Hataraku Maou-sama! - Volume 11 - Chapter 1

THE DEVIL AND THE HERO HAVE A GRAND DISAGREEMENT 
The bank account had been wrung completely dry. 
The reason couldn’t be simpler: She had used up all the money. 
What on? Well, first, there was that new cell phone that didn’t even belong to her. She had chosen a low-cost model, but she had to buy it outright instead of through a new contract, so even with an outdated brand, the monetary outlay was considerable. 
Next, there was the clothing. She had procured several outfits, suited for a middle-aged adult male; and covering everything from undies to shoes, no matter how much you bargain-hunted, cost a certain amount to cover. 
That, and the debt repayment. She was reasonably confident about her savings up to now, but the sheer extent of the debt was so completely beyond her imagination that it placed unexpected pressure on her plans. 
All of this—coming due at the same time, no less—had drained her cash. 
“Um,” the voice of a man in the prime of his life said, beating against her eardrums, “shouldn’t you have been planning your finances a little better?” 
“Oh, so you think it’s all right for me to owe him money forever? I should just let that demon of a debt collector harangue me for the foreseeable future?” 
“I-I’m not saying that…” The man chose his words carefully as he rebuked her. “If you have no job and not enough funding… I mean, there is no guarantee we’ll have any income after next month. Couldn’t we use my funds, or set up monthly payments or the like?” 
“I don’t like being in debt.” 
“Well, no, neither do I, but—” 
“And if we go on for days and days without settling this, who knows what the interest is gonna look like?” 
“But—” 
“Plus, what I’m worried about right now is paying people back karmically, you know? For everything I’ve had to borrow from everyone. If I can’t get that squared away by my own volition, I can’t really move on.” 
The scene was the living room of a fairly fancy apartment. In the middle of it sat a dour-looking daughter and a harried-looking father, sitting across from each other around a table with a cutely patterned cloth on it. The harried father suddenly stood up, opening the curtain on the wall. 
“Then how about this, Emilia?” 
Normally he would have more of a stern presence in his dour daughter’s life, but now his face bore a look of resignation as he gazed at the cityscape. 
“Could we at least move to the Villa Rosa Sasazuka apartments? I know they live there, but you have good friends in Sasazuka too, don’t you? Bell, and Sasaki, and…” 
“…” The girl called Emilia let off a sigh soft enough for her father not to notice. “I told you, I can’t leave here right away.” She stood up and walked next to her father. “I mean, I know a lot of stuff has happened, but I like this place. I like this neighborhood. And I don’t even have the money for moving expenses right now. I mean, the way it’s worked out, there’s only about a five-thousand-yen rent difference between here and there, and if I can live cheaply enough, I’ll have my last month’s salary before too long, but I can’t do anything until then, all right?” 
“…Ah.” 
“Thanks to everyone else, my ‘enemy’s’ gonna be gone for a while. If I can find a job fast enough, I should be able to make it out of this.” 
The sound of his daughter’s voice didn’t indicate to the father that this was impossible, or empty bravado on her part. But his intuition told him that this wasn’t her entire motivation. She had, he thought, some other reason to not want to leave here. But his daughter was grown now; she had overcome countless obstacles. He had neither the right nor the courage to wrest the true reason out of her. 
“But what about you, Father? Do you think your new life…well, not ‘new life’ exactly, but do you think it’s going okay in Sasazuka?” 
“Well… Acieth is whining at me about how she can’t see the stars at night as well as before.” 
“That’s downtown for you.” His daughter laughed, then lowered her voice. “But what about…you know? Think you have any clues yet?” 
“No,” her father replied gravely. “Nothing. There’s nothing to go on right now, so…” 
“All right. But you’re sure about this?” 
The daughter, Emilia Justina, turned toward her father, Nord Justina. 
“You’re sure that Laila…that my mother is here on Earth?” 
“She…should be,” came the wavering reply. 
Emilia frowned at it. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to attack you, but…” 
“No, no. You can’t help it.” 
Emilia—the former Hero known as Emi Yusa—looked down at the neighborhood of Eifukucho. 
“But the fact that we have no idea what Laila wants, or what she’s trying to accomplish, is really starting to worry me.” 
 
The environment surrounding Emi Yusa’s life had undergone a rapid flurry of epic changes over the past month. 
Returning to Ente Isla to track down the whereabouts of her parents, Emi wound up caught in unexpected trouble, preventing her from returning to Japan when she had planned to. For a while, she was helpless at the hands of three different forces: Efzahan, the Eastern Island kingdom that declared war on the rest of the world; the Malebranche demons that formed the core of the so-called New Devil King’s Army; and Olba Meiyer, who conspired with the heavens to make the other two players do his bidding. 
Sadao Maou, the Devil King Satan, quickly realized that both Emi and Alas Ramus—the fragment of the world-bearing Yesod seed that Emi held within her—needed help. But as he twiddled his thumbs, his close associate Shirou Ashiya (aka the Great Demon General Alciel) and even Emi’s father Nord Justina got caught in the conspiracy, forced to return to Ente Isla. 
So together with his neighbor, Church cleric and (tentative) Great Demon General Suzuno Kamazuki, and the fellow Yesod-born Acieth Alla, Maou made a grand journey back to Ente Isla to rescue Ashiya, Alas Ramus—and Emi, the greatest present obstacle to his world-domination plans. 
Olba and the heavens sought to use Alciel and the Malebranche to create a scenario where the Hero Emilia once again routed the Devil King’s Army from the Eastern Island—a ruse that Ashiya quickly picked up on. He knew that the heavens—along with Gabriel, an archangel among their forces—had their eyes set upon other goals. 
And as the battle unfolded across the Efzahan capital of Heavensky, it was ultimately Maou and Acieth who stole the show. While Maou rescued Emi and Ashiya from the field of battle, Suzuno rescued Emi’s friend Emeralda from the unfair inquisition she was enduring. 
This gave them the tools needed to keep anyone from further laying hands upon Emi. But it also made life harder for her. Olba had seized upon her weaknesses. She had yearned for Maou, the greatest nemesis of her life, to save her from him. And she had reunited with her father, a reunion she thought would never happen. It was good for her, perhaps, but it had robbed her of all motivation to remain a Hero. 
The Hero Emilia Justina, the fighter fated to slay the Devil King Satan who threatened all of Ente Isla, was no more. 
But just because her father was here and her hatred for Maou had slackened a little didn’t mean that everything was all neatly wrapped up. Laila—Emi’s mother and the woman behind nearly all the drama around Emi, Maou, and countless Ente Islans—was still missing, her motivations unclear. As were the motivations for Olba and the heavens to make Emi and Ashiya simulate the liberation of the Eastern Island all over again—that remained a mystery as well. 
And what of the mysterious astronaut, the one working and conniving behind Gabriel, Camael, Raguel, and the other angels? 
To Emi, who no longer had the quest to defeat a Devil King motivating her, this was too wide an ocean to swim, the currents too choppy and transitional to read. 
 
“I’m home, Mommy!” came a bright voice behind the troubled-looking Emi. She turned around, relaxing her expression a little. Nord joined her, a tad perplexed at his daughter. 
“Hi, Alas Ramus. Where’d you get that balloon from?” 
The young girl was carrying a yellow balloon—not a string attached to it, but the balloon itself, carefully, like a summer watermelon. 
“They were passing them out at the station. Advertising for some new wireless net provider.” 
The reply did not come from Alas Ramus. It was Suzuno Kamazuki, who accompanied Nord to Emi’s apartment as his bodyguard. 
“Grampa! Balloon!” 
“Ooh, it sure is,” Nord replied, smiling awkwardly at the proud Alas Ramus. 
The way the family structure around her worked, Alas Ramus was Emi’s daughter, if not by blood. Her “sister” Acieth Alla called Nord “Pop,” but as long as Emi was “Mommy” to Alas Ramus, it only followed that Nord was a grandfather figure to her. Emi had long accepted the “Mommy” role, and watching Nord struggle at being called “Grampa” made her wince a little. 
“Thanks, Bell. Did you behave, Alas Ramus?” 
“Uh-huh!” the girl shouted. 
“Indeed. She was a perfect child.” 
Nord always had security with him, just in case. He was going to stay in Room 101 of Villa Rosa Sasazuka tonight, but whenever he had to go out, Suzuno went with him. She certainly had the free time for it, although she had gone with Alas Ramus just now so that Emi and Nord could discuss their finances in peace. 
“Ooh, but no tellin’ ’bout the donut!” 
“Oh, did you have a snack outside?” 
“Ooh, no tellin’! It’s a secret!” 
