Journey to Planar World

The Kaois Desert, more commonly known as the Great Sand Sea, stretches far across the southwest of the continent’s center. This desolate region is separated by the flow of the Nile River, which is the only source of life amidst the harsh environment. While not a welcoming place to live, it doesn’t mean there are no signs of life—or more accurately, the decay of humanity.

”So, the Kaois Desert at night is also very cold. The laws of nature are no different from Earth in my previous life.”

Charlie floated two hundred meters above the ground, watching the sand dunes that looked like mini-mountains stretch endlessly. Under the pollution-free moonlight and sparkling stars, the expanse of sand looked magnificent but also held a bone-chilling cold.

”According to the map, the Kaois Desert is twice the size of the Sahara Desert. Is this planet bigger than Earth? I’ll verify it another time. The top priority right now is to find the Whiro Familia headquarters!”

Recalling the information he had managed to extract from Arlo, Charlie matched the map to his current location.

*SWISH!*

With a quick, silent movement, he flew across the night sky, leaving no trace other than a fleeting shadow that anyone who happened to look up might mistake for a bird.

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A small, nameless town, more resembling a squalid camp than a settlement, was hidden among the sand dunes. Thin smoke billowed from several bonfires, and raucous sounds broke the silence of the night. Evilus, a group of psychopaths who crave chaos, had made this place their den. The town was crudely built, with tattered tents and dilapidated wooden buildings that were on the verge of collapsing. The stench of cheap liquor, sweat, and something fouler—despair—filled the air.

Most striking were the large iron cages located in the center of the ’town.’ Inside them, dozens of young men and women were held captive. They all had one thing in common: they were unclothed and had handsome or beautiful faces, proof that they were the result of kidnappings from nearby villages to be used as pleasure slaves and targets for torture. Their eyes were empty, filled with fear, or had already surrendered to the terrible fate that awaited them.

The atmosphere tonight was particularly festive. A group of Evilus, their faces flushed from drunkenness, gathered around a tent that served as a ’bar.’ The bar owner—a middle-aged man kidnapped from a village on the bank of the Nile River—had a pale face and trembling hands as he poured liquor for his emotionally unstable customers. One small mistake, even a single drop spilled, could result in a knife plunging into his neck.

In another corner, a fat, ugly man brutally dragged a young woman from inside a cage. The woman’s screams and cries were ignored, even laughed at by the others. In public, on the cold sand, the man brutally defiled her, under the horrified stares and tears of the other prisoners who could do nothing.

Not far from there, another equally barbaric scene was taking place. A skinny man with an insane, wide grin grabbed a sturdy male slave. He forcibly crucified the victim’s hands to a wooden pole. Then, theatrically, he covered his eyes with a piece of cloth.

”The bet is five valis! If I hit, you pay!” he yelled at his companions who had surrounded him, cheering and laughing boisterously.

He took a knife from his waist, aimed carelessly, and threw it towards the unfortunate man who was tied up.

*SWOOSH!* *SWOOSH!* *SWOOSH!*

The knife missed, only grazing his arm and causing blood to flow. The victim’s scream of pain was met with even more cheers and laughter. The skinny man laughed the loudest, taking another knife for his next throw, while the victim shivered in fear, awaiting the next torment that might be more accurate.

This was the picture of that small, nameless town: a stage where conscience had died, replaced by the wildest desires, violence, and uncontrolled madness. Every corner was filled with twisted laughter, screams of pain, and wails of despair.

Sitting on a throne made of morbidly arranged human bones, Whiro leaned back comfortably. The Main God of the Whiro Familia had a handsome face, with a faint smile always on his lips. His dark gray eyes watched with satisfaction as his children—the members of his Familia—spread terror and perverted pleasure in the small town.

”Ah, I never get tired of watching the depravity of the residents of the Lower World. They always manage to entertain me.”

Whiro let out a satisfied sigh, like an art lover admiring a masterpiece.

”Truly, the gods in Orario are just playing house compared to me. They pretend to be heroes, save the weak, build harmonious families... It’s all so boring and hypocritical.” He said with a contemptuous sneer. ”They create rules, build the Guild, as if they are building a civilization. Yet, we all know, fundamentally, every god craves relationships to alleviate our boredom.”

His smile widened, his eyes glinting as he watched one of his members throw another knife at the tied-up male slave, this time hitting his thigh and being met with cheers.

”They are afraid of the truth we live. They are afraid to admit that true pleasure is not in order, but in chaos. Not in creation, but in destruction. There is a pure beauty in hearing the screams of the helpless, in watching the light of hope extinguish from their arrogant eyes.”

”They call us evil. They call us Evilus. But we are just being honest with ourselves. We acknowledge the deepest desires they hide. We are a mirror of their own darkness, and that’s why they hate us.”

Whiro leaned back on his terrifying throne, savoring every detail of the suffering below him.

”Chaos is not a flaw... it is an art. And we are the true artists. Let Orario have its towers and luxury. We have the truth. And in the end, our truth will drown their fragile and hypocritical world in the most beautiful darkness.”

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Not far from the terrifying bone throne, inside a crowded iron cage, a group of young girls shivered in fear and cold. Among them, a fifteen-year-old girl with long black hair that was likely once perfectly maintained, was now tangled and full of sand. Her eyes, which might have usually sparkled with teenage cheerfulness, now glared with hatred and despair as she listened to Whiro’s twisted words.

(Am I going to end up as a slave and become a man’s plaything? I should have listened to my parents’ advice and not left.)

She was the daughter of a nobleman from a small country outside Orario. Her protected and luxurious life changed drastically after a certain encounter. In the past, an adventurer from Orario saved her from a group of bandits. Since then, it had been her dream to become an adventurer like her savior—or at least see the legendary Orario. Ignoring her parents’ advice, she started her journey to Orario to become an adventurer.

However, her adventure ended before it truly began. The Evilus group ambushed the caravan she was traveling in. All her guards were slaughtered, and she and the other captives were brought to this hell. Her beautiful clothes, her small weapon, even the light armor her mother gave her—everything was stripped away.

Now, she was naked like an animal, her dignity and self-respect trampled upon. In the eyes of the Evilus, she was no longer a human, but a commodity, a piece of merchandise to be sold to the highest bidder.

(Isn’t there a hero who will save us like in the stories in the books?)

She looked at the star-studded night sky, as if hoping for an answer. But after four days full of torture and humiliation with no sign of help, her hope was almost gone. Her only ’luck’ was that she was still pure. They had a high resale value. Her virginity was the only shield she had left, a sad paradox.

”If we’re so valuable, at least give us blankets.” She complained, shivering, trying to protect her white and smooth body from the bone-chilling desert night wind.

Her still-developing breasts swayed every time she moved, making her feel even more ashamed and helpless. She huddled among the other girls, trying to find warmth that never came.

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High above, in the sky the girl was watching so desperately, Charlie floated in the air. His eyes were filled with a burning murderous intent. The barbaric scene below was an insult to the idealism he once upheld.

However, anger did not make him reckless. His Six Eyes scanned every living creature below him. He couldn’t see a person’s Level, but his Six Eyes gave him a very accurate picture of a person’s strength based on the amount and density of the energy circulating in their bodies.

”One, two... Level 4. That’s the highest.” Charlie muttered. ”A Level high enough to be outside Orario. Maybe that person secretly infiltrated the city to enter the Dungeon and collect Excelia? Or maybe they have another method. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the fact that they’re all going to die tonight.”

Even if there were a Level 6 in this Whiro Familia headquarters, Charlie would still attack. His confidence in his abilities gave him the self-assurance. And the reality was, all his enemies below were far weaker than him.