Hataraku Maou-sama! - Volume 10 - Chapter 3

THE DEVIL AND THE HERO WITNESS ENTE ISLA’S TRANSFORMATION 
“Hey, so was that guy always that strong, or…?” 
Raguel, decked out in his usual Afro and punk-chic outfit, eyed Emilia and Alciel duking it out from a high hill on the outskirts of Heavensky. What he saw surprised him. 
“I think I remember seeing you kick his ass over in Tokyo Tower, Gabe…” 
“Aww, that’s just because it was in Japan,” Gabriel lethargically replied. “The demonic force he had back there wasn’t anything like he can tap over here, you know? That was all cobbled together by you-know-who when she wasn’t busy feeding it to Chiho Sasaki.” 
“You don’t think Emilia is going easy on him?” 
“Hmm?” Gabriel turned toward another voice, belonging to a large man in red armor accompanied by a small boy. 
“The combined powers of Emilia and the Yesod were enough to topple you, were they not, Gabriel? If she is fighting on an even keel with a demon of such a level, what could that possibly mean?” 
“Ooh, you don’t have to scowl at me like that, Camael. Someone’s still a little testy about earlier, huh?” 
“You have demonstrated a severe lack of follow-through in the past,” Camael said, the frustration clear in his voice. “I worry that you are considering this mission complete before its time.” 
“Wow, talk about trust issues,” Gabriel deadpanned, sizing up the expressionless man in the armor. Camael responded by looking down at Erone, the boy next to him. 
“Imperfect as she may be, Emilia is the ‘latent force’ of a Sephirah child. You know as well as I do that such power cannot be treated lightly.” 
“Ooh, you’d know all about what kinda power that is, huh? ’Specially given how thoroughly Satan whipped you a bit ago.” 
“…You…” 
Camael glared at the unflappably flippant Gabriel, even though he knew it would do nothing to stop him. 
“…Well, either way, there’s no chance in hell that Emilia’s gonna lose,” Gabriel went on. “And if it looks like she will, maybe it’s a bit early, but we can always zoom in and help out, right? I’m not blind, y’know. We’ll make contact with her once Alciel and the Malebranche tire her out enough. That’s the plan, right?” 
“Yeah,” Raguel said with a sigh, “but d’you think that’s gonna happen anytime soon? How long have they been at it, anyway?” 
“A little over ten hours,” Camael balefully replied. 
That was, indeed, how much time had passed since the battle began. For a duel—even one between two such powerful warriors—it was taking a remarkably long time, and it was happening nonstop and at full force. 
“Well, what’s the big deal, guys? Just let ’er do what she wants. I know you wanna move things along a little more, but if you panic and botch the landing, you’ll wind up wasting your life, mm-kay? Like Sariel did.” 
“Ah.” 
“…Hmph.” 
Raguel and Camael both frowned in unison, a reaction Gabriel couldn’t help but smile at. 
“So let’s just watch ’n’ wait, guys. One of ’em should tire out before…” 
“!!” 
Suddenly, Erone, by Camael’s side, sharply shook his head. 
“What’s up?” the still-smiling Gabriel asked, picking up on it first. 
“…Mph.” 
“What is it?” 
Camael and Raguel both looked at Erone. He simply kept looking, far off to the south. 
“Something is coming.” 
As Camael and Raguel continued to give the child puzzled looks, Gabriel turned toward Heavensky. He subtly smiled, something the other two angels couldn’t pick up on. 
“What’s coming, Erone, hmm?” 
“Are those…” Erone opened his eyes wide. “…scooters?” 
““Scooter?”” 
“Scooter… Scooter… What was that again? I think I’ve heard that word before…” 
Raguel titled his head and squinted, as Camael searched Erone’s face for an answer. 
“Well, it’s about time…” 
Only Gabriel seemed in control of the situation, now smiling broadly as he gauged the sight of Heavensky before him. 
 
On the well-maintained roads of the capital’s central district, two scooters sailed along at top speed, engines whining. Sadao Maou, in control of his Honta Gyro-Roof, dolefully eyed Heavensky in front of him, currently illuminated by streaks of silver and black darting to and fro above it. 
“What the hell are Suzuno and Albert doing? This is, like, the worst-case scenario, isn’t it?!” 
“Maou! There! Over there! Sister!!” 
Acieth’s agitated voice rang in his ears, thanks to the two-way motorcycle radio he thought to invest in. 
“Yeah, I know! Calm down! Your language skills go to pot when you’re too excited!” 
“Maou! This is enough! I want to fly! The angels, they don’t matter anymore!” 
“I told you, chill out! Heavensky’s huge! We’re not as close to the center as it looks! We’re too far away to get support from her if we need it… Whoa, here it comes!” 
They had arrived at one of the large gates that opened into the nobles’ quarter of the city. It was manned by a large number of knights, and Maou could tell the sight of two scooters from Japan trundling up was unnerving them greatly. It was probably the rear guard from the Phaigan Volunteer Force, and now—with blasts of holy magic and rains of arrows—they were gunning for their rides. 
“Maou! What now?!” 
“Full speed ahead! I ain’t scared of no holy magic!” 
“What?! Scared or no, if it hits you, you hurt!” 
“I’m fine! Just trust Japanese engineering a little, all right? Ahhhhh!!” 
He revved up the engine again and hurtled himself straight into the storm of fire from the force in front of them. “Agh, here goes nothing!” Acieth shouted from behind. 
Arrows and magic bolts pelted the unique full-sized windshield on Maou’s Gyro-Roof. The fiber-reinforced plastic roofs on both of them became dented, warped, pockmarked, and partially melted, but miraculously, they still managed to keep the drivers safe. 
“Ooh, wow!” 
“Boo-yah! Don’t let anyone tell you that ‘made in Japan’ don’t mean anything!” 
And with a shout and another whine from their engines, the two of them were through the guards. The sheer force and noise they generated made the Eight Scarves men instinctively dive for cover, opening the road for them—and any arrows they shot from behind weren’t fast enough to catch up with a Gyro-Roof at full speed. 
To the two of them, though, nothing mattered apart from what happened to the two fighters pitting their titanic strength against each other above them. 
“Alas Ramus! Ashiya! Emi! I’m heeeeeeere!!” 
They were still far off, but now Maou could clearly see Ashiya in demon form up above, trading blows with Emi in half-angel form as she wielded a larger version of her holy sword. 
“Maou! Something behind us!!” 
He glanced at a side mirror. A platoon of the Eight Scarves knights he had just buzzed was now hot on his heels, their horses going at a full gallop. Some of them already had their bows drawn. 
“Chill out, Acieth! Use it now!!” 
“What? But it is only bluff! Will it work?!” 
“We aren’t fighting the Eight Scarves! All we need to do is spook their horses and stop them! Do it!” 
“Okeydokey!” 
From a pocket on her overalls, Acieth took out a thick, red object—a sheaf of evil-dispelling fireworks from the village she had rocketed out of. 
“Good thing I have lighter… Hyaaaaahh!!” 
Acieth’s scream of joy as she set off the fireworks with her kitchen lighter pounded against Maou’s eardrums—but not half as much as the ensuing explosions that surrounded them. The packet of fireworks, held together by a common fuse, erupted in a serious of explosions. 
“You idiot! What’re you doing?! Throw it! You’re gonna burn yourself!” 
“Hyaaahhhh-koff koff!!!!” 
The coughing, smoke-blinded Acieth tossed the fireworks to the ground behind her. Maou followed it up by taking out a set of fireworks from his own hoodie, lighting it, and throwing it backward. Loud pops and thick smoke filled the air, and for just a moment, he could see horses rearing up in fright on his side mirror. He sped up. 
“Acieth! You okay?” 
“Smoky…koff!!” 
“Okay, great! Whoa, look out, there’s more of ’em up ahead! Honk your horn!” 
“Raaahhhh!!” 
Another volunteer force platoon was on patrol around the intersection of two wide roads in the middle of the central district. Their reaction to Maou and Acieth was just as confused, and just as hostile, as the one before. 
Soon, though, they were stopped in their tracks by an earsplitting whine—the sound of Maou and Acieth both leaning heavily on their scooters’ horn buttons. It was an unfamiliar, offensive sound, and not only did it stun the entire platoon, but the moment they looked toward the source of the noise, they wound up gazing straight into the high beams of their LED headlights. The resulting moment of blindness let Maou zoom past them, leaving another packet of exploding fireworks as a parting gift. 
But they had no time to rest. From another street, a cavalry corps had joined the scene to investigate the furor. It had now nearly caught up with Acieth. 
“Maou! They have the spears! Come from side!” 
“All right! You got any fireworks?” 
“I used them! The rest are in scooter box!” 
“Why’d you use so many at once?! …Hngh!” 
Maou heaved another packet at two mounted soldiers in front of him. Once they were out of the picture, he tossed something else at Acieth. 
“Grab it!!” 
“What is it?!” 
“Spray it into their snouts!!” 
“Huhh? Whooaahh!!” 
Acieth studied the rather large bottle of outdoor insect repellent Maou just handed her. It was the one piece of camping gear that Suzuno and Maou didn’t argue about before purchasing, and the off-label usage he’d just suggested to her was as effective as it was painful. The pungent odor, along with the sensation of being sprayed in the face, made the horses stumble and fall over. 
After she looked through her side mirrors to check that none of the fallen cavalrymen were dead, Acieth let off a low grown. 
“We very mean to horses…” 
“Yeah, well, that’s what they get for using ’em in war,” Maou said. “I think the coast is clear now. Get some more fireworks out of your box.” 
He stopped his Gyro-Roof and opened the rear compartment. It had a small mountain of fireworks inside, along with other travel accessories and Suzuno’s and Albert’s personal belongings. For their current invasion of Heavensky, they had thrown out all the food and water they had brought along—they needed the room for more antipersonnel weaponry. 
This “weaponry,” of course, was pieced together from whatever they could find in the villages around the agricultural district. It wouldn’t be good for anything apart from bluffing. But as Maou saw it, if he actually killed anyone on this operation, it’d leave a bad aftertaste, whether his friends were involved or not. That was the watchword for Maou as he selected his arsenal. 
“Hey, Acieth, make sure you can reach your wooden sword at any time, just in case.” 
“Huh? But I need my arm!” 
“You can throw it if you have to. Just try your best not to hurt anyone.” 
“But why? It is fine, no? I am not sure way of fighting is good…” 
Acieth had a point. They were riding around without helmets, dragging wooden swords behind them, throwing firecrackers all over the place, honking their horns constantly, and blinding people with their high beams. The King of All Demons and the miraculous child of a Sephirah seed were essentially a biker gang. Though, really, most biker gangs in Japan weren’t the kind to be as much of a public nuisance as these guys were. It was almost a shame they hadn’t equipped their scooters with exhaust whistle tips and horns that played the national anthem. 
“We’re just getting started, man!” Maou exclaimed. “The closer we get to the keep, the harder it’ll be to shake ’em off. That’s what this is for.” 
The next thing out of his scooter’s compartment was a corked bottle that contained some sort of viscous liquid and had firecrackers wrapped around it. A piece of paper, kept in place by the cork, served as a fuse. As an improvised Molotov cocktail, it was a commendable piece of work. 
“Are you serious?” Acieth wearily said. 
“Yeah!” Maou countered. “At least until we regroup with those two guys up there and Suzuno, wherever the hell she is! If it gets to the point where you have to start fightin’, I’m probably screwed, so I really wanna save that for when we absolutely need it. Your powers make too much of a racket, y’know?” 
“…Oh.” 
Maou’s decision, after they just had their little reckless-driving and vehicular-assault parade, was less than convincing to Acieth’s ears. But it didn’t matter. Maou liked the classical biker-gang style, and he was sticking to it. 
“Suzuno…come back and stop Maou… This, it is awful…” 
She listlessly muttered to herself as she relunctantly stuffed fireworks into her pockets. 
 
“…?” 
As she deflected what had to be the eight thousandth claw slash from Alciel, Emilia heard an odd sound. A high-pitched whine that was coming closer. Alciel, picking up on it, too, stopped attacking and looked down. It was a very familiar sound to them—but one they’d normally never hear on this world. 
“Is that…” 
There were two of them, running along at breakneck speeds in front of the volunteer force men chasing them. 
““…a pair of pizza delivery scooters?!”” Emilia and Alciel both shouted. 
That it was. It was a pair of roofed scooters, often used by pizza shops to bring the goods to customers in Japan. 
“Could…could that be…?” 
The battle with Alciel, with no apparent end in sight, was starting to fatigue Emilia. She was clinging to hope that the Devil King would appear sometime, but there were moments when she had doubted it’d ever happen, that it was all wishful thinking on Alciel’s part. If he was coming, she would’ve picked up on the presumably massive amount of dark power he’d be wielding, but she had sniffed out nothing. If Maou was showing up, she had no idea how he’d make it here. 
“How…how ridiculous can you get…?” 
