Fremd Torturchen - Volume 5 - Chapter 1

1

Innocent Victims

Thanks to the efforts of the Torture Princess and her servant, the fourteen demons were successfully defeated and slain.

Humanity’s desperate fight had finally reached its conclusion. But the battle left the world acutely wounded, like a chessboard with cracks running down its surface.

The Capital, in particular, had been scarred and defiled. And that had brought forth a new problem.

The upper echelons of the Church, a number of their fanatics, and some of those who wished to escape the burden of having to restore the Capital sought to awaken the first demon, expand the destruction, and in doing so urge God to rebuild the world.

They believed that when the world was mended, the pious faithful would remain. But that line of thinking was naive in the extreme and shallower than the dreams of a child.

God created the world, and Diablo destroyed it. That was the extent of their existences.

Rebuilding was nothing more than the act of blotting out the current portrait, then painting a new one on top of it.

Other than the one holding the paintbrush, everyone would die. That was the answer awaiting them.

Also, in the underbelly of the world, there existed those who had worked to bring those events about, and there existed those who had worked to prevent it. The Butcher was the former, and he had sold Vlad demon flesh in order to bring calamity down on the world. The fourteen demons were destroyed, but the damage they left was more than sufficient to push people into desiring the world’s restructuring.

The flower of malice was blooming proud and vibrant.

The latter, those who worked to prevent it, were a group of alchemists, and they sacrificed their entire clan to bring forth a new Torture Princess. She was a maiden of salvation, a self-proclaimed oppressor of slaves, savior of the world, saint, and whore.

Jeanne de Rais.

On her guidance, Kaito and the others were currently deep in the sealed-away bowels of the Capital’s underground tomb.

The room they were in was modeled after a nursery. At first glance, it looked to be cutely adorned. But the decorations’ true nature was that of grotesque agony. Living human heads were embedded in the walls in place of a floral wallpaper, and intestines dangled from torn stomachs on the ceiling in place of ribbons.

And in the room’s center sat a cradle. It seemed almost cruel how pure a shade of white it was.

The cradle was rocking, as though to soothe the first demon slumbering within.

As she stood before that overwhelmingly powerful, wicked entity, Jeanne made her haughty proclamation.

“Now, dear Lovers, you understand the truth, and the gravity of the situation. Kaito Sena. Elisabeth Le Fanu. I know that the two of you are destined to fight each other to the death. But now you must throw that all away and serve me as faithful slaves.”

She turned her rosy gaze directly on the two of them.

And when she did, Jeanne de Rais, the artificial Torture Princess, went on as though it were only natural.

“At this rate, our world will be destroyed, and not so much as a trace will remain.”

Her words rang out through the chamber like a final verdict.

“…Hmph.”

“…Hmm.”

Upon hearing what Jeanne had to say, both Kaito and Elisabeth abruptly crossed their arms. Then they closed their eyes, as if to scrutinize her order-like request. Elisabeth’s beautiful face hardened, her expression serious, and Kaito’s youthful face did the same. A few seconds passed. Then the two of them opened their eyes in unison.

Neither of them had consulted the other. Without exchanging so much as a glance, they gave their replies.

Not even a breath separated their overlapping refusals.

Jeanne blinked repeatedly. Her head slumped as it tilted to the side.

“You made your decisions rather promptly, didn’t you, Lovers? Moreover, your answers themselves were outside my expectations. And ‘surprising’ hardly begins to describe the speed with which you responded. Please state your reasons.”

“First, ’tis wholly unclear what actions you intend to take hereon in search of this salvation of yours or what have you.”

Elisabeth raised her forefinger.

The black varnish on her nail glittered as she spun it aimlessly around in the air.

“Even if you tell me to become your servant, I have no intention of agreeing while unable to verify the validity of your plans and directions. And even prior to that, another problem arises. Do I look to you to be a laudable enough woman to labor like a slave under the direction of another?”

“Yeah, nope, not seeing it.”

Elisabeth pointed at herself, her face fiendish and cruel. Behind her, Kaito nodded earnestly.

The two of them then traded an inane exchange. “I have no desire to hear that from you. I shall kill you for that later.” “Wait, why?!” Seeing them on their normal behavior despite the time and place, Jeanne tilted her head to the other side.

“I see. That seems logical enough. Even the last section felt oddly persuasive. And your other reasons?”

