The breathtaking sight stretched before Asura, his eyes widening in awe. The city was far larger than anything he had ever seen in his realm. Sure, human shows had displayed massive, bustling metropolises before, but seeing it in person was an entirely different experience, almost surreal.
Hundreds of cars jammed the streets, honking impatiently as they inched forward, struggling to escape the clutches of heavy traffic. On the sidewalks, a flood of people moved with purpose, weaving around each other as they hurried to their destinations. The discord of engines, voices, and distant sirens crashed down on Asura like a relentless wave.
His keen senses were overwhelmed. The mingling smells of sweat, pollution, and garbage assaulted his nose, making each breath feel thick and dirty. Even his vision struggled to adjust. Lights were everywhere: giant screens mounted on buildings, streetlights gleaming off glass towers, neon signs blinking in erratic patterns, and headlights slicing through the dimming dusk. The towering structures, which humans called skyscrapers, looked impossibly thin and fragile despite their daunting height.
"How do those tall, skinny buildings not just fall over?" he muttered to himself, eyes fixed on the skyline. "Damn, this shit is big." He breathed. "If Bronty could see this…" Lydia laughed, casting him a sideways glance. "Usually, she doesn't say that."
Asura frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" Lydia giggled as she walked before him. "Don't worry about it. It's a human joke." She motioned for him to follow as she descended the steps leading away from the massive cathedral. "Come on. We can't stand around gawking all day."
Asura shook his head, still reeling from the sensory overload, but he trailed after her nonetheless. As they moved through the crowd, something odd struck him. No one was running in terror. Back in the last town, humans had scattered the moment they laid eyes on his four-armed form, but here? People barely reacted. Some cast disinterested glances, others rolled their eyes, and a few arched an eyebrow as though he were just another oddity in their already chaotic lives.
"How come no one is afraid of me?" The ogre asked, pushing through the crowd. Lydia smirked. "You're probably one of the least frightening things in this city. They probably think you're just some weird cosplayer."
"Least frightening? What else could be worse?" He asked with a furrowed brow. Lydia held up a hand and began ticking off her fingers one by one. "Crackheads, social media 'influencers,' conspiracy theorists convinced everyone is a government spy, crazy protesters who attack people with fruit—oh, and Anti-Judex Creationists. Those guys are out there." Asura blinked. "…People attack people with fruit?"
"Yeah, it's a new one for me, too," she said, shaking her head at the absurdity of it.
Walking away, Asura cast a glance behind them and let out an incredulous huff, gazing at the colossus cathedral. The structure loomed over the surrounding buildings like a stone fortress. It was at least five times the size of the previous one he had visited. If that place had been a maze, this one must have been an inescapable labyrinth. Just the thought of all the doors inside made his stomach churn.
Shuddering, he turned his focus back to Lydia, only to be caught off guard by her next question. "Why don't you kill and eat people like the other demons?" She bluntly asked. The repeated use of that word, demon, finally got to him. He had let it slide before, chalking it up to ignorance, but now it was grating on his nerves. "Eating weaklings is pointless." He let out a gruff exhale. "What's the thrill in fighting someone who can't defend themselves? It's boring." His voice was laced with irritation. "I'm not interested in gaining power through that kind of nonsense. I want real fights. Fun fights. Awesome fights."
He cast her a sharp look. "And quit calling us demons. That's racist. There are eight factions, each with multiple species of monsters, and not one of them is called 'demon.' Racist temple bastards. My name is Asura. I'd appreciate it if you used it." Lydia tilted her head, considering his words. She had never met a monster that cared about how it was labeled. Most either ignored human speech altogether or tried to rip her apart before a conversation could even happen.
The idea that monsters had complex emotions had never occurred to her. Then again, in her defense, she had never had the philosophical luxury of contemplating a monster's feelings while fighting for her life. "Asura it is," she said finally. "Sorry for insulting you." He raised a brow. "Huh. Just like that? You believe me?"
"Well, you could be lying, but you seem genuine." Her eyes drifted to him as he walked by her side, watching from the corner. "I can tell from your voice that you really hate that word. I never thought about it being a slur, but it makes sense." She sighed, recalling the past. "I'd hate it if people called me a shitling. Though… they wouldn't have teeth for long if they tried."