Did he manage to get that license? And for that matter, why was he crashing the Hero and Great Demon General’s to-the-death confrontation with that, of all things? 
There were two scooters hurtling forward down there, the other one likely manned by either Suzuno or Urushihara. Emilia could tell they were headed straight for the keep. It made her want to smile, but her face quickly stiffened. 
“Wh-what’s that…?” 
The volunteer force men below them had noticed the scooters. It sent them into a frenzy, and already she could see many of them ready their attacks. Yet the two scooters plowed on, never braking or flinching. As they should. If they slowed down, they would be overwhelmed. 
“L-look…” 
Alciel floated agape in the air. He had forgotten all about attacking, once he realized the truth. 
The pair of scooters was leading what must have been the entirety of the royal force straight into the keep. 
“Heyyyy!! Come on! I want give up already!! Let me use power!” 
Amid the earth and air-trembling rumble, Maou could hear the half-sobbing voice of Acieth through his headset. He couldn’t do much for her at the moment. 
“Just shut up and throw some firecrackers!” 
“They not work anymore!” she countered. “They know them now! And your bomb, super no good, Maou!” 
“We’ve made it this far! No turning back now! If we stop here, those hordes are gonna run right over us and our scooters! If you don’t feel like getting turned into ground Acieth and scooter parts, keep going!!” 
To his side, Maou could see Acieth looking behind her, eyes welling up from the intense wind. His own side mirrors told the whole story—a literal horde. He gritted his teeth. 
“I tell you, I fly, it will be okay!” 
“If we fly outta here, they’re gonna trash our scooters! Suzuno’ll beat the crap out of me once she finds out! Plus, I’m totally keeping Mobile Dullahan III once I get back! I’m not gonna let these freaks smash it up!” 
“Maou! Who cares?!” 
They were now going at breakneck speed, shooting across the broad path that led straight to the keep, a motley rabble of knights, horsemen, and random hangers-on behind them. The volunteer force troops at the forefront, undaunted by Maou’s delinquent biker behavior, were now leading the Eight Scarves cavalry and infantry who didn’t join the volunteers, as well as more than a few Malebranche warriors, united against a common enemy. As a royal force, it was lacking any coherent leadership, and now they were almost at the massive gate that circled the keep. 
“Maou! Ahead! Bald man and demons!!” 
Olba, Farfarello, and Barbariccia were already enjoying a front-row view of the battle between Emilia and Alciel by the time Maou crashed into the scene. But there was no braking now—the wolves behind them wouldn’t slow down. They’d wind up like a lone jackrabbit against a thundering horde of bison, stampeding across the prairie. 
“They don’t matter! Full speed ahead! We’re plowing right into the castle!!” 
“Oh, no waaaaaay!!” 
Ignoring Acieth’s protests, Maou pushed the throttle even harder, letting off a particularly large chunk of firecrackers as a sort of grand finale. The horn button was now permanently activated, thanks to a bit of waterproof camping tape, and his LED lantern (which he wasn’t expecting to use any longer) had its emergency siren activated as he lobbed it directly at the volunteer force men awaiting him up ahead. 
It was then that Olba, Farfarello, and Barbariccia finally noticed who was leading this ragtag royal army. 
“S-Satan? The Devil King?!” 
“My liege?!” 
“What?! His Demonic Highness?!” 
“Yo, guys! I’m kinda busy, so laaaaaterrrrr!!” 
He careened past them all, giving himself barely enough time to recognize their faces. The two scooters went right under Olba, who was floating several feet in the air. The resulting gust made his robes flap upward in the wind, exposing the undergarments of the great Church betrayer for all of the grand capital of Efzahan to see. 
“Man, I did not like what I saw just now, but whatever! Acieth! Keep your speed up! I’m gonna open up your storage box and throw everything out of it!” 
“I give up! Whatever you saaaaaaay!!” 
Taking position a little behind Acieth, Maou used the edge of his wooden sword to undo the pre-loosened latch on the box and jab at the handle. In a moment, the lid was open. It contained a stash of Maou’s handmade Molotov cocktails—and thanks to the gasoline he’d saved after Albert’s arrival, he had a ton to work with. In a moment, they shattered against the ground, sending plumes of fuel onto the street. 
Then he lit a firecracker and tossed it behind him. 
“Hyaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh?!” 
“Whoa! Ow, ow, ow, ow! Geez, it actually lit that?!” 
Maou seemed honestly surprised as the gasoline erupted in a smoky explosion behind him. The wave of heat seared Maou, as well as ignited the firecrackers both he and Acieth had in their hands. 
“Ow! Owwww! Hot, hot, hot, hot!” 
The blast had quite literally lit a fire under the scooters, but they pressed on past the smoke, the flames, and the general chaos. The light show pushed them past Olba’s main volunteer force guard, through the main gate, and safely into Heavensky Keep grounds. 
For just a moment, it was too much for Olba and his two demon companions to comprehend. And that moment was all it took. The volunteers pursuing Maou surged through the gate, as if being pulled inside, and all Olba’s own men could do was stand there blankly and watch. Now the focus wasn’t on Emilia, or Alciel, or Olba and his Malebranche cohorts at all. It was all on Maou, Acieth, and the horde of royal forces as they made a mad rush for the main keep. 
The grounds of Heavensky Keep were fairly extensive—large enough to hold both the Cloud Retreat and the keep itself, as well as some imperial gardens and other administrative buildings. But thanks to all the loud explosions and white smoke, it was clear as day where the two scooters leading this mob were. 
““Oh.”” 
Their voices were devoid of energy—chiefly because the white smoke had stopped right in front of the Cloud Retreat’s gate. 
They could see the vanguard cavalry fall off the drawbridge as they tried to pursue the scooters, or simply smash against the gate’s walls, unable to change formation in time. The foot soldiers behind them, still running at full momentum, were soon falling like dominoes as the traffic jam unfolded. 
It was a sorry scene, but not one that stopped the scooters’ onrush. Soon, white exhaust began to leak out from Cloud Retreat windows, here and there. The whine of two engines could be heard, along with things being smashed up or tossed aside, explosions of unknown causes, people and horses braying in dismay, and all manner of other sounds that formed an everlasting din. You didn’t have to be inside the retreat to know that pandemonium was unfolding in there. 
Everyone had forgotten about Emilia and Alciel’s battle, Emilia and Alciel included. All eyes were focused on the Cloud Retreat, and the biker gang and crazed forces currently laying waste to it. It gave Emilia a chance to notice a slightly brighter sky to the east. Sunrise was coming. 
“…Ah! Oh, no!” a flustered Alciel exclaimed. “The Cloud Retreat… We must do something or…” 
But in another moment, Alciel’s concerns were all in the past. 
The heavens shook, then fell apart. 
“!” 
“Wha…?!!” 
Emilia and Alciel opened their eyes wide in shock. 
The Cloud Retreat, almost equal in majesty to the Heavensky Keep that Efzahan’s emperor ruled the Eastern Island from, was pierced by a dagger of purple light. 
In a moment, it began to crumble. The pillar of light cut through the dark clouds above, and there, for all to see, was a red moon and a blue one, ruling over the night. 
Emilia looked up. Someone was there—just as he had been before. The Devil King Satan, the despot who fled to Earth before she could land that one final blow, was in the air above the broken Heavensky Keep, surveying the landscape with the two moons behind him. 
But not everything was the same as it was on that fateful day. Satan was the Devil King still, yet not the Devil King of yore. The overwhelming demonic force was vintage Satan, through and through. But his exterior was still Sadao Maou, tireless fast-food jockey from Sasazuka. 
The Devil King leisurely floated down to Emilia and Alciel, enjoying the eyes of everyone in the city upon him. 
“…My liege!” 
Alciel fell to his knees, overcome with emotion as he greeted his leader once more. 
Emilia simply stood there, frozen. Sadao Maou was right there—the same Maou who kept giving her lip on Earth, who pretended to be what he wasn’t, who worked hard every day of his life, who was beloved by the humans around him—who loved the humans back. The most incomprehensible personification of evil in existence. 
Then, as if angling for this exact moment, the eastern mountain ridge on the horizon let pass the first arrows of daylight, as strong as the purple streak that still extended from the keep. The dark night took its leave, as if celebrating the advent of its king—and the sun quickly vanquished it for good, welcoming the master of all demons to its domain. 
And watching all this unfold, Emilia couldn’t help but think: Why couldn’t she detect such a massive amount of demonic force until right now? A pity that Sadao Maou—while the quintessential “nice guy”—wasn’t nice enough to tell her. 
“Ugh, I swear,” he said, his voice just as whiny and sullen as usual. “I screw up my license, I owe Suzuno a crapload of money, I take an entire week off work, so I’m in a major cash crunch, I’m gonna have to cover, like, six people’s shifts to repay the favor… When it rains, it pours, huh?” 
There was nothing at all demonic about his words—and perhaps why they sounded so comforting to Emilia. 
“Once we’re back, I’m gonna have a word with all of you guys, got it? Also, for all of next month, I don’t wanna hear any bitchin’ about what I decide to do, and I don’t care what you think about it. I don’t care how many times it takes; I’m gonna get that damn license. And I’m gonna have my own scooter, too!” 
“…As you wish, my liege.” Alciel, still kneeling, hung his head low. Then: 
“…I’m sorry to put all this on you.” 
Emilia simply blurted it out. It was far easier for her than she expected. But: 
“What? Dude, Emi, what were they feedin’ you in your prison cell?” 
Maou winced at the sight of a fully dejected Emilia, holy sword still in hand. 
“Wh-what is it?” 
“Nobody’s controlling you or anything, yeah? You’re acting so obedient. It’s freaking me out.” 
“…” 
Emilia fell silent. Normally this would be where she’d blow her top, but she just couldn’t summon the energy. 
“Even I’m like that sometimes,” she plainly replied, admitting the truth. “I’m not expecting you to forgive me…but if we can all make it back to Japan, I’ve got something I really need to apologize for.” 
“Oh…kay? Uh, Ashiya, is something up with Emi, or…?” 
Maou, holding enough demonic force to make all of Ente Isla prostrate themselves before his mighty figure, looked honestly spooked as he sized Emilia up. 
“Perhaps, Your Demonic Highness. But…during this unplanned excursion into Ente Isla, I believe both Emilia and myself have experienced a great deal of things. I would advise you to save your judgment of her sanity for after we return to safe harbor and discuss matters in depth. Both she and I have expended a great deal in the previous battle.” 
“…All right.” 
The explanation grabbed Maou’s attention. He raised his head, looked down upon the half-ruined Cloud Retreat, and spoke. 
“Hey! Get up here!” 
Emilia and Alciel turned toward where he faced. From the thin bar of light, they could see something slowly emerge. The glare from the mix of purple and sunlight made it hard to discern the figure’s face, but the moment she spotted the large man being held from his back, Emilia’s heart almost exploded in her chest. 
“Emi, I’m not expecting you to forgive me for everything. Not at this point. But maybe I can make up for it a little by giving you back something I found—something important to you. ’Course, I just kinda stumbled upon him—I didn’t, like, do anything for him. And he just happened to be in there, so I figured, hey.” 
“…Ah,” came the voice directly from Emilia’s soul. 
He must have been a decent amount older from when she’d last seen him. But the stout body, the relaxed expression… There was no way she couldn’t recognize him. No way she could forget him. In an instant, her holy sword disappeared into thin air, and her open arms embraced the body as it was presented to her by the smaller figure below. She could feel his body heat, his pulse—and Emilia’s own pulse quickened. 
He felt so light to her. The Emilia Justina of today was sturdy (and holy magic–infused) enough that being slammed against a castle roof by a Great Demon General bothered her as much as getting flicked on the tip of her nose. She was no longer a clueless young girl who cried over every little thing; but now she didn’t bother holding the tears back. 
Hearing it in words didn’t make it feel real to her. It didn’t, and that was why she found it so difficult to reach an answer. But now that the conclusion was in her arms, Emilia knew. She wasn’t any sort of Hero at all. 
“Fa…ther…” 
The man, his breathing shallow but relaxed as he slept, was in the prime of his life, his face now visible in the purple light. Her father—the man she never thought she’d see again—was alive and and in her embrace. That alone made Emilia feel truly fulfilled inside, as if all the battles in her life were over. 
She was no bastion of light, fighting for all that was Good and Just. She was Emilia, the farmer’s daughter who simply wanted her father back. 
“I…I’m not dreaming…” 
She felt her heart slow down, as if the chains of self-loathing binding it tight had been released. 
“No, you sure ain’t. So could you put up a barrier for him already, man? And, Ashiya, can you maybe give the guy a little breathing space?” 
“Uh…” 
“Hmm? Oh. Yes, my liege.” 
“Oh, um, ummm, right. Oof!” 
Alciel, his body still exuding the kind of demonic force that would kill most humans, took a step back. Emilia, snapping out of her daze, wiped her eyes as she enveloped her father, Nord, in a barrier of holy magic. 
“But that’s not everything yet. Is Alas Ramus all right?” 
