Fremd Torturchen - Volume 5 - Chapter 7

7

Her First Love

“You all were perfectly able to pursue me. Thus, the converse should be true as well, no? I find it truly, truly sorrowful, you know, that we should meet again in such a way.”

The Grave Keeper launched into a sudden monologue. Words came pouring from her mouth with no preamble or introduction. Her face was dark beneath her scarlet hood, yet her white cheeks were tinged red like those of a maiden in love.

“It was said that the rights would be granted impartially. Equally, to all races, to all peoples. Yet, that was never anything more than a sweet little white lie. The Apostle made his choice back at the very beginning, he did.”

Kaito’s brows involuntarily furrowed. The Grave Keeper was clearly agitated about something, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was that had set her off.

Impartial rights… Is she talking about the letter the Butcher sent out? But this thing about the Apostle making his choice back at the start…what’s that about?

“It was simple once I put my mind to it. The fact that the whelp served as a guide was proof. The fact that he sought ‘two’ was proof. And if that is the case, then it’s hardly my place to raise objections. It’s only right that the number of people who receive blessings be limited. Only a few shall bear witness to her sacred awakening. For that, verily, is providence, is it not?”

The Grave Keeper’s tone began gradually shifting. It started to sound like she herself was the one she was trying to convince. An indescribable sense of unease washed over Kaito. Lute’s reaction seemed no different.

Elisabeth and Jeanne, on the other hand, appeared wholly unfazed. It seemed that the two Torture Princesses had anticipated a showdown with the Grave Keeper. Even so, though, Elisabeth raised an eyebrow.

“…Just what exactly are you going on about?”

Kaito was taken aback. Apparently, not even Elisabeth knew the reason behind the Grave Keeper’s confusion. Jeanne’s expression was as blank as always, and her rose-colored gaze was steely.

Instinctively, Kaito grabbed on to the jewel within his pocket. Heat emanated from the stone by means of a response.

Letting Vlad out here might be a good idea.

As the Kaiser would have it, Vlad was “He Who Rears Hell Within His Mind.” His disposition was fundamentally calm, but his nature was twisted and mad. There was a good chance that he’d be able to interpret the Grave Keeper’s ramblings for them. But calling Vlad out here would raise problems of its own.

Standing around the Grave Keeper was a group of gigantic, transfigured paladins. Their stiff armor was spread out over their engorged muscles like caramel. Their limbs were elongated as well, knees, elbows, and all. However, their transformations were just slight enough that they still counted as “human.”

They were no doubt the cream of the crop, those who’d either been relatively compatible or those who’d successfully been able to take in pain.

They were currently standing in a line, stock-still and with their swords pointed toward the ground like a row of statues. However, there was no telling how they’d react if he added Vlad to the mix. Odds were good that a battle would break out before Kaito even had a chance to ask Vlad to interpret.

Hina was standing in front of him, protecting him with her halberd at the ready. Lute also had a firm grip on his sword’s handle.

Everyone present was prepared for fighting to break out at any moment.

And no wonder… Now that we’ve come head-to-head like this, it’s not like we have room to worry about power struggles or politics anymore.

After all, the Apostle, which was to say, the Butcher, was within their line of sight. It was only a matter of time before they started trying to kill each other in earnest. And only the survivors would end up finding out where the Saint was resting. However, the Grave Keeper seemed to have only just caught on to the bloodlust emanating from Kaito’s company.

She shook her head vigorously from side to side, as though to suggest that the entire thing was preposterous. Snowflakes fluttered loosely off her scarlet cloak. She then clutched tightly at her chest as she wrung her pained words out.

“No, no, heavens, no. I, and those who share my beliefs, no longer have any intention of turning our swords on you. Now it’s faith that’s required of us.”

“…Wait, you’re not here to fight us?”

“I believe in you all, you see. Even if you don’t afford me the same sentiments! However, you require an ordeal. Indeed, one from another besides myself. However, that is all. That, truly, is all.”

“…Someone other than you?”

Kaito felt an unpleasant premonition, and a chill ran down his spine. Even now, the Grave Keeper’s voice was tinged with madness. Her pupils were dilated, her arms were spread wide, and spittle flew from her mouth as she talked.

“For the sake of the world, for the sake of the people, our revered Saint fell into slumber and shed tears of blood! That is what flows through the roots of the Church—her unrewarded love, her noble self-sacrifice! In the name of faith, in the name of the world, she cast herself aside! And what could that be but the most desirable trait possible for those chosen to possess! I have sacrificed everything, discarded even my ego! Can you, the chosen ones, say the same?”

As she forcefully posed her question, the Grave Keeper held her right arm aloft. An unpleasant metallic noise followed.

Upon looking at her hand, Kaito finally noticed something. Clenched within her small fist was the end of a silver chain.

The noise acted as a signal, and the paladins set into motion. Relinquishing their posts at the Grave Keeper’s side, they parted to the left and right like waves. Then, in unison, the transfigured paladins knelt.

Then, pulled by the chain, something with four legs advanced between them.