“We had best explain to her what a ‘secret’ is,” Suzuno said meekly at this bout of self-incrimination. “She ran up to the donut shop and refused to budge, so I spoiled her a little. I apologize.” 
“Oh, that’s all right. I’ll pay you back later. Did you say ‘thank you’ to your big sis here, Alas Ramus?” 
“Uh-huh! But no tellin’!” 
The child looked up at Suzuno and gave a mischievous smile, balloon still in hand. She knew she had shared an experience with her, but she just couldn’t hide it from anyone else. It made the grown-ups in the room smile. 
“Hopefully this will not ruin her appetite.” 
“Oh, it’ll take more than a donut to do that.” 
“Very well,” Suzuno nodded as she watched Emi and Nord. “So, have you worked things out?” 
“Not quite,” Nord began, pleadingly. 
“It’s not gonna be easy,” Emi interrupted, “but I don’t think we’re out on the street yet.” 
“But, Emilia…” 
Suzuno smiled at the display of family politics. 
“I told you,” Emi fired back, “this is my problem. And it’ll be fine! Compared to everything before now, being jobless and in debt barely even qualifies as trouble.” 
“But…” Nord looked around, upset. “Bell, at least, I’m sure could…” 
Suzuno shook her head. “If that is what Emilia wishes, it is not for me to intrude.” 
“Thanks, Bell.” 
“But…” 
Emi smiled boldly at the lost-looking man. 
“Now, Nord,” Suzuno deflected, “we had best return to Sasazuka soon. Emilia has a guest coming, and we have plans of our own to handle.” 
“Er, yes…” 
“Emilia, Alas Ramus, I will see both of you later.” 
“Sure. Thanks for watching over Father.” 
“Bye, Suzu-sis! Bye, Grampa!” 
“Y-yes,” Nord said as he filed out of the apartment. He gave the building several furtive glances back as they walked the short distance to Eifukucho station. 
“Nord,” Suzuno asked as she observed this, “are you worried about Emilia?” 
“Hmm? Well, no, not at this point, but…” 
“I am.” 
“Emilia’s hardly a young child anymore, and… Hmm?” 
The casual admission made the depressed father stop cold. 
“I know how Emilia works. With all the debt she rang up the other day, I am sure she absolutely insists upon paying everything back by her own power, yes?” 
“Exactly. I told her I could cover some of it myself, but…” 
They passed through the Eifukucho station gate and stepped up on the platform to wait for a train. 
“At far too young an age, Emilia was forced to bear far too heavy a burden,” Suzuno stated. “Now that the burden has vanished, she is unable to find solace. Either she needs some powerful spark to divert her mind, or we will just have to wait for her to acclimate to her current situation.” 
“…” Nord nodded and looked down, face troubled once more. “And I am the one who placed that burden upon her…” 
“I can absolutely ensure you that Emilia does not feel that way. If anything, her current irritation is aimed almost fully at Laila. You, meanwhile, are the embodiment of everything Emilia strove for while bearing that burden. And now that you have miraculously come back together, I am sure she wants no burden to be placed upon you.” 
“Well, I’ll tell you, as her father, it makes me feel pathetic.” His face remained turned down. “I hardly did anything for her as a parent in the first place…” 
Tomorrow marked the official date of Nord’s move from his temporary lodgings in Mitaka to Room 101 of Villa Rosa Sasazuka. Emi had strongly suggested he find anyplace besides that apartment, but he had steadfastly refused. 
Given how they had just made an incredibly improbable reunion after several years, one would expect Emi to invite him to live together, in her apartment at Urban Heights Eifukucho. But reality made that less than advisable. Nord was too close to the core mysteries of the Yesod fragments, far more than anyone else involved, and he needed to be carefully protected. Villa Rosa was at least some distance from Emi’s place. The idea of leaving Nord alone in her apartment while she went off to work concerned her, and he could hardly join her on the job. 
So in the end, she decided that, for better or for worse, Villa Rosa was full of people who understood Nord’s predicament and, in a pinch, could be counted on to help. There was also the fact that Emi’s apartment certainly had the free space, but was set up for single living—a multigenerational family in the place led to assorted inconveniences. 
All this also meant, however, that Nord could not provide day-to-day support for Emi, the daughter he had just met for the first time in six years. He suggested at least helping with her debt a little bit, but even that was turned down today, much to his chagrin. 
Suzuno looked up at this chagrined father with mixed feelings of her own. His daughter was in a bind, and not only couldn’t he do anything about it, but she actively refused his aid. The worry and disappointment were wholly understandable. 
But to Suzuno, the situation didn’t seem nearly as dire as it did on the surface. Her biggest creditor, after all, was none other than Sadao Maou. Maou, who took the kind of regained power he had when he attempted to conquer the world and used it to march right back to the MgRonald by Hatagaya rail station and catch up on his borrowed shifts. The Devil King Satan, back to his normal life, willing to accept repayment for the debt the Hero owed him in money—Japanese yen, no less. After all they had been through, worrying about this turn of events seemed pointless. 
“Though certainly,” she whispered as she recalled the day after Nord and Emi had reunited, “I think you could have handled it better, Devil King.” 
Not long after Emi and Nord returned from Ente Isla, Villa Rosa landlord Miki Shiba generously unlocked the door to Room 101 and let them use it for Nord’s recuperation. Suzuno was there as well, to check up on his condition. She was not left alone for long. 
“Hey, Emilia the Hero? I’m comin’ in.” 
Sadao Maou, barging in from upstairs, expressed a sinister smile as he made his way inside. 
“Ah… Maou…” came the recognizing whisper from Nord. Emi let him inside, still not sure how to deal with him. 
“You know why I’m here, right, Emilia? Why I’m visiting? Huh?” 
Emi raised an eyebrow. This wasn’t how Maou normally spoke; it seemed far too contrived. “…What?” she ventured, fully aware of the kind of debt she owed him. 
“Oh,” he replied, “I just figured I’d like to get repaid sooner rather than later, is all.” He took out a piece of ruled paper ripped out of a notebook and thrust it at her. It was filled with handwritten numbers. Emi, dubious, picked it up and gave it a quick look…then turned to Suzuno, face drained of color. 
“What is this?” she barely managed. 
Suzuno peeked at the paper. Titled INVOICE up top in ballpoint pen, the table of figures began with the cost of obtaining Maou’s scooter license and continued on down, covering every expense Maou incurred for Emi’s sake from the day she went missing in Ente Isla. It was Maou’s way of demanding compensation for the yen he’d laid out toward getting Emi back to Earth. 
Emi knew, regardless of past grudges, that she’d have to pay Maou back for all of this. But her shaky voice was all due to the number at the bottom. 
“I know you’re gonna have a few expenses going forward and you have to find a job and all, so I’m not gonna expect it all at once. But you’re an old pro at life in Japan by now, yeah? You know they got a little something called ‘interest’ here?” 
“That…” 
“Devil King, this is simply too much,” Suzuno winced. Maou paid the reaction no mind. 
“Ohhh? I’m sorry, do we have a complaint with this? Because this is a lowball estimate, let me tell you. I’m a fair Devil King, so I’ve taken off everything that was mostly my own fault. This is what’s left.” 
The grand total Maou had outlined in the invoice was 500,000 yen. It was a figure that anyone could tell was all but insurmountable for an unemployed Emi. 
The expenditures began with the salary loss Maou incurred for the regular work shifts he skipped. They continued with the fees for the two failed scooter exams, along with the cost for the upcoming third attempt. There was all the water, food, and camping gear they had bought for their journey into Ente Isla, along with the costs for a new phone to replace Maou’s current one (which, shockingly, still worked). The biggest cost of all, however, was for the scooter itself. 
Suzuno kept wincing as she ran down all the figures. Then she noticed something. “Devil King,” she asked, “what does this line ‘or three hundred fifty thousand yen—discuss’ mean?” 
“Ah, right. Well spotted, Suzuno. I wanted to negotiate with you a little too. The Gyros you bought—would it be okay if you gave me one?” 
“What?” 
“You said it was about five hundred thousand yen for two, right? I kinda like my bike, so I was thinking maybe I could forgive half of that in exchange for one.” 
The Honta Gyro-Roof vehicles Suzuno purchased boasted three wheels, industrial-level horsepower, a roof, and a lot of other features you didn’t see in your typical scooter. Brand-new, it cost several times what a typical two-wheeler would run. Suzuno bought hers used, but they still ran to half a million yen total. Maou had driven one of them around Ente Isla, going so far as to call it “Mobile Dullahan III,” but thanks to the assorted nonsense he got into over there, both of the Gyro-Roofs were still in Ente Isla. Emeralda and Albert said they would gather up all their neglected belongings and send them back to Japan, although that all still needed to be worked out. 