“…Of course,” Emilia said, still wiping the tears. “She was bursting with energy when we were fighting Alciel, and… Hmm? What was that?” 
She blinked at the sudden outburst from the child in her mind. 
“Wh-what? All right, all right. Hooph!” 
The frantic urging made Emilia summon her—this time as Alas Ramus, not as her sword. The child of Yesod promptly turned an eye to the relatively small figure underneath Nord’s body. 
“Daddy!” 
“Yo, Alas Ramus.” 
The sight of his daughter in good spirits made Maou’s face soften. 
“I brought someone here I think you’ll probably wanna say hello to.” 
“…Okay,” she said with a nod, already knowing who it was. Soon, they were at each other’s side. 
“Hi, A-ceth!” 
At that moment, the tower of light spouting from the Cloud Retreat faded into thin air. Their faces were now illuminated by the rapidly advancing dawn. 
“My…sister…” 
The sight made both Emilia and Alciel gasp a little. Acieth was clearly more mature, but from the silvery forelocks to the single shock of purple, she was a dead ringer for Alas Ramus. 
“D-Devil King?! Wh-who’s this girl?!” 
“My liege, could that be another…?” 
“A-ceth…” 
“Ooh, boy, long time no see, huh, sis?” 
The two spawn of Sephirah gauged each other—one looking straight ahead, the other turned downward in shame. 
“Yeh!” 
“I very surprised. Sis, you are still baby!” 
“A-ceth so big!” Alas Ramus exclaimed with a smile. 
“…Yeah,” her sister replied, feeling even more self-conscious. 
“A-ceth?” 
“…Hnnh…!!” 
Then Acieth, face still turned down, began to quiver. As they all watched, her face twisted in pain. Then it became overridden with tears. 
“Ahhhh!! My sister!! I wanted see you so baaaaaaadddddd!!” 
The brave facade crumbled all too easily as Acieth’s eyes and nose began to free-flow, her arms tightly clutching Alas Ramus. She sobbed freely, Alas Ramus appreciating the emotion if not all the gunk on her face. 
“Eww! A-ceth all messy!” she said with a sniff. But she didn’t push her away. 
“My siiiiisssterrrrrrr!!!! Waaahhhhh!!!!” 
“A-ceth, don’t cry! Be a good girl!” 
It appeared that Alas Ramus really did play the big-sister role in the family. After all the crying she did at all the mean stuff grown-ups made her do—from wearing dirty diapers to performing the bidding of archangels—there she was, patting her younger sister’s hair, the solid rock to Acieth’s torrential snot-flood. 
“Bwwaaaahhhhhh!!!! I so looooonnnely!!!! Siiiiisssss!!” 
“Uh, Devil King?” 
“My liege, what are we witnessing…?” 
Maou grinned at them both. “Guess that’s two tearful reunions in one day, huh?” 
“Uh…yeah…” 
“If you say so, my liege,” a confused Alciel replied. He and Emilia gauged each other for a moment. They had fought to the death for ten hours straight until a few moments ago, but all that tension was gone now, mere dust in the wind. Now they were back to playing the rules of Shirou Ashiya and Emi Yusa, befuddled and unnerved by the erratic behavior of the demon lord reigning from a one-room Sasazuka apartment. 
“One thing’s for sure: We’re definitely gonna need to sit down and have one hell of a family discussion when we get home.” 
“Uh…yeah…” 
“If you say so, my liege…” 
“Guys, you’re looping on me… Oop.” 
Before he could continue, Maou was interrupted by something that couldn’t have been more out of place in this scene—an ever-so-tiny ringtone. Emilia and Alciel looked around, searching for the source, but their question was answered when Maou fished something out of a pants pocket. 

 

“That’s yours?” Emilia said as she recognized the battered, beaten phone in his hand. It was an old flip type, with the outer side half-melted and the hinge broken, leaving the inner wiring open to the elements. Maou managed to pry it open, revealing a screen just as shattered as everyone expected. But it still took calls. A little corner of the LCD was still lit, and the half-exposed vibration circuit was making the entire phone shake dangerously. 
“Nice, huh?” Maou said, grinning as he showed it to Emilia. “I kinda burned it, shot firecrackers at it, dropped it in a pond… It sort of cracked up when I crashed the scooter in there, too. But how d’you like that? All this screen and shell damage, and all the internal components are just fine. No way your smartphone can do this! Good thing I remembered to charge it.” 
He was still grinning as he pushed the Accept button. Even with the screen bashed in, he found out who was calling pretty fast. 
“What are you doing, you imbecilic Devil King?!!!!” 
The loud griping through the incoming Idea Link battered Maou’s eardrum. It was imposing enough even for Alas Ramus and Acieth to hear. 
“Geez, pipe down. You guys were out screwin’ around for so long, Acieth lost her patience.” 
Alas Ramus’s eyes sparkled. “Ooh, Suzu-Sis?” 
“Do you think we have had it easy, you buffoon? What did you do?! Why is there a massive scrum of fallen volunteer forces in front of the Cloud Retreat?!” 
“Oh, can you see the keep from where you’re at? Well, don’t worry, okay? I got the scooters into just a little bit of a fender-bender, but it’ll be super easy to fix—” 
“Answer me! Is your power back?! Oh, by all that is holy, did you total the scooters?! Have you no respect for the personal property of others, Mao—” 
“Hey, Acieth, here.” 
“Huh? Ah? Oh? Ummm, hello? Suzuno?” 
“Acieth?! Acieth, is that you?!” 
“Yeah, um, umm…” 
Acieth wiped her still-reddened face with her free hand. Then she stuck out her tongue. 
“Um, I felt my sister close to me, and I, uh… Ooh, excited. Very excited.” 
“~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~!!” 
“Suzuno? Suzuno, I not understand you! …Oh, you want Maou? Okay!” 
“Yeah, so there’s the story, I guess.” 
“You guess?!! Devil King, what have you done?!” 
“Eesh, what’s the big deal?” 
Maou looked down. Next to Heavensky Keep lay the Cloud Retreat. It had taken extensive damage from the keep’s rubble in addition to Maou’s rampage, to the point that he could hardly recognize its original structure. 
“Emilia’s father and the Azure Emperor are in there!!” 
“Yeah, I know.” 
“…Hahhhh?!” 
He could almost feel Suzuno’s spittle hitting his ear through the Idea Link. 
“Acieth swapped me out for Nord in there, and I got my demon force back thanks to that.” 
“W-wait! So, so Emilia has seen her father?! But what of the emperor?!” 
“Oh, that old coot? He’s cool. Libicocco’ll bring him over there later. I guess Ashiya had it all arranged that way in advance. So I heard you guys snuck in here or something?” 
“What? Alciel?! This is making no sense to me!” 
It wouldn’t make sense to anyone. 
Maou hadn’t spoken enough with him yet to know the whole story, but he already had a sense of what Alciel, at the Devil King’s side, had told Libicocco. He had ordered most of the Eight Scarves’ forces out of Heavensky, mainly to prevent a large-scale battle with the volunteers set to invade the capital. Such a clash would mean civil war, as well as horrible bloodshed among human and demon—even the emperor might not be spared. Besides, Maou knew from Gabriel that the heavens would be happy as long as Emilia fought and defeated Alciel. 
They didn’t need things to go that far. And Alciel knew that, which was why he hurriedly negotiated with the Azure Emperor to deploy his troops to the hinterlands. This he did with great success, and in remarkably short order. His under-the-table acting skills had a lot to do with that, although not even Maou knew about that quite yet. 
What he did know, however, was that Alciel had a very important reason to take that tactic. A reason why the Great Demon General hesitated to dance exactly to the angels’ script—a screenplay that would end with thousands of Efzahan knights and civilians lost and the very empire thrown out of balance. 
But that would mean— 
“…” 
“What?” Emilia asked when she realized Maou was staring at her. He just shook his head. This was something no human should ever be allowed to know. He turned back to his phone. 
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I’ll have to explain later. Hey, Suzuno? I’ll let you handle the nitty-gritty human-world stuff for me. We’re kinda busy right now. You worked for the Reconciliation Panel, right? I’m sure you can use that old geezer to your advantage just fine. Later!” 
“Ah, Mao—” 
His smoke screen in place, Maou put the phone back in his pocket and looked above him. 
“Was that all of ’em, Ashiya?” 
“I believe so,” the demon replied, nodding as he stood up. “The man in the red armor is new to me, though.” 
“So I let ’em go in Act One, but now it’s time for Act Two, huh?” 
“Indeed. Some among us are growing impatient of this farce.” 
The rest of them followed his gaze, faces grave. Amid the howling winds above Heavensky, there were three figures—all people they had seen many times before, no matter how much they hated to. 
“Garriel…” came the stony word from Alas Ramus, lost in the wind as she patted Acieth’s hair. 
 
Olba, watching Maou and his cohorts from above, had much to be concerned about. This was not at all part of the game plan. He could hear the cries of confusion and terror from the Eight Scarves among his fairly shattered Phaigan Volunteer Force. 
The battle, suddenly screeching to a halt. The towering plume of purple light. And now the Hero and Great Demon General, fighting a duel beyond all human comprehension, were all gathered around a lone man, as if having a family reunion before their eyes. The impromptu royal force that had chased the mysterious pair of vehicles all the way into the Cloud Retreat were no less astounded. 
Why the Devil King Satan was still in his temporary Japanese form was a mystery to Olba, but there was no way they couldn’t have picked up on it. His interference wasn’t in their scenario—but if they came onto the scene, not even Satan himself would live to tell the tale. 
And just as Olba was trying to reassure himself of that, the exact group he hoped to see appeared from the heavens. The two Malebranche holding him down looked up in awe, as did Emilia and Alciel above. No, nothing was over yet. It just meant that they and Emilia had a few more “enemies” to defeat. With their strength, they could wipe out everybody in the keep above, wrapping up everything nice and neat. 
He tried to call out to them. 
“Gabri—” 
“How nice to see you in good health, Olba,” came the cold, sharpened voice behind him. He knew the voice well—and the cunning of the woman who possessed it. “I had known you were in Japan, but your whereabouts were unknown. Imagine my surprise to find you in Efzahan!” 
“Y-you…!” 
“But as happy as I am to be reunited with you, my lord, I am even more filled with sadness. Yes, sadness, for my position demands that I question you about your crimes. The apostasy you have carried out in the midst of your dark, dirty scheming, is something I could never allow myself to ignore.” 
“You,” Farfarello said, spying the voice’s owner from his vantage point next to Olba. “So you arrived here on those…those ‘scooters,’ then?” 
He nodded at the sight the recently appointed Great Demon General had first seen on the roof of Tokyo’s city hall building. 
““Crestia Bell…”” 
Crestia Bell, chief inquisitor of the Church Reconciliation Panel (aka Suzuno Kamazuki, if you asked the gang over in Tokyo), softened her voice. 
“That, I am afraid, was not me. I returned from the Western Island just a moment ago. The riders of those vehicles are up there.” 
“What?” 
Bell gave a glance upward, face tightening in spite for just a moment before she composed herself and faced Farfarello. 
“Malebranche chieftain! For now, just this once, I deliver upon you an order from Crestia Bell, Great Demon General of the New Devil King’s Army.” 
“Wh-what?!” Barbariccia exclaimed, still out of the loop. “A new general?! Farlo, what is she saying?!” 
“Lord Barbariccia,” Farfarello replied, “enough.” 
“B-but…” 
“What is your command, my new general?” 
“B-Bell, what is the meaning of…?” 
She ignored Olba’s grunting voice. 
“Malebranche chieftain, I command you and your forces to obediently accept everything that will happen from this point forward. Do that, and the Devil King Satan will forgive your abuse of authority and restore you to your original position underneath Camio, Devil Regent and proxy of the Devil King.” 
“H-human!” Barbariccia blurted out once more. “You know of Lord Camio?!” 
Farfarello, for his part, sagely nodded. 
“Very well. I will follow every word of your command, Great Demon General.” 
He looked up, gaze sharpened upon the three figures that faced off against the Devil King, their true master. 
“There is no excuse I can make for our foolishness, but it has resulted in betrayal at the hands of Olba and the denizens of heaven. Many are the brethren we have lost as a result. I must accept my punishment for it.” 
“I am glad you understand, Chieftain. May I ask the same of you, Olba?” 
“What are you…?” 
If looks could kill, Olba would have just committed first-degree murder. The shadow of a woman he once knew, the faithful agent of the Church who solemnly performed “that which must be done” against the heretics who turned against her religion, was no longer there. Now she was brimming with confidence, and the resolve behind her strength—one backed by a pride he never knew she had—felt all the more invincible now that it was so close by. 
“What is the meaning of this? What has happened to you…?” 
“What I seek,” Bell quietly replied, “remains the same always, Olba: All I wish for is a world where all peoples can walk the path lit by their faith. A faith filled with peace and justice for all. It just so happens I had to travel to another world to obtain the spiritual strength to achieve it.” 