“Second, you clearly have intentions of dragging us into some battle for the sake of salvation, do you not? And with no regard for our thoughts on the matter, at that. Why, then, should we content ourselves with being your servants? I see little benefit. We have little proof that your true motives are worthy of such faith.”

“I see, I see. And what else?”

“Third, Kaito, you tell her.”

Elisabeth turned to Kaito and gave a sharp gesture with her chin. The two of them still hadn’t consulted with each other. But in spite of that, he took over her speech with utmost ease.

“Thing is, we just don’t like you that much. That’s all.”

“I see. Illogical in the extreme.”

Jeanne bobbed her head up and down. But that was the extent of her reaction. She didn’t seem satisfied, but she didn’t seem dejected, either. She simply began spinning around on the spot, her left foot acting as her axle.

The chains dangling from her thin wrists like a prisoner’s jingled.

“Then I can assume that you have no intention of becoming my servants, but you plan on maintaining our collaborative relationship? After tellin’ you chucklefucks so many of the world’s secrets, having to be enemies with you meatheads sounds like a bad time! As you can see, I’m just a sweet little girl, after all!”

“The way you manage to offend is nothing short of superb, and your manner of speech is as disjointed as always. But I have no complaints with your conclusion. My servant’s foolishness and goody-goody nature know no limits, so I’m all but certain he’d have gotten himself involved regardless, of course. But I am not he. Normally, I’d have lost interest altogether the moment you mentioned salvation.”

“Oh, do you intend on seceding, then? I’d like to see you try, bitch!”

“Nay, I shall lend you my strength. And rejoice, for I intend to give it my utmost.”

A cruel smile accompanied Elisabeth’s declaration. Kaito nodded, his expression devoid of surprise. Even though she’d been the one to ask for help, though, Jeanne plopped her head to the other side again in puzzlement.

“For what reason?”

“I slew the fourteen demons. I put them down, each and every one. I destroyed them.”

Suddenly, Elisabeth’s tone grew cold and levelheaded. Her crimson eyes narrowed.

Sharp bloodlust danced atop her tongue as the words slipped from her mouth.

“But for that to be the mere opening act to the world being rebuilt? What an insipid farce. The ones who would laugh at the corpses I’ve left in my wake and accuse them of having died in vain shall perish by my hand. I shall kill them all. And in a manner befitting the name of Torture Princess, no less.”

Elisabeth gave a grand laugh. Her smile was beautiful, twisted, and evil.

Seeming half-likely to lick her lips, she gave voice to her blasphemous proclamation.

“Even if they are the Saint, even if they are Diablo, and even if they are God.”

“Bravo. I would expect no less from you. I would expect no less from the first Torture Princess, the woman who willingly gave herself to sin.”

Jeanne loudly clapped, the chains on her wrists jingling like a tambourine. Then, placing an open palm over her chest, she gave an elegant bow. With a great display of pride, Jeanne endorsed Elisabeth’s statement.

“Indeed, precisely. It would not do for us to be anything but haughty and proud. For without our human deeds surpassing those of God and Diablo, how could we possibly hope to bring about salvation?”

“Hmm,” pondered Kaito. On a basic level, Jeanne displayed the same arrogant disposition no matter who she was dealing with. But with Elisabeth, her reactions seemed to be of a slightly more positive bent.

The plan to create a Torture Princess must have started way long ago. But back then, they probably hadn’t arrived at the name “Torture Princess” yet. And it’s probably not just her speech—she likely used Elisabeth as a point of reference for her actions, too.

Perhaps Jeanne held a degree of respect toward the woman she’d used as a template. Elisabeth, though, seemed like she couldn’t care less about Jeanne’s admiration. She gave a small shrug.

As she did, Izabella interrupted their conversation.

“I apologize for the intrusion, but isn’t it rather dangerous to be making such an uproar down here? If you’ll forgive me, you’ve all been rather loud the last few minutes… What do you intend to do if that thing wakes up?”

At the moment, Izabella was being carried by Deus Ex Machina, the living, four-in-one weapon Jeanne had summoned as a servant. Sitting in its metal arms, she was looking at the cradle with a pallid expression on her face. Her eyes were filled with primal terror.

Kaito and Elisabeth turned their gazes toward the first demon as well. It was still deep in slumber.