“Half of that five-hundred-thousand-yen figure is the two hundred and fifty thousand for the Gyro, but if you aren’t willing to let me have it, you know, I wouldn’t mind some other model, either. I know these Gyros are hella expensive, but if I ain’t picky, I can pick up a 50cc job for a hundred K or so. So I figure, hey, if you aren’t giving me a Gyro, I figured we could set the total to three hundred and fifty thousand yen instead.” 
“…I refuse,” Suzuno barked back, shaking her head. “I own both of those scooters, and once I have you repair the unauthorized beating you gave them, I intend to sell them back. With your demonic force, it should be a breeze to make them good as new, no?” 
“Well, so be it!” Maou shouted, apparently expecting this. “Guess it’ll be three hundred and fifty thousand then, Emi.” 
“Hold it, Devil King. This entire invoice is ridiculous in itself…” 
Maou held a palm up to the cleric’s face to stop her. “Butt out, Suzuno. If you won’t let me have the Gyro, you’ve no part in this anyway. I didn’t put in any of the money me and Acieth used that wasn’t related to Emi. If you don’t like it, well, I still got the receipts for the camping gear. I got documentation for every single thing on here, okay?” 
“…” Emi fell silent, hand still clutching the handwritten receipt. 
“Wait, you devil,” Suzuno said, voice ratcheting up. “Whether you take my Gyro or buy your own, what basis do you have for making Emilia pay for your scooter? This is nothing like when I purchased a bicycle for you. If you had already owned a scooter and crashed it during the journey, that would be one matter, but this is just you having a childish desire for motorized transport!” 
“Huh? What’re you talking about?” Maou scoffed. “If that’s how you’re seeing it, I could always demand another reward, if you want.” 
“Reward?” 
“Yeah. I mean, me, as long as Ashiya and Alas Ramus were okay, I would’ve gladly abandoned Emi over there. Maybe I played a big part with saving her dad’s fields or whatever, but did you see anyone over there ordering me to get the Hero Emilia away from the Eastern Island?” 
“No, but—” 
“Emi and Alas Ramus are fused together, but if you think that means I wanted to save both of ’em equally, you’re out of your mind, man. Alas Ramus is like a daughter to me, but Emi? She’s my enemy, through and through.” 
““…”” 
The two girls had no response for this fractured logic. 
“So you see? I rescued my sworn enemy over there, and in exchange, all I’m asking for is a lousy, cheap little scooter. You should appreciate my generosity, instead of bitchin’ at me all day.” 
This was jaw-dropping in two different ways. No matter how much griping he did on the way, to Suzuno, Maou seemed to show genuine concern for Emi during their journey. He was even kind enough to leave Emi to herself in Japan, until Nord woke up. He was right—this experience didn’t mean Maou and Emi had kissed and made up. But did he really have to go on like this in front of Nord? It seemed terribly tacky of him. 
“This is all too—” 
“…All right. It’s fine,” Emi interrupted with a sigh as she nodded. “So this will settle it?” 
“E-Emilia?!” a confused Suzuno fired back. 
“If…” Emi looked straight at Maou. “If we’re truly even with this, then it’s a bargain, if anything.” 
Her voice was flat. Suzuno couldn’t guess what drove her to say it. But as she looked at Maou, she realized that he was just as taken aback as she was. The response marked her total agreement to his terms—exactly what he wanted. 
“Oh-hohh? Coming out swinging, huh? I’m talking three hundred and fifty thousand here, Emi, you heard it, right? Like, three hundred fifty thousand? And I only accept actual Japanese yen, minted by the Bank of Japan, all right?” 
“Yes, I know,” Emi said with a nod, retaining an air of calm. “What of it?” 
“What of…? Like…” Maou, for his part, had lost all sense of calm. “Um, are you good for it, or…?” 
“What do you want? You’re the one demanding it, aren’t you? I know I owe you one. I’ll pay it.” 
“Oh…um, really?” 
“But come back once you work this part out.” 
“Eh, which part?” 
Emi tapped on the line that included the scooter. “This is just a guesstimate, right? Find out how much the scooter you want’s gonna be, work out the insurance and all that stuff, then put all that on the invoice.” 
“Uh, yeah… Sure, um…” 
Maou nodded several times as he took the invoice back. 
“Is that all?” 
“Uh, uhmm…yeah,” he awkwardly replied. 
“All right. So, not to be rude, but could you leave me alone? I’m gonna have to go shopping for a lot of things.” 
“S-sure thing. Sorry.” 
The monotone flatness of Emi’s voice made the tension of the past ease as Maou cautiously left Room 101, the picture of dejection. 
“Maou,” Suzuno said to his back—“…!”—only to fall silent once more. 
There was something in his back pocket—a thin magazine, rolled up and folded every which way after he sat on it—and it made her lose her voice. 
“Ugh… This is what happens when you keep doing things in the most roundabout way possible.” 
Boarding the train that rolled into Eifukucho station, Suzuno sighed as she sunk into a seat, not bothering to care about the wrinkles it’d put on her kimono’s belt. 
A week had passed since that initial invoice. The scooter price was still TBD, Maou unable to come to a firm decision, but Emi had already bought him a new phone and paid him for the past two failed scooter license exams, the camping equipment, and half of the week’s worth of part-time shifts he missed. That just left the other half of his salary, but as far as Nord could tell, Emi’s bank account was firmly at zero. 
He wondered how she drained it that fast, even with everything she owed to Maou, but apparently Emi said she had another debt to repay to Emeralda as well. These were the travel expenses she borrowed from her immediately after reaching Ente Isla. She had promised to repay it, and as she insisted to Nord, she simply had to follow through on that. Emeralda wasn’t going to harangue her for it the way Maou did, of course; it didn’t need to be paid back, and so there was no particular deadline. But every time the topic came up, Emi said the same thing: “If I don’t settle everything, I can’t move on.” 
Gently jostled by the train, Suzuno gave a tragic look to Nord, his head currently in his hands. He, too, knew that Maou was Satan, king of the demons, the man who made Ente Isla suffer for his selfish goals. But given how involved the elder Justina was with the Yesod fragments long before Emi and Suzuno knew about them, he couldn’t find it in himself to peg Satan as his sworn enemy. Instead, he agonized over the fact that this loan shark was bilking Emi for everything she had—and she accepted it, refusing any help to boot. It would put any parent in a bind. 
“I suppose,” Suzuno said to herself, “the future Chiho wants is still a faraway thing, no matter how close it may seem.” 
Indeed. A world conquest that involved the Hero and Devil King on friendly terms? Would there be no realizing that teenager’s dream, the result of her honest love for both of them? As Suzuno pondered over it, the Keio Inokashira Line train stopped at Meidaimae station. It was time to transfer to another line. 
“For now, Nord, let’s just focus on getting your belongings in order.” 
“Yes…” 
If the far-flung future seemed too ominous to consider, it was always better to focus on the things in front of you. Such was the thought on Suzuno’s mind as the two of them boarded a train bound for Keio Hachioji station. 
 
Later that afternoon… 
Rika Suzuki was staring up at an apartment building, following the map on her smartphone. Her eyes opened wide. It was luxe, that much was clear. 
“Maaaan, she’s got a nice place…” 
She was headed for Room 505 of Urban Heights Eifukucho, an apartment that was several levels above Rika’s one-room walk-up over in Takadanobaba. 
“Is that, like, a penthouse on the top floor? Wow! What made her want to live in a place like this, I wonder?” 
The exterior was shocking enough. The presence of a condo-style lobby turned her eyes into saucers. 
“I bet she’ll have one hell of a story for me today.” 
Putting her phone into her shoulder bag, Rika repositioned the souvenir box of cream puffs inside and walked through the front entrance, more than a little excited. 
She was here to see Emi, to have her tell the story of her life, and of Ente Isla—a world Rika still couldn’t will herself to fully believe. It had been just over a week since the missing Emi returned home, and now that things had settled a bit, Emi found it time to invite her good friend over. 
As she went inside, Rika spotted someone by the entrance, in front of the intercom. A resident, perhaps? A small woman wearing a beret and a bag that looked too big for her slight figure. Rika paid her little mind, but the moment the automatic doors whizzed open to greet her, the girl whirled around. 
“Um, I apologize for the awkward quessstion…” 
“Y-yes?” Rika half-shouted, startled. 
“I needed to see someone in this builllding, but the door on this side won’t ooopen for me…” 
“Oh.” 