She looked back up at the confrontation above. If her eyes didn’t deceive her, the giant figure in crimson armor was Camael, the man who crushed the final scrap of faith she had in the god she believed in. The unfamiliar man with the Afro was likely Raguel—Maou and Emilia told her about him. But she didn’t need a second look at the final angel. The large stature, the cheese-eating grin, the I LOVE LA T-shirt—it all spelled Gabriel, the guardian angel of the Yesod Sephirah and a man nobody enjoyed seeing crash their party. 
 
“Yo, guys!” Maou brightly grinned. “Glad to see you bunch of third-rate actors finally showed up.” 
“Ugh.” Raguel scowled. “How many times do you have to get in our way?” 
“Satan… Satan!!” 
And whether Maou was in demon form or not, Camael’s shouting indicated he was about ready to spit fiery lava from his mouth. 
“You better not expect any mercy this time,” Raguel continued. “You may have gotten the better of Camael last time, but we’re on Ente Isla now. The atmosphere is filled with an inexhaustible supply of holy power. You have no chance, Devil King.” 
“Raguel, man, you know you should try actually winning first before you say that. ’Cause you’re gonna be pretty embarrassed if it doesn’t happen, you know? And you know I’ll rub it in your face, too. I’m kinda the demon boss, besides.” 
“Oh, we’ll know real soon how this turns out. It doesn’t look like you’ve got whatever weird strength you beat Camael with, earlier.” 
Maou didn’t take the bait, instead turning his barbs to another target. 
“…So, Gabriel. You gettin’ in this, too?” 
Gabriel, located next to Raguel, crossed his arms and gave a less-than-overjoyed nod. 
“Mmm, if that’s a yes-or-no question, I guess yes?” 
“And I guess I don’t have to ask you…” 
From the moment he laid eyes upon him, it was clear Camael was intent on tearing Maou limb from limb. He lacked the tri-tipped spear from Sasahata North High, but he knew an archangel could be just as jaw-droppingly strong with his fists. 
“We need to keep the peace up in heaven, okay?” Raguel said. “So that’s why we gotta exterminate evil demons like you throughout Ente Isla. And that’s why we can’t have you in our way, Devil King Satan.” 
Maou gave him an indifferent snort. “Third-rate as always, huh, aren’t you guys? Leave that crap to the Hero; she was doin’ a much better job at it earlier. You all got walk-on bit parts compared to her, and what’re you telling me? ‘Exterminate evil demons’? If you wanna rip somebody off here, don’t copy her word for word!” 
“Here he goes again…” 
Emilia rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard this. 
“Say what you will, Devil King, but we need that to happen for our plans. And whether Emilia is on your side or not…” Raguel gave Emilia a very un-angelic sneer of disgust, eyes honed to a dim, sharpened edge. “But what next, I ask? Bare your fangs all you want, but you are siding with the Devil King and betraying all mankind in front of the largest audience in the history of this planet. So what next?” 
“…” 
“Don’t forget, now, your father’s fields are still controlled by Olba and us. Defy us now, and we’ll crush both the Devil King and the father you’ve only now seen again.” 
“Huh? Your father’s fields?” 
Maou spun around toward Emilia. This snippet of info was news to him. Emilia found it impossible to look him in the eye, head hung low as she blushed. To him, she was sure, it must have seemed like handcuffing herself over something that was ultimately insignificant. Her heart sank at the ridicule she expected. 
“…Well, whatever.” 
But it never came. At least, what did come certainly beat “What are you, stupid?” 
“We all got different things we value in life. I mean, that’s what…” Maou turned toward Raguel, a weary look on his face. “That’s what makes this third-class act so fishy to me. How serious even are you guys, anyway? I mean, yeah, he’s an incurable sexual predator, but at least Sariel actually worked to make his dreams come true. That’s a thousand times better than you guys.” 
He scrunched his nose and lips together, then hit the palm of one hand with his fist. “So,” he hoarsely spat out, “if I can blow you guys out of the sky with one hit, that’ll keep you from messing up Emi’s fields, right? Wherever they are; I dunno. You think you’re up for this, Acieth? Even with Nord how he is?” 
When they found Libicocco guarding over Nord in the Cloud Retreat, Acieth had “transferred” herself from Maou to him. And if the way she described it was correct, having her new “latent force” be unconscious would make her own strength take a hit. That, and she was still crying and blowing snot out of her nose. But she was still ready for this, a purple aura surrounding her. 
“You. The very, ah, hard-looking one.” 
“Mngh?! Ahh?!” 
Acieth casually sidled up to Alciel. 
“Maou, with you, throw up very, very much. But with that, it holy energy at core, so I think, maybe, it works? So can I take?” 
Without asking for permission, she then took the kneeling Alciel’s head between her hands and forced him up. 
“What?! H-hey! Where are you putting your… Stop this at once! Have you no shame?! What are you doing?!” 
The bold armor that represented the might of the Great Demon General was now being taken off, piece by piece, with her bare hands. 
“Aah! How could you do such a thing?! After—after all this…” 
This was no longer Alciel. It was now Shirou Ashiya shouting and flailing about. The grace and beauty that every inch of the armor and cape boasted was being ripped off, torn into little bits by the Yesod child. The amount of time and money it took to make, and the dignity it brought the Demon General, made Shirou Ashiya scream in agony. 
“Ooh, I found it!” 
After reducing the Demon General to a half-clothed state, Acieth held her prize in the air. It was a Yesod fragment—the one that Olba had brought into the demon realms. The one that, in Barbariccia’s hands, had exuded enough power—not holy, but demonic—that it set off Ciriatto’s Crystal Link in the skies above Choshi. 
“If I look to you, maybe it work with this one.” 
“Wh-what are you talking about?!” 
Ignoring the dishonorably declothed Demon General, Acieth turned to Maou, gave him the victory sign, and—her interest in Alciel now completely gone—gave a quick flip of her feet and zoomed toward him. 
“Whoa… What’re…?!” 
She fell into her arms, their foreheads approaching each other. Despite the intensity of the situation, it still made Emilia blush a little. 
“Oh. Right.” Maou nodded in relief. “I guess you think so, huh? ’Cause I was thinking I was just being too self-conscious. Guess you couldn’t blame me for being wrong.” 
The moment she heard his reply, the area around them was bathed in a bright, opaque purple light—and inside, his forehead touched Acieth’s. 
“I think, it only work with head to head. To ‘know.’” 
Then it activated. 
Ensconced in the magic barrier, it was all she could do to keep a grip on her father. 
When Emilia finally dared to open her eyes, she was greeted with a bizarre sight. Torrents of purple and black were everywhere—torrents of wind, or light, or darkness, or perhaps sand. But only black, and only purple. The sky that symbolized the greatness and beauty of the capital was painted anew in these two colors, and the voice that echoed from above was low and heavy as it said: 
“Damn, do I have some great people on my staff.” 
Well, perhaps not all that low and heavy. 
“I’m amazed you had this fragment with you, Ashiya.” 
“Oh?” 
“Being exposed to demonic force for all that time… Guess that’s what made it easy for Acieth to work with me.” 
“…Heh-heh-heh!” 
“?!” 
The black and purple currents disappeared, only to reveal Sadao Maou—just as before, in human form and still exuding untold amounts of demonic force. 
“Prepare to death, mean crappy angels!” 
Then came Acieth Alla, eyes burning red and lips pulled into a vicious sneer. 
“Maou! Let’s kill!” 
“You got it.” 
With that action-hero one-liner, Acieth gave the demon king a toothy grin. Her teeth seemed to glint a bit as her body instantly transformed into particles of light that took Maou’s body in among them. 
Emilia watched in wide-eyed surprise. This was exactly how it looked whenever Alas Ramus fused with her. And what happened next was enough to make the jaws of Emilia, Alciel, the three Malebranche chieftains, Olba, and all the Eight Scarves forces on the ground drop. 
“…The Better Half…?” 
The Hero couldn’t believe her own eyes. The sight of it in Maou’s hand made her body shake. This was the very one she wielded, the one Alas Ramus had fused with. The only difference from hers was that its blade coursed not with the holy power she enjoyed, but demonic force. But she could tell from the atmosphere surrounding it that this was no pale imitation. 
“Another…holy sword…?” 
“A-ceth’s my liddle sister!” 
Amid all the shocked faces, only Alas Ramus looked on in delight, the sheer joy on her face impossible to hide. 
“Little sister? That girl? Acieth Alla?” 
“Yeh! A-ceth’s my liddle sister. The other side of the Yeffod!” 
“The other side…” 
The description stupefied Emilia. She had never thought too deeply about the name “Better Half” before. She assumed the “Better” part was a reference to how it changed form as she infused it with more holy force. “Half” was, well, part of the name—combined with Emilia’s force, the idea went, it finally formed into a whole. 
But that wasn’t it. “Half” of a sword is just that. An incomplete picture. There had to be another one of the same kind. 
“Buh…but this is a holy sword! Why is the Devil King…? Why demon energy…?” 
“It would seem,” Alciel said as he frantically used his own demon energy to repair his battered armor, “that Yesod fragments are not beholden exclusively to the holy side. We have perhaps made one very incorrect assumption about the Sephirah. The sword composed of you and Alas Ramus, and the one composed of my liege and that girl, are not of holy composition at all… Oh, there’s supposed to be another button here…” 
“Yeffod is a branch that connects life ’n’ life. Heart ’n’ heart. I was together wif A-ceth. Forever!” 
“A branch that connects lives…?” 
“Daddy, good luck!!” 
Before Emilia could process her words, Alas Ramus started urging Satan on to battle. He responded by twitching his lips and giving Acieth’s sword a swing. 
“Ngh?!” 
“…!” 
“Wowww!” 
Just one swipe made all three angels steel themselves. All Maou did was hold his “other” holy sword aloft, and it was enough to make them cower. That was the power it offered—the kind of bottomless power Maou had enjoyed during the pinnacle of his Ente Isla conquest. And it came from a bawling child of the Sephirah and a little pebble Olba decided to bring into the Devil King’s realm. 
“Right,” Maou muttered. “So you’re all gonna be outta here in one sec. Then the humans down there can talk all of this out, and you can’t put a strip mall on Emi’s field or whatever you’re planning to do with it. The rest, I’ll figure out later.” 
“What…? Nrrghh…!!!!” 
None of them heard the end of Maou’s statement. Before he could react, Raguel was suddenly thrust backward by a shock wave that weighed upon him like a sack of elephants. 
They had all failed to track Maou’s movements. To Gabriel and Camael, it was as though Maou had simply taken over Raguel’s position among them. They could tell from the ensuing second shock wave that Maou was moving faster than the speed of sound. 
Emilia covered Nord and Alas Ramus in a holy barrier, while Alciel kept himself protected, not daring to risk any more wardrobe malfunctions. 
Instinctively, the two remaining angels manifested their weapons—Camael his black-steel spear, Gabriel his Durandal sword—but it couldn’t have been more meaningless. 
“Satan… Today, you die…” 
“H-hey, Camael? I know you don’t have chill, but this is kind of a bad scene, man…” 
For once in his long, long life, Gabriel actually looked concerned about something. But the hate seemed to ooze out of the slits of Camael’s full-face visor, the force of his eyes as sharpened as the tips of his weapon. 
“Satan die! Satan die! Satan die! Satan die! Satan die! Satan die! Satan die, die, die!” 
“…Look, seriously, man, we’ve never even met.” 
“Satannnnnnnnnnnnn!! Raaahhhh!!” 
Camael’s spear, thrust forward so quickly it created an air vacuum behind it, was lightly swiped away by Maou like it was made of paper-towel tubes. 
“Nnhh?!” 
“Ngh.” 
Seizing the initiative, Maou slashed at Camael to his right, then fired a jet-black blast of energy at Gabriel to his left. 
“Sataaaaaaann!!!” 
“Gah!” 
The two archangels failed to keep up with the sheer speed of it all. Camael’s spear, overpowered by the holy sword, was cleanly split in half at the center, while Gabriel, unable to block the impact, was sent flying just as far as Raguel. 
Three downed angels, tossed aside in three different compass directions—and there, eyes burning as red as the moon that hung above him, Maou lorded it over them. 
“I’m angry, all right?” he said. “Angry at you for tormenting my friends, my staff, my people, and the humans I’m gonna be conquering sooner or later. You will not get any mercy from me today!” 
“W-wait a minute!” 
Emilia hurriedly injected more holy power into her father’s barrier to strengthen it. But Maou was moving so quickly, so unpredictably, she feared only hugging the barrier itself would be enough. It was impossible to catch him with the naked eye. Gabriel, as well as the armored angel she had only just met, were doubtlessly fighting with superhuman strength. But now the archangels who had toyed with them so ruthlessly on Earth were at the mercy of a lone figure, Sadao Maou, who wasn’t even in his demon form. 
The new Better Half sliced through the already-partly-missing Durandal, this time right at the handle—and then it was Maou ripping off armor, Camael’s armor, like so much construction paper. Against Raguel, only now recovering from that first blow, Maou didn’t even have to use his hands. A bolt of spiritual force from his eyes made part of his Afro vanish. 
