The Abyss, Layer 6,548,257 — the main city of the Lava Wasteland: Ashkarath.
As a city that controlled various teleportation capabilities within the region, only a few locations in Ashkarath were connected to external space-time realms.
These locations included the teleportation arrays and the spots where demons would return from other worlds.
Following the pull of his own soul mark, Orsaga stepped out of the teleportation circle.
No sooner had he emerged than he saw someone standing there, staring at him with eager eyes and a hopeful expression.
Tilting his head, Orsaga looked at the figure—who stood noticeably shorter than him—and asked with some curiosity, "What are you up to?"
Sensing the dense aura of Infernal blood flowing through Orsaga, the creature—giant-like in the upper body and tentacled like an octopus below—rubbed his hands nervously and said, "My lord, I'm a member of the Chloroya merchant guild. Our group recently discovered a highly valuable alternate world. However, due to limited power on our part, we're currently recruiting allies for a joint development effort. Would you be interested?"
In the Abyss, besides demons—who were naturally inclined toward destruction—many beings from other worlds also had an interest in alternate dimensions.
After all, if there were profits to be made, they weren't any less ruthless than demons.
In fact, unlike demons who favored wholesale slaughter, outsiders often employed more elaborate methods—such as rounding up the local natives and raising them like livestock in centralized breeding operations, developing sustainable "farming" ventures.
Many of the steady sources of soul crystals in the Abyss came from such arrangements.
However, due to the inferior quality of raw materials, these setups typically produced only the lowest-grade soul crystals. Higher-grade soul crystals required more elaborate and complex procedures.
For example, by fabricating all manner of lies to inspire the natives to train hard and grow stronger—waiting until they ascended, broke through limits, or transcended their world—only then harvesting them after their bodies and souls had undergone a transformation.
To put it bluntly, that process could be likened to the final stage of raising livestock before slaughter.
In essence, there was little difference from modern livestock farming.
Basic farms would pen the animals together, feed and clean them regularly, maybe administer some medicine now and then.
Advanced farms, on the other hand, would go further—playing music or videos, giving massages, even taking the animals out for walks—all in the name of improving the quality of the final product.
After thinking it over while stroking his chin, Orsaga found himself a little intrigued. "What's the basic situation of that world?"
Seeing that Orsaga was taking an interest, the other being's eyes lit up as he eagerly replied, "The native forces in that world aren't particularly strong—mostly practitioners of magical systems. The world's capacity ceiling is about equivalent to Greater-Rank Demon level, and most intelligent beings are mortal species. Their total population is around 50 billion."
Hearing that, Orsaga nodded in satisfaction.
If there were around 50 billion intelligent beings, then including the beasts and magical creatures, the total lifeform count likely ran into the trillions.
Not a bad haul at all.
As for how much of that haul he'd get, Orsaga didn't bother to ask—because such matters were always settled by strength.
So he asked instead, "When are you making your move?"
"Our guild's plan is to recruit five Greater-Rank Demons to participate. Fewer wouldn't be secure enough; more would mean too little profit to go around. So we'll be selecting only the most powerful five from those who accept our invitation to sign an Abyssal contract. That meeting will happen in a few days."
After explaining all this, the creature quickly added a flattering remark, not wanting to seem disrespectful. "Of course, I believe such a minor challenge is nothing at all for someone of your strength, my lord."
Then he hurriedly handed over a token. "If you wish to join, just hold onto this. We'll send word through it in a few days."
Orsaga took the token, gave it a casual toss in his hand, then tucked it away and turned to leave without another word.
In the Abyss, there were plenty of species more agreeable than demons.
There were also no shortage of beings with power equivalent to Greater-Rank Demons. Yet despite that, the guild had specifically chosen demons for this operation.
Unless it was part of some hidden scheme, the most likely explanation was that they wanted the innate demon ability—Demonic Summoning.
After all, if several Greater-Rank Demons cast Demonic Summoning together, they could easily assemble a makeshift demon army.
Aside from the fact that summoned demons didn't always obey orders, the technique had few major drawbacks.
In other words, it made for excellent cannon fodder.
Of course, that was of little use to someone like Orsaga.
Thanks to his unique talent for greatly reducing planar suppression and quickly adapting to foreign realms, summoning those creatures would do nothing but draw extra aggro.
If he could already defeat the enemy on his own, bringing them along was pointless. If he couldn't, then they'd just get obliterated by the shockwaves.
But for the vast majority of higher-level demons, Demonic Summoning was a crucial ability—allowing them to summon sacrificial pawns to draw fire. Once a demon formed its own personal legion, it could even switch from random to targeted summoning—summoning elite troops anywhere in any world, vastly enhancing the spell's effectiveness.
This was also one of the main reasons the demon race's reputation was so universally reviled.
Sometimes, the arrival of a single demon was merely the herald—its army would soon follow.
As he walked down the street, Orsaga looked around at the passersby.
Suddenly, his expression shifted.
With a loud smack, he slapped the back of someone's head!
A look of revelation crossed his face.
He'd just remembered something important.
Because of that interruption earlier, Orsaga had completely forgotten one of his long-held traditions.
Without hesitation, his tail shot forward—piercing the unfortunate bystander who had just been slapped and was now standing there with a confused expression!
"Back home again. How could I not celebrate with a few kills? This just doesn't feel festive at all…"
Ever since his first time traveling between worlds, Orsaga had made it a habit to kill a few random civilians upon return, as a way of celebrating.
Who would've thought he'd forget such an important ritual this time?
And so, Orsaga began randomly selecting "lucky" citizens… and beating them to death.
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T/N:
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