The woman with the strange drawl didn’t look too terribly concerned as she pointed out the automatic glass door leading into the apartment hallway. 
“It says ‘automaaatic’ on it, but it won’t even open maaanually for me. What should I dooo?” 
Well, duh. It’s an auto-lock door. You’re supposed to call someone on the intercom to have them open it. 
“Oh, um, you can use this panel to call a room…” 
“Call…a roooom?” 
The small woman arched her eyebrows, looking genuinely puzzled. 
“Well, I mean, you use this keypad to type in a room number, and then you press the ‘call’ button to have them open up for you.” 
“Ooh, reeeally?” The woman gave a glance at Rika, then the panel, looking a little surprised. “I thought there was some secret cooode I had to get.” 
We got a weird one here, Rika thought. 
“Y-yeah. Well, hopefully that helps. You can go ahead.” 
“Umm, s-sorrry again…” 
“Yes?” 
“It looks like the numbers only go from zero to niiine… What do you do if you want to put in a number higher than thaaat?” 
“…Huh?” Rika murmured, unsure what she was being asked. 
“Well, I want to visit Room 505, but there’s no ‘505’ button here, sooo…” 
As if there would be. It was odd to the extreme, running into someone in the twenty-first century who didn’t know how to operate a number pad. But the look of surprise Rika gave the woman was for another reason. 
“Um, what is iiit?” 
“Did you say Room 505?” 
“Mm-hmm.” 
Rika took a moment to scan the clothing this woman wore, from top to bottom. The main thing it told her was that she was…well, different. In a way Rika couldn’t quite put into words. It seemed to her like the fancy-looking outfit, as well as the bag under her shoulder, were made with some sort of traditional techniques, and not the kind you saw often in Japan. And she didn’t know why she hadn’t picked up on it before now, but the hair protruding from under the beret—and the eyes staring at Rika right now—were both a beautiful shade of bluish green, something no Japanese person would be naturally sporting. 
The look made Rika recall someone in her memory. 
“Um, you wouldn’t be…Emeralda, would you?” 
“Y-yesss?!” the petite woman squeaked, taking a surprised step back. “And, and youuu are…? Have we met somewhere beforrre? You’re native to Japaaan, right?” 
“N-no, um, we haven’t met exactly, but…” Rika took a step back of her own, peering intently at the woman. “I heard from a girlfriend of mine that Emi used to have a friend who was really short, with green hair, and spoke with kind of a drawl. She said her name was Emeralda…um, Emeralda…” 

 

“Emeralda Etuuuva.” The woman peered up at her. “Wow, what a surpriiise! And ‘Emi’ is Emilia’s name in Japan, riiight? Does that mean you’re Rika Suzuuuki?” 
“Yep, sure am. Did Emi tell you about me?” 
“Well, sooometimes Emilia talks about people on the phooone, so…” 
“Huh. Kinda funny how we knew about each other through two different people.” Rika smiled and typed “505” into the keypad. 
“By the waaay, this ‘girrrlfriend’ of yours…” Emeralda gave Rika a look as she pressed the call button. “Could it be Chiho Saaasaki? Or Suzuno Kamazuuuki, maybe?” 
“Yeah, pretty much.” Rika gave a distracted smile. “Not that I should be crowing about this, but we’ve gone through a bunch of stuff, and I kinda got caught up in it a bit ago. Like, about Ente Isla, and things. I came here because Emi—er, Emilia—said she wanted to give me the whole story from the start, but I wasn’t expecting another Ente Islan visitor, too! Or did Emi schedule this today ’cause you’d be around?” 
“Nooo, I don’t think so. In fact, I don’t think she—” 
“Hi, Rika!” came the sudden cheerful voice from the intercom. “I’ll buzz you in right…um. Is that Eme over there?!” 
“Hello! Sorry for the lack of noootice.” 
Emeralda smiled and waved at the camera next to the keypad that Rika helpfully pointed out to her. 
“Wait, so… What’re the two of you doing?” 
She must have been right, Rika thought. Emi had no idea she was here. She and Emeralda gave each other wry smiles and looked at the camera. “We just ran into each other,” they said simultaneously, Emeralda extending out the final “r” sound a bit. 
“…” 
This really was a fancy apartment. So fancy that the advanced intercom system even picked up on Emi’s silent trembling. 
“This is a total surprise. You never said you were coming, and all of a sudden you’re all buddy-buddy with Rika…” 
Still unable to hide her shock, Emi brought some freshly brewed tea. 
“You sure you’ve never met each other?” 
“Well, through other peeeople,” Emeralda said with a smile, borrowing Rika’s turn of phrase. 
“Now I’m really starting to wonder what you’ve been saying about me,” Rika added with a friendly elbow to Emi’s side. 
“Um, n-nothing bad or anything!” She looked to Emeralda for assistance. 
“I think she said ‘aaaffable’? Real ‘clean-cut’ and ‘chill,’ whatever that meeeans.” 
“Yeah, I’m sure you aren’t too familiar with those terms. Quite an honor, though!” 
“Hee-hee! Ohh, but I wonderrred… Did Sasaki and Bell say anything about meee?” 
“I just heard a little bit before Maou and Suzuno went to Ente Isla. Just, like, general stuff about you. Chiho gave me a quick rundown of Emi’s life in Maou—I mean, the Devil King Satan’s apartment, and that’s when I heard about you.” 
“Ooh, don’t worry, I know all your Japanese naaames, too. So what did they saaay about me?” 
“Well, you and…Albert, right? You were both old friends of Emi’s, and you were this really cute and powerful sorceress or whatever. Like, as powerful as Emi. And that’s about it, actually.” 
“Aww! Sasaki is so niiice.” Emeralda gave a satisfied smile as she sipped. 
“Oh, also she said you eat a lot for your size.” 
“…Mmm… Well, I have no excuse for thaaat, I guess.” 
The truth apparently hurt. Or, at least, hurt enough to make Emeralda freeze for a moment—something that didn’t escape the other two girls’ notice. 
“But it’s just because all the food here is so goood,” Emeralda continued as her eyes swiveled over to the souvenir box on the table. 
“Heh. Good thing I bought a party-size box,” Rika said as she opened it up. 

“…Um, what aaare those?” Emeralda said as she saw the light, flaky, cream-laden pastries lined up inside. 
“Cream puffs. You don’t know ’em?” 
“Creeeam…?” 
“Yeah, I guess I just fed you some regular cake last time you came,” Emi said. “Do you need a fork or something?” 
“You don’t eat a cream puff with a fork, Emi! A real woman just chomps right into ’em.” 
“Is it kind of like breeead?” 
“Not…bread, exactly, I don’t think. But try it. It’s from this joint that just opened in Takadanobaba. It’s so full of college students all the time, it’s hard to get in sometimes!” 
“Mmm…” 
Like a cat cautiously pawing at a new and unfamiliar toy, Emeralda half-stared at the cream puffs before slowly taking one in hand. 
“Oooh, so liiight…but it feels heavy insiiide?” 
“Don’t hold it so tight like that. You’ll squirt all the cream out.” 
Emeralda nodded, still intently gazing upon the confection. 
“Here we gooo!” 
With a final drawl, she took a big bite of the rather large cream puff with her small mouth. The next moment, her eyes opened up as much as humanly possible. 
“It’s sooooooooooooooooo goooooooooooooooooooooood!!” 
“Whoa!” 
The squeal of ecstasy had a sort of bloodcurdling effect to it that honestly startled Rika. 
“So liiight! And melllty! And sweet! And, ugghhh, so liiight again!” 
“Again?” 
Emi and Rika gave her confused looks before Rika slammed a fist on her own palm. 
“Ohh, I bet that’s the vanilla bean aroma doing its work on ya.” 
“Ahh, that makes sense.” 
“That’s a regular custard cream puff you’re eating right now, but the ones wrapped in that yellow paper have sweet-potato cream. That’s an autumn exclusive.” 
The description made Emeralda’s eyes sparkle anew. 
“Emiliaaaa!!” 
“…All right, all right. We can buy some later. As long as you don’t mind somewhere local to me.” 
“Hooraaaaaaaay!!!” 
The sight of Emeralda reaching for a second puff while her mouth was still full of the first one made Rika smile and shrug. “I tell you,” she said, “if I weren’t actually seeing all you guys, I’d never believe this Hero and Devil King and grand sorceress crap for a second.” 
Emi and Emeralda exchanged glances. 
“So, um, I know we all got a little distracted, but what brought you here all of a sudden, Eme?” 
“Fwuhh?” 
“It’s got to be something really important if it’s you personally coming over.” 