“Whoa, man, that’s going too far— Ahhhh!!” 
A beam of red light from the tip of the Acieth Better Half struck Gabriel in the shoulder. He spun through the air. 
“Satan, Satannn!! Youuuuuuuuuuuu!!” 
Camael, his chestplate destroyed in a single swipe, writhed in pain. 
“Holy crap, are you really the Satan Gabe had dancin’ around on his hand?!” 
And Raguel, whose Afro now looked like a concave jigsaw-puzzle piece, didn’t even dare approach Maou. As he himself had once said, perhaps he wasn’t cut out for battle. 
“Yeah, well, I got my daughter watching me. Don’t wanna disappoint her, now do I? Rah!” 
“Oooooohh!!” 
Maou swung the Better Half at Raguel. It was just a tease; he was too far away to be in range. But the force of the swipe still struck home, slashing at Raguel and leaving countless small scratches across his entire body. 
 
On the ground, silence reigned. Olba, Barbariccia, Farfarello, and all the volunteers were too shocked to even gasp in awe. The events above them were simply impossible to grasp. 
And out of all of them, it was almost certainly Olba who was quaking in his boots the most. 
“They…they’re archangels… How could they be so…?” 
He believed with every atom of his brain that if worse came to worst, the archangels would swoop in to save the day for him. They certainly had the strength for it, and Maou at the peak of his powers was, at best, an even match for Emilia. Olba knew that. He had been there. 
“…It is almost time, then.” 
The only coolheaded one among the crowd was, of course, Maou’s “friend,” Crestia Bell. 
“B-Bell, what will happen to all of us?” Olba bellowed, spewing spittle at the composed Church cleric. “These are actual angels! If you pledge your support to the Devil King… You intend to turn traitor to Emilia? To Ente Isla? To the heavens themselves?” 

“A surprise to hear such words from your own mouth, Lord Olba.” 
Bell smiled. She was no longer in the dimension of faith Olba spoke of. She left her position and turned toward the Phaigan volunteers. 
“You know there are no such thing as true angels.” 
“…Wha…?!” 
Despite his crimes against the Church, hearing such words from a high-level cleric even made Olba blanch. What is this girl saying? Does she not see the very beings above her? He turned his eyes to the three angels. But Bell shook her head. 
“Not them,” she concluded. “They are mere humans. Humans claiming to be Gabriel, Camael, and Raguel. And if growing wings and possessing great strength makes one an angel, then let me strap on some costume wings from Tokyu Hand and claim my place in heaven! Surely, Olba, you could not believe that the ‘angels’ sung of in our holy scripture are these people you see before you?” 
There was no derisive smirk on Bell’s face as she spoke, no look of disgust. She was simply speaking of faith to one who refused to believe she had any. 
“The ‘angels’ we place our faith upon are symbols of the innate goodness within us. Of the standards expected of us in life. We learn of them in our doctrine and scripture, and thus they are ensconced in all our minds. They are not these visitors from afar who wield powerful force. There is no telling how you might have strayed from the path, Lord Olba, but seeing someone I respected so highly be unable to understand something like that saddens me deeply.” 
Her expression loosened a bit as she watched Olba, before she stiffened it again. 
“…Those who serve under the heroic flag of the Eight Scarves, listen and heed my words!” 
She called for the knights who surrounded them, still staring dumbstruck at the battle above. 
“I understand your confusion and wonderment. But what you see before you is nothing but the pure, unadorned truth: We are now blessed with the presence of two Heroes. And now they each wield their holy swords to once again rid the great empire you love so dearly of the ‘devils’ that have plagued it anew!” 
“Wh-what?!” 
“Devils?” 
“Two heroes?” 
“But…Lady Emilia…” 
“It looks like a holy sword, but such power…?” 
“That fiend Alciel’s the only ‘devil’ I see here!” 
Considering they had been gathered here for the sole purpose of slaying Alciel, the knights were not exactly convinced by Bell’s speech. 
“Bell, what could you be thinking…?” 
Even Olba found himself frustrated at the audacious but ultimately absurd-sounding attempt at restoring order. He had no idea what her motivations were, but someone shouting on her soapbox at a time like this wouldn’t attract her any believers at all. 
“It is true! That is Alciel, the Great Demon General himself! But it is neither Alciel, nor the Malebranche forces, that has brought this national crisis to the heart of Efzahan. Allow me to prove it to all of you now! Let me introduce to you Archbishop Olba Meiyer, companion to the Hero Emilia…” 
“Huh?!” 
Olba panicked upon hearing his name. Bell continued, undeterred. 
“Sir Albert Ende, another companion…Libicocco, Malebranche chieftain…” 
“Gah!” 
Bell pointed at two figures nearby—Albert, and the one-armed Malebranche. Their presence was another surprise to Olba—but the third, and greatest surprise, was the person standing next to Albert within a holy barrier. He was small, much smaller than Bell, with his hunched-over back only making him seem shorter. The ornate robe he wore served to make him all the more frail and feeble-looking. There was hardly any majesty to him at all. 
But it was still him. 
“…And most of all, His Highness, the Azure Emperor of Efzahan, will attest to my words!” 
Bell’s quiet words struck home with the crowd. 
“Y-your Majesty…?!” 
The voices quivered even more than when Alciel first appeared, just as the morning sun served to fully illuminate him before the throngs. 
“Our leader…” 
“The Azure Emperor…!!” 
“Our supreme leader!!” 
“The emperor!” 
“Your Highness!” 
“B-bow your heads! All men, bow your heads!!” 
The sight of the old man, barely able to stand on his own two feet, shattered whatever high ground the volunteer forces had left. Their knights abandoned their weapons, brought hand and fist together over their chests, and fell to their knees one by one as they showed their fealty to the elderly emperor. 
By Alciel’s orders, he had been guarded by Libicocco up to the point Maou made his appearance—and by Maou’s orders, Libicocco now sent him forward, protected by the barrier Albert conjured, a tiny, frail man who could have been felled by a stiff breeze. He was the Azure Emperor himself, ruler of all the lands claimed by Efzahan across the length and breadth of the Eastern Island. 
The august emperor, his blurred eyes and dry, pallid skin weaving a patchwork of wrinkles, glanced at the sky and let out a scratchy sigh. 
“Someone,” he groaned out. As if electrocuted into life, one of the generals in the top-ranked Regal Jade Scarves battalion sprang to his feet. 
“Regal Jade general…what…the woman has told all of us…is the full and unvarnished…truth.” 
“Y-yes, sire!” 
“I was tricked…by the sweet words of those…who called themselves angels…into bringing the Male—ahh, Malebranche here…” 
“Yes, sire!” cried the general once more, straining to take in every muted syllable of his ruler. Whether they would come together to form good news or bad wasn’t the point. All the Azure Emperor spoke was the truth, and being imparted the truth in such direct fashion would be a highlight of any Eight Scarves officer’s career. 
“It was all…to build greater Efzahan into…a strong empire…to show the world…the strength of our people…” 
“It is the utmost of honors, Your Grace!” 
“But…they were of the vulgar sort…the product of the western savages’ detestable myths… They abandoned me, and treated Heavensky as their own… They brought my people into war between man and demon… They wounded many of us.” 
The words that found their way out between the Azure Emperor’s labored breathing still managed to retain the ambition, the sheer anger, that had brought him to his post in the first place. They would not let him down now. 
“But Al—Alciel…kept me safe…in the Cloud Retreat. He acted to…keep my faithful Knights…of the Eight Scarves…from being forced into…shedding each other’s blood. He saved my people, and…and brought us the great heroes from the West. As a strategist…he knows no equal.” 
This was enough to make even the Eight Scarves begin to stir. 
“If…if only…Alciel…was the first dark one…to come to me…perhaps…my power would now extend across all that sees…sees light.” 
It was a startling confession for the demons on hand to take in. If it had been Alciel who was sent by the angels, not Barbariccia, Ente Isla might be united under the flag of a single ruler by now. 
“My…faithful…warriors…of the Eight…Scarves. Do not misjudge your enemy… Gather under the holy swords…and show the heavens…the power…of Efzahan.” 
There was no way the old man’s subdued voice could have reached the ears of all the soldiers on hand. But somehow, everyone in the volunteer force once again bowed down, to a man. 
“…I promise you, most respected of emperors, that I, Crestia Bell, chief inquisitor of the Church Reconciliation Panel, as well as my companion, the Archbishop Olba Meiyer, have accepted the sagacity of your words.” 
“B-Bell, what are—” 
“Yooo, Olba! Lookin’ good! How long has it been, huh?” 
Before Olba had a chance to gripe about his title being used without his permission, Albert turned over custody of the emperor to the Regal Jade general and slapped an arm around Olba’s shoulder, as if spotting an old friend at the other end of the bar. He flashed a broad, guileless smile. 
“C’mon, we’re both deep with the Hero, yeah? Let’s work together here! Right?” 
He brought his lips to Olba’s ear, his voice lowering. 
“And I dunno what you were after, but I’d guess it’s not in the cards for you now, eh? You could least die with some human dignity in the end.” 
“A-Alb—” 
“Right!” Albert bellowed, holding the struggling Olba down with one thick arm. “Exactly! Now, Inquisitor Bell, tell me: Who should we be focusing on for now? Who’s the real enemy that threatens the future of Ente Isla?!” 
Bell gave him a nod and pointed a single finger upward. 
“As the leader of the Church Reconciliation Panel, I hereby lay down my judgment. The true enemies of humankind are the enemies of those who carry the holy swords. The three heretics who dare to claim the title of angels!” 
“Keh…heh… Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…” 
Gabriel, arms and legs drained of power and drifting helplessly as Maou held him by his T-shirt, let out a pained laugh. 
“S-seriously, this is cruel… I-I leaked so much info to you, can’t I get a break?” 
“I already was going easy on you, you selfish prick. This whole time, you’ve been treatin’ me like a fool, and now it’s time you pay me back!” 
“Oh… Yeah, true…heh-heh…” 
“Look, I’m not gonna kill you, okay? I’m just gonna drag you back to Japan and make you cough up everything you know.” 
“J-just not so rough, okay…?” 
“Sure. Just clear that with her first. She’s a lot more unforgiving than I am.” 
“Ooh, yeah, I bet she’s a firecracker…” 
Their eyes were, predictably, both fixed on Emilia. She was in no position to hear them, but she must have picked up on the vibe, because she lobbed a nasty stare back their way. 
“Oof…” 
“Sa…ta…” 
On the hand opposite the one Maou was using to hoist Gabriel upward, he was holding Raguel and Camael by each of their collars. They groaned in abject discomfort. 
It was, in the end, a lopsided victory—far more of one than Maou had anticipated. Raguel and his cohorts were all on Ente Isla, capable of flexing their muscles to the fullest, and not even he could have predicted that the Sephirot’s guardian angel would be so…well, disappointing, strength-wise. 
“So how ’bout I just ask this for now—like, what’s Camael got so bad against me, anyway? I’ve never seen him before, and frankly, he’s freaking me out.” 
“…Mmm, that’s kind of a long stor-eeeee, y’know? And kinda related to what you probably wanna make me cough up the most.” 
“All right, let’s save that for later. Though really, you’re one thing, but what should I do with the other two? If I just wanna keep ’em away from their powers, then… Hey, actually, what about Erone? He’s from Gevurah, right? Isn’t Camael responsible for him?” 
“…Yeaaaahhhhh…” Gabriel nodded. It must have just occurred to him, too. “Yeah, you’re right. Hey, Camael, what’s up with that? If he actually put in an honest day’s work, maybe we wouldn’t have been pummeled like this, huh?” 
“Huh?” 
It came as something of a surprise to Maou. 
“Wait, so is Camael fused with him like Emi is with Alas Ramus?” 
“Not fused, exactly, but…why is Erone—” 
“Maou!” Acieth suddenly shouted from within Satan’s mind. “Did you say Erone?!” 
“Eesh, don’t scream in my ear like that. Yeah, I did. You know about him?” 
“Of course I know! But Erone, I do not feel him here, he couldn’t be latent force for him!” 
“What?!” Maou exclaimed. Acieth claimed Camael couldn’t be Erone’s latent force. So the archangel couldn’t merge with the fruits of Sephirah? 
“Hey, uh, my Yesod just told me Erone isn’t here.” 
“…Wait, what? But he was with us before we came here… Camael, I thought you had him under your control, dude!” 
“Under control?!” Acieth shouted again. “He is so the stupid! We not controlled by anybody! All Sephirah, they work to complete the ‘Da’at,’ and when the Da’at is done, we are free! The latent force, it is only for temporary! We are jewels that build world! Nobody give the rules to us!” 
“Whoa, Acieth, you’re kinda overloading my mind again…” 
“Maou! Forget these idiots! Help my sister and her latent force find Erone! Then we go their home and beat all up! Hurry! Hurry! Like, super hurry! Hurry more!” 