But if it’s asleep, that means it’s eventually gonna wake up.

As a matter of fact, the group scheming to have the world rebuilt was actively hoping for that thing to awaken. But just as unease began welling up within Kaito, a voice suddenly called out from beside him to refute it.

“Put your mind at ease. You needn’t worry about that, I daresay.”

Kaito turned to look at the voice’s owner. A man wearing an aristocratic coat with a cravat was floating beside him, his legs crossed elegantly in the air. The man was Vlad Le Fanu, the Kaiser’s previous contractor and Elisabeth’s foster father—or, to be more precise, a replica of his soul. The smile that spread across his face bordered on beautiful.

“After all, its contract with its master yet stands.”

Vlad was a mere phantasm, and as such, the forces of gravity held no sway over him. He floated gently through the air on his way to his destination, which was, of all places, directly above Diablo’s cradle. Izabella quietly called out, trying to get him to stop.

“Wait, stop, stop, that’s dangerous. You shouldn’t get any closer than that.”

“Good heavens, to think that the Holy Knights’ commander would be such a coward. Timidity and virginity go hand in hand, I suppose, which lends your reaction a certain charm to it.”

“I’m gonna need you to dial it way back, man. That was a pretty blatant HR violation there.”

“What exactly might an ‘ay-char’ be, my dear successor? I’m afraid that we of this world aren’t familiar with that word.”

Vlad calmly threw Kaito’s cold rebuke aside. Then he turned back to the entity before himself and peered at it, an act that would have been enough to drive any normal human mad. As he placed his hand on the side of the cradle, he let out a seductive whisper.

“Upon manifestation, higher-ranked demons use their summoners as references and obtain from them language and ego. And upon gaining ego, many, like our friendly Kaiser here, go against the wishes of their inexperienced masters. This thing’s summoner, though, was first-rate. The Church built it this devious little room, but even with the pacification from the room’s pain, it wouldn’t awaken. The order it received was so effective, it borders on a curse, you see.”

Kaito responded to Vlad’s words with shock. Then, still dumbfounded, he turned to survey the room.

The people embedded in the walls were screaming in agony. But their vocal cords had been taken from them, and their howls were silent. The only things coming from their faces were tears and saliva. And the people hanging from the ceiling with rent stomachs were the same. The entire room was perpetually filled with the pain of the living, designed to pacify the demon within.

But according to Vlad, all of it was meaningless.

“Wait, the Church went out of their way to build this torture chamber…and it turns out they didn’t even need to?”

“That they didn’t, my dear. Since time immemorial, it has been an occasional habit of the weak to fearfully give offerings to the strong despite neither party wishing it. It’s a tragic tale, truly, and I’m sure the unfortunate victims around us find it more appalling than any.”

Vlad chuckled, and Kaito clenched his fists. As they did, Diablo continued peacefully breathing. It looked like a satisfied child, one who had never so much as experienced sorrow.

Vlad drew his face close to the child’s, which was repulsive in a difficult-to-quantify way. This time, his laugh was tinged with irony.

“Heh, no matter how proficient its master’s order, seeing an entity with power enough to destroy the world merely sleeping like this after manifesting is wholly unprecedented. And I say that as someone who lives in that very world.”

“Nay, you were burned through and through till you were well and truly dead. I made quite certain of that.”

“Ah, right you are. Burned to death by my own beloved daughter, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. Wait, no, I suppose that isn’t anything to laugh about. But, well, I exist in some capacity, in any case. And because of that, it would be rather bothersome if the world went and got itself destroyed. But at the same time, as a mage, leaving Diablo to its rest seems altogether a waste. At any rate, though, it won’t wake unless it receives a new order from its contractor.”

As she heard Vlad’s declaration, Hina narrowed her emerald eyes just a hair. As she stood beside Kaito, she laid her hands over the breast of her maid uniform and clasped them together tightly.

“Its contractor…”

Seeing her unease, Kaito drew himself closer to her. After exchanging a glance, the two of them nodded.

Jeanne had already told them who the contractor was.

The Suffering Saint revered by the Church.

She’s the one contracted to the first demon.

The long-sung legend of the world’s restructuring at the hand of the Saint had another, hidden side to it.