“Fwore hwfhh. Arr-hhoo hafwuff wffuu hurrh woofooo.” 
The alien language came from the supremely satisfied mouth of Emeralda after she took a big bite of the second cream puff. 
“Ooh, but the pastries on this planet are so goood,” she managed after a moment, wiping the powdered sugar off her lips and taking a big swig of tea. “Welll, the reason I’m here is because I have something to reporrrt to you, Emilia.” 
“Report?” 
“Mm-hmm. I apologize for interrupting you and Rikaaa, but I think it probably connects with what you wanted to talk to herrr about.” 
She quietly placed her teacup on the saucer. 
“Olbaaa,” she continued in the same tone of voice, “well, he’s been taaalking.” 
“What?!” 
“Whoa!” 
Emi shot to her feet, almost kicking the table over in the process. It was up to Rika to keep it upright. 
“So I thought I’d reporrrt to you on what we know right now.” Emeralda turned to Rika. “Is that all riiight?” 
“Well, if it’s that important, you can go ahead first,” she said with a nod. “I’m just butting in more than anything.” 
“Thank youuu! …Ahem!” she coughed as she bowed. Then she narrowed her eyes and looked at the surface of her half-full cup of tea. Seeing the look in her eyes made Rika instinctively hold her breath a moment. This was no longer the sugar-craving little girl with cartoon hearts shooting out of her with every bite of Rika’s cream puffs. It was the face of a master-level sorceress from a world Rika couldn’t even fathom. 
“The root of his betrayal,” she began in an uncharacteristically tense voice, “is far greater, and far deeper, than any of us imagined.” 
—At first, Albert and I both assumed that Olba’s betrayal began after he started sheltering Lucifer. The fact Lucifer even existed, after all, indicates that the “angels” in our holy scriptures were real all along. There are many Church records about clerics attempting to communicate with the angels, but none of them give positive proof that angels exist, or that anyone has ever traveled to the heavens. 
We had thought the Great Demon General calling himself a “fallen angel” was simply a poetic turn of phrase. But he looks notably human, and he bore the same supernatural wings as the scriptures described. I would not describe myself as particularly devout, but the sight of him was enough to startle even me. To Olba, one of the six archbishops who led the entire Church, it must have come as an incomparable shock. 
I’m not sure you are aware of this, Rika, but Sadao Maou’s roommate, Hanzou Urushihara, is the original fallen angel described in our scripture, bearer of the original sin, the man who attempted to become as a god, the child of the dawn, and, well, a lot of other things. The most famous of all the angels. 
I know, judging by what Emi told me about his antics on Earth, this might be difficult to believe. He doesn’t help with chores, he doesn’t work, he throws garbage all over the place, and he uses the Devil King’s money to buy stuff. 
Mm, yesss, well, aaanyway, you’ll have to accept that Hanzou Urushihara is a pretty famous figure in Ente Isla’s holy texts or else we aren’t gonna get aaanywhere with this, so just ignorrre his current bad habits for me, all riiight? He went from angel to deeemon, so I doubt he’s ever had to lift anything heavier than a spoon all his liiife. Ooh, this puff is good. 
Um, so I was talking about how I think Lucifer’s presence shocked Olba a lot. After Lucifer was defeated in Ente Isla, we continued our journey, Olba acting no different from before. We went with Albert to defeat Adramelech on the Northern Island and Malacoda on the Southern Island. Then we drove Alciel off the Eastern Island, and from there, that led to the final battle in Devil’s Castle. 
During that fight on the Central Continent, Olba pretended to chase after the fleeing Satan and Alciel, pushed Emilia into a closing Gate, and went his separate way from us. After the Gate swallowed Emilia up, Albert and I talked things over with him. 
The decision we made still pains to me to this day. Albert insisted that we should pursue Emilia at once, but Olba and I thought it best to wipe up the remaining Devil King’s Army forces and make sure we were prepared before we tracked her down. Emilia was powerful enough to completely overwhelm both the Devil King and Alciel at the same time. We didn’t expect the Gate to lead to another world like this one, and after placing all our trust on that power, the sight of us pursuing her in a panic would crush the morale of all the knights who joined us in that Devil’s Castle duel. 
So Albert eventually agreed with Olba and me, and we switched tactics to joining the Federated Order of the Five Continents and sweeping up the powerful demons who remained in the land. 
…Indeed, at the time, both of us trusted Olba with all our hearts. At times of peace, Olba would have been a political enemy of mine, both as a high-level Church cleric and as a secular bureaucrat. But during our journey, whether fighting or not, Olba’s strength, knowledge, and kindness saved us more times than I could ever count. That is why the shock we felt when we realized he tricked us is so impossible to put into words. 
Once the main resistance was taken care of, Albert and I made our way from the Federated Order base to the nearest Stairs to Heaven, hoping to track the path that the Devil King and Alciel’s Gate had traced. We did our best to find Emilia, but I am afraid that it took a great deal of time. We had no idea they had all been taken to another world, after all. That, and tracing her path was mainly Olba’s work—for all we know, he could’ve been feeding us false information the whole time. 
As you know, Emilia, Olba lured us to Sankt Ignoreido, claiming he had found you, only to hold us captive there. He then released Lucifer, whom he had secretly been nursing back to health, and traveled to Japan to assassinate you. 
I think the Devil King has already told you why Olba brought Lucifer in for that mission. Olba, along with the Church, the Federated Order, and many other kingdoms, were afraid their people would turn toward Emilia as their next unifying force. They were already seeing it happen in the world, and there is no denying the fact that Crestia Bell was sent to Earth in part for that reason. 
But regardless of Ente Islan politics, I think there is ample room for doubt in this story. It is worth remembering, as the Church continues to insist, that Emilia’s rank was “Church knight” when she departed on her journey. As an archbishop, Olba could have put her under his guardianship, or canonized her, or done any number of things to ensure her powers were kept under the auspices of the Church. She may not act it all the time, but Emilia often finds it easy to go with the flow, instead of being assertive for herself. If she was convinced it would help the people, she might have taken up the offer willingly, for all I know. 
But either way, I felt Olba lacked the motivation he would’ve needed to fear the rise of Emilia’s political currency that much. In fact, Olba didn’t try to lure Emilia in with money or the like—he used her father’s fields as a hostage. So when I asked him about my doubts, he began to say all sorts of interesting things. 
You would be surprised. In our custody, he aged astoundingly quickly, in the course of a single week. His hair turned bright white in the blink of an eye; he once wore a tonsure, as you know. His holy magic has been fully sealed off, and he is under round-the-clock surveillance by a team of forty-five elite soldiers, including some magicians. It goes without saying that we aren’t giving him access to razors or other sharp implements, and as a result, his hair is starting to get rather long. He always did take such fine care of himself. Still a bishop, I suppose, at the core. 
Mmmm! 
Now, of courrrse, I’m not willing to accept everything he told me as the unvarnished truuuth. Little of it is verifiable, or at least easily so. So that’s why I dropped by like this. To, you know, receive a little adviiice from you and the Devil King, since you have so much more experience with angels and the heaaavens… 
“Your drawl’s coming back, Eme.” 
“Oooh, ummm, I was trying not to sound caaasual since this was a serious conversation, but it’s hard to keep up for looong…so…” 
“That’s one heck of a transformation,” Rika remarked as Emeralda took a breath and sat back, relaxing against the table. 
“So you’re saying this betrayal runs deep, based on what Olba told you?” 
“Ah, yesss,” Emeralda continued, face still turned downward. “I guess since looong before the Devil King’s Arrrmy invaded, Olba was conviiinced that heaven and the angels existed. Not because he was a Church clerrric, but I guess because he actually saaaw it for himself.” 
“For himself?” 
“I meeean, he saw that heaven isn’t where souuuls go, or where you end up when you diiie, or some metaphyyysical thing like thaaat, but a place that really exiiists, that you can physically gooo to, and, and stuuuff…” 
“…Eme?” 
“Uh-huhhh?” 
“You can have my cream puffs, too, all right? So just keep—” 
“But being a cleric also meant he was—munch, chew—blocked by the restraints of our scripture and his Church duties, so he didn’t have any real method—gulp, slurp—of researching heaven or proving it really existed—gobble.” 
It was a breathtaking revival. Picking up Emi’s cream puffs one by one and aligning them in both her grubby mitts, she ate them all, switching from hand to hand. Then her eyes slowly stiffened once more, as she returned to “serious” mode. 
“Emeralda, there’s cream and sugar all over your cheeks.” 