“Dahh, just chill out! I need to work out a few things first, so let’s just—” 
“Devil King! Up there!!” 
“—get out of here and… Huhhh?!” 
By the time Emilia’s voice rang out, it was already under way. 
“Geh! What is that thing?!” 
The “thing” that made Gabriel groan in fear was a rift in the clear, sunlit sky that quickly formed into a dark crevice. That was eerie enough in itself, but it also let off no shock wave of force, no sound. The way nobody saw it coming until Emilia warned them about it was the strangest thing of all. 
“Uh, D-Devil King,” Gabriel stammered, “we’d better get outta here. This is, uh, real bad.” 
“Huh?” 
Maou had never seen him like this before. He thought it was another act, but the emotion in his eyes was not at all Gabriel in his typical state. He was terrorized. 
“Th-that’s a Gate, but not any normal Gate. It’s gonna grab everyone and— Aahhhh!” 
“Wh-whoa!” 
“Aieeee!” 
“Wh-what is the meaning of this?!” 
Like a vacuum cleaner going to work on some dust bunnies, the Gate that opened up in the early morning sky began to apply an overpowering suction force upon everyone below it. 
“Erng! Wha…what is that?!” 
Even Bell, still on the ground, was fighting with everything she had to avoid being picked up. But even relaxing for a moment made it feel like gravity would fail her. Albert and Olba were in the same boat, and the Eight Scarves knights formed a sort of scrum over the emperor to keep him safe, but even that looked dangerously precarious. 
“Nh, ah, no…” 
There was nothing nearby to latch on to. In a moment, Bell’s light frame was almost off of terra firma. She clawed at the air, hoping to find some kind of purchase, but her strength seemed to be totally absent. 
“Ah…” 
Like a leaf, Bell was tossed into the air… 
“Why are you releasing yourself from your duty?” 
…only to be stopped by something above her. Bell turned toward the large presence supporting her weight. 
“L-Libicocco?!” she shouted. 
“After all the resilience you showed me in Japan, you should hardly be flailing about like a child right now.” 
She had been saved by the very demon who had nearly killed her once before. 
“Y-you…” 
“I am not being drawn upward.” 
“What?!” 
“And neither are Farlo, nor Barbariccia. Nor my lord Alciel, nor the Devil King… It would seem this Gate can only absorb strong sources of holy force.” 
“How…?” 
She looked around. Albert and Olba were still fighting the force applied to them, but it didn’t seem to be affecting the Eight Scarves knights nearly as much. 
Then she looked up. 
“Whoooooooooa, whoa whoa whoa! Goddamn it!!” 
There he saw Maou, still holding on to the angels in both hands, looking about ready to get sucked in with them. 
Not even Gabriel could resist this attractive force—“Garghghrhhh, ow, ow, I am soooo deaaddddd” were his exact words—and being stretched between the Gate pulling him up and Maou pulling him down was starting to exact its toll on his T-shirt’s integrity. 
“Noooooooo!!” 
“E-Emi!” 
The Gate seemed to be affecting Emilia just as badly. 
“Keep… Keep fighting it, Emilia! You call yourself a Hero?!” 
“That…that kind of doesn’t apply to this…!!” 
“Enough struggling! Do you wish for me to slash you with my claws?!” 
“Don’t…don’t worry about me! Just save my father…” 
“Bah! Why do I have to protect someone like Emilia’s father?!” 
It took the combined efforts of Alciel and Farfarello to keep Emilia stationary. But just like Bell and Gabriel, she was unable to control her own body. Nord, covered by the holy-magic barrier, was not as affected, but the Gate seemed to be sucking in his barrier instead, forcing Barbariccia to dogpile on top of him. 
“Dammit, Gabriel! What the hell?! What’s going on?! …Agh!!” 
Before he could find an answer, the left hand Maou used to hold the collars of the two angels slipped in the howling wind. 
“Whoa, wait! …Shit!!” 
All it took was a single moment’s inattention. The results sent the unresponsive Raguel and Camael high into the air, through the crack in the sky, and out of sight. 
“That… Hey, Gabriel!!” 
Maou managed to reel in Gabriel by his clothing. Figuring he’d lose his grip before long, he grabbed him by the neck and elbows from behind in a wrestling hold, pulling him down with all his might. 
“Arrrgghh!” 
“What’s happening?! It’s going for the strongest holy-force users first!!” 
“I…I can’t…breathe…” 
“Hey!! Gabri—” 
“Maou! Up there!” 
It was then that Acieth, sounding more nervous and more resentful than ever before, made herself known. Even as he tried to steady his grip on Gabriel, the voice made Maou crane his head upward. 
“That…” 
Inside the gate, he could see a small dot. A human-shaped one. It was not that large; maybe about as tall as Urushihara or Sariel. But it was much wider around than either of them, thanks to the ball-shaped head and bulbous outline that made it look almost like a plush animal. 
Maou had seen a silhouette akin to this on TV not long ago. Something even a child in Japan would recognize. And it wore the type of clothing that Maou would never expect to see in a time or place like this. 
“Is that…a space suit?” 
The figure inside the Gate was dressed in what could only be described as astronaut gear. The opaque visor kept its face completely hidden from Maou’s vantage point, but somehow, he could tell this visitor was trying to tell him something. 
Then: 
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!” 
Acieth, inside Maou’s mind, let out a tormented scream. 
“A-Acieth, what is it?!” 
“Nh… Nraaahhhahhh!!” 
The anguish continued unabated. 
“What’s wrong, Alas Ramus?! Are you okay?!” 
Then Maou heard the one thing he didn’t want to hear: Emilia herself shouting in pain. The moment he heard Acieth’s yelp, he knew the theory he had in mind was true all along. 
“Emi! What is it?! Is Alas Ramus…” 
“I-I don’t know! She’s in some kind of pain…” 
“Dammit… Why is this happening? Acieth! Get it together!” 
“Ma… Maou… I can’t… It bad hurts… Aaaaahhhh!!” 
“Alas Ramus! Alas Ramus!!” 
It happened to Maou’s and Emi’s body at the same time: particles of purple light leaked out from them both, then shot toward the crevice. 
“Mommy! Mommy, ow! Owwww!!” 
“Maou… My body…! Aaaahhhhhhhh!!” 
“Alas Ramus!” 
“Acieth! Ahh, dammit! Gabriel! What is this? Who is that guy?!” 
“You’re…choking me… It’s how it works… Us archangels… Who d’you think…we take our orders from…?” 
“Your orders…?!” 
Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now? These people calling themselves “angels” in front of him—apart from the Heavenly Regiment, they all treated themselves as equals. Sariel, Gabriel, Camael, Raguel—whether they were the guardian of this or the judge of that, they all held these impossibly lofty titles, but they were all of the same rank as far as heaven was concerned. 
But they said it themselves—orders from above. Their “missions.” And who gave those to them? It could only be one thing. 
“Something like that should never exist. Not on this world.” 
The moment the thought came to Maou’s mind, the pull of the Gate above Heavensky suddenly disappeared. The force working upon Emilia and Gabriel, without warning, suddenly returned them to the rule of gravity. 
“Agh!!” 
The recoil force thus applied to Gabriel’s neck and head was enough to finally knock him out. But Maou had other matters in mind. 
“A-Acieth? You okay?!” 
“Alas Ramus! Hang in there!” 
The moment the force disappeared, the particles streaming out from Maou and Emilia stopped. The pain that tormented Acieth seemed to be gone, and the same applied to Alas Ramus, given by how Emilia was calling frantically for her, one hand to her chest. 
That came as a relief, but when he looked up at the gate again, he was greeted by a shocking sight that made everything that came before seem like child’s play. 
“Waaaagghhh?!” 
“Whaaaaaat?!” 
“Gaahhhhh?!” 
The moment Alciel, Farfarello, and Barbariccia saw what Maou did, they let out screams that sounded like something from another world. 
“Wha—wha—whaaaaaaat?!” 
“L-Libicocco, what is it?!” 
Even on the ground, Bell was surprised at Libicocco descending into fear right after saving her life. But it was Maou, most of all, who couldn’t believe the sight facing him. It was so preposterous, it made him want to scream. 
In a way, it was even more enigmatic than the astronaut, and even more terrifying. The broad hat, with a peacock feather stuck in it that seemed to gently lilt in the deafening whirlwind was a blindingly, shockingly bright shade of purple. The hair that peeked out from under it curled in almost noble fashion, contributing elegance even as the similarly covered silk dress clashed against it. One arm, carrying a handbag whose strap teemed with embroidered jewels, sported a bracelet that seemed to draw a springlike spiral around her wrist, and the manicured nails struck fear into Maou’s heart at a single glance. 
The body was like a barrel of TNT, the legs like two gigantic cannons, and the white-enamel stiletto heels couldn’t have possibly sustained the weight of the whole thing. It was a portrait of female elegance beyond human comprehension—enough to make the rising sun want to retreat back east for a while—but for innumerable reasons, a portrait that belonged nowhere near here. 
It was Miki Shiba, landlord of Villa Rosa Sasazuka, a wooden apartment building several million miles away from here. 
“Ms.…Ms.…Ms. Shibaaaaaaaa?” came Maou’s confused scream. 
With the gentle breeziness she always bore, Shiba turned her head (despite having no visible neck to work with) toward Maou and gave a refined nod. 
“Well, hello there, Mr. Maou! It’s been quite a while. I do apologize if I am interrupting anything.” 
“Oh, uh…not interrupt, exactly, but…um…” 
“Chiho Sasaki was kind enough to inform me of your affairs. Normally I would never allow any of this, mind you, but apparently Amane’s been revealing quite a bit to all of you…” 

 

She paused to look at Emilia. They had spoken before, if only once, and Maou could see the massive question mark written on her face. 
“That,” Shiba continued, “and I could hardly leave the children using you and that lady as latent forces entirely to their own devices.” 
“L-latent…?” 
Why would Shiba know a term they had only heard from Acieth before? 
“I suppose,” she replied, “I’ve not grown quite heartless enough to leave my younger brothers and sisters fully in the lurch.” 
Then, with a smile that had the force of a nuclear blast on all it was directed toward, she turned to the Gate in the sky. 
“And I do hope you will all retire from this scene for now,” she said to the astronaut inside. “I imagine you understand how unwise it would be to defy me?” 
It was hard to say whether the figure heard it, but the astronaut briskly turned its back to the rest of them. Then: 
“Ah…” 
As every one of them looked on, the Gate vanished, with no sound, no lead-up, and no warning. All that remained was the sky, the two moons, and the thoroughly wrecked Heavensky Keep below them. 
“Is… Is that it?” Emilia whispered as every man, every demon, and every angel slowly regained their senses. 
“Oh, no, nothing is over yet,” Miki Shiba said, still high above them. “In fact, one could say it has hardly even started yet. Chiho Sasaki did not lead me to believe things were in quite as much of a disarray as they evidently are. Yes, quite a disarray indeed, over on this world…” 
“Ms.…Ms. Shiba, could you at least tell me—” 
“Ohhh no, no, no! That’s ‘Mikitty’ to you.” 
“Oh, o-okay…” 
Anything spoken through those thick, firm, glossy lips, covered in a blazing shade of crimson that even put Camael’s armor to shame, was impossible to disagree with. 
“Mr. Maou—and all of you too: Mr. Ashiya, Ms. Kamazuki, Ms. Yusa—I would like to request that all of you make your way back to Japan. And you, too, you lovable guy! We can discuss matters after that.” 
Shiba’s “lovable guy” was apparently Gabriel—the archangel who, after a pitched battle, had been half-strangled by Maou as he tried to keep him from being sucked into the Gate. Somehow, Maou didn’t think he would find the experience too non-horrifying. For once, he had some sympathy for the man. 
“B-but wait a minute!” Emilia shouted. “We can’t just leave things like they are here…” 
It was a world-changing day. The angels who schemed against Efzahan and the Malebranche were defeated, the mysterious Gate a thing of the past, but that alone would not stop the disorder. There were countless healthy Malebranche down there, and the Eight Scarves forces would hardly just salute to Alciel as he traipsed back to Japan. Whether or not the angels or demons were pulling the strings, Efzahan was still officially in a state of war against the entire rest of the world. 
“Oh, no?” Shiba countered. “It hardly has anything to do with me.” 
“B-but…” Emilia turned toward the thousands of eyes watching her from below. The throng was nervous. They didn’t know what to do with themselves. Should they keep fighting? If so, against whom? The old Emilia Justina probably would have an inspirational word or two for them to live by. But now she knew all too well how selfish she was. She only cared about fighting for herself, and nothing she could say in her current state would move the minds of anyone. And whether or not he had a Holy Sword, she doubted the Devil Lord would ever pinch-hit for her. 
Then, just as suddenly as the big one from before, a small tear opened up right next to Bell on the ground. 
“Ah…” 
“Mnh!” 
It portended a Gate, albeit a tiny one. Everyone steeled themselves, preparing for the worst. 