The thing was a beast draped in fine scarlet cloth. Beneath the cloth, its flesh and bones burbled as they constantly swelled and contracted back to their original shape. Each time they did, blood gushed forth, and a cry of pain rose from beneath the folds.

The moment he heard it, Kaito shuddered. He recognized that voice.

Th-that’s not…

“And here it is! Here it is, O unworthy contractor of mine!”

The Kaiser’s laughs echoed within Kaito’s eardrums. At the same time, he felt someone firmly staring at him. The boy who’d once saved him was looking straight at him, his unflinching gaze boring into Kaito’s skin.

The dead boy, Neue, was asking Kaito a question with his eyes.

Can you? he was asking.

Can I what? replied Kaito silently. But even as he did, his thoughts naturally rushed to a certain fact.

I’ve slain a lot of people.

He’d drenched himself in blood, lost his left arm, and lost his status as a normal human. He’d killed foes, he’d killed demons, and he’d killed underlings. That was how he’d gotten by. But up until then, he’d never once killed someone he himself held dear. He’d gotten this far without ever needing to.

But Neue’s gaze was asking him a question.

Can you? he was asking.

The Kaiser, on the other hand, was merely laughing his almost-human laugh.

“It seems a proper trial is upon you!”

There was no way Kaito could successfully feign ignorance as to what he was being told. He was well aware. There was no doubt in his mind as to what question he was being asked.

“Please show me tragic devotion befitting the favor you’ve received! Show it to me, if you’d be so kind!”

As she made her loud entreaty, the Grave Keeper yanked off the scarlet cloth. The curtain to the freak show had been drawn, and the creature’s full body was revealed. Kaito reflexively looked down at his feet. Then he let out a violent whisper.

“........................................................................ You fucking monster.”

The thing beneath the cloth had once been human.

Its silver hair was longer than it had been before. It crept like vines, winding its tangled tips around the creature’s legs. All its flesh had metamorphosized and had either swelled up like tumors or was sagging. Because of that, the scars that had once run across its skin were exaggerated, causing them to look like stitches. Its armor had been taken from it, and its spine was crooked and warped like an animal’s. Its breasts rocked as they scratched against the surface of the ice.

Then she slowly looked up. When she did, her gemlike, mismatched blue and purple eyes came to rest on Kaito and the others.

Even now, her eyes were still beautiful.

“Ah… Ah, ah, ah, ahhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

The creature let out a roar of agony. Can you? asked Neue’s gaze once more.

Can you kill Izabella Vicker? he was asking.

Can you kill her, like all those transformed paladins you unhesitatingly decided there was no way to save?

Kaito parted his trembling lips. Then he gave his confession to the phantasm whom only he could see.

“I…can’t.”

Then the thing that had once been Izabella leaped.

Its sharp claws and fangs loudly bore down on Kaito.

There existed something that Kaito Sena had never thought about.

It was something he’s stubbornly ignored time and time again.

For instance, there were all the people who’d been forcibly turned into underlings. For instance, there were the people whose pain had been used to pacify a demon. For instance, there were the paladins who had eaten demon flesh, either by force or by stupidity.

In other words, innocent victims.

Kaito had killed them, hoisting a flag of mercy all the while. Because he’d known that there was no other way to save them, he hadn’t so much as hesitated. Despite its hypocrisy, the act itself had been compassionate. However, therein lay room for a question to arise. It was a question related to an instance that had yet to occur, one that Kaito had purposefully avoided thinking about.

What if, hypothetically, one of the victims was someone Kaito knew well?

Would it still be so easy for me to kill them, claiming that there weren’t any other options?

Could he, Kaito Sena, do that? Or was the reason he’d been able to avoid hesitating merely because the victims hadn’t meant anything to him?

…It’s the latter.

Now Kaito could be sure of that. That was the plain truth of the matter. Even so, he still didn’t believe that he’d been in the wrong. Someone you knew would invariably be more important to you than someone you didn’t. That was just how the world worked.

And at the same time, killing someone, even someone who meant nothing to you, was hard on a person. It wasn’t as though Kaito was a homicidal maniac or something. In order to save someone who was constantly suffering, though, someone else necessarily had to get their hands dirty.

Suffering an eternity of pain was a cruel thing indeed. Because he believed that, Kaito had drenched his hands in blood.

Doesn’t it make it blasphemous if I can’t do the same now, then?

“I did it to you all, but I can’t do the same to someone I know.”

Was he really going to face the mountain of corpses he’d piled up and say that? It would be complete and utter bullshit.

And it would be deeply, deeply unforgivable.

But of course, Kaito Sena already knew all that.

Back in the real world, that entire train of thought had gone through his mind in the space of a blink.

As he returned to his senses, Kaito channeled mana into the soles of his feet, propelling himself back on his own strength. Not a second later, Izabella’s forearm shattered the icy ground before him. He landed a hairbreadth beside Hina, who had almost taken off at a run. As she breathed a sigh of relief, a heartbroken light passed through Hina’s eyes.