Rika, floored by Emeralda’s force of will a moment ago, was now using a wet tissue to wipe the grand sorceress’s face. The dignity and majesty of the high-level magician was now just as much a thing of the past as the sugary desserts churning in her stomach. 
—So I told you about how Olba was convinced that heaven existed. The reason he was so sure? The Holy Silver housed at the core of the sword Emilia wielded. Thank you, Rika. Let me have some tea first… Whew. 
Now, as you know, Olba’s Church duties included supervising our diplomatic and missionary efforts. He had gone on many missionary trips himself, from a young age, and thus he knew the god he believed in wasn’t necessarily the one true, matchless one out there. If he was, then why were so many in the world oblivious to his existence? How could these people live, and build entire nations, without knowing this god was watching over them? Our scripture talks about the glories of spreading the word of our god to those who believe in other religions, but in that case, why did the Church have to wield so many bloody battles against sovereign nations for the sake of this? These so-called missionary wars? 
During his travels, Olba encountered a great deal of fully matured nations. He knew there were many not so willing to accept the god he taught at face value. The concept of forcing them to recognize this god by swordpoint was, as he said, a constant source of concern for him. 
Then he stumbled upon a major contradiction. The old adage of “loving thy neighbor,” a phrase even a child knows, directly contradicts much of the Church’s actual history. What kind of god would brand those who refuse their teachings as evil, giving them permission to kill those who refuse to bend to its will? He realized that many bishops of the past arbitrarily interpreted the absoluteness of our god as approval of massacring the neighbors we should have loved, in the name of that god himself. Those bishops saw this as a divine purge; they said the souls of the slain would be purified by those who believed, that our god would save them from pain and hatred. 
But what Olba saw was different. He saw people who never forgot about the massacres and plunder the Church selfishly carried out for centuries. Instead, they kept the story alive across generations. He encountered those who said the god Olba worshipped was evil incarnate. Even in this modern world, where we try to debate our differences instead of fight to the death over them, Olba found his divine teachings fall upon deaf ears. 
It made him realize another contradiction in his life. You could say that he began to doubt his god existed at all. 
Looking back at the scripture, Olba realized his god had made all kinds of mistakes. The only thing that went fully according to plan was the creation of the world, and the life that thrived on it. After that, he let evil make its way into paradise, watched mankind succumb to temptation and betray him over and over again, and sat on the side as the very creatures he created warred endlessly with one another. They even dared to create gods besides himself! All of this, as the Church swore that their god was the only “true” one. 
This absolute font of everything good, making mistake after mistake, and we still worship him anyway. How could such a bundle of contradictions be a god at all? Only a human could be capable of such a thing, Olba thought. 
And, as he put it to me, it was this realization that drove him to advance through the ranks of the Church. If every move the Church made was by the hand of fallible men and women, all he had to do was remember that, and act based upon it. He hadn’t fully abandoned his conscience as a Church cleric at this point, but I would be hesitant to call him particularly “devout” after that, either. 
I think the best way to describe Olba is as a master strategist. He is completely versed in the politics, the economics, and the laws of the Church, a vast nation whose fortunes lie not in the land it possesses but in the hearts and minds of those it takes hold of. He is a genius at reading, and controlling, human nature. 
And when he finally was promoted to archbishop, that granted him access to something he never had before: Holy Silver. The holy vestments of Sankt Ignoreido, supposedly granted to them by an angel from heaven. He knew the tale of the Hero appearing when evil threatens the world, bearing a sword made from this blessed metal, and now he saw it for himself. It made Olba realize that both “heaven” and “angels” were real, palpable things. All of it—the Church, its scripture, the holy metal itself—existed on the same plane as mankind. 
This apparently made Olba have a thought: 
“Perhaps I can become a god, then.” 
Emi shrank back, face pallid, as if she was hearing Olba’s raspy voice in her own apartment. 
“He really thought that…?” 
“It seems so, yes. The thing the kingdoms and other bishops feared the most was, quite literally, you—or, to be exact, the thought of you horning in on their own interests. Olba, on the other hand, had another, deeper concern.” 
“…That I’d become a god? With my Holy Silver, and my Yesod fragment?” 
“I believe so.” 
“How could he be so…ridiculous…?” Emi crossed her arms, shaking a little, as Rika gave her a reassuring pat on the back. 
“After he touched the Holy Silver for the first time, Olba scoured the world for signs of other supernatural phenomena, believing the Silver not to be a solitary relic. It had been examined and investigated by the seminary and other bishops for years, and the Church had long concluded that it was not of this world. But now, Olba believed, the whole concept of ‘not of this world’ was invalid—the Holy Silver was right here, at his fingertips. He had full access to this metal, along with the time and money required to give it a thorough investigation. So he did—constantly, ever since he became a bishop. But he never found anything else of a similarly divine nature on Ente Isla. It must have unnerved him, having no leads and fighting against time and old age. And then…that very thing happened.” 
Emi looked up. “The Devil King’s Army…?” 
“Yes—and with that, talk of the prophesied Hero bearing the Holy Silver. It filled Olba with joy, since as he saw it, a Hero who could wield this material would be invaluable for his own research. He didn’t see the Hero as a mere prophecy but as a real, palpable thing, planned out by somebody long ago. He truly believed that, and then it happened. Emilia Justina, the fabled Hero of divine blood.” 
“…” 
“You okay, Emi?” 
“Y-yeah… I’m sorry, Rika. Stay with me a moment.” 
“I’m right here,” she said, sidling up a little. 
“It was apparently rather simple,” Emeralda continued, “to find you. That’s because the Church had a certain ritual it carried out upon the Holy Silver whenever darkness threatened the world. A simple one—the correct person, in this case a high-level Church cleric, infusing the right amount of holy energy into the Silver. As the story went, the metal would then provide a guiding light to the Hero’s location.” 
It sounded familiar to Emi. She had seen just such a light many times before, a light she even thought she was emitting herself. It wasn’t until later that she would realize the light was simply Yesod fragments pulling against each other—a fact that the Church remade into a nice, holy-sounding tale for its own benefit. But who spread that tale? Where did it come from? There was only one possibility. 
“Laila…” 
Her mother had set up the whole thing. This massive, cross-planetary farce over the Yesod fragments. 
“So the Church found you, Emilia, and took you to their headquarters in Sankt Ignoreido. But at the time, Olba’s ambitions were still small-scale, focused upon observing you around the Holy Silver and applying the results to his research. What decisively changed his mind was the moment you touched the Silver for the first time.” 
“The first… What do you mean?” 
“Do you remember? The Hero in the prophecy is the ‘Hero of the Holy Sword.’” 
“…Oh.” 
“But the girl they brought before the Holy Silver manifested a lot more than a sword.” 
Emi gasped. She realized that the point Emeralda was guiding her toward involved the deepest core tenets of her life. 
“The Cloth…of the Dispeller…!!” 
“Whoa, Emi, you still with me?” Rika exclaimed as Emi hugged her even tighter, trying to calm her down. “You wanna take a break? ’Cause I’m still new to all this, and this is pretty heavy for me, too. Taking it all at once would stress anybody out, so…” 
“…I’m fine. I’m fine, so… Please. I need to hear all of it.” 
“…All right,” Emeralda said, balancing her concern over Emi’s mental state and her belief that she could handle it. “Seeing the sword and Cloth delighted Olba—and unlike the other bishops, he didn’t assume the Cloth was simply part of the package, so to speak, with the sword. He was shocked to see it, but he brought an analytical approach to the question. The things he wanted more than anything else in the world were now right in front of him. To Olba, the sword and the Cloth of the Dispeller were both precious samples of Holy Silver. He apparently thought the guiding light everyone saw was the Holy Silver and the Cloth attracting each other. 
“Thus Olba volunteered to serve as Emi’s guardian, taking advantage of his extensive missionary experience to assume a leadership role when it came time to fight the Devil King. 
“Seeing the two holy vestments you manifested confirmed to Olba that he was right—that heaven and angels really exist. And on the day Saint Aile was liberated, Olba finally encountered him for the first time—incontrovertible proof that angels were living, breathing things. In other words, the Great Demon General Lucifer.” 
“And that was…what led him to…” 
“Lucifer was almost dead after fighting you, and Olba saved him—only pretending to strike the lethal blow. It was his first real step toward trying to become a physical god. The theories he formulated over the years were proven all too true by the Devil King’s Army invasion. But there was one disappointment for him—Lucifer knew nothing about Holy Silver, or Emilia’s weapon.” 
That had bothered Emi before. Essentially, Lucifer—Urushihara—acted like he was completely oblivious about her sword. He was an archangel on the class of Sariel and Gabriel—maybe higher than that, given how early he showed up—and all the Yesod-fragment stuff was news to him. Why was that? 
