Guest Appearance

The valley returned to silence.

The smoke and dust slowly settled, revealing a neatly shaped depression in the ground, and in the center of the depression lay the Melancholy Demon Hector, his clothes tattered.

Lowell stood at the edge of the pit, looking down at his right hand. The skin at his knuckles was broken, oozing a few streaks of dark purple blood, but it quickly healed completely in the faint glow of magic. He shook his hand and moved his neck, making a series of soft "crack" sounds.

Then he jumped into the pit and went to Hector's side.

Hector was still lying down, his long, brown braid disheveled and covered in sand. His shoulders twitched slightly, as if he wanted to prop himself up. Lowell didn't give him the chance, raising his right foot and pressing the sole of his shoe against the back of Hector's neck, slowly pressing down.

"Ugh...!"

Hector's face was forced into the ground, and he let out a muffled groan. He scratched at the ground in vain with his hands, his fingertips digging into the sand and gravel.

Lowell bent down, grabbed the back of Hector's head by the hair with his left hand, and pulled him up forcefully, forcing him to tilt his head back. Hector's dark circles under his eyes became more pronounced, his mouth was cracked, and blood streamed down half of his face from his nose. He half-opened his eyes, his dark pupils rolling upwards, trying to see who was stepping on him.

"You... bastard..."

Lowell didn't speak. He loosened his hair, clenched his right fist, and delivered a clean, powerful uppercut to Hector's jaw.

"Bang!"

A dull thud. Hector's head snapped back, his neck arching unnaturally. Several bloody teeth, mixed with saliva, flew out and landed on the sand a short distance away.

Lowell didn't stop. He released his foot, and the instant Hector leaned back and lost his balance, his left hand reached out and precisely grabbed the other's throat, his five fingers tightening, lifting him up from the spot. Hector's feet left the ground, his throat bones making a soft "clunking" sound between his fingers as he struggled to breathe, his face quickly turning red and then purple.

"Melancholy, is it?"

His right fist swung 360 degrees in mid-air, drawing a full and beautiful arc, and slammed hard into the opponent's abdomen.

"A demon, is it?"

His right fist swung out again, slamming into Hector's left cheek. The sensation of his cheekbone shattering was clearly felt.

"You! Melancholy! Right! Me..."

He cursed under his breath, pulled his right fist back, then swung it out again, this time at the right cheek.

"... I'm out of words, I just want to fight!"

Another punch landed squarely on the bridge of his nose. The sound of the cartilage collapsing.

"You bastard."

He cursed as he swung his right fist repeatedly. There was no technique, no build-up, just the simplest and most direct beatings. Each punch landed squarely, the muffled thuds echoing monotonously in the silent valley. Hector's body swayed in his hand like a broken sandbag, initially twitching and struggling instinctively, but later only unconscious trembling remained.

Lowell fought for a while, then suddenly stopped. He took a slight breath, the pair of Demons horns on his forehead gleaming with a cold, eerie light in the sunlight. He stared at Hector's face, which was swollen beyond recognition and covered in blood and gore, for two seconds, then shook his head.

"Thank you so much."

He said it with a strange, almost sincere tone.

"Whenever I lose control of my emotions, I can't calm down without venting like this. Yeah."

He nodded, as if confirming something.

"Thank you. Even though you're trash--"

He swung his right fist again, striking Hector in the stomach. Hector's body arched violently, and he forced a dry heave from deep in his throat, but nothing came out.

"--She's also very ugly."

The last comment floated down his throat, and he delivered another punch, landing squarely on the ribs. The sound of bone cracking was clear.

Hector was held in mid-air by the neck, his head drooping limply, blood and saliva dripping from it. His half-open eyes struggled to roll upwards, his unfocused pupils straining to focus on Lowell, then slowly, with immense difficulty, turned to the side—

At the edge of the valley, Capella and Pandora stood quietly.

Capella crossed her arms, tilted her head, and wore an uncomfortably sweet smile, as if she were admiring some amusing toy. Her red eyes were filled with the fascination of watching a spectacle. Pandora, on the other hand, stood ramrod straight, her platinum blonde hair motionless in the wind. Her deep blue eyes calmly watched them, her face expressionless, as if what was happening before her was not a one-sided beating, but a spectacle unrelated to her.

