Hataraku Maou-sama! - Volume 4 - Chapter 3

THE DEVIL MARVELS AT THE WIDE WORLD (AND CHOSHI) 
The morning after the night of the postponed fireworks party, the demons were forced awake by a presunrise phone call from Amane. 
Apparently she was aghast that they came all the way to Inuboh and didn’t bother watching the sun rise from the horizon. From Maou’s perspective, he honestly couldn’t have cared less. 
It was beautiful, no doubt, but from his personal chamber in the Devil’s Castle on Isla Centurum, he was greeted daily by an unobstructed panorama of that world’s sun making its debut. 
Urushihara, in a zombielike state, stood around long enough for the sun to clear the horizon. Then he burrowed back into his futon. 
The previous evening’s events made for a difficult night’s sleep. Maou and Ashiya, both still drowsy themselves, couldn’t blame Urushihara for his refusal to remain conscious. 
But the fog now seemed like a faraway vision. The weather in Choshi, and along Kimigahama, was gorgeous. Even this early, the temperature was high enough to make Maou break into a sweat just standing outside. 
The night before, Chiho texted them that the girls were at the inn and Alas Ramus finally chilled out. The only real concern left was how many customers they’d have to deal with today. 
This was the first day Maou and Ashiya were running the place. Now that they were awake, they set out to prepare for the grand opening. 
It was still painfully early as the sun rose upward. But if they fell asleep again, they might wake up to find an angry delivery truck driver waiting for them. 
Amane arrived at six AM, giving Maou an excuse to beat Urushihara awake as the four of them ran one final check before the big moment. 
Would anyone really show up? Just as Chiho and Ashiya noted concernedly yesterday, the beach was barren of people. 
It was August 1, and Maou was ready to rumble. 
By the time the clock struck eight, however, the beach—wholly uninhabited until the previous day—began to fill with vacationers, wiping away the bit of anxiety still bouncing around Maou’s mind. 
They were coming in droves. So much so, in fact, that despite having four people on the Ohguro-ya staff, Amane, Maou, Ashiya, and Urushihara had no time at all to rest. 
Right from the start, a small crowd of people began to form around the beach house, attracted by Suzuno’s exquisitely detailed Sarou-Sotengai sand castle. 
Then, the crowd grew. 
By ten AM, they were beginning to form a line, lured in by the smell of Ashiya’s yakisoba. 
Ashiya had to focus on cooking the noodles, but his mind was almost fully occupied already with handling to-go orders from customers. 
Maou and Amane, meanwhile, were busy handling customers sitting by the tables for a rest and some grub. 
The chairs Urushihara and Chiho sanded and polished could hold twelve people. But once they began offering service to beachgoers seated on the nearby ground or rocks, things grew profoundly busy in the blink of an eye. 
And, of course, the beach house offered more than just fried noodles on the menu. 
They had cut down on the offerings so they could more quickly prepare for the onslaught ahead. The focus instead was on dishes they could make in the same cooking area without a lot of fuss. 
To be exact, they got rid of the ramen—no time to bring noodles to a boil, nor to delicately place all the extra bits and bobs in the bowl—and offered both regular and seafood yakisoba instead. 
Having every square inch of griddle space occupied by yakisoba meant that okonomiyaki pancakes were out of the question, too. Instead, Ashiya took the space meant for ramen prep and used it for curry, pairing it with some presautéed chicken and pork to customer taste. 
Writing out the menu items across the dining space, one per sheet of construction paper (including drinks), successfully diverted customers’ attention away from how few offerings were really on hand. 
As a result: 
“Thank you very much! Two pork, one chicken, one seafood to-go on number four, please!” 
“Two sauce, one seafood, on number three, two on the ground with two sauce to go!” 
“Five chicken on rock two! We good right now?! …I apologize, sir, we’ve got some chicken cooking right now. I’ll bring it out to you when it’s ready, all right?” 
Maou was forced to constantly shout at the general direction of the kitchen. 
“Sauce to go” and “seafood to go” mostly referred to customers who were eating indoors, but wanted to take some orders back to their beach towels for the family. 
The numbers referred to chairs…or the rocks lining the outside of the store, depending. 
“Maou, I’ve got four regular at number one! Can you get that out for me? I gotta go cook up some more pork!” 
“I’ll be right there! Urushihara!” 
“No! I can’t! I can’t!” 
Maou reached out to Urushihara for help. But the fallen angel was about to suffer an engine blowout himself. 
The system he’d devised for Urushihara, one that seemed so foolproof and revolutionary yesterday, was about to fall apart, thanks to one unanticipated reason. 
Maou was picturing customers operating the manual shaved-ice machine themselves while Urushihara simply collected money—the kind of easygoing business management that only a mom-and-pop joint like this could get away with. 
The machine was pretty difficult to work, but since Ohguro-ya didn’t have any of the equipment needed to sell ice cream, shaved ice was the only frozen treat they could easily offer. 
They put an ample supply of ice out on the counter, with Urushihara instructed to go fetch some more if they ran out. Thanks to the entertainment value of customers grinding up the ice themselves, nobody was going to complain if the results came out less than uniform. 
Simply making the shaved ice would bore some customers, though. So Maou decided to sacrifice profits a bit and offer full self-service on the syrup toppings, too—your choice of strawberry, lemon, melon, or Blue Hawaii. 
Thus, the customers would put in all the effort, finely crushing the ice to their own liking, then spatter their choice of syrups on as a sort of greedy reward. 
All Urushihara had to do—on paper, at least—was give them change and put ice in the machine. The tourists would handle everything else. 
They ordered a ton of shaved-ice cups and spoons, so they weren’t going to run out of those, either. Then they could just toss a bunch of drink cans in the ice-filled kiddie pool Maou had Emi purchase for him, have Urushihara sit down in front, and just make him be a money-taking robot for the day. Easy. But… 
“I got about a fifteen-minute wait! And I’m out of strawberry syrup, too, so don’t ask me for that! Please!” 
Urushihara’s eyes darted to and fro between the ice machine and the line at the drinks counter. 
“Whaaa?” 
“Aw, maaan.” 
Murmured complaints across the length of the line. 
The drinks were moving at a much more leisurely clip compared to Ashiya’s griddle, but the shaved-ice gimmick was too successful for its own good, forcing customers to stand in the hot sun for a chance to turn a crank for a few seconds. 
Maou could see several of them squirm uncomfortably, stamping their feet to keep from burning their heels on the sunbaked sand. 
They had only one shaved-ice machine, after all. 
To keep things fair for people who messed up the shaving job, Maou had set the price on the low side. That was another reason why the line grew to levels beyond Urushihara’s control. Running out of syrup was also something he never considered. 
“Maou! I’m out of salt! It’ll be ten minutes until the next batch!” 
Now Ashiya was screaming out from the kitchen. 
Maou could feel the complaints seeping out from the line behind him. He ran up to the griddle and whispered in Ashiya’s ear. 
“Can you handle the seafood orders I just took?" 
“I have three left. We’re one short on the table order I have now.” 
This plunged him into outright depression. 
He had completely misjudged the quantities for his delivery orders. Based on how slapdash Ohguro-ya’s business operations were up to now, he had ordered the equivalent of 150 percent of the previous summer’s sales, just in case. Now they were running short on seemingly everything. 
They had plenty of food, but there there was no time to restock everything else they needed. 
“Maou! Two seafoods and sodas for rock one! Ugh, I’m starting to forget who placed an order and who didn’t!” 
Amane’s eyes ran up and down the order slips in her hand. 
Most beach houses like this, unless they had a pretty hefty number of tables, usually had customers pay for orders at the cash register before picking them up. But Maou, figuring the crowds would make this impossible, instead started generating order slips for each table. 
This ensured that Amane, still not used to this, wouldn’t make any accounting errors or misplace someone’s change while typing in orders. 
But adopting this system without practicing it first led to orders frequently being delivered to customers twice. 
“Ah, jeez, we’re running short on order slips…” 
That, and they ran through an entire pad of slips in seemingly record time. That was out of left field. 
“Do we have any more, Amane…?” 
“Guh! I don’t know! If I have any, they’d be in the closet in the room you’re staying in, but I haven’t been in there in ages, so…” 
Maou resisted the urge to ask her—more scream at her, really—why she stuck them in there. 