They shouldn’t have bothered. 
“Oof! …Oooh, boooy, talk about a big messss…” 
“Very much so. I was not expecting this.” 
Two people stepped out of the Gate—two people Emilia knew very well. 
“E-Eme?!” 
One was Emeralda Etuva, Saint Aile court sorceress and a figure who should’ve been under trial for betraying her religion at the moment. The other: 
“And…General Rumack?!” 
Emilia’s voice went a notch higher at the even more unexpected visitor. Hazel Rumack, about ten years older than the Hero and dressed in the beautiful ceremonial armor she wore for diplomatic missions, winced at the chaotic scene greeting her through the Gate, but gave Emilia high above an exaggerated wave nonetheless. The Eight Scarves around them, now reassured the gale force from the previous Gate was gone, were busily attending to the Azure Emperor’s safety. 
And looking at all of it from above, Miki Shiba whispered: 
“The people of this world can handle their own business.” 
“Everyonnne! Please, do not fight any longerrr! That is a formal request from Emeralda Etuuuva and Albert Ende! Hold yer fiiiire, y’all!” 
“The emperor seeks an armistice as well! Hold yourselves for a moment! If you do not stop, then by the name of the Hero Emilia I will strike you down!” 
Before any further action could be taken, Emeralda and Albert had stepped up to quell the masses, each in their own trademark fashion. 
“…All of you,” Bell shouted, “come down here!” 
Maou, Alciel, and Emilia exchanged glances. 
“You may go ahead,” Shiba said. “You do have enough time for that. In the meantime, I’ll take this man, and then…” 
“Uh?” 
“Eh?” 
Shiba twitched her finger a little. The limp Gabriel was instantly whisked out of Maou’s arms, to hang in the air like a breaded fish filet tossed into the fryer. Then Maou and Emilia began to faintly glow, and in the next instant, a gaunt-looking Alas Ramus and Acieth appeared before then. 
“I will take care of these children for you. After all, Mr. Maou, you would be quite a bother to those on the ground in your current state, would you not?” 
Regardless of what the two “latent forces” thought about it, being relieved of their Yesod fragments so easily only deepened their awe at Shiba’s mysterious powers. Maou gave Emilia a look, and then, holding back his demonic force as much as possible, settled down to earth. 
At the time, they still had no idea why Alas Ramus and Acieth simply manifested in space like that. 
 
“You certainly have been busyyy, haven’t you? Heavensky Keep is just an utter shaaambles.” 
“Completely!” 
Emeralda and Suzuno were the first to greet Maou and Emilia. 
“You knooow, this may shock the world even more than when the Devil King’s Army destroyed Isla Centurrrum.” 
“Uh, sorry,” the Devil King awkwardly offered. 
But there were still a few things he didn’t quite understand. 
“Hey, but, Emeralda, weren’t you summoned to religious court or something? What’re you doing around here?” 
“R-religious court?!” Emilia blurted out. This was news to her, but the easygoing Emeralda eyed Bell instead. 
“Welll, Bell and Rumack helped me ooooout.” 
“Suzuno and General Rumack?” 
“Oh, it was hardly any great labor,” said the general in the ceremonial armor. “We just prodded at the sewer rats lurking around the nation a little.” 
“Rumack found out I was on triiial for apostasy, and she went all the way from the Central Connntinent to the capital for me.” 
“And why wouldn’t I? What kind of empire does this to a woman, is what I ask you? Emeralda would normally help herself out of that predicament a bit more easily. I figured Pippin had to be involved, and boy, was I right!” 
“Aw, you make it sound like I’m the bad guy,” Emeralda protested. 
Rumack shrugged. “Well, weren’t you?” 
“I was nooot!” 
Emeralda puffed out his cheeks in dissatisfaction. No one stepped up to defend her. 
“Plus, I could hardly rescue Emeralda this fast by myself. It was Sir Albert and Inquisitor Bell’s support that did the trick.” 
“Yeah, about that,” Maou interrupted. “Suzuno, you went all the way to the Western Island and back? How?” 
As far as he could remember, Suzuno and Albert were about to sneak into the capital half a day ago. What were they doing with Rumack and Emeralda over there? 
“We failed to infiltrate the Cloud Retreat…and Gabriel sent us back to Saint Aile.” 
“Oh, right, Libicocco said you guys got tossed somewhere…” Maou gave another glance at Gabriel, still bobbing in the sky under Shiba’s force. 
“I honestly thought,” Suzuno said, “we had no chance of coming back. But Emeralda was in the capital. With her support and the angel’s feather pen, I thought we still had some hope.” 
“I tell youuu, when Bell and Al and Rumack storrrmed into the courtroom I was in, I thought I was halluuucinating!” 
“The courtroom… Ah!” 
The reminder helped Maou recall Crestia Bell’s position in the Church. 
“Indeed. Placing one of Saint Aile’s most important figures—a companion to the Hero, no less—on trial was a massive undertaking. One that should never have been attempted without the approval of the leader of the Reconciliation Panel. The only one ranked above me is Archbishop Robertio, current head of the Panel. It puzzled me, the question of who gave this sort of permission so recklessly.” 
A trial for apostasy, or refusal to obey one’s religion, involved a judge determining what, if any, teaching of the Church the accused had turned their backs to. That was the sole jurisdiction of the Reconciliation Panel—or the Council of Inquisitors, as it used to be called. 
“I tell you,” Suzuno said, “when General Pippin Magnus caught sight of me as he reclined in his witness’s chair, he practically fell off!” 
“Right,” Albert added. “And while she was putting an end to the trial, Ms. Rumack tied Pippin down long enough to get all the trial evidence back out in the open.” 
This retelling of the epic legal battle, taking place halfway across the world from this one, was starting to strike Emilia dumb. 
“I didn’t have my guaaard down or anything, but, oooh, having that maggot Pippin do me in… It made me stew in my own juuuices, for sure. Didn’t it?” 
Emeralda suddenly turned toward Olba. Only the traitor himself and the people surrounding him knew it, but between the disappeared Raguel and Camael, the defeated Gabriel, and the Malebranche now firmly back on Maou and Alciel’s side, Olba had no true ally left in this city. His body shook, too battered to stand up, and Emeralda stared at it like a snake. 
“Wh-what?!” 
“Oh, stop playing duuumb. You sure were buuusy, weren’t you, you outcaaast?” 
Even the bald tonsure on top of Olba’s head was white as a sheet. 
“You bribed the bishops in the walled city of Cassius into ignoring you, you built inroads with that worm Pippin and his gang, and you let them take over the area around Sloane, diiidn’t you? I’m sure that rat Pippin just loooved the payoffs you were giving him, nooo?” 
“That…” 
“And when I started sniiiffing around Sloane, you locked me in the capital for that stupid triiial. You were on cloud niiine, weren’t you? And then Bell came stomping in, and swoosh! went Rumack’s rapier, and you wouldn’t believe all the dirrrt we found!” 
“Ah…ah…” 
“Rumack brought it all into the triiial, and Bell gave the Church judge an eeearful of scary legalese, and with that, Archbishop Cervantes came all the way from Sankt Ignoreido through the Stairs to Heavennn, and then he went down on one knee and asked for my trial to be annulled! And why wouldn’t heee? Not only was there clear evidence of what the missing Olba had donnne, we even had evidence for the Cassius bishop’s corruption!” 
Emeralda seemed to be tormenting the now ghostlike Olba with every word. 
“The Church knights and imperial guards around Sloane are all on our side now. And I can’t help but wonderrr, what were you ever trying to do with my good friend’s family hooome?” 
“E-Eme?!” Emilia blurted out. “Is that…?” 
Emeralda and Rumack were in full control of the territory around Sloane. And that meant only one thing. 
“Emilia,” Emeralda gently replied. “We failed you at your time of need, and you had to go through so much. But it’s okay now. Your father’s fields are under the direct protection of the Holy Magic Administrative Institute now.” 
Emilia covered her face with both hands and let out a soft sigh. It was a sound from the heart—a sound of relief, of happiness, of regret, and of hope. 
“Olba Meiyer,” Emeralda continued, boldly, with the full force of her Saint Aile court-magician title behind her. “You have deceived our people, denigrated the teachings of the Church, put countless thousands across the world in danger, and dragged the good name of the Hero in the mud. For that, you must have penance—and it is not a crime you can atone for simply with your life.” 
Olba was sprawled on the ground, lifelessly, as he listened. Now, finally, his sins were exposed to all the world. 
“But if there is even a shred of human decency left in your heart… If you have the will to speak the truth about this darkness covering Ente Isla, the Holy Empire of Saint Aile will give you the opportunity to wipe away your sin. Olba, your foolish dreams end here!” 
“Gnh…” 
Albert lifted Olba up by the arms, restraining him. He offered no resistance. Realizing his will was completely broken, Emeralda sighed deeply. 
“Ahhh, this is such a loooad upon me…” 
Rumack sighed at the display. “See, that’s what I mean when I say you’re a bad guy. So…” Hardening her expression, she turned back to the former Phaigan Volunteer Force knights, all carefully eyeing her now. 
“Members of the Eight Scarves… My name is Hazel Rumack, the Western Island’s representative in the Federated Order of the Five Continents. I have arrived in search of an audience with the Azure Emperor.” 
This was not at all how normal diplomacy worked. Having a top official hop in via a Gate and demand top-level talks with the Big Guy would spark an international incident in itself, but trying to talk to the emperor without an appointment went even beyond that. It was downright rude. 
But it worked. 
“Let us…hear out this one,” came the raspy voice of the Azure Emperor as he stepped out from the knights—a figure who wouldn’t even be seen by most visitors without an advance message from known nobility. 
“This has been a trial…for all of us. Underneath the azure sky, both I…and you, remain human beings…at heart.” 
“I am grateful for the compliment, Your Majesty.” 
Rumack bowed her head, as per the custom in Efzahan. Emeralda, herself a high official from Saint Aile, followed her lead. 
“Your Grace, on behalf of the Federated Order of the Five Continents, I am here to formally ask you to lay down the spears of war for good.” 
“…Hmm.” 
“The tragedy that struck Heavensky today could very well prove to be a mere taste of the tragedy all of Ente Isla is facing now. The scars of the Devil King Army’s rampage remain fresh upon us. If human must battle human again, it could lead to a yet darker, more final disaster for all of us. It might mark an end to the grand history your nation has built for itself, and I do not believe, Sire, that is what you seek.” 
“…Hmm.” 
“I beseech you, Your Grace, to send a representative to sign an armistice with the Federated Order. It will take only a moment of your, and his, time, but it will help all of us—North, South, East, West—enjoy the peace we enjoyed in pre–Devil King’s Army days for at least that one moment longer.” 
Listening to Rumack’s rhetoric, Emilia gave Maou next to her a glance. 
“…Huh?” 
Then she asked herself why she did it. She knew that answer to that, of course; instead, she was wondering whether Maou cared about how Rumack placed responsibility for all the world’s wars on the Devil King’s Army. 
Ente Isla before the demon invasion was hardly a utopia where people stood hand in hand in beaming harmony. Tensions ran deep under the surface between the world’s superpowers, with all-out war between smaller nations an all-too-common occurrence. The specter of civil war was fresh on the minds of both Efzahan and Haruun on the Southern Island. 
Rumack was speaking in diplomatic terms, of course, and nobody else had to interpret her literally that way. But, to Emilia, it made her realize that she was actually mulling over Maou’s feelings. It threw her a bit. 
On the other hand, the true target of Rumack’s request gave a far less muddled response. 
“…Very well. The declaration of war…from earlier…was the product of my…my unworthiness. The commander of…the Regal Azure Scarves…shall be sent hence.” 
“…It pleases me greatly to hear, my lord.” 
Rumack bowed deeply in appreciation. 
Once the impromptu conference was over, the emperor, guarded by a squad of Eight Scarves soldiers from Phaigan, returned to his domicile in the bit of Heavensky Keep that managed to avoid the most catastrophic of damage. Once they saw him off, Emeralda and Rumack ran up to Emilia. 
“You have liiittle to worry about nowww, I would say.” 
“Yes. And while you may not believe it at this point, Emilia, I feel the people of Ente Isla are slowly, but surely, sensing the weight you’ve borne for them all this time.” 
“Eme… Rumack…” 
“We want you to fight for yourselllf from now on, Emilia. Al and I will give you our utmost supporrrt, too.” 
“…All right. Thanks.” 
Emilia attempted a nod, but the events of the day were too overwhelming, and she ended up hugging her friend instead. 
Emeralda must have known it the whole time—the Hero never fought for anybody except herself. But Emilia was always there for her, regardless. She wanted to repay that friendship, no matter what it took. 
Rumack gave them a smile, then hardened her glare on another man nearby—the one with enough demonic force locked inside him to level an entire continent. 
“I must admit, I am surprised to hear you are the Devil King who laid waste to Ente Isla. Normally, the idea of chatting with you like this would seem ridiculous to me.” 
“Yeah, don’t I know.” 