“Still, as far as Olba was concerned, Lucifer was a vital tool in bringing him down the road to divinity. So he kept him safe, even as he traveled with you—and just as all of you stormed Devil’s Castle, Olba saw the guiding light again.” 
“Yes… My sword, reacting to the Alas Ramus core that the Devil King was holding.” 
“This, apparently, was a cause of concern for Olba. There was a new sample nearby, that much he knew, but if you defeated the Devil King and seized it for yourself, that would no doubt grant you yet more power. The kind of power that could make a god, or an angel, want to call you home.” 
A Hero’s position was assured as long as she was actively fighting for the human world. But when the evil is smited and the Hero’s strength is no longer required, all that power could easily provide the spark for new, untold chaos. Would that be all right with whoever granted the sword and Cloth of the Dispeller to the world? Would he or she want to have more people coming close to the secrets they held? 
To Olba, who wanted to avoid any possibility of this precious path to the heavens closing on him, the Devil King and Alciel fleeing the planet was a stroke of fantastic good luck. Alas Ramus’s core was left behind in Devil’s Castle, but if Olba could get both Emilia and this Devil King who somehow reacted to her out of this world, that would earn him more precious research time. So he pretended to pursue the Devil King, only to shut off the Gate early once Emilia was through it—and he successfully hid his intentions from Emeralda, Albert, and the entire Federated Order on the scene. What he wasn’t expecting was that they’d all be taken to another planet. Tracking them down took a vast amount of time. 
“After that, Emilia, you know the rest of the story. Olba and Lucifer sowed the seeds of chaos in Japan, attempting to defeat the Hero and Devil King for their own nefarious aims. But out of all the errors of judgment Olba made, the biggest one of all was failing to imagine that you and the Devil King would not only make contact, but even get along with each other.” 
“…Kind of rough to have it put that way.” Emi smiled, the blood still drained from her face. 
“Thus, at the very last moment, Olba failed to kill you. It cost him Lucifer and the ability to return to Ente Isla, and it closed off his path to divinity…or it should have, anyway.” 
“…Was it Sariel? Gabriel? Or Raguel?” 
Emeralda grinned at the barrage of questions. “It was Sariel, at first, he said. Sariel helped him escape custody in Japan, and after that, he aided the heavens in the search for Yesod fragments, under their close supervision. He also told me that speaking with angels besides Lucifer made him change his ways of thinking, a little.” 
Sariel and the other angels wielded untold amounts of force, far greater than anything Satan, the Devil King, or Emilia the Hero had. They had physical strength, a divine mystique, holy-power reserves that no mere human could ever approach, and overwhelming intelligence. The sight of them filled Olba with awe—and then, convinced he had won their favor, he began to serve as their willing puppet. He hadn’t given up on his divine aspirations, but after their battle in Sasazuka, Olba’s goalposts had shifted a bit. Now, even if he wasn’t an absolute god, he still hoped to become an angel with strength like Sariel’s or Gabriel’s—strength that would let him become a physical symbol of worship on Ente Isla. 
But now—his overambitious plans unraveled, his divine hopes crushed by the force of Maou, Emi, and Suzuno—Olba was a shell of a man, drained of both the light of ambition and the force of life itself. 
“Listening to all that,” Rika interjected, “I mean, I’d say he had it coming. There was no saving him for what he did. But what’s gonna happen to that guy now? Do they have the death penalty over there or anything?” 
Emeralda dejectedly shook her head. “I cannot say yet. We would need to figure out which country’s laws have jurisdiction over him, or if any law, indeed, could fully address his actions. Even after all this, he remains an archbishop and ‘close friend’ of the Hero. Condemning him to death would have far too great an impact.” 
The wrinkles between her eyebrows deepened, betraying how much the thought anguished her. 
“I doubt we will come to any conclusion in very short order. We were rather surprised, honestly, to see Olba confess so much to us so quickly. I imagine the Devil King appearing in Efzahan, confounding his plans, and defeating the angels came as quite a shock to him. But we still don’t know why he was working with the angels to have Emilia and Alciel fight each other over there, and… Still all right, Emilia?” 
Emeralda sighed as she peered at her friend. 
“I’m not so sure, anymore,” Emi replied, “but at least I know a few more things now. And, you know, Chiho said something to me earlier…” 
“Chiho Sasaki?” 
“Yeah. My father said the same thing, too,” she said, instinctively grasping Rika’s hand. “From the start…probably since the moment I was born, I had the Better Half within me. I think the Holy Silver the Church retained bore the Cloth of the Dispeller, not the holy sword. Laila said she had given my father and me the ‘key’ to her own objectives. He and Acieth Alla were together the whole time—him, and the personification of the other holy sword… Sorry if I scare you, Rika.” 
Emi exchanged looks with her friend. Then she removed her hand and stood up, taking a step backward. 
“And come to think of it, this Cloth has changed, too. Ever since I became one with this child.” 
She focused for a moment. “Whoa!” Rika exclaimed at what happened next. Amid a dazzling, bright light, a young girl appeared in Emi’s arms—a girl with oddly colored hair, sleeping peacefully. 
“Is that…Alas Ramus?” 
She had never seen her quite this close, and she had certainly never seen a baby appear out of thin air before. But that wasn’t all. 
“And, uh… Emi? What’s that outfit?!” 
The other sudden change threw Rika for a complete loop, making her literally fall backward onto the floor. 
The hair was a silken bluish gray, the crimson eyes piercing their way through any evil they spied. Over her casual dress was a full suit of armor, emitting a strange sort of sheen that lay somewhere between silver and a colorful prism. 
“That’s it…?” she murmured, surveying her friend. “The Hero?” 
“Emilia, that shield…” 
Emeralda was familiar with the transformation, but the Cloth of the Dispeller’s new equipment came as a surprise. 
“I didn’t have this before,” Emilia said, sizing up the round shield on her left arm a bit as Alas Ramus slowly stirred. “This is the Cloth, evolved. It happened after I fused with this child.” She averted her eyes a bit. “My holy sword changes its form depending on how much holy energy I have. The Cloth transforms when it makes contact with a Yesod fragment, and making contact with Alas Ramus made it manifest a new shield. And her, and Acieth Alla… It makes them mature, as well.” 
She relaxed for a moment. Before Rika’s eyes, the Cloth of the Dispeller was itself dispelled, forming bubbles of light that streamed back into Emi’s body. Her hair and eyes were back to normal, and she was once more Emi Yusa, holding her child and taking her seat again, before a dumbfounded Rika. 
“So the Yesod fragments each work their own way, but they have the ability to mature. Evolve. If that’s what Laila is going for…then what happens once all the fragments are in one place?” 
Emeralda and Rika had no answer for her. 
“I don’t know what Laila wants,” she admitted. “I don’t know what Gabriel and the heavens want, gathering all these children. But…no matter how it turns out, I don’t want it to end unhappily for them.” She turned to Emeralda. “I’m glad you came here today, Eme. Now I’ve got all the motivation I need for my next goal.” 
“What is that?” 
“I’m still going to search for Laila, but not so I can find out what she wants. It’s so I can be sure Alas Ramus has a happy future. My holy sword, my Cloth of the Dispeller—they’re both precious partners of mine. I won’t let Laila have her way with them.” 
“Whew!” Rika said, finally composed enough to pick herself up off the floor. “Seeing all this stuff in real life… Crazy!” 
“You aren’t…turned off by it?” Emi asked, giving her a concerned look. 
Rika briskly shook her head, although the shock was still written clear upon her face. “Well, no, I just mean, wow, what a surprise! Like, man, what a friend I’ve got!” Then she sidled up to Emi on the couch, watching Alas Ramus as she began to squirm in her rapidly fading sleep. “Boy, seeing her up close, though… I can’t really think of any other way to say this, but, like, seriously, she’s cute as an angel. I thought Acieth was pretty attractive herself, but a cute li’l kid like this is something else entirely!” 
Her gaze focused on the resting child, then raised itself a little to settle upon Emi’s face, where it lingered for a while. Emeralda observed this, declining to comment. 
“And y’know, you two kinda resemble each other, actually. Like, in the eyes, and the shape of the mouth.” 
“Y-you think so? We really shouldn’t, but…” Emi bashfully looked at the child. “You saying that makes me a little happy right now, I think.” 
“Yeah, but kind of… Maybe the forehead and eyebrows look a bit like Maou, though… Oh, um, too soon, maybe?” 
Rika didn’t mean it as a joke. But the response from the flushed Emi was sheer intimidation, as if she was silently spewing venom at her. 
