to Wolfdale myself."
Despite Orian's overwhelming power, he opted not to go to Wolfdale. Despite being hailed as the deadliest, he remained cautious of demons. He didn't know the true extent of the demon's strength, other than its ability to single-handedly eliminate several groups of veteran mercenaries. However, Orian, Jakel, Mar, Mincs, and Marcus could achieve similar feats, but that didn't equate to being on the same power level.
Orian had sent Jakel, Mar, and the other three and their companies to test the demon's strength. If it could eliminate them effortlessly, he would have a better understanding of its power. "Sending them is pointless. How would you even know if they gave the demon a tough time or not?" asked Marcus, also turning his gaze to the garden.
Orian closed one eye and smirked. "I have my ways," he replied cryptically, as a gust of wind swept through the area.
What about the people who have arrived there?" asked Marcus, prompting Orian to turn towards him before bursting into laughter. The sudden outburst startled Kit, who nearly dropped the pottery she was holding. Marcus shook his head in response to Orian's laughter.
"Are you seriously worried about them, despite having evaluated them yourself?" Orian managed to say between chuckles, wiping away a tear.
"Even if I evaluated them, they're still unknown factors who could cause trouble if not handled correctly," Marcus explained.
Orian sighed, composing himself. "Who do you think would pose the most threat out of those three?" he asked.
Marcus paused to consider before answering, "The one who I suspect is an elf, which, if true, would make her the most threatening by default."
Orian nodded. "I would agree if not for just one thing," Marcus sighed, "Stop doing that and just say the reason." Orian shrugged, putting his hand to his chin. "I know who she is and what she can do."
Marcus's eyes widened ever so slightly at Orian's words. "That's surprising. Then you should know if she's an elf or not," he commented, and Orian nodded in confirmation.
"Yes, she is an elf, and her name is Zee. If you want her full name, it's Zee Eirina Qinra," Orian disclosed. Marcus squinted at him, suspicion etched on his face.
"Is your relationship good?" he asked, and Orian chuckled.
"Depends on when. In the past, you could say we were something like friends, or more accurately acquaintances. But now, I doubt it's anything other than immediate hostility if she sees me," he explained. Marcus glared at him.
"What did you do to her for her to react like that?" he demanded. Orian smiled.
"Don't worry, I didn't do anything to her. But you know how elves are known to have low empathy? That they view every other race as below them to the point that they tried to exterminate all other races several times?" he posed the question, and Marcus nodded. Orian continued, "Well, Zee was different. She actually cared for people, didn't view everyone as below her. Sure, she was still not as empathetic as most, but she was still unlike any elf I've ever heard of."
Marcus raised an eyebrow at Orian's peculiar way of talking about her. Orian kept going, "And there was this guy who she was close with, real close. I wondered, 'how would she react if he was killed in front of her?' And so I did that. I killed him in front of her, cutting each limb one by one before letting him die of blood loss, all the while she watched. The reactions she gave and the emotions she showed made me feel so ecstatic!"
Marcus clenched his fist as he listened to Orian's words. "This man, what did he look like?" he asked, though he felt like he already knew the answer.
Orian's smile widened. "A man who was in his early twenties, with kind eyes that belonged to someone who couldn't even hurt a fly," Orian began, his voice tinged with a chilling satisfaction. "A man with blue hair and blue eyes, which were impossible to miss. A man named Aarnik Damor, a man Zee loved."