“Master Kaito… I understand how you feel, but…”

“Huh? …Oh.”

It was then that Kaito first realized that his hand was outstretched and had been for some time. Grabbing his right arm with its beastly left counterpart, he forcibly wrenched it back down. Then, with trembling fingers, he stroked his cheek.

I knew it was gonna end like this. Or, at least, I should have known.

Kaito had left Izabella behind, knowing full well what would become of her. Even so, the scene before his eyes smashed his heart to pieces like a hammer.

That was simply how cruel Izabella’s transformation had been.

Elisabeth said nothing. Surprisingly, Jeanne’s expressionless face showed no changes.

Lute, however, let out a low growl, sword in hand. He narrowed his eyes, as though digging through his memories.

“Sir Kaito, is perchance that monster someone you…? No, I, too, know her name. Izabella. Izabella the paladin… That silver hair, the color of those eyes… Could that truly be Izabella Vicker? Why, that’s their commander! Why has she become such a thing?”

“Lute, you and Izabella knew each other?”

“She paid us a few courtesy calls regarding the assistance Lady Vyade Ula Forstlast was providing in rebuilding the Capital. Her manners were rare for a human, and she valued repaying her debts. Why, from her second visit on, she even brought souvenirs for my wife! Well, I suppose that hardly qualifies as knowing her. Yet, still…”

Then Lute stiffened his jaw, his teeth audibly grinding together. As he looked at Izabella’s grotesque form, his lupine eyes flashed. Dumbfounded, he repeated himself.

“Still…”

“It’s okay, Lute. It’s more than enough in my book.”

If it was someone he hadn’t known, he could likely have put her down out of pity. But knowing her character, how warm her heart had once been, would have dulled anyone’s blade. That was just the way things were. Sentiment had the power to radically change the weight of a murder.

Even so, though, there were times when battle was inevitable.

Now was one of those times.

“Ah-gah-gah-gah-gah-gah-gah-gah-gah, ehhhhh, eh, aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Izabella let out a maddened scream. Several of her bones had pointlessly expanded. In particular, her knees and elbows pierced through her skin. Each time she moved, blood flowed freely from her body. In spite of that, though, she leaped around with clear purpose.

Her silver hair grew violently disheveled. Chunks wrapped around her limbs tore free, taking bits of scalp with them as they went.

“Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee, ha-ha-ha-ha, hyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

Even so, she continued laughing at the top of her voice. Recollections started flashing through Kaito’s mind.

Then, despite knowing that it was the most meaninglessly sentimental thing he could possibly do, he began filtering through his memories.

First, he thought back to what had happened in the Capital, back when the demonic mass of flesh had invaded.

Izabella’s straight silver hair had glistened in the moonlight. Back then, not a single scar had marred her skin. After unhesitatingly taking the Kaiser’s contractor’s hand in hers, she’d spoken.

“Let’s take out that demon together.”

Next, he thought about the events back in the demon’s world, the space where everything died.

Paying no heed to the fact that the force of her mana was tearing apart her skin from inside, Izabella had shouted at him through a communication device.

“Don’t give me that nonsense, Kaito Sena! Enough is enough! You should be looking for any help you can get, even if it comes from a monster! Don’t you want to save the suffering people as soon as possible?”

Then there had been the events down in the underground tomb.

She had been the one to deal the final blow to the gatekeeper within, a monster that the Grave Keeper had created by fusing a demon with a divine creature. Despite her trembling hands, Izabella had laid her arm horizontally over her chest. Despite her flowing tears, she’d given it a bow.

“No longer must you be bound by the chains of your tortured existence. Your efforts guarding the tomb did not go unnoticed.”

Finally, Kaito arrived at the memory of what had happened only just a little bit ago.

Izabella had stood with her back to the exploding light. Even while she rejected Kaito and the others, she’d still smiled.

“That we are, I suppose. Idiots, one and all.”

The lacerations running across her pale skin had twisted unattractively.

Yet, even so, Izabella Vicker was beautiful.

She had truly been beautiful.

I… I can…

As he tried to finish thinking through his answer, though, Kaito found himself interrupted.

Crimson flower petals had begun gently fluttering around him.

Startled, Kaito felt his eyes go wide. At some point, crimson had become interspersed with the silver snowflakes dancing through the air. A violent wind broke out, and petals and feathers flew through the air as though trying to blot out the milky sky.

Astonished as he was, Kaito was reminded once more of a certain truth.

Sentiment had the power to radically change the weight of a murder. That was only natural.

But there’s someone I know who’s fully willing to trample their own thoughts and feelings underfoot.

She was someone who paid no heed to the wails of others, no matter how grief-stricken or forlorn they might be. And she had the power to utterly destroy her own feelings and sentimentality. The hefty sins she bore on her back did nothing to dull the resonance of her loud laughter.

Now she was standing proud and tall amid the whirlpool of crimson petals and black feathers.

She was the proud wolf. She was the lowly sow. She was the Torture Princess, Elisabeth Le Fanu.