But if he left the store space right now, Amane would have to handle transactions, odd jobs, and drink server management by herself. 
He was already noticing customers scowling and whining to their companions here and there. Unless you were a six-armed Hindu god—or the Devil King in his own world, perhaps—there was no way to solve this crisis. 
All the employees’ faces were red and caked with sweat. They had no reserve power on hand to deal with all these irregularities. 
Maou’s brain was just about to spring a flat when: 
“Go look for those order slips, Maou. I’ll fend everyone off while you do.” 
The voice flowed into the employees’ ears just before they exploded. 
“Shirou, you complete the orders for the regular yakisoba. I will prepare the seafood orders in the meantime. I just cut up the vegetables and calamari and skin the shrimp, yes?” 
“Hello, Nanchou Ice Manufacturing? Do you think we could rent two shaved-ice machines immediately? Sure, you can charge us for today. They don’t have to be brand-new or anything, so if you could get them to Ohguro-ya in Kimigahama ASAP… Oh, really? Great, how about strawberry and Blue Hawaii, then? Thanks. …Whew. Sorry I took the initiative there, but if you’re this busy, I figure you can shell out for that, huh? They said rentals start at three thousand yen per machine, and they’ll give us syrup samples, too.” 
Three beams of light shone upon them. 
“Chi… Suzuno, Emi… Why are you…?” 
Just as Ohguro-ya’s juggling act was about to end in tears, three goddesses descended from the heavens. 
“What’s table two…? Right there. Yeah. Two beers, one orange, and one bottle of soda? Okay!” 
Not even waiting for Maou’s reply, Chiho asked Amane for a table number and expertly began serving out drink orders. 
“Right. Here is enough shrimp to process your current orders. What about the cabbage? Should I be shredding it, or should it be coarser than that?” 
Suzuno, slicing up veggies and skinning shrimp at a clip reminiscent of a Western-film gunslinger, stood next to Ashiya. After a quick glance at the recipe, she began to make a heaping batch of salt-flavored yakisoba. 
Emi approached Maou, the irritation clear on her face. 
“The people in the shaved-ice line are crying bloody murder, y’know. Do we have anything free we can give ’em?” 
The customers, frustrated by the heat and the lengthy lines, were fixated on the swimsuit-wearing female crew that just walked in. 
Compared to Amane, bedecked in a sweat-stained T-shirt and spending most of her time in the back anyway, this attracted a great deal more positive attention. 
“Ah, youth…” 
Amane whispered the observation to herself, even though she couldn’t blame anyone. 
Chiho had a frilly orange bikini on, framed by a light white jacket and a sun visor that already made her look like a beachside waitress. 
Deftly handling a serving tray laden with drinks, she used the footwork she’d learned at the MgRonald in Tokyo to dance her way through the crowds, delivering orders perfectly and with a smile. 
For her post in the kitchen, Suzuno wrapped an apron around her waist and the simple black halter-top bikini she had on. The white ribbons on the straps well-matched the apron’s basic navy blue, adding a healthy, refreshing aura to her work outfit. 
And once she took a knife to a head of cabbage, slicing it to ribbons like a practiced samurai swordmaster, the formerly peeved customers in line applauded. 

Emi, meanwhile, had a South Seas resort–style bikini on, fitted with a large ribbon and a wrap around her waist. 
All three of them sported swimsuits that accentuated their natural beauty, but Maou’s attention was focused on something different entirely. 
“Uh, where’s Alas Ramus?” 
“…That’s all you got to say?” 
The question put Emi off. She discreetly motioned toward Amane. 
“We went out on the beach early in the morning, so she’s napping now. I put her to sleep in your room. I’m outta here once she wakes up, so…” 
She tapped on the back of her head twice as she spoke. 
Maou got the message. The girl was fused within her right now. 
He had nothing to worry about. 
But right now, there was no scaling this mountain without their help. 
“Thanks! We’ll probably need you for just a little bit, okay?” 
“You got it!” 
“Leave it to us.” 
“Remember, you owe me for this one!” 
The three of them eagerly replied in their own ways. 
Maou flung himself into the crowd before reappearing with four damp-looking cardboard boxes that he immediately foisted on Emi. 
“You can use all the inventory we got on these. Pass ’em around to the crowd and tell ’em it’s a freebie for lunch!” 
It was their spare supply of 5-Honest Energy. 
Giving away four cases’ worth meant a loss of nearly five thousand yen, but they had no time to quibble over the numbers. 
Right now, at this moment, if they could give the customers the service they wanted, they would make up for that loss easily. 
On the other hand, if they cheaped out, they might be facing even larger, unseen losses from tomorrow forward. 
Emi, more accepting than he expected, walked up and down the lines of dissatisfied yakisoba and shaved-ice customers. 
“Our apologies for making all of you wait! We’ve got a free lunch bonus for all of you!” 
With a well-practiced smile and what natural charm she had, she began passing out 5-Honest Energy bottles. 
It was a well-calculated move. The men in the crowd certainly didn’t mind Emi’s swimsuit, and nobody else would turn down a cold drink in this heat. 
If she could smile like that more often in normal life, one could almost describe her as cute. 
Though, to Maou, their bikinis weren’t as much of a surprise as the way they briskly strode in and saved the demons from a fate worse than death. 
“I’ll be right back!” 
Checking to make sure he had a moment’s reprieve, Maou ducked away and into the back in search of extra order pads. 
He opened the door and immediately basked in the joyous air-conditioned atmosphere for a moment. He already knew the closet inside their quarters contained several boxes, clearly abandoned for a lengthy period of time prior. 
He knew because he had dragged out one of the empty ones last night. 
In one corner of the room, a large box stood safely away from both the sun and the AC vent. Maou peered in and spoke. 
“…You still alive, Camio?” 
“L-Lord Satan…peep.” 
Inside, the blackbird drowsily hopped around. 
“Bah-hah-hah! …Oh, uh, sorry. Glad you’re still with me. I’ll check up on you later.” 
It must have worked differently for him from when Ashiya and Maou were drained of their demonic force. Camio skipped the human transformation entirely and went straight into songbird mode. 
His voice was the sedate baritone of the avian warrior from yesterday, but the way he now added a high-pitched “peep” in and around his statements struck Maou as nothing short of hilarious. 
“I apeep…apologize…for disquieting you peep.” 
“No, no, no. There’s not much I can really do for you right now anyway. You sure you’re okay without food or anything?” 
“I thank you, my liege…peep… But my demonic force has not fully drained out of my body…peep…peep.” 
“Keh-heh… All right. See you later, then.” 
“Yes, my peep.” 
Then the ex-proud demon warrior Camio nestled down to rest into the towels Maou laid on the bottom of the box. Maou placed a cup of water in the box and set the AC on the high side, around eighty-three degrees, so it wouldn’t be too cold or hot for the demon. 
For a typical bird, this would be their cue to close their eyes and wait for death. But while he looked a bit like a mynah in critical condition, this was actually one of the greatest demons from Maou’s old stomping grounds, high enough in the ranks to recognize Ashiya and treat him with respect. 
He was Camio, the Devil Regent. 
Not every demon in the underworld set off with the Devil King’s forces to invade Ente Isla. In fact, most remained in their respective homelands. 
The organization Maou built from scratch, really the first true state that ever existed in his realm, needed to be governed by someone under his name while he was gone. That someone was Camio, ordered by Satan to serve as his official Devil Regent. 
As Maou’s representative, Camio ostensibly held all the powers of the Devil King when it came to affairs in his realm. But why was he in Japan, and so severely wounded? Maou didn’t know. Camio had fallen unconscious before he could say. 
The demon bird’s chirping went unnoticed until the following morning, by which time Urushihara was already groggily walking to Ohguro-ya after waking up a second time, so Maou had yet to find a chance to discuss matters in detail. 
One thing clear from Camio’s behavior, however, was that neither he, nor the cyclopean, nor the beast demonoid that preceded him, came here in search of Satan or his general Alciel. 
So what were they after, then? Why did they show up in Choshi? And how did they retain their demon-realm forms? Riddles piled upon riddles. 
But, sadly—truly sadly—Maou had no time to pursue any of these questions. 
