The light of the teleportation magic dissipated in the morning light.
Higashino Makoto stood on a small hill, his long, silvery-white hair fluttering in the wind, his dark robe billowing in the air.
Kurumi stood half a step behind him, with the black cat "Zafkiel" perched on her shoulder, its golden eyes gazing ahead and its tail taut.
Ahead lay a city ablaze.
No, it's not burning, it's already burned out.
Most of the city wall has collapsed, and stones are scattered in the moat, turning the water a murky gray-black.
The city gate was smashed by some enormous force, and wood chips and iron fragments were scattered on the main road leading into the city, like toys crushed by a giant.
Thick smoke rose from every corner of the city, black, gray, and white, intertwining to form a huge, slowly rolling dark cloud in the sky.
The air was filled with the smells of burning, blood, and a deeper, instinctively unsettling sweetness.
That's the smell of burnt human flesh.
Higashino Makoto stood there, motionless.
His eyes swept across the ruins, the collapsed houses, and the debris scattered in the streets.
It's not a corpse.
It's fragments.
Those humans who were slaughtered, devoured, and torn apart by the Orc can no longer be called corpses.
They were just remains—unrecognizable things that had once been human, scattered in pools of blood.
Kurumi's right eye narrowed slightly, and the smile on her lips disappeared.
The black cat "Zafkiel" jumped off her shoulder and landed on the ground, its golden eyes gazing at the city, its tail drooping.
"Grown ups."
Kurumi's voice was very soft.
We're too late.
Higashino Makoto did not answer.
He strode forward, descended the hill, and headed towards the city.
His pace was neither fast nor slow, just like Peace, as if he were taking a stroll in his own Garden.
But Kurumi noticed that his fingers were slightly curled up at his side, then relaxed, then curled up again.
That was a movement she had never seen before.
At the city's entrance, a stone monument lies askew by the roadside. The city's name is inscribed on the monument, but the characters are covered in blood and illegible.
Higashino Makoto stopped and looked down at the stone tablet, remaining silent for a moment.
Then he looked up and gazed into the depths of the city.
There, amidst the ruins and thick smoke, atop the scattered remains, the Orc were reveling.
Thousands--
No, tens of thousands of Orc gathered in the ruins of the city.
Some were gnawing on corpses, some were fighting over spoils, some were burning houses, and some were chasing after the still-living humans.
Orc, Troll, Gnoll, Orc... warriors of all kinds of Orc races mingled together, emitting noisy, piercing howls like wild beasts.
Higashino Makoto looked at them, his dark eyes devoid of any emotion.
Kurumi.
"Exist."
You stay here.
"Grown ups--"
"That's an order."
Kurumi paused for a moment, then bowed slightly.
"Yes, sir."
Higashino Makoto strode forward and entered the city.
The Orc noticed him.
An Orc was gnawing on an arm looked up and stared with murky eyes at the black-haired man emerging from the thick smoke.
It paused for a moment, then grinned, revealing a row of sharp teeth stained with blood and flesh.
"Humans -- Fresh Humans --"
It dropped the arm it was holding, stood up, and pounced on Higashino Makoto.
Higashino Makoto didn't look at it.
He just kept walking forward.
When the Orc rushed to within three steps of him, his body suddenly froze.
It wasn't bound by magic, nor controlled by skills; it was simply unable to move forward any further.
An invisible force emanated from Higashino Makoto, pressing down on him as if it were a tangible force.
It was a pure sense of presence that arose from the ultimate crushing of hierarchy.
The Orc's eyes widened, his pupils reflecting the figure of the silver-haired man, drawing ever closer.
Then, it heard a sound.
"The Wrath of the Salt King"
Higashino Makoto's voice was not loud; in fact, it could be described as calm.
But the moment that voice reached the Orc's ears, its soul seemed to be seized by something.
The sky changed color.
It turned the color of sulfur.
A blinding, unsettling, hellfire-like yellow-green light poured down from the sky, engulfing the entire city.
The Orc were about to enter the city to enjoy a delicious meal, looked up at the sky that had changed color, their eyes filled with confusion and fear.
Then, the fire broke out.
This is not an ordinary fire.
Instead, it was a white, fiery light, like the surface of the sun.
It fell from the sky, landing among the Orc, on the ruins, on the tents Orc had brought, and on its main target—
In the Orc army camp.
Higashino Makoto did not use magic on the city, after all, there might still be survivors inside.
Therefore, the chosen target was the Orc military camp.
There might be Orc among them who haven't yet eaten humans, or perhaps some are just weak Orc poor people.
However, Higashino Makoto was too lazy to argue.
He needed to vent his anger.
His murderous intent needed to burn.
There was no explosion.
There was no roar.
Only burning.
The Orc didn't even have time to scream.
The moment the white flames touched them, their bodies melted like candles.
It doesn't burn to ash, it melts.
Skin, muscles, bones, internal organs—everything was liquefied in the white flames, then evaporated, and then disappeared.
But that's not all there is to "The Wrath of the Salt King".
For those Orc were further away and not directly engulfed by the white flames.
Another power has arrived.
Their limbs began to stiffen, their skin began to turn white, and their joints began to solidify.
They wanted to escape, but found their legs were too stiff to bend.
They wanted to cry out, but found their tongues had turned to stone.
Salt.
They are turning into salt.
Starting from the fingertips, moving to the palms, to the arms, to the torso, and to the head.
Within seconds, the entire body was covered in white crystals, then solidified, and then turned into columns of salt.
The Orc's howls, screams, and pleas for mercy all vanished within seconds.
The flames accumulated, eventually transforming into scalding magma that erupted from the ground.
The enormous pillar of lava rises over a thousand meters high, and the intense heat seems to emanate from it throughout the entire northwest corner.
Within a ten-kilometer radius of the Orc camp, all was quiet.
Only boiling lava remained, along with the vast amount of surrounding...
A column of pure white salt.
Higashino Makoto stood on the ruined city wall, his long black hair fluttering in the white flames, his dark robe unstained by a single drop of blood.
He looked up at the sky, which had returned to its normal color, and remained silent for a moment.
Then he raised his right hand.
"Summon-- the Dominion Authority."
A radiance gathered before him. It was not the golden, warm light from before, but a white, cold light, like moonlight.
Twelve figures emerged from the light.
They are about three meters tall, with human-like bodies, but no faces.
Its head is a smooth, mirror-like surface. Six wings spread out behind it, with pure white feathers and faint blue edges.
They wore armor formed from condensed light and held scepters formed from condensed light in their hands.