And she was holding Executioner’s Sword of Frankenthal aloft.

“How pitiful you are, Izabella. Yet, this, too, is the fruit of your resolve and dedication. Thus, I lend you no compassion or scorn. I shall simply kill you. And I shan’t ask for your gratitude. Death is a fate we all wish to avoid. Even if it is the sole avenue to respite, that sentiment is one that every living creature shares.”

Elisabeth’s voice was cold and firm. She was arrogant, and at the same time, she knew full well what it meant to take a life. Her black hair fluttered as she began advancing, passing by Kaito in silence.

When she did, she didn’t spare him so much as a glance.

She said nothing to anyone else, either. When she spoke, it was to Izabella alone.

“Resent me to your heart’s content. ’Tis your right to do so.”

Unhesitatingly, she looked into those blue and purple eyes. Her gaze didn’t waver for a moment. Just like she’d done for Marianne and the children who’d been fused to the mass of flesh, she gazed at the one she intended to kill. At the same time, Kaito felt as though he’d been struck by lightning.

What am…what the hell am I doing?

“Go now to your rest.”

“Elisabeth, wait!”

The shout escaped Kaito’s lips half-unbidden. Elisabeth whirled to face him, clearly annoyed. Izabella stooped over, then let out a growl. Keeping a careful eye on her movements, Elisabeth heaved a sigh.

“What, are you going to insist that we can save her or some such nonsense? Idiocy taken to extremes can border on sin, you know.”

“No, that’s not it! I just need you to hold on for a minute.”

Kaito tried to take a step forward. When he did, though, he realized something. Even though his thoughts were clear and level, his knees were on the verge of unceremoniously giving way.

Hina quickly rushed over to his side. She gently took his hand in hers to comfort him.

“Master Kaito, your hand… I understand what it is you’re thinking. What a truly kind man you are. If you wish to do this, even though your legs tremble so, then I shall accompany you.”

“Thanks, Hina. Every step I take forward is thanks to your help.”

Kaito returned Hina’s soft squeeze. Then, with her by his side, he stepped before Elisabeth. Awkward as his demeanor was, the Torture Princess didn’t laugh at him. She simply waited for him to speak.

As he gazed at her, he ruminated on something.

Back at the entrance to the underground tomb, when he and Elisabeth had been crossing blades, what was it he’d been thinking about?

Why had he fought so hard to avoid being killed by the Torture Princess? It wasn’t fear of death. It was mindless obsession.

That’s right. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to die. It was something way more important than that.

Like hell I’m gonna let Elisabeth kill me.

Like hell I’m gonna let her kill anyone else she cares about.

That was what had been going through his mind.

Isn’t that right, Kaito Sena?!

The number of people whom one could choose to save at all costs was highly limited. Kaito was well aware of that fact.

Back before he was reincarnated, he hadn’t had a single person who was precious to him. That was precisely why he’d decided to fight to the bitter end to protect the ones he’d found in this life. But this demon-ridden world was harsh and cruel. His experiences in his past life had helped him learn one thing quickly: Due to his powerlessness, his arms could reach only a handful of people.

Because of that, he’d chosen to put Elisabeth Le Fanu ahead of the whole world.

He’d decided to put his entire existence on the line to save that dreadful, horrible, peerless sinner.

What, then, could he possibly have to tremble about?

“Indeed—one who forgets their greatest wish is naught but a fool masquerading as a saint.”

The Kaiser had told him to trample over everyone who stood in his path. Kaito ground his teeth.

Even if Izabella’s smile had been beautiful.

Even if she’d been radiant as she foolishly strode straight forward.

That was something he couldn’t allow the Torture Princess to bear.

“I’ll be the one to kill Izabella Vicker.”

And with that, Kaito made his declaration. He squeezed Hina’s hand in gratitude. Then, after tapping the back of her hand to set her mind at ease, he let go of it and strode alone toward Izabella.

The Torture Princess narrowed her crimson eyes. Hina closed her eyes, then opened them. Lute hung his head downward.

Kaito Sena raised his hand high and made to snap his fingers.

Then, right before he could, a massive silver fist came crashing into him.

“Hmm?”

“Wh—?”

“Master Kaitoooooooooooo!”

Elisabeth arched an eyebrow, Lute was dumbstruck, and Hina let out a cry.

As for Kaito himself, it took a couple of violent revolutions of his body before the fact that he’d been punched set in. He then descended in a cartoonish tailspin. A moment before he crashed to the ground, though, Hina successfully slid into position to catch him.

“A-a-a-a-are you all right, Master Kaito? I had no idea you would go popping and whizzing through the air like that, my beloved. Oh heavens, what would I have done if I hadn’t caught you?”

“H-Hina… Ow, ow, what happened to me?”

“Why, it was her.”

Confused as she was, Hina’s tone when she answered Kaito’s question was filled with unmistakable reproach.

At the other end of her pointed gaze, a single individual was walking forward. Her honey-blond hair danced luxuriously.

It was the golden girl, her outfit as risqué as ever. Behind her was a steel giant. Deus Ex Machina had merged back together, and it was the one who’d punched Kaito.