Asura chuckled. "It's fine when it's used properly, but not all of us want to torture and devour humans. If you've ever met an actual demon, you'd know they deserve the name." The ogre stared off into the distance, watching the sky meet the city. "Wicked, sadistic assholes."
"I think I've met one or two before," Lydia mused, tapping her cheek in thought. "Doubtful," Asura shot back. "Not if you're tossing the word around that loosely." Lydia frowned. "What about possessions? We deal with those all the time." At that, Asura burst into laughter, his deep voice booming through the street and drawing startled glances from a few passersby. "Sure, some people might be possessed," he admitted, still chuckling. "But they could be demons… or they could just be shadows."
"Shadows?" Lydia asked, her gaze drifting to the towering buildings around them. "You ever seen an Observer?" Asura replied. She stiffened slightly. "You mean those creepy stalkers that hide in the shadows?" The ogre nodded. "Yeah. Everyone's got one watching them," he said, as if it were common knowledge. Lydia's expression darkened, but Asura continued. "Some of them go rogue—start whispering in their host's ear."
A fragmented memory tried to surface in his mind, pushing against the fog that trapped his mind. But the moment it neared clarity, a sharp pain shot through his skull, forcing it back into the abyss. He clenched his jaw, pushing past the discomfort. "Sure, they can influence people," he went on, his tone heavier now. "But humans? They love having something else to blame for their own grotesque desires. It's easier to say, 'the devil made me do it' than admit the truth—it was their own twisted mind all along."
Lydia fell silent. She had seen smoke, mana, or strange lights leave bodies during exorcisms, but sometimes, nothing ever emerged. The person simply changed, and whatever had been inside them was just gone. Before she could dwell too much on the implications, Asura cut into her thoughts. "How do you know where we're going? Aren't we supposed to be tracking quotidian mana? Where's your little orb buddy to lead us?" He asked curiously.
"Oh, I don't need one. I'm pretty good at detecting demonic mana. My blessing amps up my holy mana in the presence of demonic mana. It can be used as a radar and a steroid for my powers. I normally don't use a tracking incantation." She lifted her arms, watching her forearms for a spark of life. "Quotidian mana." He corrected, without even a thought.
Lydia paused, waiting for him to elaborate, yet the ogre walked by her side. "What's that?" She asked. "Monster mana," Asura curtly explained. "Everyone else calls it 'quotidian' because it's ordinary, unlike holy mana—which, by the way, only humans have. Just so you know." Lydia hummed in thought. Speaking of holy mana... If her powers were supposed to amplify in the presence of monsters, why wasn't she feeling that surge now?
Her eyes flicked to Asura, the four-armed ogre walking beside her. Every book she had ever read stated that ogres had incredibly dense mana—so why isn't my blessing reacting to him? "How come my blessing doesn't go off around you?" she asked.
Asura shrugged. "I don't have quotidian mana. Guess you can't power up from something that isn't there." Lydia blinked, processing his words.. "Wait, don't all monsters have dem— I mean, quotidian mana?" Her eyes opened bewildered. "Almost all," he corrected. "But not me. No idea why. I just wasn't made with any. Every other ogre has it, but for some reason, I don't. I'm just strong as shit and hard." Lydia let out an undignified snort, then immediately burst into laughter.
Asura tilted his head, perplexed. "What's so funny?" She waved him off, shaking her head as she tried to control herself. After a moment, she wiped a tear from her eye. "Nothing, nothing." Before Asura could question her further, a sharp, familiar scent cut through the city's overwhelming blend of sweat, pollution, and processed food. His muscles tensed.
Quotidian mana. It was faint, but it was here. His nostrils flared as he scanned the crowd, searching for the source, but the sheer number of people made it difficult to pinpoint. A few feet ahead, Lydia noticed he had fallen behind. She turned back to find him frozen in place, eyes narrowed, posture alert. "What's up?" Lydia asked, following his gaze.
"If I were a monster…" Asura started, but he didn't need to finish the thought. His gaze landed on a massive structure just down the road. A brightly lit sign loomed above its entrance: Stoliagate Mall. He pointed. "Something's going on in there."
