Martin was a Incubus Lord.
So when it came to all things mysterious, he always maintained a healthy degree of skepticism.
After all, on the Continent of Gods and Demons, many so-called "mystical phenomena" were common occurrences. Things that would seem divine and miraculous in this world—Martin had seen plenty of them.
Who was to say that similar things hadn't once existed on Earth?
Or perhaps still did?
That said, Martin held little reverence for the supernatural.
He'd simply seen too much.
In fact, if he ever revealed his full power to the world, he wasn't sure if people would worship him as a god... or hunt him down as a monster.
He chuckled softly to himself. Most likely the latter.
After all, his power hadn't yet reached the level of shrugging off nuclear warheads or destroying mountains with a wave of his hand—the kind of power that truly drives humanity to despair.
His physical form still placed limits on him. No matter how much magic he infused into it, it was, at its core, still a human body.
Which was why Martin always maintained his disguise as a humble "consultant," occasionally revealing a hint of power, but only through subtle influence—never anything flashy.
Lost in thought, he was snapped back to the present by Satan's voice in the earpiece. "This place really is desolate. Maybe that's why it's uninhabited—too barren, like a desert. Just not suited for human life."
As the convoy pushed deeper into the zone, nothing particularly strange occurred at first.
Even Diddy began to question the legends.
Could it really be that simple?
Then, without warning, a voice came crackling through the radio from the lead vehicle:
"Holy hell! There's no road ahead! I repeat, no road—there's a massive fissure in the ground! Damn it, we almost drove straight into it!"
The convoy came to a halt.
Before them stretched a giant rift, like a wound carved into the earth itself, running north to south as far as the eye could see.
Grass and weeds had grown thick over both sides of the rocky cliffs, partially obscuring the abyss.
If you weren't paying close attention, you'd never spot the anomaly.
"How deep is it?"
"Looks to be over twenty meters. There's water down there—probably an underground river."
"Detour around it," Martin instructed. "Tell the drivers to slow down and stay alert."
The rift wasn't wide—three to four meters at most. They could have built a temporary bridge across it, but abandoning the vehicles and equipment wasn't an option.
So they turned south, driving 1.5 kilometers before the fissure began to narrow.
Three kilometers later, the chasm vanished completely.
They turned west again.
Ten kilometers on, they encountered a far more troubling issue.
All their electronic devices stopped working.
GPS, radios, instruments—everything went haywire.
"There's definitely something wrong here. Seriously wrong," Diddy exclaimed, panicked. "I've lost all sense of direction!"
"It's the magnetic field," Martin said calmly. "It's completely disrupted in this area."
Everyone knew that some people were born with an innate sense of direction—so attuned to the Earth's magnetic field that they could navigate without stars, the sun, or any landmarks.
It was a trait believed to be inherited from Ancient Homo sapiens(Humans), much like how certain animals—migratory birds, for instance—could sense magnetic fields.
Diddy was one of those rare people.
Usually, he could walk blindfolded across the savannah and still find his way. But now, as they pushed deeper into the "Uninhabited Zone," even Diddy's instincts were failing him.
It was like trying to navigate blindfolded inside a spinning maze. He was deeply unsettled.
Fortunately, he wasn't needed for navigation this time.
Martin was.
"Head that way," Martin said, pointing toward a pair of symmetrical hills in the distance. Their rounded peaks reminded him of a certain topographical feature from the Dark Lion King's memories.
Yes—Martin was tracing the exact path the Nightfall Lion King had taken.
With his eidetic memory, he recalled every detail of that route—every landmark, every turn—etched perfectly in his mind.
It was the same route the Dark Lion King had taken both in and out of the ruins.
Martin now realized that the Dark Lion King hadn't followed a sense of direction—it had followed a scent.
That trail of urine it left behind? Not random at all.
In a place where magnetic fields were scrambled and instincts failed, it was the animal's trained habit—its learned survival tactic—that had guided it.
Because no matter how chaotic the magnetic field, the sun and stars remained in their fixed places. They were eternal beacons.
Perhaps that was how the ancients had once traversed this land as well.
Meanwhile, Satan frowned in confusion and muttered, "So why did the local tribes call this place the 'Uninhabited Zone'? Just because it's easy to get lost?"
"They knew how to navigate by the sun and stars too, didn't they?"
Martin smiled. "Maybe it's the terrain. Let's slow down. Have the vehicles follow our exact path—no deviations. Watch the ground…"
Martin had already walked this road once—twice, actually, counting the return trip—and he remembered every hazard clearly from the Dark Lion King's memories.
This land was like a broken mirror, full of dangerous terrain.
Natural traps lurked everywhere—deep cracks, hidden pits, sinkholes. The ground itself seemed wounded, scarred, and wrinkled like old skin.
These cracks and pits often appeared without warning. One second the road looked solid, the next it was split open or swallowing a wheel.
Fortunately, Martin had his magic scanning the path ahead. Thanks to that, the convoy reached a narrow canyon safely.
The gorge was tight—barely wide enough for a single person to pass.
The vehicles could go no farther.
"Unload everything," Martin ordered. "We're going on foot from here. It's not far now."
Luckily, their team was composed of elite young men. Carrying gear wouldn't be an issue.
After squeezing through the narrow pass, the scene before them changed dramatically.
Until now, everything had been barren, with barely a hint of green.
But on the other side of the gorge—it was like stepping into another world. A lush, verdant forest spread out before them.
That canyon was like a threshold, dividing two separate realms.
Martin scanned the area quickly and pointed to the right. "Over there."
Satan gave a signal, and two muscular men stepped forward, machetes and batons at the ready, to clear the path.
The forest wasn't large. There were snakes and bugs, and traces of a predator—once the ruler of this land, a lean and deadly cheetah.
But three years ago, when the Dark Lion King had passed through, that cheetah had foolishly tried to ambush it—and was promptly slaughtered.
Since then, the forest had been without a ruler.
Half an hour later, the team emerged on the other side.
They'd encountered poisonous insects and snakes, but Martin had planned ahead.
Everyone wore thick leather boots, sleeves tucked tight, gloves sealed at the wrists. Special helmets with masks covered their heads, and windproof goggles protected their eyes.
Other than feeling a bit hot, the team made it through without a single casualty.