Her rose eyes flickered as Jeanne de Rais looked down on Kaito Sena. When she spoke, her voice was cold.

“As the one who chose Izabella Vicker as my evangelist, getting to the bottom of her transfiguration is my duty. Sorry for butting in just when you worked up your resolve, but I’m gonna need you to back down now. This one’s mine.”

Then Jeanne turned to face Izabella and looked down on her transformed, monstrous form.

After slightly narrowing her eyes, Jeanne raised an arm. The steel giant squared off in response.

Spiderweb cracks splintered in the ice beneath its feet. Her voice dispassionate, Jeanne went on.

“Granting her death will be my responsibility. Arrogantly, selfishly, and self-righteously shall I lower the curtain on her life… No, my apologies. Allow me to correct myself, that I may speak the untarnished truth. Granting her death will be my privilege.”

Jeanne spoke with imposing dignity. Izabella offered no reply. Blood and drool dribbled from her lips, and she receded backward, as though on high guard. Jeanne watched over her calmly.

Then, eventually, the corners of her lips curled up into something resembling a smile.

“It seems the stories were true… First loves just ain’t meant to be.”

The next moment, Izabella dashed forward like a lion.

When she did, a steel fist crashed hard into her side.

Kaito watched over the state of the battle, still swaddled in Hina’s arms. Lute opened his mouth in bewilderment, and Elisabeth crossed her arms. However, the affair before them could barely even be described as a battle.

To be more precise, it was a beatdown.

That was just how powerful Deus Ex Machina was after returning to one body.

“I suspected as much. You didn’t need to consume something like that to attain power, li’l miss.”

Jeanne began talking to Izabella. While she did, the steel giant continued mercilessly swinging its fists.

Even if they tore or were sliced, Izabella’s limbs and torso would quickly regenerate. Because of that fact, the steel giant narrowed down its attack to blunt strikes. Its fist carved a straight arc through the air. Its offensive options may have been limited, but its movements surpassed the perception of man and beast alike. Unable to avoid the strike, Izabella was dashed hard against the cold ground.

The subsequent blow crushed her body. Her bones writhed, trying to return to their original positions. As they did, her flesh loudly burst. The regeneration had been too much for her, and her ribs had popped out through her back like springs.

Lute’s lupine snout scrunched up. Unable to take it anymore, he averted his eyes.

Kaito, Hina, and Elisabeth were silent as they watched the one-sided beatdown.

“Gah… Ahhh… Argh… Geh…”

Izabella violently retched. Blood and countless chunks of flesh spilled out onto the ice. For the first time, Izabella looked afraid. She dragged her broken legs along as she tried to put distance between herself and Jeanne. Jeanne gracefully approached the fleeing Izabella, steel giant in tow.

Then, with an almost terrifying calmness, she continued talking.

“Divided as they were from the titan, miss, you once managed to reach me through Bandersnatch and Gargantua. And as you were before, you would have remained composed even in the face of Deus Ex Machina’s parts combined. So what’s this sorry shit? I told you not to go, didn’t I?”

“Graaaaaaaaaah, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Jeanne received a low, terrified roar in reply. Her words didn’t seem to have reached Izabella.

Jeanne’s rose eyes narrowed just a hair.

Izabella’s entire body undulated. Her flesh was rapidly expanding.

Muscle fibers began wrapping around her still-exposed ribs. When they were finished, they’d formed sets of winglike, fleshy protrusions. Her body’s damage was forcibly being compensated for, but it was impossible to completely negate the wounds from the blows she’d received.

Izabella drew back even farther. Even while she was retreating, her movements took on a frailer quality to them.

Jeanne gazed expressionlessly at the veritable wounded animal before her. When she whispered next, her voice sounded truly young.

“…I told you.”

“Gah, ah, ahhh, grahhhhhhhhhhhhh, gyah!”

Izabella recklessly leaped at the giant only to be brushed away like a flea for her troubles. The arc she painted through the air on her way to the icy ground was almost comical. Bones and flesh writhed beneath her skin once more. However, her regeneration was growing more and more chaotic. Strange convulsions ran all across her body.

Izabella managed to lift herself off the ground, enduring no small amount of pain as she did. She looked ready to leap again.

Jeanne spoke coolly, directing her words at Izabella’s trembling back.

“I think that’s enough, little lady. Just submit to your pitiful, tragic rest.”

“Gah, ah… Gaaaaaaaah!”

Izabella let out a meaningless moan. Jeanne opened her mouth. Before she could say anything, though, she showed a rare moment of hesitation. After closing her mouth and opening it again, the whisper seemed to practically spill unbidden from her lips.

“You are a leader, though perhaps only in name, no?”

When it did, Izabella stopped in her tracks. Her silver hair violently shook as she suddenly turned to look over her shoulder.

When she did, she focused her blue and purple eyes on Jeanne, just as she had once before.

“Ms.…Izabella?”