“Not ‘too soon,’ but… I appreciate what he did for me, but I haven’t forgiven him at the root or anything, so… I don’t know. It’s complicated.” 
As far as Alas Ramus was concerned, Maou was her one and only father. Emi wasn’t childish enough to pretend that wasn’t the case. But that didn’t change the fact that, even with his integral role in finding Nord, Maou had done more to smash up and ruin Emi’s life than anyone else. And even though it seemed Laila was starting to have a bigger role in that than previously anticipated, as long as Maou declared himself king of all demons, she still believed that the atrocities of Maou’s past were his, and his alone, to shoulder. 
But she had already realized, by this point, that she could no longer kill Maou by herself. In fact, judging by the dreams she had of sharing a warm meal around his apartment’s table again, Emi’s subconscious had accepted a fairly large role for Maou in her life. It made her wonder whether it was worth finding reasons to keep hating him, or if taking the role of judge, jury, and executioner against him was even necessary. 
“It’s complicated,” she repeated, as if reminding herself of the fact. “Good morning, Alas Ramus. Are you awake?” 
“Mnngh… ’orrrrning…” The child rubbed her eyes, let out a cheek-stretching yawn, and turned her eyes around the room. 
“!” When they settled upon Rika, her face snapped upward. In another moment, she was nimbly out of Emi’s arms and hiding behind her back. 
“Agh! Wh-what’s up?” 
“Oh, um, did I scare her?” 
“Ah, right, she’s never seen you before, has she?” 
“Oooo,” Alas Ramus murmured as she stole a furtive peek at Rika from behind, looking at her like she was a storybook wicked stepmother. Rika, not exactly used to small children, gave an awkward smile, wave, and “Hi?” It spooked Alas Ramus even more, into hiding her face fully behind Emi. 
“Come on, Alas Ramus, you have to say hello. Where’s your hello?” 
“…Oo.” She stuck her face out again, but timidly, the shock of an unfamiliar face right after she woke up still too much to deal with. 
“Hmm, was Alas Ramus always as shyyy as this with new peeeople?” 
“Hnn!!” 
The voice from behind made the child literally fly into the air. 
“A-Alas Ramus?!” 
“Oh, uh, ah…?” 
Like a jackrabbit, Alas Ramus leaped away from Emi’s back. Now she was hiding behind Rika instead. 
“Umm…” 
The sensation of something small tugging at her shirt from behind made Rika feel incredibly ill at ease. She turned around. 
“…Sis…?” 
“Hmm? Hmmmm?” 
Rika turned downward, sensing that Alas Ramus was saying something. Then she looked up and grinned awkwardly at Emeralda. 
“She said, ‘What’s Eme-sis doing here?’” 
“Ooooh…” 
Emi looked at Emeralda, too, as she began to pout a little. 
“She never was that big a fan of yours, huh, Eme?” 
“Oh, come onnn! To the point where she’s hiiiding behind someone she’s never met beforrre?” 
“Can you blame her? You scared her with all that screaming and carrying on last time.” 
“And can you blame meee?” a dissatisfied Emeralda shot back. “A child this cute, I can’t helllp but get a little louuuder.” 
Rika, meanwhile, waited for the small hands around her to ease up a little before daring to turn around. 
“Um, hello?” 
“………’lo,” Alas Ramus whispered, realizing for the first time that she was latched on to a stranger. Mommy offered no further guidance. 
“It’s good to meet you, Alas Ramus.” 
“……yeh.” 
“Uh, my name’s Rika Suzuki. I’m a friend of Emi… I mean, your mom.” 
“Suu-ki…?” 
“Now, Alas Ramus, be polite to your big sis Rika, all right?” 
“O, okeh, uh, hi, Riuh-sis.” 
The voice wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, perhaps out of nervousness, but she still bowed with all her might at Rika. 
“And hello to you, too! Man, Emi, what is this incredibly cute creature you’ve got here?” Rika could no longer prevent herself from breaking into a wide grin. “No wonder everyone’s lining up to take care of you. And look at those tiny little hands!” 
“Aph,” the child replied as Rika grabbed one of them, looking toward Emi for help but still accepting the attention. 
“And you know, Emi,” Rika continued as she softly clasped both of Alas Ramus’s hands, “I know you’ve had it rough for a while, and it’s not gonna get easier very soon. So if you want someone to talk to, call me anytime, all right? Whether anything’s happening or not. I’ll keep looking for new lunch spots to take us to.” 
“…Rika.” 
“Rika…?” 
“And when we meet up, be sure to bring Alas Ramus along, okay? Hey, Alas Ramus, what kind of food do you like to eat?” 
“Corn soup ’n’ curry!” 
“Ooh, the classic kiddie one-two punch. Nice.” 
“And, an’ Chi-sis’s fried chicken!” 
“Chi? Oh, you mean Chiho? She knows how to cook for kids like you, huh? I’m impressed! So you like fried chicken, curry, and corn soup, huh? I can think of a couple places along those lines, but if you want one that can pull off all three of those, I’ll have to do some investigating. Can you even eat that much, though? You’re still pretty small.” 
Rika didn’t say anything else to Emi. She didn’t need to. Emi already had everything she needed. Whether she was Emi Yusa or Emilia Justina, Rika just wanted to go out to eat with her. She wanted to talk about stuff. What more could she want? 
“You have very good friends indeed, Emilia,” Emeralda softly noted, making Emi’s eyes moisten a little. 
“Oh! And going out is fun and all, but what about a job, Emi? What’re you gonna do about that? ’Cause you’re gonna stay in Japan for a while, right? I mean, I doubt you’re gonna be scraping at your bank account too quickly with the way you live, but it can’t be cheap to live in an apartment like this, huh?” 
Rika was always like that, diverting the conversation back to reality at just the right moment. Emi loved that. 
“Oh, you’d be surprised. The rent here’s fifty thousand yen.” 
“Huh?” Rika replied, wrinkling her face at the figure. “That’s kind of crazy, isn’t it? ’Cause between the size of this place and how close it is to the station, I would’ve figured at least twice that, easy.” 
Suzuno seemed equally surprised by the rent, when Emi revealed the figure to her. But to Rika, a veteran of urban living, the price took on a deeper, more concrete meaning. It was completely illogical to her. 
“Yeah, well…if you want the truth, this apartment kinda had some…bad stuff go down inside it before I moved in, know what I mean?” 
“Ewww! Really?” 
Emi waved her hands in self-defense. “Oh! But, I mean, Rika, if it weren’t for this joint, I probably wouldn’t have gotten that job at Dokodemo, and I don’t even know if I could’ve stayed afloat in Japan.” 
“Oh?” 
“I’ve got a lot of memories associated with this place. I’ll be living with my father again sometime, but moving out of here won’t come cheap, so I think it’ll be a while before I do that.” 
Rika turned to Emeralda, wondering if she knew more about this. The sorceress countered with a slight shrug. 
“So, anyway, the rent’s not really the problem. My finances are kinda rough right now, but I think I’ve got a line on a new job. I called this place that sounds like they need some fresh bodies ASAP, so we already have an interview set up. All I need to do is update the photo on my résumé.” 
“Ooh! The Hero at work, huh? Talk about takin’ care of business.” Rika smiled at this sunnier news. Then she gave her an incredulous look. Being her ex-coworker meant she had at least a vague idea of the salary Emi was pulling down. “But that rough already, huh? Something happen?” 
“Well, kind of…” 
Emi gave a quick summary of Maou and his invoice. It made both Rika and Emeralda wince. 
“Oh, maaaaan…” 
“Wowww.” 
“Devil King or not, is now really the time for that kinda thing?” 
“Indeeed, this is kind of a disappoiiintment. I didn’t think the Devil King I saw would act that waaay…” 
Despite the criticism, the wry grin on Emi’s face bore no evidence of anger or despair. “You think so, too?” she said. “Well, so did I. It’s totally not like him.” 
“Oh?” both Emeralda and Rika said. 
“I’m guessing he didn’t think I’d accept his crazy terms at all, you know?” Emi stood up and took a magazine out from the shelf next to her TV. “But even I have a little bit of pride left. If I owe someone, I feel like I’ve got an obligation to pay them back myself. Plus…” She turned to a page that had a sticky note applied to it and showed it to them both. “If I completely fall for his conniving, I’ll wind up owing him again.” 
Rika, reading the advertisement on the bookmarked page, stared in disbelief. “Ah, Emi, this is…” 
Emi, expecting this, firmly nodded at the unspoken question, brimming with confidence. 
“I’ve decided to apply here on my terms.”