Hector made a gurgling sound in his throat, as if he wanted to say something.

Lowell followed his gaze and glanced in that direction as well.

"No..."

Hector finally managed to squeeze out a few words, broken, leaky, and laced with blood and foam.

"Even so... why... did you only hit me... and not... the other two...?"

With each word he uttered, his throat was rubbed against Lowell's fingers, the pain distorting his voice.

Lowell turned his head and looked intently at Capella, then at Pandora. Then he turned back and gave Hector a wry smile.

"Can I take down those two?"

His tone was matter-of-fact.

"One that's practically invincible."

He gestured with his chin towards Capella.

"It keeps changing even after you've smashed it to pieces, it's endless, it's annoying to watch. And—" He paused, "Beating up someone who looks like a little girl, even if you know she's just a lump of rotten flesh inside, it still feels a bit degrading."

He then looked at Pandora.

"There's another one I can't kill either. And it doesn't look realistic, so there's no point in hitting it. Besides, beating up a ten-year-old little girl, even if I knew she was an old monster, the image wouldn't be good for my reputation if it got out. Such a small skeleton, there's no positive feedback when you hit it, it's pointless."

His gaze returned to Hector's face, and his fingers tightened even more, almost making his throat bone deform in his palm.

"You."

He summarized, his voice carrying a hint of disdain, but more so a sense of nonchalance that "your feel is the most suitable."

"It looks tough and can take a beating. It will react when hit, it will bleed, and its broken bones won't heal on their own immediately. It feels solid to hit, although it's a bit hard."

Hector struggled to lift his swollen eyelids, his dark eyes fixed on Lowell, filled with a mixture of excruciating pain, humiliation, and an absurd, almost bewildered disbelief.

"You fucking... this isn't..."

He made two hoarse sounds in his throat before squeezing out the second half of the sentence.

"... Are you bullying honest people...?"

Lowell didn't even flinch. He released his left hand from Hector's neck, and almost simultaneously, his right fist surged from his waist, twisting his waist and thrusting his shoulder forward, delivering a simple yet powerful punch that landed squarely on the center of Hector's face.

"Bang--!"

With a heavy thud, Hector was sent flying backward, tracing a brief parabola before crashing heavily onto the sand a few meters away. He rolled twice before lying face down, motionless. A small, dark, damp patch slowly spread beneath him.

Lowell withdrew his fist and blew away imaginary dust. He looked down at the small wound on his knuckles that had reopened and quickly healed, then looked up at his two "companions" who had stood by and watched the entire time at the edge of the valley.

"How?"

He asked, his voice returning to its usual calm, even carrying a hint of casual conversation.

"You two have been watching the show the whole time, aren't you? Are you here for a picnic? I'm reporting you for being AFK, okay?"

He gestured with his chin toward Hector, who lay unconscious on the ground.

"Aren't you going to help? Huh? Your teamwork is so superficial."

Capella burst out laughing. Her shoulders shook as she laughed, and she raised her hand to cover her mouth, her red eyes filled with undisguised malice and mockery.

"Save him? Why? He's just a piece of trash... He's useless, getting beaten up like a punching bag, what does it have to do with me?"

She tilted her head and continued speaking in that cloyingly sweet yet grating voice.

"Besides, watching your face, twisted with anger and helplessness, was much more interesting than saving that useless piece of trash~ It's just a pity that you seem to have calmed down now, you piece of trash~ Your expression isn't as interesting anymore, it's not exciting enough."

Lowell ignored her and turned his gaze to Pandora.

Pandora stood quietly. The wind ruffled the ends of her platinum blonde hair. She raised her hand and gently tucked a stray strand behind her ear with graceful ease. Then, she tilted her head slightly, her deep blue eyes meeting Lowell's gaze.

"Hehe..."

She chuckled softly, her voice ethereal and melodious, echoing subtly in the valley.

"I don't know why, but you seem to know us very well..."

She paused, her gaze sweeping over Lowell's forehead before returning to his face.

"But those few moves we exchanged earlier really surprised me."

She raised her right hand, her slender fingers lightly touching Lowell, then pointing to the unconscious Hector on the ground, and further away to the long-dead dragon embedded in the rock wall.