Lydia raised an eyebrow, her expression doubtful. "What makes you say that?" she asked, her tone laced with skepticism. "I can smell it," he replied, his nose twitching as he caught the scent. "Are you sure it's not just the odor of people who never shower?" she countered, hands resting firmly on her hips. Before she could respond further, Asura stepped off the curb, stepping right into the street.
"Wait, what the hell—?!" Lydia reached out, but he was already crossing. Traffic laws be damned, Asura ignored the moving vehicles entirely. The nearby light turned green, and the moment cars started rolling forward, drivers were forced to slam on their brakes. Horns blared. "Get off the road, you lunatic!" The first driver screamed. He continued. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" A lady in a van pressed heavily on her horn. Yet, the ogre was fixed on his path. "Asshole!" A man leaned out of his car, shaking his fist.
But Asura was unfazed. He stepped into the final lane, where a yellow, lifted truck abruptly stopped. The driver threw his door open, fury written all over his face. Asura raised a brow, unimpressed. "Oh?" With a smirk, he pulled back his foot and kicked the front of the truck.
The massive vehicle lurched backward, slamming into the car behind it. The driver's anger melted into pure shock. His eyes widened, darting between the ogre and his now dented truck. "Sit your ass down. You ain't gonna do shit." He snarled, revealing his sharp teeth. The man took a step back as Asura threw up a middle finger before continuing across the street.
The surrounding drivers, once filled with road rage, sat frozen. No one dared to move. No one dared to follow. Lydia, stunned, chased after Asura. So this is what Mel meant when she warned me about him. As she caught up, her fingertips tingled. A spark of electricity flickered between them. Demonic mana. Her blessing was reacting. They were close.
Coming up beside Asura, she smirked. "You're pretty good at this," she admitted. "Maybe I'll try to steal you from Mel sometime." Asura grinned, standing a little taller at the praise. Just as they reached the entrance of the mall, Lydia suddenly stopped him, pressing a hand to his chest. "Hold up." She insisted.
Asura frowned, pausing as she spoke an incantation. "From the hands of the wicked, Judex Divinum shall deliver us. Through Michael are we hidden from evil's sight." Her mana surged upward, gathering at her throat. As she stood before him, the scent of sweat, hard work, and determination filled Asura's nostrils. "You smell nice," he commented, a subtle grin tugging at his lips.
Then, with no warning, she grabbed his shoulders, lowering herself and pulling his forehead toward her. The instant her lips brushed against his skin, a shiver ran through Asura. It felt as though his brain had been jolted, leaving him paralyzed. Lydia pulled away, but Asura just stood there, stunned. Slowly, he reached up, touching the spot where her lips had been, only to freeze when he saw his hands. Only two hands. "What the hell?" He gasped. His once charcoal-black skin had faded to a dark brown. His lower arms were… gone? No, they weren't gone. He could still feel them. But when he moved them, it looked like he was touching empty air.
Lydia crossed her arms. "Relax. They're still there. You just can't see them. It's an illusion. Makes it harder for whatever's inside to sense you. Also, y'know… stops people from freaking out." Asura flexed his invisible hands. "Weird…" The sensation was unsettling, like using limbs that weren't quite his own. "It's temporary," Lydia assured him. "Don't freak out."
Asura only nodded, but something about this illusion unsettled him. Ogres were designed to have four arms, a gift from their creator. Stripping them away, even if only visually, felt wrong.
A memory surfaced as he studied the wrinkles of his hands, unbidden. A battlefield. The weight of a trembling body in his arms. An ogre, weeping, grieving the three limbs they had lost. A cruel, pointless battle had taken them. And all Asura could do was hold them, comforting them through their sorrow. His hands curled into fists. "Now we're ready to enter." Lydia turned toward the door.
Asura snapped out of the long-forgotten memory. It faded, slipping away once again into the recesses of his mind. "What about you?" he asked, his voice low. "Won't they sense the holy mana?" Lydia shrugged, her gaze steady. "Nah. This place is flooded with holy mana. The cathedral here expels it like a blanket that covers the city." Asura raised an eyebrow. "How the hell does that work? Don't you guys have a limit on how much you can produce?"