Before becoming known as the Saint, she’d formed a contract with the most powerful demon. While it’s unclear what her objective was, she was unable to maintain control and ended up destroying the world. In her regret, she summoned God, formed a contract with Him, and rebuilt the world. But she was unable to endure her two contracts, nor was she able to die, so instead, she fell into a deep slumber—and ever since, the truth had been perverted, leaving the focus solely on the fact that she’d carried God within her body as the savior who rebuilt the world. And because of that, she’d become worshipped as the “Suffering Saint.”

Part of the reason that the order she gave to the First Demon was so effective was probably because she used God’s power for it as well.

As that thought crossed his mind, a small question arose with it. The Saint was supposed to be the only one capable of waking up the first demon. That meant that the people plotting to set the world’s rebuilding in motion couldn’t wake it up, either. But if that was the case, then where was the woman who possessed that power resting?

An eternal slumber, huh?

Death and sleep were very different. And unlike Diablo, it was conceivable that any human would be able to wake up the Saint. If the Church got their hands on her, they’d be able to implore her to bring about the miracle of restructuring. That was something he and the others definitely needed to prevent.

But where in the world could she be?

“Hey, do we have any idea where the Saint might be? She isn’t dead, right? Because if she isn’t, then we gotta find her before the Church does.”

“You’ve asked an uncharacteristically pertinent question, mister. Allow me to answer it. We the Church, and for that matter all of humanity, have no idea where the Saint currently rests. And the Church has spared no effort in trying to locate her. But after all their investigations and expeditions, the only things they were able to locate were relics. And they were hunks of trash, the lot of ’em! And the other mages and believers looking for her found no more success than they.”

“Well…I guess that’s good news. That means that there’s no way to bring about the world’s restructuring. I mean, without the Saint, Diablo won’t wake up. And they can’t pray to God to start the rebuilding, either, right?”

Kaito felt a deep sense of relief. When he did, though, Jeanne’s eyes flashed as though she was looking at an incorrigible dunce. It was impressive, given that the rest of her face was as expressionless as always. Elisabeth heaved a heavy sigh.

Kaito tilted his head to the side, unsure of what had been so stupid about what he’d said. Even after running it all back through his mind, he couldn’t find any contradictions. Jeanne shrugged her bare shoulders derisively.

“You really are The Fool, aren’t you, mister? The Church desires the world’s restructuring due to their blind faith in the Saint. Despite knowing of the first demon’s existence, the reconstruction sect still believes the Saint to possess boundless mercy. Because of that, they believe that no matter how they go about destroying the world, the Saint will naturally appear amid the rubble and carry out the rebuilding. Diablo is but one method at their disposal. Of course, they would doubtless prefer to find her themselves and witness the miracle firsthand.”

“Wait, b-but are people even capable of such wide-scale destruction on their own?”

“With ease. And especially now that the Church can produce as much of the Monarch’s meat as they desire.”

Elisabeth responded matter-of-factly to Kaito’s doubts. Without a shred of hesitation, she put forth a cruel supposition.

“Let us say, as an example… All they’d have to do is cart a small army of transformed sinners to the border leading to the beastfolk and demi-human lands. War would break out, the forests would burn, and the earth would be shattered. And there’s no shortage of other methods one could conceive of. Just think back to your past life. You should be well acquainted with mankind’s capacity for tyranny, and the means of destruction at their disposal are legion.”

“The Church…the Church would never resort to such inhumane methods!”

Suddenly, Izabella cried out. Kaito and the others all looked at her. Kaito’s gaze was unconsciously tinged with pity. Her silver armor, what had once been proof of her status as a paladin, still shone. But she’d just defeated a monster created by a high priest called the Grave Keeper, and her armor now sported dark stains from its blood.

Ironically, her own body served as a rebuttal to her outcry. Even so, she continued her emotional appeal.

“I’ll concede that ever since the demon subjugation, a group within the Church has been acting suspiciously. Within the paladins, as well. And I’m well aware of how unusual this place is, along with the fact that they worked to conceal it. But the vast majority of the high priests are good, respectable people. Why are you all so unable to trust in their dignity and virtue? My paladins wouldn’t stand for the sorts of atrocities you speak of!”

The more she spoke, the more she affirmed the perversion lurking within the Church. Her voice was full of desperation, as though she was clinging to something. But Jeanne merely looked at her the way one would at a willful child.

