Julius was walking behind the man, following him into the castle. From the outside, it looked quite impressive—built from dark stone and massive in scale. But there was no flag flying above it. It seemed the flag had been destroyed long ago, because at the top of the castle, a charred piece of cloth still clung to the flagpole.
In front of Julius stood a huge metal door, which opened automatically the moment the man stepped near it.
CREEAAAKKK
As the gate swung open, the first thing Julius noticed was the red carpet spread out across the stone floor. The walls and ceiling were also made of the same black stone, lined with numerous lanterns casting a dim glow.
Julius stepped inside—he was in a grand lobby.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"To see Lord Vermillion the Fourth."
Julius frowned, thinking, "Vermillion? That was Aurora's surname…."
He felt more confused by the minute.
At the end of the lobby, they came to three paths—one straight ahead with a staircase leading up to the first floor, and two halls branching left and right.
The man took the right corridor, and Julius followed, staying close behind.
This hall was very different—its design was almost sinister. Alongside the lanterns, countless skulls were mounted on the walls. Julius tried to identify which creatures they belonged to, but even though he had studied every creature documented of this game, none of them looked familiar.
At the end of the hall stood a large wooden door, though not as massive as the main entrance.
The man called out, his voice firm:
"Lord Marcus, I am Zhou Rui. I have brought the Programmer."
Julius thought wryly, "Zhou Rui? He doesn't look Chinese at all."
The door began to open.
CREEAAAKKK
Zhou Rui remained standing, waiting patiently for the door to swing fully wide.
Once it did, a figure emerged—a truly imposing presence.
He was clad head to toe in shining silver armor. His face was rugged and scarred, one eye completely destroyed, leaving a deep hollow. Even the left side bore multiple scars running down from his brow to his cheek.
Short brown hair framed his weathered features, and he wore no helmet for now. At his left hip, his sword hung sheathed. In his right hand, he held his helmet, resting it in the crook of his arm.
His eyes were a deep brown, and a short, rough beard covered his jaw. He looked to be in his mid-forties.
Zhou Rui immediately dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
"My greetings to you, Lord Marcus."
But Julius just stood there, hands casually in his pockets.
Zhou Rui hissed, "Kneel, Programmer."
Julius looked him in the eye.
"I refuse. I have no reason to kneel to someone I don't even know."
Zhou Rui's expression darkened with rage. He rose sharply, pulling back his fist to punch Julius full-force in the face. But Julius didn't flinch—he didn't even blink.
Zhou Rui's fist froze mere centimeters from his cheek.
Marcus spoke, his voice calm but commanding:
"Stop it, Rui. There is no reason to fight among ourselves."
Zhou Rui drew back slowly, glaring daggers at Julius.
"You are only alive because of my lord," he spat. "If he hadn't stopped me, I would have ended you right here."
Julius smirked, a taunting edge to his voice.
"Such confidence. Or maybe…just overconfidence. And overconfidence isn't very good for your health, Zhou Rui."
Zhou Rui clenched his teeth, absolutely furious.
"What did you just say!?"
Marcus raised a hand.
"Enough. Both of you. Mr. Programmer…you do understand your position here, don't you?"
"No, I don't. And do you want to know why? Because you people brought me here without my damn permission—and then you tell me to kneel before someone I've never even met."
"Very well, Mr. Programmer. May I know your name?"
"Airu. Airu Koruto."
"I meant…your real name."
Julius's eyes widened in shock as he thought, "Huh? These NPCs…they weren't programmed to understand that this place is only a game. How the hell did they figure it out?"
He demanded, "What do you mean?"
Marcus answered calmly, "We know that we're all inside a game. And if we didn't know that, why do you think we'd be calling you 'Programmer'? Because of the freedom you and your people gave us, we've managed to identify most things about this world. And the questions we still have…you will answer them, Airu Koruto."
Julius let out a small smile and said, "Very well. Julius Marcellus."
Marcus tilted his head slightly.
"'Julius'? That's quite a unique name."
Julius shrugged and smiled.
"Thanks."
At that moment, Zhou Rui interjected, his tone formal.
"I am sorry to interrupt your conversation, Lord Marcus. But I believe Lord Vermillion the Fourth is still waiting for us inside."
Zhou Rui's head and eyes were respectfully lowered as he spoke.
Marcus smiled faintly and replied,
"Yes, you're right, Rui. Well then—Airu, come in. Lord Vermillion the Fourth wishes to meet you."
Julius let out a tired sigh.
"Am I famous in this world or something? Well then…okay."
Julius stepped into the room—or rather, what should have been called a room, though it was no smaller than a grand banquet hall. Both his hands were tucked casually into his pockets.
Inside, it had the imposing atmosphere of a vast ceremonial chamber. Lanterns flickered along the black stone walls, casting long shadows over countless skulls mounted as trophies. A rich red carpet stretched across the floor, leading all the way to the throne at the far end.
But the strangest detail was something he had never seen before. In each of the four corners stood an enormous glass tube filled with some thick, red liquid that looked disturbingly like blood.
Directly ahead of the entrance, a throne sat raised above the hall. It was a grand seat forged from what looked like polished silver crystal, draped in a crimson cloth. And there, lounging as if he had been waiting for hours, was the man himself.
A golden crown rested on his head. He wore a long blue fur-lined cloak over a deep red coat styled almost like a chef's uniform, though far more elegant. One powerful, muscular arm lay draped over the armrest while his other fist pressed against his cheek, propping his head up in a posture both casual and regal. His legs were crossed in a gesture of absolute confidence.
His hair was a striking, deep crimson, grown long enough to brush the tops of his shoulders when left loose. Most of it was gathered into a low, careless knot at the nape of his neck—a kind of effortless man bun that looked both deliberate and wild.
Yet it was the strands that had slipped free that drew the eye: they fell in soft, uneven curtains across his face, framing sharp features with a feral grace. Those parted bangs hung past his cheekbones, swaying as he moved, hinting at a quiet defiance.
It was the hair of a man who had no interest in taming himself—only in keeping it out of his eyes long enough to see what needed to be done. Combined with the restless glint in his red eyes, it gave him the look of a battle-hardened warrior too weary for vanity, yet too proud to cut it short.
He looked no older than his early thirties, but there was a weight in his gaze that suggested he had seen far more than any ordinary man.
When his eyes settled on Julius, a faint smile tugged at his mouth. Without shifting from his relaxed pose, he spoke in a deep, calm voice.
"Welcome, Programmer."
Julius just lifted his chin a little and said in a casual tone,
"Yo. Vermillion the Fourth."
Everyone else in the hall—Marcus, Zhou Rui, and the gathered attendants—visibly stiffened in shock.
This was the first time anyone had ever spoken to Vermillion IV so informally…let alone greeted him as if he were just some old acquaintance.