“But…oddly enough, it appears that to Emeralda, Albert, and Emilia most of all, you are an indispensable part of their lives. Without the strength you and Inquisitor Bell lent to us, we could never have rescued Emeralda, revealed Olba’s crimes, and brought Efzahan back to the Federated Order’s bargaining table again. We could never let bygones be bygones, and it is up to us to judge you demons for your sins as well, someday…but, for now and now alone, I thank you.” 
Alciel looked perplexed at the general’s light nod, Bell meekly bowing her head. Maou, on the other hand, grunted at it. 
“C’mon. You know I’m the Devil King and these’re demons, right? Maybe I blew it last time, but I’m not giving up on conquering Ente Isla yet. Get all namby-pamby on me, and I’ll make you regret it sometime.” 
“Let us pray that ‘sometime’ never comes,” Rumack countered with a bold smile. Then her eyes turned to the Malebranche chieftains behind Maou. “Them, meanwhile… It would not at all be in our best interests to let them go back to this ‘Japan’ I hear of. If you are not willing to do something about the Malebranche, then I’m afraid hostilities will have to begin immediately.” 
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You know I’ve been itching to order these guys back into my realm.” 
Maou winced as he spoke— 
“Hup!” 
—then, as if opening a bedroom window, he opened a Gate right next to Rumack. 
“Barbariccia?” 
“…My liege.” 
“Ciriatto’s already over there, yeah? I really hope you’ve had enough of this crap by now. Try to lie low for a change, all right?” 
“…Yes, my liege.” 
“Your Demonic Highness!” Farfarello said, falling to one knee. 
“Mmm?” 
“Everything has happened as you said it would. Please, forgive us for our ignorance.” 
“Ooh, glad to see I’m getting a little respect for a change. Can you get the rest of the Malebranche outta here, too? No stragglers.” 
“Yes, sir!” 
“…You,” Libicocco mumbled, staring at Bell. “I know not what your intentions are…but try not to get yourself killed.” 
“Ah, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine a Malebranche worrying about my health.” Bell rolled her eyes, although she didn’t seem too offended to the others. “I pray that the next time we meet, we fight with words, not swords.” 
“Nonsense. You humans and your ridiculous ramblings…” 
“Indeed. And I feel that I understand the demons less than I ever have before.” 
It was a sight that would have been unthinkable just two years ago. And one that, until today, would have been unthinkable anywhere except Room 201 of Villa Rosa Sasazuka in Japan. But here it was, right on Ente Isla. Humans and demons, talking. And seeing this unthinkable act take place before her eyes, Emilia couldn’t help but bite down hard on her lip. 
Upon Barbariccia and Farfarello’s command, the Malebranche left in Heavensky assembled near the ruined keep. As Rumack looked on warily—still not used to such huge numbers of demons acting in orderly fashion around her—the New Devil King’s Army returned home, via the Gate the real Devil King provided for them. 
“Hey…Devil King…” 
“Mm?” 
Emilia spoke up behind Maou—this time as the swordless, Cloth of the Dispeller–less Emi Yusa. 
“I know I said earlier I need to apologize to you about something, but…um.” 
“The Malebranche?” 
“…Yeah, I…” 
Slowly, Emi explained the events that had happened to her: her arrival on Ente Isla, her discovery that her father’s land was still fertile, and how she led the volunteer force to kill innocent Malebranche chiefs for the sake of a few simple acres of wheat. All in the utmost detail, with no embellishments. Maou listened to every word of it, not interrupting once. 
“So,” she concluded, “I guess I really have no right to condemn you for—” 
“Oh, who cares? I sure don’t. Stop acting so stupid.” 
“What?” 
“Maybe this sounds cold, but really, I couldn’t give two shits any longer.” 
“You couldn’t…? Aren’t the Malebranche under your command?” 
“Yeah, but I told Farfarello to recall his forces, like, eight million times since he showed up in Japan. Barbariccia and the other chieftains didn’t listen to me. They misread the situation, and they died for it. All there is to it.” 
“…B-but…” 
“Why is that shaking you, of all the damn things? If you’re saying you killed demons from the start just for the sake of yourself, how’s that any different?” 
“…!” 
He was right. But it didn’t mean it would be easy for Emi to grapple with this in her heart quite yet. Maou, perhaps realizing her ambivalence, let out a contrived sigh and shook his head. 
“I mean, you’re the Hero, and I’m the Devil King who made you that way, and I don’t see the need to keep arguing over that. Because ultimately, none of this changes a thing between you and me.” 
Maou chose this moment to finally turn toward her. Why, even now, did Emi flinch away? Why was it so hard to look him in the eye? Whatever the answer, it was nothing Maou cared about. 
“Like, if there’s anything that’s changed, it’s that I said you were one of my Demon Generals, huh?” 
“Wha…!” 
Emi’s face shot upward. Being called such in public wasn’t the issue. It was the events surrounding that appointment—events that even now made her blush. 
“That… You… I mean, that was all your doing! I never said I would accept it or—” 
“Yeah, see? That’s what I mean. It was my doing. Come on, Emi. You know you’ve got more important people to apologize to. Don’t tell me you forgot about that, too?” 
His expression suddenly turned glum. 
“I mean, hell, by now, you’re probably gonna have to serve as Chi and Rika’s slave.” 
Emi’s mouth opened a little. 
“Chi was bawling her eyes out every day you didn’t come back, and thanks to that wacky Idea Link you threw Rika Suzuki’s way, she had to see Gabriel whisk Ashiya away. That kinda sucked, you know.” 
“Oh…um…” 
“And I already got Chi’s birthday present, too, all right? But I’m sure you didn’t get anything, as if Chi wasn’t pissed at you enough already.” 
“……Ooh.” 
The shock of the truth, coupled with what her shallow behavior had done to her friends, stunned Emi into a groaning silence. 
“Man, seriously, what is wrong with you lately? You sure you didn’t get food poisoning or something?” 
Emi was too busy bashfully fidgeting with her hands to give a coherent reply. Maou scowled, but then gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Well,” he said, “I guess that’s how tough it was on you, huh? So when we get home, you can apologize, and you can tell ’em everything from square one. They’re your friends, right? They’ll understand.” 
“……Yeah,” Emi said with a nod, bringing a hand to the arm on her shoulder. 
 
The contact came rather suddenly. 
Chiho, on her way home from school, had just put her schoolbag back on the desk in her room when the phone rang. Lunging at it, she looked at the screen—and instantly shot out of the room, everything in her heart bursting out at once. 
“Chiho?! Are you going out again?!” 
Her mother was a tad surprised to see her daughter zoom out the door right after trudging back in, but Chiho’s heart had no capacity left to deal with that. She was on the street now, and with a single sense of mission, she ran across Sasazuka as dusk settled down upon it. 
The way took her down the 100 Trees Shopping Arcade, full of people picking up dinner or returning home from work or school. It made forward progress a little dicey at times, but Chiho darted and dodged her way through them as fast as she could. 
And, of course, she hit a red light just before the rail station. 
“Ughh!!” 
So she went two steps at a time up the pedestrian bridge that ran under the Shuto Expressway that rings Tokyo. Traversing the entirety of it would take about as long as simply waiting for a green, but Chiho still ran on, undeterred. In fact, she heard the tone indicating the green light behind her just as she coursed past the guardrail behind the Sasazuka rail station. 
The area was, as usual, littered with parked bicycles, but Chiho didn’t care. She was on Bosatsu Street now, gently curving upward as it went. She went straight along the irrigation channel that lined it, crisscrossing along a few alleyways as she did. 
In just a few seconds, her target was in sight—a battered old two-floor apartment. A place dearer to Chiho than almost anything. A place where the people she cared about gathered. 
“Ah!” 
And as she ran, she could see it—a familiar-looking light in the backyard. Wiping the sweat from her eyes, she sped the rest of the way, careened past the VILLA ROSA SASAZUKA sign, and burst into the backyard. 
“Maou!!!!” 
She shouted the name she had seen on her phone screen, the soles of her shoes crunching down on the grass. It hadn’t been that long ago since she helped weed the backyard, but those weeds were right back where they used to be. The people there, however, were more interested in something else. 
“Ooh, Chi, that was fast.” 
“Ah.” 
“Ooh!” 
“Hmm?” 
“Ooh, Chiho!” 
“Chi-Sis!!” 
It was a packed house. Some were calm and composed; some looked exhausted; some like they had just gotten back from a day at the office; and some unconscious while riding on other people’s backs. And one of them, her face a little hidden away, was a little softer-voiced than the rest. 
“…Chiho.” 
“Yusa…” 
At that moment, a waterfall of tears began to flow from Chiho’s eyes; she couldn’t hold them back. Chiho let impulse guide her as she made one more leap forward and into the other girl’s arms. 
“Yusaaaaaa! I’m so haaaaappyyyyyy!!” 
“Ch-Chiho…” 
“I-I-I was soooo worried! Really, really worried! I thought, oh, what if I never got to see, snif, nhh…ennhhhhh…” 
“Chiho… Thanks… I’m sorry, I’m sorry I made you worry…!” 
Emi gingerly stroked Chiho’s shoulders as she cried into her chest. 
“Hi, Chi-Sis! …Waph!” 
“Alas Ramus…” 
Feeling a small hand tug at her skirt, Chiho looked down at the young face before her and gasped. In a moment, she was kneeling and held the child in her arms. 
“Thank heavens you’re okay…! Just… This is just so wonderful…!” 
“Ahh… Chi-Sis, don’t cry…” 
“Wehhhhh…” 
Alas Ramus, oddly eager to play the older-sister figure ever since she regrouped with Acieth, patted Chiho’s hair. 
After taking a few moments to compose herself, Chiho took another look at the assembled group. Realizing Ashiya was carrying Gabriel on his back, her eyes opened wide—and seeing an unfamiliar man on Maou’s back, she turned to Emi again. 
“Yusa! Yusa, is this…?” 
“Uh-huh,” Emi said, nodding a bit bashfully. “I’ll introduce you once he wakes up. It’s my dad.” 
“Yusa!!!!” 
Overcome with emotion, she let go of Alas Ramus and grabbed Emi yet again. 
“Wow, what a tearjerker, huh?” 
With a snarky jab, Amane opened up the window to Room 202 and stuck her head outside. 
“Nice to see you’re okay, Ashiya. I gave her the message for ya!” 
“My thanks to you.” Shirou Ashiya, clad in his UniClo outfit with the stretched-out collar instead of his Great Demon General armor, gave Amane a wry smile. 
“Did anything happen while we were gone, Amane?” asked Suzuno, still in her robes. Amane laughed and motioned with her chin. 
“Um, duh? If Aunt Mikitty came to visit you guys, you just know some stuff went down over here, too.” 
“Amane?” 
Shiba, who returned to the apartment with the others, had just given Amane what, in Maou’s mind, seemed like a pretty harsh lecture. “Well,” the landlord sniffed, “we could never house Ms. Yusa’s father in Mr. Maou’s or Ms. Kamazuki’s rooms, and I hardly think we are in any shape to send them to a hospital or Ms. Yusa’s apartment. So let me open up Room 101 for the time being. You can put your father in there, Ms. Yusa, and I think you should find it suitably clean.” 
“Oh, um, thank you,” Emi said, appreciating the gesture even as Chiho still clung to her. 
“Mr. Ashiya, if I could trouble you to carry that wonderful young man over to my house for me? I need to fetch the key to Room 101 anyway, so I’ll gladly go with you.” 
“C-certainly,” Ashiya said, his face just as strained as Maou’s. Assorted anxieties crossed both of their minds. What tragic fate awaited Gabriel inside Shiba’s private residence? And after all that work to return to Sasazuka safely, if Ashiya blundered into Shiba’s house, would he ever come back alive? 
“Right,” Maou said, gauging the crowd as he rebalanced Nord on his back. “Let’s go into my place. Our stuff is coming pretty soon, and this is getting kinda heavy, so…” 
“Your…stuff?” the similarly encumbered Emi asked. 
“Oh, assorted things,” Suzuno cryptically replied with a grin. “I suppose we will owe Emeralda another favor soon.” Then, realizing something, she turned to Amane. “By the way, how is Lucifer doing?” 
For Amane, the question seemed awkward somehow. She turned her eyes to the side. “Yeah, um, Urushihara… Well, thanks to that ‘stuff’ I mentioned, he’s in the hospital right now.” 
“What? He’s still not discharged yet?” 
Amane’s statement was shocking enough. Chiho’s reaction to it—the fact she already knew this bit of news—only made everyone more uncomfortable. 
“Eesh,” Maou sighed. “And I was hoping things were a bit more chill back here. Well, at least we’re over the hump.” 
He flashed a smile to Chiho, still latched on to Emi and shedding tears. 
“Glad to be back, Chi.” 
Chi replied with a world-beating smile of her own. 
“Maou,” she chirped, “Yusa, Alas Ramus, Ashiya, Suzuno, Acieth… 
“Welcome back!!!!”