“Izabella…”

Kaito and Hina both reflexively called out her name. She gave no reply. However, the light of reason had faintly made its way back into her eyes. It was fleeting, though, and ephemeral. She was on the verge of being ruled by nothing more than her base animalistic instincts of pain and starvation and the fear of death. Her face morphed unattractively back and forth.

From senseless beast to human, from human to beast.

Once her internal battle had finished, Izabella’s trembling legs set into motion. She sat down in place.

Her silver hair gently sagged as she bowed her head and went motionless.

It was as though she was asking that they cut off her head and be done with it.

“Impossible… How can this be? How can she retain her sanity even after being transfigured so?”

Elisabeth’s voice was filled with disbelief. Her words echoed Kaito’s sentiments as well.

Jeanne remained silent. Her rose eyes, though, opened wide in what could only be described as bafflement. She seldom showed anywhere close to that much emotion. The next moment, her eyes rapidly set into motion.

She cast her gaze away from Izabella, focusing it on the Grave Keeper with such intensity that sparks seemed likely to start flying out.

The scarlet-clad girl, for her part, replied to the hostile stare with a warm smile.

Seemingly having come to understand something by that, Jeanne nodded.

“I see. So shit was weird from the start, huh?”

That’s right… Now that I think about it, the signs were there.

As Jeanne spoke, Kaito realized something. All the transformed people they’d seen had had their eyes engorged, congested with blood and sometimes even ruptured. Yet, Izabella’s eyes had been just as beautiful as ever.

Coming from someone who knew what she’d looked like originally, Kaito felt the state of her transformation had seemed near-absolute. In truth, though, the degree to which she’d been transformed was probably comparatively lighter. In all likelihood, the paladins on the verge of death had had their skin melting off beneath their armor.

Kaito tumbled out of Hina’s arms. He unconsciously covered his mouth.

Was it because Izabella resisted? Or…did the Church do that intentionally? Either way, she must not have eaten much of the demon meat.

But in the end, what difference did that make? The fact that she was beyond saving remained unchanged.

That was what the rational part of his brain determined. At the same time, however, a wave of discomfort ran over him.

She…should be, but… There’s something off about Jeanne.

There could be little doubt that the golden Torture Princess was even more rational than Kaito was. At the moment, though, she had completely laid off the attack. She merely blinked, her rose eyes flashing.

“…This falls outside my expectations. But not yours, I suppose?”

Jeanne continued staring at the Grave Keeper as she murmured. The young girl offered no reply, instead just continuing to smile her perfectly unnatural smile. Her gaze was affectionate, so much so that it evoked the image of a saint. It was an expression one would hardly expect to come from the one who’d birthed this hellish situation.

Jeanne turned back toward Izabella once more. Her whispered voice had a rare tone of bewilderment to it.

“It seems that I do have the power to save you, little lady.”

“What?!”

Kaito couldn’t stop himself from letting out a shout. As he did, Deus Ex Machina moved. Despite its considerable mass, it gave off no noise or presence as it advanced.

And then the giant ruthlessly crushed Izabella.

“W-wait, you, you just said you could save her! You said you can save her, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I can save her. And this is a necessary step in doing so.”

After returning to his senses, Kaito shouted out yet again, to which Jeanne replied coolly. However, it certainly didn’t seem that way to him.

Deus Ex Machina slowly lifted its fist. Unsurprisingly, Izabella’s body was almost completely crushed. She was just barely breathing, but now it was even harder to imagine her ever getting back to normal.

“Allow me to reiterate myself. This is sufficient. The bits I smashed weren’t necessary, see?”

“Unnecessary?”

“Now, all I have to do is remove them.”

Kaito asked his question in an uneasy tone, but Jeanne replied with conviction. His reaction was one of blank shock.

If Jeanne did that, Izabella would definitely die. After all, she would end up losing over half her body. But Jeanne unconcernedly laid out a means by which to preserve Izabella’s life.

“Then we can do our best to supplement the places where the demon meat set its roots in with parts from Deus Ex Machina.”

“Wait, is that even possible?”

“It is. They’re weapons designed for combat, but they can alter their forms as they please. They can even act as human organs. However, in doing so, we would lose access to a powerful weapon.”

Kaito’s eyes went wide in comprehension. Unlike Elisabeth, who summoned her torture devices each time, Jeanne used Deus Ex Machina as a more conventional weapon. Whether or not someone could mold the mana drifting around in higher dimensions into a form suitable for combat depended heavily on their inherent nature, after all.

Deus Ex Machina was designed to circumvent that restriction. If we lose it, the strength at our disposal will invariably suffer. But…

Kaito looked over at Izabella’s crushed body. Then he turned his gaze to the Grave Keeper, who was looking at Jeanne like a shepherd watching over a lost lamb. Kaito suddenly recalled the inscrutable declarations she’d made.

“For the sake of the world, for the sake of the people, our revered Saint fell into slumber and shed tears of blood! That is what flows through the roots of the Church—her unrewarded love, her noble self-sacrifice! In the name of faith, in the name of the world, she cast herself aside! And what could that be but the most desirable trait possible for those chosen to possess! I have sacrificed everything, discarded even my ego! Can you, the chosen ones, say the same?