Out in front, Chiho and the others were meekly waiting, supporting him in the current battlefield, trusting that he would return. 
“I have a job to go back to!” 
Returning to the store space and prepared for anything, he was surprised to find the two rented shaved-ice machines already there. 
It was not even twenty minutes since Emi placed the call. The ice seller must have been a lot closer by than he thought. In his mind, Maou gave his silent, heartfelt thanks to Nanchou Ice Manufacturing. 
“Urushihara! I’ll handle the ice. You just keep the lines orderly and hand out the drinks!” 
“Dude, don’t order me around!” 
Urushihara chafed at the order, of course, but realized that Emi was right. Maou would’ve preferred her out in front, where her attractiveness (visually, at least) would help garner more attention. But her pinch-hitting out back was sorely needed, and Urushihara wouldn’t learn anything from this otherwise. 
Ignoring the silent daggers of lightning Urushihara shot from his eyes, Maou gave one receipt pad each to Chiho and Amane, leaving them to handle orders and take money as he returned to his own job. 
By the time he started tackling the mountain of outstanding orders, Suzuno had restored the seafood yakisoba plate to the menu. She was standing in front of a large pot at the moment, filling it with curry in a mad dash to keep from running out. 
If they kept this up, they might just survive the lunch rush. 
It was thanks to the girls that they recovered from today’s mistakes. Starting tomorrow, they’d have to learn from them, figuring out how to improve their system so they didn’t need Chiho and the gang’s help. 
Looking back, Kisaki had been right all along, in her own way. If they made mistakes, it was fine. As long as they could make up for them all, it would never hurt in the end. 
Three in the afternoon. 
That’s how long it took before the orders died down and everyone could breathe again. 
All the tables were empty, there was some extra yakisoba simmering on the side of the griddle, and Maou took that as his cue to plop on a chair. 
“Uggghhhhh. I’m exhaaaaausted…!” 
“Here you are, Maou. From Amane.” 
Chiho handed him a bottle of chilled 5-Honest Energy. 
“Ah, thanks.” 
He grabbed it, opened the cap, and chugged the contents in one go. 
“Ooooooh. That hit the spot.” 
The ice-cold carbonation ran down his throat, the resulting light case of brain freeze feeling like a small vacation. 
“But really, though… Thanks, Chi. If you guys didn’t show up, I think we would’ve been screwed. Sorry we wound up putting all this work on you.” 
Chiho bowed her head as she sat next to him. “I’m just happy we helped you out.” 
“I bet some customers are gonna start asking about you tomorrow, Chi. That swimsuit looks good on you.” 
“…Huh?” 
From heartfelt thanks, straight to a backhanded compliment. It came out so naturally from Maou’s mouth that it took a moment or two for Chiho’s face to redden in response. 
“Ah, I, um, thank you. …Very much. Um…” 
No longer able to look Maou in the eye, Chiho wriggled her legs a bit as she stared at the 5-Honest Energy in her own hands. 
“It looks…good on me?” 
“Yeah. That’s why I said it. You didn’t…bring it with you, did you?” 
Chiho earnestly shook her head as she made eye contact with Amane, currently scrubbing the frying pan she used to sauté the pork and chicken. 
Maou followed her eyes over. Amane, for reasons only she knew, gave them both a thumbs-up. 
Her “go” sign, he supposed. 
“Y’know, I wasn’t gonna ask at first, but…well, it’s a cute swimsuit and all, so…um…” 
I wanted you to see it. Chiho wanted to blurt it out, but saying it out loud seemed in poor taste, so she opted to blush and stare at the floor instead. 
Maou easily interpreted the words she swallowed. 
“You know. We’re here at the beach and all, so I thought it’d be nice if you took advantage and swam a little bit.” 
“Oh! Oh yeah! Sure! Uh… Ha-ha-ha-ha! Ahhh…” 
Chiho picked up the conversation string, face still reddened, but suddenly let out a sigh. 
“It’s actually something they had on sale here at the beach house…” 
“Really?” 
Looking back at Amane, Maou saw her back turned to them, thumb still in the air. 
Besides the food and drink, Ohguro-ya offered some extent of summer merchandise—sunscreen, beach blankets, inner tubes, beach balls, and the like. 
Swimsuits hung from the walls as well, but swimsuits were much harder for a shop like this to manage. They were high-priced items—beach houses usually gambled with them, selling them at marked-up tourist prices—but generally speaking, they sold slowly, if at all. 
That was the problem with such things: The sort of person who went to a beach in midsummer without a swimsuit usually didn’t intend to go swimming in the first place. You needed someone enthused enough to hit the beach for some wild fun in the water, forgetful enough to leave their suit back at home, lazy enough not to run back to town and purchase one from a full-on beach supply shop, and rich enough not to mind the rip-off prices here. That didn’t happen often. 
Maou still wondered why Amane was so ready to give out her dead-stock inventory as presents, but given that it allowed Chiho and the girls to enjoy some summer leisure time by the sea, he didn’t regret her decision much. 
Besides, Maou wasn’t being polite. She really did look good. 
“Well, I like it. I bet that swimsuit’s proud it’s got you wearing it.” 
“Oh… I… Wow, thank you so—“ 
“Whoa there, Maou. Kind of playing favorites a little too much, huh?” 
Just as Chiho was about to spontaneously combust, Amane sidled in closer. 
“Chiho isn’t the only goddess who saved our butts today, y’know.” 
Her eyes turned to the other side of the shop. Emi and Suzuno looked back at them. 
“Ahh, well…you know.” 
Amane had a point, of course. Yesterday and today, there were countless challenges that would have gone unsolved without Emi and Suzuno’s help. So, remaining in his seat, Maou turned toward the pair, placed his hands on his knees, and bowed his head. 
“Thanks. You really helped me out.” 
The unexpectedly honest gratitude made Emi and Suzuno gasp and look at each other. 
“…I’m just making sure you owe me one. Like yesterday. I don’t need you thanking me.” 
“Emi is correct. We simply lent a hand because it would be a drag upon our heels if you blundered yourselves out of business. We do not seek your adulation or favor.” 
The gratitude was heartfelt; the response, less so. He left it at that, expecting little more from them in the first place. But Amane remained unconvinced. 
“Whoa there. That’s it? That’s not all, is it? Come on, give it a bit more oomph.” 
“Oomph? Oomph how?” 
“Oh, Maou, don’t say ‘oomph how’ to me! Chiho here’s got some gifts, that’s for sure, but you’ve got two other young ladies baring their all, too! Gotta compliment your wife sometime, you know? She’ll start running around on you if you don’t! Chiho’s suit was a freebie, but those two paid for theirs. A few choice compliments could earn you some mucho attaboy points right now, y’know?” 
It wasn’t Amane’s fault, maybe, but her skills at reading the relationship between these people proved profoundly lacking. 
“Huh…?” 
Maou was genuinely at a loss as he stared at Emi and Suzuno, their turned backs only adding to the awkwardness. 
Why do both of them have their backs to me? Pondering over this, Maou decided to bare his honest soul to them. 
“Um, I appreciate everything you guys did today, but I guess I don’t know if I should be complimenting you—or if there’s any point to it—or, like, did you really give up on the whole beach vacation thing after all?” 
He understood that a swimsuit was a vital fashion accessory to a woman, and that complimenting one would never offend anyone. That was common sense. He was quite generously willing to admit that Emi and Suzuno looked beautiful in their outfits. 
But in terms of their personal relationships, if you asked whether Emi and Suzuno were hoping for a compliment from him, the answer was absolutely no. 
And yet…it was weird. Maou thought he gauged the situation accurately enough with his words, but now he thought he saw their bodies shiver, a dark miasmic aura looming over them. 
“…Wow, are you blind, or what?” 
Amane was floored. From a third-party perspective, Maou was being at best petty, at worst abusive. 
“My l—Maou! Sir! Over here!” 
Surprisingly, it was Ashiya who threw a life preserver to Maou. 
“You are being far too honest! At least bend a bit and give them a compliment!” 
“Huh? Like, even if I did, you know…” 
“It does not matter who compliments them. Whether from a worm, or a cockroach, or even a waterbug, no woman minds a compliment! And how dare you say there is nothing to compliment about them! I sincerely doubt Yusa will respond as amiably as Ms. Sasaki, but it would make her feel conflicted, at least!” 