“Would you mind being quiet, miss? It takes a thief to catch a thief, they say! Even if you and your friends get pissed off, it ain’t gonna change shit! Organizations are like centipedes. The body follows the head, even if it doesn’t quite know what it’s doing. And people would sooner discard their dignity and virtue than be left behind. To put it kindly, it’s proof of their loyalty. To put it less kindly, well, sometimes abandoning one’s judgment ends up working toward the greater good. This time, however, the head is beyond salvation. Shit’s rotten to the core.”

“B-but…”

“Godd Deos’s death was the turning point, no doubt. With nobody near the head to stop it from running wild, the situation can quickly turn for the worse, with little regard for the opinions of those involved.”

Izabella choked back her rebuttal. She was probably well aware of examples where organizations had undergone transformations without their members noticing. Still silent, she bit down on her lip.

Jeanne, on the other hand, went on. Her tone was that of an instructor.

“There exist shepherds who would gladly cast themselves into the fire just to catch a glimpse of a miracle. And most of their sheep will blindly follow after them. Only when the situation becomes irreparable will the people first cry out. How did things get to this point? they will say, one and all.”

Izabella offered no reply, instead choosing to remain completely silent. But she hadn’t given up—she was clearly thinking in earnest about something. Concerned about how deeply she seemed to be brooding, Kaito called out to her.

“Hey, Izabella—”

“Therefore, before the situation reaches the point of no return, we must locate and obtain the Saint.”

Jeanne, though, continued talking, paying no heed to Izabella’s mental anguish. Kaito went quiet for the time being.

At the moment, figuring out their next course of action was of utmost importance.

“If the situation degraded into a race war, reverting it would be nigh impossible, after all. It’d be like charging straight into Hell! Ain’t shit a group of our size could do about that!”

“But you have no information on the Saint’s whereabouts, either, aye? What do you intend to do about that?”

“True. But that’s not to say the information doesn’t exist.”

Jeanne offered an unexpected answer to Elisabeth’s question. Kaito frowned.

Who could possibly have information regarding the location of a woman who’d been missing since the very creation of the world?

“Her location may well be known to a single…or rather, perhaps it’s best not to try to count, but they do exist. I’ve spent some time investigating him. But upon learning the secrets of this underground tomb, I find my suspicions have finally turned to confidence.”

The chain on Jeanne’s wrist rattled as she raised an arm. Then she pointed at the wall they had broken the barrier on and passed through. It was currently functioning as a door and was resting ajar, and on its surface was an intricate carving of an apostle wearing tattered rags and standing alongside the Saint.

As he gazed at the apostle’s familiar figure, Kaito muttered meaningfully.

“…The Butcher, huh.”

“This, too, is a reason I sought the assistance of you two Lovers. He is the merchant of legend, one of the founders of the original Five Great Guilds, and known by all with even a passing involvement in trade. And he is also the Saint’s apostle, the Butcher. After working to build the foundations for the circulation of goods within society, he went into hiding for countless ages. But there have been sightings of him in recent years, all of which have been located around the two of you.”

Kaito instinctively cast his eyes downward. He still hadn’t gotten his emotions in order over this whole ordeal. Hina, standing beside him, was much the same. The Butcher had saved them a number of times, so it was difficult to think of him as an enemy. But according to Elisabeth, he’d declared himself the enemy of no one individually but of every person living in the world.

And he’d supposedly said something else as well.

“They are of little consequence to the result. I’d never thought someone would rise to oppose the dreadful end of the story that the fourteen tragedies mark the beginning of. And Mr. Dim-Witted Servant is the same. Though your two tales may be small in the scope of things, the results they bear may be monumental indeed… Who knows, after all, how the world may turn from here on?”

That doesn’t sound like something the “enemy of the world” would say, does it?

That thought stole through Kaito’s mind unbidden. The Butcher’s words didn’t sound like they’d come from someone who wanted the world to end. But he swallowed down the doubts welling up inside and asked a different question instead.

“Where is the Butcher right now?”

Elisabeth responded to his inquiry by crossing her arms. When she spoke, her voice had a mysteriously quiet ring to it.

“He’s inside a Gibbet within my castle.”

“You, uh, you did mention on the way down here that you’d captured him. But you didn’t just leave him like that, did you?”

“I did. What of it? I can hardly release a man who proclaims himself my enemy. ’Twould be folly.”