"Single-handedly, in that emotional state, withstood Hector's power suppression, instantly severely injured Capella, and still accurately saw through and seized upon Hector's weaknesses... This power, this combat intuition, and this almost terrifying regenerative ability..."

She shook her head, a perfectly balanced expression of admiration and regret on her face.

"I'm no match for you."

Lowell crossed his arms, leaned back slightly, and gave a "Are you done?" look.

"So? Enough with the jokes? Tell me, what's your purpose?"

He gestured with his chin toward Hector and Capella.

"Bringing these two... well, 'talents' all the way here to stage an accident with me, just to get beaten up and say a few polite words? Let me tell you, it's only because I have a good temper that I'm not angry. If it were someone with a short temper... hey... I still couldn't do anything to you, but I could at least yell at you a couple of times."

He took two steps forward and stopped about ten meters away from Pandora and Capella. This distance was neither too close nor too far, allowing him to see their expressions clearly while also giving them enough room to react.

"Forget about the others. I was a bit emotional and confused just now, I didn't have time to think about it carefully."

He raised his hand, his index finger touching Pandora, Capella, and finally landing on Hector on the ground.

"But now... if you calm down and think about it a bit, the aura emanating from you guys isn't that of 'living people,' right?"

The valley fell silent for a moment.

Capella's smile faded slightly, and his red pupils narrowed a little.

Pandora blinked gently, a subtle, almost pleasurable flicker of light passing through her deep blue eyes.

"Ara..."

She drew out the melody, her voice still soft.

That's really surprising.

She tilted her head slightly, as if admiring an unexpected work of art.

"Hehe... that's true. But--"

Her tone suddenly changed.

"If you want to know why, it seems a little inappropriate for me to explain, Your Demon King."

She used the title "Your Majesty the Demon King," in a polite tone, but with a deliberate sense of distance and a deeper implication.

Lowell frowned slightly, but did not interrupt.

Pandora raised her hand, her slender index finger pointing far north—towards the Demon King's Castle, the direction of Ende.

"Go to Ende. Someone there will tell you the answer."

After she finished speaking, her gaze lingered on Lowell's face for a moment, then she nodded slightly, as if bidding farewell.

"Now we'll..."

"Wait! Wait for me!"

Lowell interrupted her.

"You think you can just leave like that? Isn't the process a bit too simplistic? You think you can just show off and run away?"

Pandora looked at him, the corners of her mouth curving upwards in an almost ethereal arc.

"Hehe... Sorry to bother you."

Her voice became softer and more ethereal, as if it came from a great distance, yet it resonated clearly in everyone's ears.

"But it was just a little joke."

She raised her hands, gently clasped them together in front of her chest, and then slowly separated them to the sides, like an elegant dancer taking her bow.

"We've never been here before; we've just been at home. Today is just an ordinary day."

As her last syllable faded—

Beside her, Capella's figure began to "fade" first. Not disappear, but like an oil painting soaked in water, the colors quickly blurred and faded, along with that cloyingly malicious smile, red pupils, and the strange bulge on her waist, all melting into the air without leaving a trace.

Next, it was Pandora herself. Her long platinum blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and simple white dress vanished silently, like snow melting in the sunlight. She glanced at Lowell one last time, her gaze calm as ever, before disappearing completely.

Finally, there was Hector lying unconscious on the ground. His body, his tattered clothes, and the dark bloodstain beneath him, like pencil marks erased by an eraser, rapidly became transparent and thin from the edges, eventually disappearing completely.

Lowell was the only one left in the valley.

The dragon's corpse on the distant rock face, and the shallow crater in the ground formed by the previous battle and the crushing force of gravity, proved that what had just happened was not an illusion.

The wind blew from the north, sweeping across the empty valley, stirring up dust and making a soft whistling sound.

Lowell stood still, without moving.

A few withered leaves, swirling in the wind, drifted past him.

"... Ende, ha."

He repeated the familiar place name to himself in a low voice, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Then, he turned around, started walking, and headed towards the Imperial Capital at a leisurely pace.

The soles of the boots stomped over the sand and gravel, making a monotonous "rustling" sound.

"Alright."