“Oh, come on. You’re just being mean now. Like, seriously? You’re putting me on a cockroach’s level?” 
“And while it is with my extreme reluctance, Suzuno does provide a service to us every day. If you would kindly practice some social etiquette and compliment her, perhaps that would remove some obstacles going—grrk!” 
As he feverishly griped at Maou, Ashiya suddenly rolled his eyes and collapsed on the beach. 
Maou and Chiho dragged him up, unable to carry his weight. At his feet was an unusually large chunk of ice; on his head, a yakisoba spatula. 
“We would never dream! In a million years! Of ever! Desiring your compliment!!” 
“Yeah. Besides, there’s nothing about me to compliment at alllll, right? Ohh, noooo.” 
Suzuno and Emi’s twin-pronged attack, more demonic than most demons, tore into Maou. 
Perhaps they didn’t realize it, but the way both of them crossed their arms in order to cover their chests was a bit touching, somehow. 
He wasn’t going to try praising them, but it wasn’t like he was totally oblivious to them, either. That was what he was trying to say, but if he did, they’d be tossing ice blocks and liquid nitrogen at him next. 
“Maou…Ashiya… I’ve lost faith in you.” 
With a grand wave, Amane—the woman who both set this scenario up and tore it down with her bare hands—departed to the back room. 
“Ha…ha. Ha-ha-ha-ha! Suzuno, your, uh, spatula…” 
The real victim here was undoubtedly Chiho, subjected to all these horrors through none of her own doing. 
“Chiho.” 
“Y-Yes?” 
Suzuno, accepting the spatula that Chiho peeled off Ashiya’s head, washed it in the sink and flashed, for just a moment, a resentful look at Chiho’s chest. 
“I know things are as they are, but I feel you must rethink this.” 
There was no way Chiho could offer a response to that. 
“So, uh, what? You guys want to be complimented, or what? I don’t get it.” 
Urushihara, safely out of the line of fire at his now-empty drink booth, fired a deviously hateful salvo at Emi as she indignantly scraped bits of ice off the machines. 
“You want me to kill you?” 
The way she palmed the ice pick in her hand spoke louder than her words. 
“Oh. Okay. Got it.” 
Urushihara had at least the sneaking suspicion that Ashiya was correct, but respectfully declined to mention that out loud, lest it directly affect his life expectancy. 
After that wise move, Urushihara rewarded himself by removing a can of soda from the available merchandise, opening it up, and entering full break-time mode. 
“…Um, if you’re free, would you mind cleaning the shaved-ice machines? It’s gonna rust if somebody doesn’t wipe the ice crystals off. Why do I have to do it? I’d just as soon disembowel you.” 
Emi’s reply only seemed excessive if one didn’t remember that Urushihara all but abandoned his post to her earlier. 
The fallen angel turned his head toward Emi as she continued stabbing away at the ice clogging up the nooks and crannies of the machine. 
“By the way, Yusa, there’s something I wanted to ask now that we’ve got the perfect opportunity here.” 
“What? Where’d that come from? If you’re gonna compliment me or something, I’m gonna decapitate you.” 
“Dude, all right, okay? Just listen.” 
Urushihara let out an audible belch as he took a drink from his can. 
“Urp… So, like, what do you think of Olba, anyway?” 
Were it not for the bright, sunny interior of the shop, the area would have felt suddenly enveloped in an anxious, dark silence. 
“That’s pretty sudden of you. And rude. …What do you mean, what do I think of him?” 
“Oh, nothing that deep. Just, like, are you enough of an optimist that you think he’s just out being a model prisoner somewhere?” 
“Well, no, but… It’s not like I could find out where he is now, and even if I did, what could I do about it?” 
“What if I said I knew?” 
The waves, the beach, and the people around Ohguro-ya were just as breezy as before, tropical and carefree. 
“What’re you…saying?” 
“He’s being indicted at the Shibuya district jail. I don’t know exactly where he is, though. They brought him up on weapons possession and destruction of property, but I’m sure that’s just a stopgap until they find some evidence to connect him to our little mugging spree.” 
“Wh-Why do you know all of that?” 
“What? I didn’t hack into government records or anything, dude. Anybody can have it looked up if they want to. You have to jump through a lot of hoops, but still. They arrested Olba as a non-Japanese resident, too, and that means human-rights groups and stuff have to get involved. You know how the news has been going on about foreigners getting freed from jail for crimes they didn’t commit, right?” 
Urushihara was actually learning about Japanese society, in his own way. Emi was impressed for a moment. 
“So anyway, I hacked into one of those human-rights groups’ databases.” 
Only for a moment. 
“…Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but they can only hold him in jail for a few days, right? It’s different from prison that way.” 
“Huh. You been studying?” 
“Well, you know, I watch a lot of TV dramas so I can keep up with conversations at work. Boy, when the main guy’s wife got killed during season six of Quaking Mad, that just about blew my mind!” 
Between her samurai shows and TV dramas, Urushihara began to wonder if the Hero would be staying up to watch late-night anime next. 
“That’s really nothing to be proud of, dude. Oh, that’ll be a hundred and twenty yen. Thanks.” 
With a sigh, Urushihara handed a cola bottle over to a passing customer. Over the past few hours, the whole process from money-taking to soda-giving had grown smoother and quicker—something neither Emi nor the ex-angel himself noticed. 
“…Anyway, a lot of the times, the prisons are so full up that people stay in jail even after they’ve been indicted. Olba hasn’t been accused of anything serious yet, so I’m sure he’s pretty low on the priority list for a prison spot. But that’s not the real problem.” 
Urushihara’s face grew stern—by his standards. 
“After you guys beat me on Ente Isla, I accepted his offer for two reasons. One was, basically, he said he wouldn’t kill me. After I lost, I kinda had no place to go—Malacoda and I weren’t really on good terms, and it’s not like you guys were just gonna let me run off somewhere.” 
“…Even today, I regret that I didn’t run you through for good. Just one more thrust.” 
“Dude, you’re gonna make Alas Ramus’s vocabulary all weird if you keep that up. Hey, where is she, anyway?” 
“I told Amane that she’s in your room behind the shop. But she’s in here.” 
Emi pointed a finger to her temple. 
“She’s not crying or carrying on or nothin’?” 
It was a surprisingly well-considered question, by his standards. 
“We woke up before dawn to watch the sun rise. We played in the water a while before coming here, too, so she’s sleeping right now. …What’s the other reason?” 
“Huh. Cool. …But, Maou told you that one before: Obla told me he’d serve as an intermediary between me and heaven.” 
Not long ago, in front of Sasazuka station, Urushihara and Emi had faced each other as mortal enemies. Neither of them could have imagined that they’d be managing a busy beachfront restaurant and sundries shop in Chiba a scant while later. 
“The Devil King’s armies were annihilated, but I couldn’t stay in the human world. As far as refuges went, back to heaven was just about it. I remember him telling me… He said, ‘I have all the material I need to negotiate with heaven.’” 
“‘Negotiate…with heaven’?” 
“Yeah. And he said I was one of his bargaining chips, too. I mean, taking a fallen angel people sang about in legends and reforming him into an angel worthy of returning to heaven… Like, that’d make the big guys up there flip their miters, right? Hell, they’d probably make him an angel while they were at it.” 
It depends on how you look at it, Emi reflected. By that logic, Maou taking an angel who’d fallen this low and forging him into an at least semi-focused hourly laborer should have earned the Devil King a spot among the clouds, too. 
“But the real ace he had up his sleeve, you know, was you, Emilia.” 
“Me?” 
Having her name come up unexpectedly made Emi’s ice-stabbing hand stop in midair. 
“Just like Maou said. I mean, we thought you probably weren’t much more to him than another thorn in his side. But something doesn’t add up. He literally had Emeralda Etuva and Albert Ende in a cell in Ente Isla, but he let them live. Why? I mean, Emeralda’s way up there in Empire politics, right? He must’ve known letting her go would mean trouble for him later.” 
“True, yeah.” 
The Holy Empire of Saint Aile’s relationship with the Church was undeniably unwinding. Emeralda said as much over the phone. Having Olba’s crimes bubble up a bit to the surface, and offering at least broad hints of Church corruption, led to questions about its influence on the Western Island. It put the Church at a slight disadvantage in the ensuing power struggles over the rebuilding of the Central Continent and, seemingly, everything else. 