“Please, show me tragic devotion befitting the favor you’ve received! Show it to me, if you’d be so kind!”

Is this what she was talking about?

It would appear that the Grave Keeper was asking them to demonstrate their devotion by sacrificing Deus Ex Machina to save Izabella. However, there were still mysteries left to solve. For example, the Grave Keeper had said that she no longer had any intention of fighting them. In other words, she shouldn’t have had any reason to want to whittle away the Torture Princess’s strength. If that was the case, then, why was she doing it?

What was the Grave Keeper’s goal? As that question rattled around in Kaito’s head, though, he was suddenly interrupted.

“What to do; what to do?”

A distracted murmur echoed out. Kaito’s eyes went wide.

Of all the things she could be doing, Jeanne was standing before Izabella’s crushed frame with her arms casually folded. Her words and demeanor made no sense to Kaito. In his mind, there was only one logical path to take.

His voice grew rough as he pointed at Izabella’s dying body.

“What the hell are you talking about?! What is there to think about? You can save her, can’t you?!”

“Indeed. I can save her.”

“You said she was your first love, didn’t you?!”

Kaito’s scream was so forceful, he risked damaging his throat. As far as he was concerned, the things Jeanne was saying were unforgivable. She had had nothing, and now she’d finally found someone precious to her. Choosing to cast her aside was a choice he refused to get behind.

He refused to approve of it. Hell, he didn’t even want to try to understand it.

There’s no way—not that!

A beast-like growl slipped from Kaito’s mouth, to which Jeanne replied with an unfalteringly calm gaze.

When she spoke, her voice was just as calm.

“Allow me to ask you a question, then, mister. Is that deed truly more worthy than bringing about salvation?”

The moment she did, an answer burst forth from Kaito’s brain, one that ran in stark contrast to his emotions.

It wasn’t.

There was no person so valuable that saving them was more important than the entire world. That fact was the same as it had ever been. There were no exceptions. All he had to do was look over his shoulder at the corpses he’d piled up. Giving special treatment to a single person would be wrong. And right now, the world’s fate hung in the balance. Now was no time to complain or nitpick. They simply needed to do what needed to be done. That was the only correct answer.

You should know that, Kaito Sena.

Yeah, I know. I know all too well. THAT’S WHY I DON’T KNOW, GODDAMMIT!

“Screw you. Shut up.”

Kaito violently repudiated the correct answer he’d arrived at. Jeanne blinked. Kaito’s reply had hardly constituted an answer. Yet, in a way, it had conveyed everything.

His composure fracturing, Kaito racked his brain.

Jeanne, Elisabeth, they’re all the same. All they can come up with are correct answers.

Elisabeth, the raven-haired Torture Princess, showed no signs of bearing regrets, nor did she ever try to cast aside her sins. But what about Jeanne?

If she did bear regrets, what would she be left with after the world was saved?

If she won’t have anything left, then…

…then at that point, what had she really even saved?

That instant, a shout exploded from Kaito’s lungs.

“Don’t listen to me!”

“…Pardon?”

“Don’t listen to anyone! Think about it yourself! Think about it yourself, all on your own! Don’t let anyone else decide for you what is and isn’t more precious than the world! You have to choose; you have to make the decision! Dammit, you, you’re not thinking at all!”

“You’re saying rather strange things, mister. What are you suggesting it is that I’m not thinking about?”

“You can’t seriously tell me you paid a single thought to whether you’d regret it or not!”

Upon hearing Kaito’s accusation, Jeanne cocked her head to the side. It was faint, but her lack of expression started crumbling a little.

She blinked as she replied, her voice filled with utter astonishment.

“Whether I would regret it or not? That don’t matter for shit.”

“Like hell it doesn’t! And the moment you couldn’t immediately say that you wouldn’t proves it, goddammit! You’re the one who brought up first love, so don’t you dare pretend you’re some robot who doesn’t know what emotions—Oh, right, this world doesn’t have robots… Anyway, don’t talk like you’re pretending you don’t have feelings! Dammit, how can you be so…how can you be such a…?”

Kaito was even more dumbfounded than Jeanne was. Unable to find the words he was looking for, he stomped his foot on the ground. Then he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

The words he finally found were equal parts earnest and ill-fitting.

“How can you be such an idiot?”

“I see. How nonsensical. However, this does mark the first time anyone has ever asked me that.”

Jeanne’s whisper was quiet and subdued. She looked back over at Izabella. The convulsions running across her body were growing weaker and weaker. Yet, Jeanne refused to move, as though she were frozen solid. The heavy silence persisted.

Kaito was on the verge of wringing more words out of himself.

Before he could, though, Jeanne hesitatingly opened her mouth, then closed it again. After repeating that process a few times, she finally managed to get the words out.

“What do you think, miss, Torture Princess Elisabeth Le Fanu?”