“I mean, I guess…”

Surely there are options other than just leaving him chained up, thought Kaito to himself. But the Butcher was notably elusive. Any lesser restraints would probably have ended with him just slipping out.

Finally satisfied, Kaito turned his gaze away from Elisabeth. It landed on the first demon.

It doesn’t matter if it wakes up or keeps sleeping, huh. But we can’t let them destroy the world, no matter what method they try to use… Wait, hold on a second.

If that was the case, then just finding the Saint wouldn’t be enough to stop the Church from running rampant, would it? Was Jeanne perhaps hoping to get the Saint to persuade the fanatics to stop? That plan seemed altogether dubious, so Kaito posed Jeanne a question.

“Hey, what’s your plan for after we find the Saint?”

“Duh, we’re gonna kill her ass.”

Kaito found himself at a loss for words, and his eyes went wide with shock. He hadn’t thought that their plan involved killing the Saint. Jeanne’s lips curled upward a smidgen. Then, in order to completely crush his naïveté, she elaborated.

“Why do you seem so surprised? If we kill its contractor, Diablo will be unable to stay manifested and vanish. And God, who yet dwells within her body, is no different. When that happens, the two of them will return to a state where mankind’s desires cannot possibly reach them. Furthermore, if we deliver her head to our foes, they, too, will understand. ‘The miracle is lost to us.’ ‘Even if we destroy the world, it won’t be rebuilt.’”

“But we don’t have to kill anyone… If we just get her to make the fanatics see reason—”

“Oh my, you would have us rely on the woman who once destroyed the world? Please don’t tell me you only just now realized, Hanged Man. The praiseless road we walk down is paved with thorns, and at its end, we shall become true enemies of this world.”

Jeanne shook her head in exasperation, her thick honey-blond hair gently scattering across her shoulders.

She still bore no expression, but her rose-colored eyes opened alarmingly wide as she made her declaration.

“Our salvation lies in murdering Diablo, murdering God, and, yes, murdering a human.”

A heavy silence spread throughout the dimness of the underground tomb.

Kaito still offered no reply. Hina gently placed her hand atop his arm. The Kaiser let out a deep, humanlike laugh. As she scratched gently at her own black hair, Elisabeth spoke in an annoyed tone.

“Hmm… The Saint bears God within her body, so I have concerns about our ability to actually kill her. I suppose we’ll know once we try. Steady your resolve, if naught else.”

“Yeah, no, I’m okay. I’d be fine even without you telling me that.”

“Very well, then.”

“I do appreciate it, though.”

“Ha. Appreciate what exactly?”

Elisabeth scoffed at Kaito’s words of thanks. Even so, he nodded back at her. Jeanne’s declaration had come as a blow to him, but he was already over it. He’d seen grisly mountains of corpses before, and starting with Marianne, he’d killed his fair share of people.

There was no reason for him to be fixated on the Saint’s survival.

And besides, once we meet her in the flesh, everything might change on the spot. Right now, we should just worry about getting the Butcher to talk.

“It seems there are no objections to our current course of action, then, so I think we’d best be off. Going back the way we came ain’t too glamorous or anything, but them’s the breaks. All the barriers are destroyed, but the building itself is designed to block teleportation. To go to the Torture Princess’s castle, we need to first make our way outside.”

And with that, Jeanne practically danced her way out of the nursery. The Kaiser scoffed in displeasure, but he, Vlad, Elisabeth, and Izabella, who was still being carried by Deus Ex Machina, followed after her.

Accompanied by Hina, Kaito started walking out of the nursery as well. But as he approached the doorway, he stopped in his tracks. His leather soles screeched against the ground. Then he turned back, the hem of his military-style long coat rustling as he did so.

As he stared fixatedly at the horrific nursery, he called out to one of the people behind him.

“Hey, Vlad. You said that even without this room’s messed-up setup…even without the pacification from the pain, the First Demon won’t wake up, right?”

“Verily, my dear successor. This room was crafted out of an overabundance of fear. It’s meaningless, and dare I say even comical…so I have my suspicions as to your intentions.”

“You’re not going to stop me, even though you’re onto me?”

“Perish the thought! True, your actions are hypocritical, grounded in a trivial sense of mercy! Yet, at the same time, they will lead you one step closer toward becoming a worthy vessel to inherit my will—after all, what you’re thinking of doing is a privilege extended only to the strong! Hypocrisy leads to arrogance, and from them flower the origins of all sadism and tyranny! Please defile them all you wish!”