“So there’s something I want to check on. The Holy Silver that’s used in your sword, and the Cloth of the Dispeller… Who managed that stuff?” 
Emi could feel the blood drain from her head as she heard the question. 
“…The Church’s department of diplomatic and missionary operations—where Olba was. The missionary side handles all of the holy instruments… Those are at the very center of the Archbishops’ seats, after all. The main Church building.” 
“Huh. I figured. Well, they all probably knew the whole time that the Holy Silver was really a bunch of Yesod fragments. I couldn’t guess what else he could’ve tried bargaining with heaven over.” 
It wasn’t the chill from the ice machine that made Emi shiver just then. 
“He had to give the sword and the Cloth to the Hero to fight off the Devil King army. But unlike Sariel and Gabriel, he knew they couldn’t just fetch the Holy Silver out of your body afterward. He figured you wouldn’t be too willing to just hand it back once it was all over. And if you got into politics once the rebuilding began, the Church would lose a crapload of influence. That, and they’d never get their Yesod bits back.” 
“…Why was Olba so eager to make contact with heaven, anyway?” 
“That, I don’t know. But given how many tools he has, I really doubt Olba’s just gonna sit around in prison for the next few years. We haven’t worried much about him lately, but now that I’m out here and kind of, y’know, seriously thinking about things… I’m startin’ to get a little nervous.” 
“…Lucifer…” 
“Plus, the new Monster Capturer is s’posed to come out for the GSP portable soon. If he starts something major out here, I won’t be able to buy the limited-edition version. With the custom GSP and everything.” 
“……………………………………………………” 
There’s just no saving you, is there? In so many ways. 
“Uh, I can read your lips.” 
“Oh? Oh.” 
“Besides, the holy sword and stuff is your problem anyway, right? I’m just sayin’, think about it a little.” 
“Yeah, thanks. Really appreciate that advice. That’s why I’m doing you all these favors right now, remember?” 
“You call scraping ice off that thing a favor? Plus, you and Maou seem to think it’s all over with Gabriel, but there’s no way he’s gonna pull back, either. He’s pretty well-known for being a persistent bastard like that.” 
“…I kind of know that, too, thanks.” 
There were mixed emotions to Emi’s voice as she shot a glance at Maou and Chiho. 
Just like Chiho worried about, Emi had yet to craft any concrete plan for dealing with Gabriel, nor any of the other unknown threats swooping down from the heavens. 
“But with me and Alas Ramus right now, I really don’t think I’d lose a match against them.” 
“Yeah. One-on-one, maybe. It’s not like we know what happened last night is totally unrelated, either. Maybe they’re trying some weird ruse or something to attack us where we—” 
“What happened last night?” 
“…Uh, you didn’t notice?” 
“Notice what?” 
Urushihara paused. He had assumed Emi and Suzuno had picked up on the the previous night’s demon attack. 
The demonic power Camio flew in with last night was nothing trivial in scope. And Urushihara used his holy magic, too, though not an enormous amount of it. 
He didn’t know where Emi and Suzuno stayed last night, but if they were inside the city of Choshi, they couldn’t not have noticed. 
“Hey! Emi! Got a sec?” 
Just as Urushihara was about to confirm his suspicion, he heard Maou call for Emi as he chatted with Chiho. 
Turning upward, he saw Maou and Chiho, engaged in some silly gabfest about something or other a moment ago, now approaching them with oddly stern faces. 
“I heard from Chi that you stayed on Cape Inuboh-saki, right? When all that fog came in, did you seriously not notice anything?” 
“Not notice what of anything? I’m really not sure what you’re talking about, but what’s up?” 
Maou exchanged glances with Urushihara, then lowered his tone a notch. 
“I’m saying, you didn’t notice any demonic or holy force?” 
“Huh?” 
He shot another glance, this time to ensure Amane was still focused on her dishwashing, then continued. 
“Uh, let’s go out back a sec… Hey, Amane! I’m going out for a minute!” 
“Sure thing!” Amane shouted back, not bothering to turn around. 
Since the bar was still open, the three of them left Urushihara at the register, nodded to each other, and headed for the guest quarters out back. 
They needed to awaken the still-unconscious Ashiya anyway. 
Leaving the front entrance, they found Suzuno busy repairing the Sarou-Sotengai castle as the drying sand and ocean breeze began to erode the walls. 
Given that she was doing this in her swimsuit, a crowd had already formed around her. Like a practiced artisan, she focused on her work, not giving her onlookers so much as a passing glance. 
It was a charming little scene, but one had to question whether she wanted to be such a public figure right now. Maou idly considered building a barricade for tomorrow as he let the other two into the guest room. 
“Oh, I think she’s getting up.” 
The moment they went in, Emi’s faced turned upward in recognition as she sat on the tatami floor. 
She extended her hands to form a natural cradle. As she did, a mass of light osmosed out of her body, neatly settling upon her arms before taking the form of Alas Ramus. 
“Well, that’s sure useful. I bet every mother in the world’s jealous of you by now.” 
“Yeah, as long as they don’t mind being woken up at night by screaming from inside their head, I’d love to mommy-blog some tips someday. Are you up, Alas Ramus?” 
“Mnngh…uuugh…” 
The newly formed Alas Ramus squirmed in Emi’s arms, hands reaching out to empty space. The bird-and-cage toy from last night’s fireworks show was still carefully held in her hands. 
Emi brought a hand to the child’s free one. She gently grasped one of her more-or-less mother’s fingers as she gradually opened her eyes. 
“Good morning, Alas Ramus. Is your diapey okay?” 
“Oogh morring… Nnh, okay.” 
Alas Ramus rubbed her eyes with both fists as she groggily replied. 
“Well, now that she’s awake, I guess I’m off the clock workwise.” 
Emi held Alas Ramus in her arms as she spoke. Maou nodded. He had no particular complaint. 
“Sure. Thanks for the help. But anyway, I wanted you to see that.” 
Maou pointed at the cardboard box in the corner. Behind it, something long and thin was wrapped in a threadbare, somewhat dirty black towel. 
Chiho and Emi took a peek inside. 
“Aw, cute.” 
Chiho whispered it immediately. 
“Tweety-tweet moooved!!” 
Alas Ramus, commenting in Emi’s place, leaned over for a touch. 
“No, Alas Ramus. Don’t touch. It looks pretty weak…” 
“Peep…peep…Lord Satan? …Have you concluded your duties? …Peep?” 
“?!” 
“Tweety-tweet!” 
The blackbird’s sudden question made Chiho and Emi lean back in astonishment even as it filled Alas Ramus with paroxysms of glee. It was no doubt a melancholy sight for the bird from last night’s fireworks, which she now carelessly tossed aside. 
“Don’t do that, Alas Ramus. Chiho gave that to you, remember? You need to be nice to it.” 
Maou, obviously enjoying the audience reaction, picked up the toy bird and returned it to Alas Ramus’s hand. 
“Peep…mnngh… I detect humans. Lord Satan, peep, who are these—?” 
It was clearly a small bird, cute chirping and everything, but the gravelly, ponderous way it spoke made things more than a bit eerie. 
“…Is that a mynah or something?” 
“It’s…cute? Or maybe not so cute…” 
Chiho and Emi looked to Maou for an explanation. 
The response he gave was a shock to them both. 
“This is a demon from my realm. He fell out of the sky last night.” 
Camio, the Devil Regent. Emi had never heard the name, nor the title before. 
She never thought she’d receive a guided tour of domestic political affairs from the gnarled lips of a demon, either. 
But this little bird Camio was a military officer, one who apparently served the Devil King since back when he first began his conquest. There was no Devil King’s Army back then, no mass organization of slavering monsters at their beck and call. Ashiya and Urushihara didn’t even know Maou’s name yet. It was an ancient time, one when chaos still ruled the demon realms. 
Satan, seeking to unify this realm under his rule, invited Camio—begged, really, repeatedly—to join his cause, although his force of warriors was still too ill-equipped and ragtag to creditably be termed an “army” yet. 
Although he would be an impossibly formidable foe to your average human being, Camio was not particularly high up on the demonic social ladder. 