The question had an almost desperate ring to it. Likely expecting words of rebuke, Jeanne elaborated on her inquiry to the black Torture Princess, the woman cut from the same cloth as herself.

“You consider all equally. You bear heavy sins and will someday burn at the stake for them. You refuse to betray those you’ve killed, and you obstinately continue your life as an arrogant, honest sinner. If it were you—?”

“Hell if I know. Silence. I’m tired of listening to you.”

The reply came in three curt remarks.

Furthermore, it came from a location that nobody had expected.

Everyone present turned to look. Lute, in particular, gave a heavy gasp.

Elisabeth Le Fanu was positioned in midair. Facing her target, she was holding her sword aloft.

On the other end of her sword stood the Grave Keeper, whose scarlet robe fluttered as she looked up at the Torture Princess aiming for her.

Everyone felt as though time had frozen over. The sinner and the zealot exchanged a meaningful stare.

The Grave Keeper could have easily given orders to the paladins, who were still kneeling to the side. However, she persisted in her silence. The crimson blade drew toward the pale neck, almost as if the two were destined to meet.

The moment before the sword reached its target, the Grave Keeper spoke as though in prayer.

“‘You are free to act as you will. But pray that God shall be your salvation. For the beginning, the middle, and the end all lie in the palm of His hand.’”

Her quiet, hopeful smile had never left her face.

As the Grave Keeper spoke to her killer, her expression was steeped in heartfelt affection.

“Hallelujah.”

And with that, Elisabeth’s blade sliced through her young neck. Blood surged. The Grave Keeper’s round little head went flying through the air. It then rolled along the ground, eventually coming to a stop still draped in its scarlet hood. A pool of blood quietly gathered.

The Grave Keeper had been killed before their very eyes, and she hadn’t so much as put up a fight.

The paladins didn’t move. The way they refrained from counterattacking implied that they’d been given orders not to beforehand. Instead, they stood up in unison and raised their arms horizontally over their chests.

Turning to face the Grave Keeper’s corpse, they bowed. Their postures seemed to be ones of mourning.

Suddenly, Kaito arrived at a hypothesis. The Grave Keeper’s escorts seemed to have had a relatively high compatibility with the demon meat. Maybe that was because they’d willingly chosen to consume the meat and carefully tuned their portions.

No matter what kind of person they are, anyone with a strong will will inevitably find admirers.

Even if that person harbored nothing but madness.

Just so long as their conviction was unshakable.

“Tch, how ghastly. ’Tis my first victory to ever be so irksome.”

Elisabeth landed on the ground unopposed. She clicked her tongue in dissatisfaction.

A violent wave of confusion washed over Kaito. The Grave Keeper had died, and she hadn’t even tried to defend herself. And she’d probably even told the paladins not to retaliate. But why?

He had no idea what she’d been trying to accomplish.

Should we really be playing along with the Grave Keeper’s scheme like this?

Plagued by his misgivings, Kaito turned to look back at Jeanne.

She still hadn’t made her decision. Instead, she was looking at Elisabeth in supplication.

Elisabeth dispelled her sword and began walking. It didn’t look as though she intended to give Jeanne any replies past the three she already had. The black Torture Princess passed by the golden Torture Princess.

Suddenly, though, Elisabeth came to a stop. Still facing forward, she gave a quiet murmur.

“’Twere it I, I would ask no one. And if any dared tell me what to do, I’d lend them no ear.”

“…”

“Yet, ask you did. I obtained power by killing people as they wailed and screamed. You obtained power by killing the willing. One part the same, one part different—not that I was informed, at any rate. In truth, I find it unpleasant that such a woman would declare herself Torture Princess. That is what I say to you, Jeanne de Rais, the saint, the whore, and the maiden of salvation.”

Jeanne didn’t respond. Only Elisabeth’s eyes moved as she gazed at her in profile.

When Elisabeth spoke next, her voice was cold beyond belief.

“Do as you please. ’Twere it I, I would kill her. But you are not I. And the burden of your choice shall be yours alone to shoulder. But bear no conceits—saving the world and destroying it are but mere matters of personal selfishness.”

“…It would seem both my options are cruel. But damn, this one’s a doozy.”

Jeanne’s voice was quiet and subdued. The ebony Torture Princess resumed walking, leaving her behind.

Elisabeth left Kaito and the others behind as well as she headed toward the Butcher. Kaito hurriedly grabbed Hina by the hand and followed behind. After looking around restlessly, Lute joined them, too.

As they ran, Kaito cast a fleeting glance backward.

Only Jeanne and Izabella remained atop the ice.

Alone, the golden Torture Princess gazed down upon the dying woman.

She gazed down upon the person who, by all rights, she should let die.

She gazed down upon the first woman she’d ever loved.

“I’ll…”

Jeanne’s whisper came out hoarse. Then her head flopped to the side.

For the first time, her expressionless visage shattered. With a perplexed look on her face, she let out a childlike whisper.

“…I…will?”

And then Jeanne de Rais,

the saint, the whore, and the man-made maiden of salvation,

made her choice.