"You'd be surprised how much mana an Arch Knight can generate," she replied, her eyes lighting up as she recalled the Archknights' incredible display of power. "We have a silver core that acts like a battery. We fill it up now and then, and it powers everything around us." Despite the vast size of the city that thinned the mana, Asura focused his senses, honing in until he could finally detect the faint, thin layer of mana coursing around him.
"Crazy," Asura muttered. "Time to go find the source of the mana," Lydia said, and they walked into the mall's entrance. Their investigation began immediately. As they stepped inside, they surveyed their surroundings, both of them scanning the scene for anything unusual. Holy crap, this place is massive, Asura murmured, his eyes wide. Stores stretched in every direction. The walls were lined with shops packed tightly together on both sides. If he didn't find what he needed down here, there were two more floors and possibly a fourth.
Is that a fourth floor? This place is huge! He marveled. Above, bridges connected each level, creating a web-like maze. Thousands of people walked along the passageways, entering and exiting stores without a care. "In the ogre realm, you don't have malls?" Lydia asked, glancing at him. "Nope," Asura replied. "We used to have tents, tons of them, but nothing like this."
They moved down the strip of stores, peering inside each one as they passed. There was no sign of any anomaly in the air, and the crowd moved with the usual bustle. Lydia crossed her arms, puzzled. The demonic presence wasn't growing stronger. Asura paused suddenly, his nose twitching. He sniffed the air like a bloodhound, his gaze scanning the space around them. "How strange..." He muttered. The scent of petrichor was faint but unmistakable. Lydia noticed the curious stares of bystanders as Asura continued to sniff around. With a sigh, she grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the crowd. "You can't just sniff around like that. You look like a deranged man."
"My bad." He recalled the illusion changing him. "Sorry. But I can smell it... it's here somewhere." The two of them continued, crossing an intersection of three new paths, all leading to a new strip of stores within the mall. Lydia started down one, but Asura stopped her, an ominous feeling creeping up his spine. Something wasn't right.
"I don't know," Asura muttered, his gaze narrowing. "It's the intersection. Feels off, but I can't place it." People walked around them, some shaking their heads as they tried to go down the left path, only to abruptly change direction, as if they'd been struck by a sudden impulse. Asura watched, puzzled, as more and more people did the same. Something about that left path was wrong.
He waited, observing the crowd's odd behavior. The entrance to the path shimmered strangely, like a projection, with a distorted ripple in the air. Yet, the people walking toward the intersection from the other side never crossed. Instead, they turned back, retracing their steps, heading back into the stores.
"What is it?" Lydia asked as she returned to his side. She had left, intending to follow another path, but realized Asura had not followed. Asura pointed to the left path, his voice low. "It's behind there." Lydia followed his gaze. "What makes you- Oh... strange." Her eyes watched as the image replayed like a video. She stepped toward the entrance, halting just a foot away.
With a swift motion, she extended her arm, and it vanished as it crossed the threshold. The air rippled around the point of contact, distorting like water. Lydia glanced back at Asura, beckoning him to follow, and then stepped through the illusionary barrier. The stench of blood and decay hit them instantly, a suffocating wave of death.
Lydia recoiled, her stomach churning. Before her lay a scene ripped from a nightmare. Corpses carpeted the walkway, a grotesque mosaic of tangled limbs and vacant eyes. Some were piled haphazardly, a gruesome heap of human wreckage. Others lay sprawled, their final moments frozen in contorted postures. The sheer number defied comprehension, and the blood, a crimson tide, pooled on the floor.
Lydia steeled herself and forced her gaze upwards. Hope flickered. Maybe there are survivors? But the sight that greeted her extinguished that flicker in an instant. More bodies were suspended from the upper levels, their limbs dangling like those of grotesque puppets. Blood rained down, a crimson deluge painting the scene below. "What a horrifying sight..." she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.
The rivers of blood continued their flow towards the center, converging to form a massive sphere, suspended in mid-air as if defying gravity. Beside this gruesome orb stood the Gorgon, her form slick with blood, the bandages still masking her monstrous visage. Sensing their presence, she turned, a cruel smile twisting her lips. "Welcome." She waved a hand, gesturing at the bloody scene. "Although... you're a little late."