Yet, in a realm where strength and depravity was all that counted, Camio had banded together a group of his own demons—even though a human in reasonable shape could probably have KO’d some of them in three rounds of bare-knuckle action—creating a force that could survive and fend for itself. 
Seeing this, Satan recruited Camio in order to learn what it took to stay alive in this game. 
Camio hardly took Satan seriously at first, nor the weak clan of wannabes he led. But over time, he found himself joining them, impressed by the young warlord’s innate perception and wisdom. 
The wisdom, of course, that Satan was gifted at a very young age by a certain angel. 
As Maou put it, “If Camio wasn’t there, no way I could have formed anything like the demon force we had.” 
An appraisal like that would have made Camio the instant enemy of Emi and the rest of Ente Isla. But he was one of the few denizens of the demon realms gifted in the arts of persuasion and negotiation. 
He had an innate gift for language, learning the tongues and customs of each demon tribe and even deciphering the calls of all nature’s creatures. 
That might have been the reason why he used native-level Japanese from the moment he fell to Kimigahama, as if nothing could be more natural. 
Thanks to his advice, Satan and his gang avoided confrontation with the more formidable foes of the day, occasionally rescuing other tribes from disaster, occasionally using Camio’s diplomatic gifts to gradually build and expand their force. 
Then, in what both Satan and Camio would call their biggest turning point in their careers, they encountered Alciel. 
Just like the two of them, Alciel was a local strongman, aiming to harness his intelligence to strengthen his already-expansive powers and army. 
By that point, Satan’s force was a fairly decent size, his name beginning to attain notoriety among the general demon public. It was a time when infighting between different demon races gathered in the same region was threatening to explode into large-scale war. 
Thanks to Alciel’s timely initiation into the tribe, Satan was able to leave him with the task of managing military expansion, while Camio focused on smoothing things over with his army’s recruits. Their strength as an organization grew exponentially, and before they knew it, they were a major force, one powerful enough that demons from every region were volunteering to join the hordes. 
“The one thing Camio really surprised me with when we reorganized our outfit’s structure was the the concept of wyvern licenses.” 
“Wyvern…licenses?” 
“What’s a wyvern?” 
Emi and Chiho tilted their heads in confusion for different reasons. 
Wyverns were one of several mountable creatures the Devil King’s force used as transport across the battlefield. They were best described as enormous flying lizards. But who would give out licenses for those things, and how? 
“Well, there weren’t too many wyverns out there, for one. We needed to be more efficient with using them. So we selected the demons that had the best knack for wyvern wrangling and gave them a combat decoration that served as their right to fight on a flying mount.” 
This made a knowledge of wyvern husbandry a sort of status symbol in Satan’s force, vastly improving cohesion and giving rank-and-file demons something to aim for in their brutish, violent careers. 
“……” 
For Emi, learning about such highly…civilized practices being conceived of by demons from another world came as a pure, unadulterated surprise. 
In the end, Satan united all the demon realms and declared himself Devil King. When his ambitions turned toward Ente Isla, Camio served as Satan’s regent during the conquest, assuming leadership over the remaining denizens of his native land. 
He still hadn’t had a chance to ask why Camio fell straight on Kimigahama, alongside several of his demon soldiers. 
Emi, meanwhile, had trouble believing any of this tale. 
“So you’re saying that not just Camio but two other demons just popped into existence on the beach? In that fog?” 
“Hug tweety-tweet!” 
Alas Ramus’s focus was still squarely upon the live bird in front of her, and getting her hands on it. Emi deftly kept her nubby digits away as she looked on, her face still profoundly confused. 
“Cyclopeans and beast demonoids are mostly rank-and-file melee fighters…but I seriously didn’t pick up on them in the distance between here and Cape Inuboh-saki. That’s ridiculous.” 
“Yeah, you see? I mean, I thought you might’ve ripped those dudes apart at first. But you didn’t even touch ’em, right?” 
“No. If I did, I would’ve killed them. Not let ’em run off bleeding.” 
“So…someone besides you, Maou, and you, Yusa, dispatched these demons from another world?” 
Maou nodded his approval of Chiho’s summary. 
“I’m thinking about checking out that lighthouse later.” 
“The Inuboh-saki lighthouse? We were there this morning.” 
“What?!” 
Chiho looked to Emi for approval. Emi nodded. 
“You can, too, if you pay for a ticket. You can climb the stairs all the way up if you want. I saw the signal house with that big foghorn from last night and everything. There wasn’t anything else special about it.” 
The foghorn that had sounded multiple times. That was the only shared experience Maou and Emi had that evening. 
“They had this cartoon lighthouse guy on the signs telling you how many steps you had to go. It was pretty cute!” 
Emi’s idea of “special” was a bit different from the travel-magazine details Chiho gushed about. 
“So the fog rolled in, these guys showed up, they were wrapped in fog, the lighthouse lit it up, and they were gone. It’d be crazy if the lighthouse wasn’t involved somehow, right?” 
“But this is Japan. You don’t have lighthouse keepers manning the tops of those towers all night like in Ente Isla. Plus, that was built years ago. It’s not gonna be infused with demonic energy or…” 
“Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeep?!!” 
“Tweety-tweet!” 
Camio’s sudden shrill scream stopped Emi’s rebuttal in its tracks. 
As the grown-ups were having their extremely grown-up conversation, Alas Ramus slipped out of Emi’s hands and leaned into the box to touch Camio…only to grab and pick up the blackbird by its tail feathers. 
“Whoa! Alas Ramus, no!” 
“No tweety-tweet?” 
“L-Let me free! Accursed human child! PEEP!” 
Camio continued shouting as Alas Ramus held on, peeping like mad and whipping his wings around like a hummingbird. It was a less than noble display for the Devil Regent and one of the most learned demons in all the realms. 
“S-Stop it, Alas Ramus! No! The bird’s saying you’re hurting him!” 
“It, it does! Ow! She will pluck my tail feathers before she’s done! Peep!” 
One classic way to handle a child who doesn’t know how to treat animals with care is to try some variant on “See? It’s crying! Can’t you hear it crying?” This, however, was likely the first time any bird literally pleaded for mercy at the hands of its tormentor. 
“Gahhpeep!” 
Scolded by Emi, Alas Ramus finally let go. Camio, wings still flailing with all his might, wound up flying all the way to the wall. 
The force was enough to knock over the long object concealed by the towel behind the box, trapping the bird underneath as it fell. 
“Uh… Camio! You all right?” 
The tubelike object made a heavy clunking sound against the floor. 
“Gnh, peep… Y-Yes, my lord! It is not a grave injury…” 
Now the surprise was enough to make Maou freeze. 
“Uh, whoa, you’re huge…” 
Camio, whom they thought had been crushed by the object in the towel, suddenly emerged bloated to the size of a chicken, like a novelty sponge growing several times its size in water. 
“Cock-a-doodle-doo!!” 
Alas Ramus’s eyes beamed in sheer wonder. 
She nimbly escaped Emi’s hands, taking advantage of her guardian’s shock and awe, and attempted a full-body tackle on the rooster-sized Camio. 
“Ah! Alas Ramus, stop it!” 
“Nhh! I—I will not take this indignity a second time, peep!!” 
Camio, to his credit, was not a willing participant. Leaping over the fallen object that crashed over him, he dug the claws of his short legs into the tatami floor, trotting just out of Alas Ramus’s reach. 
“Cock-a-doooo!!” 
“Did you think a mere human child could peep capture me?!” 
Trot, scamper, toddle, flap. 
The black chicken, wings flapping incessantly, and the silver-haired child chasing it trundled in and among Maou, Emi, and Chiho, like a certain Great Dane and his lanky pal pursuing a spooky space alien around a haunted house. 
“No! Alas Ramus, stop! You’re gonna fall over…” 
As if on cue, Alas Ramus fell. 
She tripped on the long, towel-covered object Camio had just leaped over a second time. 
Obeying at least the law of momentum, she toppled forward, doing a somersault on the floor. She looked around, a bit too bewildered to know what just happened. 
“Y-You all right, Alas Ramus?! Are you hurt?!” 
Maou helped her up in a panic, but Alas Ramus seemed happily unfazed as she shook her head. 