“Huh… Well, if that’s the way you see it, at least you won’t get in my way.”

Kaito nodded as he gave his blunt reply. Then he cast a fleeting glance outside the room.

Vlad was spreading his arms exaggeratedly wide. At some point, Jeanne and the others had stopped as well. Elisabeth was shrugging at the very edge of his vision, as though calling him a fool. But Kaito knew.

If I hadn’t stopped, you’d have come up with some excuse to do this yourself, wouldn’t you?

The only bewildered member of the group was Hina. She looked back and forth between Kaito and the nursery. Before long, though, her expression stiffened with resolve. Gripping her halberd tightly, she stepped in front of Kaito.

“My dear Master Kaito, I, too, have grasped your intentions. You are far gentler than any other and far more merciful…and that is precisely why it will hurt you so. Please let me do—”

“No. This isn’t something I should be foisting off on my wife. I’m gonna do it. I have to.”

Her offer was kind, but Kaito turned it down. With Hina looking to be on the verge of tears, he patted her head, then gestured for her to leave. After waiting until Hina was a safe distance away, Kaito took a deep breath and raised an arm above his head.

Then he snapped his fingers.

Six blades appeared out of the empty air, deploying in a circle with the cradle at their center like the middle of a flower. They glittered sharply as they turned toward the walls and ceiling. After coming to eerily precise stops, they waited for their master’s cue.

Kaito murmured quietly, as though trying to persuade himself.

“It’s a job befitting the enemy of mankind.”

Then he snapped his fingers again.

“La (kill them all).”

The blades shot out with the speed of a guillotine dropping, the six of them carving up the walls and ceiling in unison. That is to say, they sliced up the victims installed therein.

They’d all been cursed so as to avoid letting them die. But the curse wasn’t nearly effective enough to protect against Kaito’s magically empowered attack. Their lives, which had been held perpetually just shy of death’s grasp, instantly came to an end.

One after another, the soundless screams faded.

But the slaughter went on.

Blood sprayed in all directions, drenching the room in a ghastly shade of red. It looked almost as though six beasts had leaped from Diablo’s cradle and savagely sliced their way through the room. And the noise of the walls and ceiling sounded like an orchestra. Kaito, in his black uniform, played the role of the conductor, waving his arm both violently and delicately. The blades were his instrumentalists, and they wove their shearing melody in accordance with his directions.

The time it took felt like it lasted an eternity. But every performance must eventually come to an end.

Ten or twenty seconds later, Kaito swung his arm wide, then brought it to a sudden stop.

All at once, the blade disappeared. Silence descended upon the room. The only sound left was the faint trickling of blood.

The nursery-like chamber had been completely ruined. Chunks of flesh and viscera littered the floor, and everything in sight was red. A thick, rusty smell began filling the air.

Amid the tragic spectacle, the first demon slumbered gently, as though nothing had changed. Kaito averted his gaze from it, instead looking at the blood gathering at his feet. As he faced the vast pool of red, he let out a gentle whisper.

“Good night, everyone. Sweet dreams.”

In a sense, his words were tinged with madness. But they came from the heart.

After all, he’d heard a continuous scream from the moment he’d first set foot in the room. It was a striking, sorrowful plea, one that only someone who’d experienced extreme pain could perceive.

Please kill us, they’d been saying.

Please make it all end.

The people being used to pacify Diablo had long since gone mad from the pain. But in spite of that, they’d never stopped their desperate supplication. And now Kaito could hear their pitiful cries no more.

He cast his gaze around the room, his expression full of affection and sadness. He looked to make sure they were all dead, that there were no sacrifices left in the room. After determining that to be the case, he let his face turn serious again.

Having coldly wiped away his expression, the Kaiser’s contractor turned on his heel. Then, alone, he began walking.

Hurriedly, Hina rushed back into the nursery. Clutching the hem of her skirt, she faced the grisly spectacle and offered a deep bow. After closing her eyes for a moment as though in prayer, she ran back over to her companion’s side. Nestling close to Kaito, Hina squeezed his hand in hers.

He stayed facing forward, as though nothing had happened. But he returned his wife’s grasp and intertwined his fingers with hers.

Ever so faintly, his hand was trembling.