“H-Huff-huff-huff-peep…huff… V-Victory is mine… Peeeep?!” 
Meanwhile, Camio the black chicken, catching his breath in a very non-adorable manner by one corner, found himself grabbed by the neck by Emi, her eyes almost popping out of their sockets. 
“If you hurt Alas Ramus, I’ll sautée you and toss you in a curry pot. We clear on that?” 
“Um, I really don’t think Camio’s the one at fault here…” 
Chiho turned to their child, her voice a bit on the unusually harsh side. 
“Come on, Alas Ramus, say you’re sorry to the chicken here. You scared him, don’t you see?” 
Alas Ramus looked like she would tear up for a moment, but gave a pouty nod instead. 

“Ooo… I’m shorrie.” 
“Keh… Ha-ha-ha! I am not one to grow angered over the peep…playful eagerness of a child. A human one, at peep that.” 
He looked far more distressed than that at the time, but Camio was surprisingly eager to overlook the rambunctious Alas Ramus’s all-out attack. 
Emi, brought back to reality by Chiho’s semi-stern reproach, grudgingly placed the chicken back in his box. 
“…Getting back to the subject, if he wasn’t here to see you, what did this chicken come to Japan for, even? And also…” 
Emi looked at the long, apparently metallic object that had smashed upon Camio’s body and tripped Alas Ramus over in alarming fashion. 
“What is that? Why’d it blow up the bird so much?” 
“Gehh… Um, before that…” 
Camio, his neck still firmly ensconced in Emi’s death grasp, deftly rubbed his wings together as he looked to Maou for salvation. 
“Lord Satan… Do I have your peepmission to explain matters to these peep… These people?” 
“Huh? Sure. Go ahead.” 
Maou gave the chicken a friendly nod. 
“You’re right, by the way. These two are humans. This is Chiho Sasaki; she knows about me and Alciel, and she’s been a lot of help to us in this world.” 
“Ohh, is that the case, young peep human girl? On my master’s behalf, I offer you my utmost thanks.” 
The black rooster stood up in his box, extended a wing out in a sort of exaggerated wave, and leaned his head deeply downward. 
“Oh, um, not at all. I mean, he…um, Satan? Has been a huge help to me, too.” 
Chiho found herself kneeling forward in a bow herself. 
It was a historical moment—a high representative from the demon realms exchanging a cross-dimensional moment of Japanese-style understanding with one of that nation’s own finest citizens. 
“And the baby who grabbed your tail and this girl are the holy sword and her Hero, respectively.” 
“Peeeep?!” 
“Hey!” 
“Maou?!” 
The sudden confession from Maou made Camio’s, Emi’s, and Chiho’s eyes goggle in their own respective ways. Camio stood up once more, beak wide open as he stared blankly at Emi and Alas Ramus. 
He was surprised, but not as much as Emi and Chiho. 
“What’re you going around just admitting it for?!” 
Even if he looked like a petting-zoo reject, he was still a high-ranking demon in good standing. 
Camio was Emi’s enemy, and the opposite was true as well. 
“The peepro of the peep sword…?!” 
“…Hey, you mind if I make some chicken curry tonight after all?” 
“Leave him. He’s not doing it on purpose.” 
Maou had to stop Emi from reaching into the box. 
“And don’t get it wrong, Camio. That’s not the ‘Peep-ro’ of the holy sword. That’s the ‘Peep-ro’ and the holy sword.” 
“Maou, I think you need to start being serious before Yusa goes out of her mind.” 
Chiho’s astute observation was the only thing that saved the Devil Regent’s neck from being wringed to pieces by Emi’s iron fist. 
“Satan peep.” 
“Uh, who’s Satan Peep?” 
“Satan Peep!” 
At least his vocal tic kept Alas Ramus entertained. 
Camio skillfully leaped to the rear, saving him from Maou’s frustrated swipe. 
“The Hero of the Holy Sword was the cause of our invading force’s destruction. Why are you sitting here, so familiar with the Hero and her sword…………peep?” 
After all that effort stringing a sentence together, it was like he couldn’t resist one little spasm at the end. 
Peeping or not, there was nothing in Camio’s voice that suggested resentment toward Maou. It was seeking an answer. It wanted to know Maou’s true intentions. Peeping or not. 
But Emi stepped up to reply first. 
“…It all just kind of happened. Just remember, I’m ready to slice the Devil King’s head off in his sleep anytime I want. And you don’t try anything funny, either, or it’s the dinner table for you. If you wanna keep on living, don’t tell any other demon that I bear the Better Half, either.” 
The Hero’s habit of sounding like the villain of a gangster film was well familiar to Maou by now. It cowed the black chicken into bleak submission. 
“…Is kind of what it is, but there’s more to it than that. Lemme put it in a way you’d probably understand… Even Alciel was our foe once upon a time, yeah…?” 
“……peep.” 
Maou sat cross-legged on the tatami floor, making sure he came in loud and clear to the rooster in the box. 
“Remember how we managed to conquer the demon realms? I got a dream… A dream of doing that all over again here, in this country, with these humans. Maybe it all ‘just kind of happened,’ but me and the Hero have worked pretty closely together, y’know.” 
This all went over Emi’s and Chiho’s heads. 
“Your dream of conquest…!” 
This was a pact Satan and Camio forged long ago, in a realm far, far away. The decisive reason why Camio agreed to serve the young Satan in the first place. 
“It peep…pains me so that I failed to support you alongside your great General to the East.” 
“If I win this, even the foes I warred with yesterday can be tomorrow’s companions.” 
He was the only demon who knew that “conquering” was about more than turning battlefields into burnt wastes, filled with the bloodied corpses of the conquered. 
Maou laughed. 
“Yeah, I was kinda hoping you’d be more patient, back there…” 
“Wait, what’re you talking about?” 
“Maou?” 
The Devil King grinned sheepishly at the confused Emi and Chiho. 
“…We’re talking about how we failed to invade Ente Isla, even after I united the entire demon realm.” 
“Huhh?” 
“You may not believe this, but if you talk to Camio, you’d be amazed how accepting he is. He doesn’t look down on anybody—Hero, human, whatever. You picked up on that much, right? Once the heavens started directly meddling with things on Ente Isla, we were always gonna be a lot more than two warriors beating each other down until someone died. Even if it winds up being like that someday, we still got Alas Ramus to worry about. If we went at it right now, we might have to have Alas Ramus kill her own parents.” 
Maou caressed Alas Ramus’s hair. 
“Nee-hee!” 
She raised a fumbling hand to his. 
“We all eat around the same table these days, but it’s not like you keep me alive just because you accept it as fate or whatever, right?” 
“Of course, but what’re you trying to say?” 
There was a tone of alarm to Emi’s voice. 
“Like I told you—I know we’ll have to settle this someday. But if we want that to happen, we’re gonna have to share at least the bare minimum of information to deal with what’s going on today. Otherwise, we might expose Alas Ramus to danger. Like we did with Gabriel.” 
“……” 
She didn’t like it. He was the Devil King, for cripes’ sake. But there was absolutely nothing she could do to counter that. 
And she knew it, too. She knew it without requiring the demon’s reminder. 
“You are as direct in your s-peepch as always, Lord Satan. There are times, with a hated foe, when emotions do pose an obstacle to plain logic.” 
Camio sighed as he watched Emi. 
“Peep-ro of the holy sword.” 
“What the hell’s a ‘Peep-ro’?!” 
“If you find it difficult to accept, peep of it this way: If you share a common enemy, then share what must be shared, as long as you do not interfere with each other. There is no need to fight side by side in actual battle as peepquals.” 
Camio, increasingly succumbing to the one most annoying of his vocal habits, felt himself wither under Emi’s glare. 
“…I know that much, all right? I don’t need you lecturing me about it like my grandmother. So can we get on with the topic?! I want some answers!” 
All she could do was turn her back to them in dismay. Maou and Camio, after all, were absolutely correct. 
Maou, Camio, and Chiho grinned to themselves as they turned their eyes toward Emi’s back. 
In her own, unique way, she understood. 
“All right. Go ahead, Camio. What did you come to Japan for? Why were you half-slashed to death on the way? What did you mean when you said the demon realms and Ente Isla face chaotic times once more? And what’s that?” 
Maou pointed at the heavy-looking tube hidden by the towel. 
It contained the jeweled sword that once graced Camio’s side. 
His armor was now shattered, his body reduced to Sunday-evening dinner size, but the sword still retained its keen, dazzling shine. 
It was wrapped in the cape Camio once wore, in part to keep Amane from stumbling across it, but in part because Maou surmised this was a sword of far more importance than the mere value of its jewels. 
The angels who appeared from Ente Isla all had very clear objectives up to now: fetch the holy sword, kill Emi/Maou, that sort of thing. 
But here, there was next to nothing to go on. Demons, coming to Japan, and not at the bidding of their lord. It was all an enigma. 
“That…” 
Camio opened his beak to answer the question that struck at the core of Maou’s concerns. 
Until someone knocked on the door. 
“…Yeah?” 
Urushihara wouldn’t have bothered knocking. If it was Ashiya or Suzuno, they would’ve spoken up first. Which left only one answer. 
“Maou?” 
It was Amane. 
Strange. It was the same voice as always, but—maybe it was the AC affecting their ears—did it sound a touch colder than usual, perhaps? 
“I heard something like a chicken suffocating to death a second ago, but is everything all right? And, you know, a husband and wife skipping out on work to have an argument? I never read that advice column before!” 
Through all the sarcasm, it was understandable that the group’s now-extended absence alarmed her. 
Camio’s pained squawk and Emi’s raised voice must’ve been enough to raise customer eyebrows. 
“Mind if I come in?” 
“S-Sure.” 
Maou gave Camio a “no talking” glare as he spoke. The woman didn’t know a thing about him, after all. 
“All right… Wow, what’s with that chicken?” 
She opened the door, still sweating with hair tied back, oil and curry stains on her apron, her sandals off. 
Her dark eyes weren’t focused on Maou, or Emi, or Chiho, or Alas Ramus. They were fixated on Camio. 
The odd reaction did not escape Maou’s notice. 
From the moment she opened the door—before then, even—her eyes were firmly upon Camio’s cardboard box, and nothing else. 
It was as if she knew everyone inside this room, and everything that just went on. 
If she was just here to check on things, Amane would have made eye contact with at least one of the people inside. All three of them had their eyes on her. 
Amane kept her eyes upon Camio, unmoving, as she approached. 
“Wow, a black chicken? You guys makin’ some yakitori later?” 
“Peeep?!” 
Camio sounded petrified. 
“Um…I found it last night. It was hurt…” 
It sounded strained even as Maou said it. How could a chicken blunder its way on to this beach? But nothing else came to mind—and besides, he wasn’t lying. 
Not even Maou’s excuse made Amane shift her gaze. 
“Well, I don’t think there’re any chicken coops nearby. Maybe it’s somebody’s pet? We should probably check with the local vet.” 
“Y-Yeah… Definitely.” 
“Also, Urushihara’s whining for you all to come back, okay? I think the rush is over, but we’ll have to start closing up soon.” 
Maou could feel his nervousness subside, little by little. 
Thinking rationally for a moment, if you saw a chicken in your guest house, it’d probably throw you off, too. They had been talking for a while. As their boss, it wasn’t strange at all that Amane was looking for them. 
Maou cleared the concern from his mind as he bowed his head. 
“I’m sorry. I’ll be right there.” 
“Great!” 
With that, Amane finally removed her eyes from Camio. 
“…Oo?” 
Then, for whatever reason, she flashed a perplexing smile at Alas Ramus. 
“Aw, look at you, little girl! Wonder what she’s gonna be like when she grows up, huh?” 
“Waph!” 
With a few pats to the girl’s head, she left. 
“…Well, that’s all we can discuss for now.” 
As long as Maou was employed, there was no defying his boss. 
Beachfront businesses like these usually closed well before sunset. They would have another chance later. 
But there, in a murmur: 
“You can go back to work. I’ll ask him about the rest.” 
“Huh?” 
“…I said, I’ll get the rest of the story from him! So just go to work already! If we need to take action immediately, I’ll let you know!” 
Emi glared at Maou, as if trying to sniper him using just her eyes. 
“W-Well, sure, but…are you sure?” 
“Am I sure? What did you guys just waste all that time lecturing me about?!” 
Maou and Camio had no way of telling, but Emi’s “you guys” included Chiho, too. 
It was clear Emi didn’t want to face the truth. Her face was red, her eyes liable to tear up at any moment, but she was still a seasoned warrior. She wasn’t someone who didn’t know what was urgent, and what needed to take priority. 
“…Great. Well, go ahead. I’m counting on you.” 
“Don’t count on me! I’m doing this out of my own volition!” 
“All right, all right. That’s fine, too. Camio, if you wouldn’t mind telling—” 
“That woman.” 
“—her about… Huh? What about her?” 
“That woman… I was powerless to stop her. She had the strength of a demonic goddess.” 
“You’re…talking about Amane?” 
Maou, Chiho, even Emi doubted their ears. 
The Devil Regent nodded his small beak sagely, beady eyes wide open. 
“She was the one…who plunged my soldiers into the roaring of that enormous dragon…” 
 
By the time Ohguro-ya officially closed, the sky was already beginning to stain a dark red. 
Once five PM rolled around, demand dwindled for nearly everything except the lockers and the shower room. 
Briskly, Maou and the rest polished up the griddle, washed the drink cooler’s waste-water tray, placed the covers on the shaved-ice machines, and inspected the remaining food, drinks, and other merchandise. 
Amane printed a sales journal out from the register, showing off the approximate calculations for the day’s proceeds to everyone nearby. 
Once they emptied the lockers and coin-op shower locks, they would have a full grasp of how much they had made that day. 
“Just from the register alone…we made it past three hundred and fifty thousand yen.” 
The smile was genuine as she held up the receipt paper. 
“I still have to punch in Urushihara’s drink and shaved-ice proceeds, the to-go orders from Ashiya, and the coins from the shower and the lockers…but I think we may just break five hundred thousand when it’s all said and done. That’s probably the first time since we opened up.” 
“Yeah…but if Chi and the gang didn’t show up, it all would’ve fallen apart halfway through. We had to use a lot of petty cash to get going, too. We’ll need to rein that in if we wanna keep it going.” 
Maou compared the day’s sales record with the previous year’s accounting ledger. 
He’d underestimated the number of customers to expect, leading to a near breakdown in the afternoon—a point he still regretted. But simply comparing the numbers, they’d almost doubled their sales from the same day last year, an astronomical improvement. 
That was thanks to Maou’s sales strategy, to some extent, but the root cause likely boiled down to the happy-go-lucky, yeah-whatever approach Amane and her family took to the shop before now. 
“No doubt about it. We’re gonna get a ton of traffic. Lordy, if this is what we get every day, I don’t know what I’m gonna do! Oh! Yusa, Chiho, Kamazuki, I’ve got something for you!” 
The three women, back in their street clothes, were preparing to return to their inn when Amane called for them. 
“Here’s your wages for these past two days. You really helped out, you know? Thanks. I gave you a little bonus for that sand castle, Kamazuki. Almost wish I could ask you for one of those every day!” 
Suzuno’s Sarou-Sotengai masterpiece attracted some serious attention. The resulting word of mouth was undoubtedly the unsung hero behind today’s sales. 
Maou was already pondering over ways to harness that talent going forward. 
That odd, out-of-place aura Amane emanated in the guest room was a thing of the past by the time he returned to work. 
Even Chiho, returning to her own duties, was back to her usual bubbly self. 
But still, somewhere inside of Maou, the anxiety was still there. Camio all but wailing “no más” in Amane’s presence was troubling. That, and Emi’s awkward act. 
But after about an hour’s work, Emi came back to the shop space, Alas Ramus in hand. The look of sheer depression on her face was obvious to anyone with eyes. 
She played around a bit along the shore with Alas Ramus, along with Chiho and Suzuno now that they were off work. But a passing remark was all it took to cloud her expression once more. 
“Boy, it’s a shame you’re all leaving tomorrow, though!” 
Amane put some light pressure on them to stay, but Chiho had made a promise to her parents, and Emi didn’t have any more vacation days to spare. The Ohguro-ya proprietor didn’t seem genuinely interested in keeping them, but the sadness in her voice was still evident. 
“…Oop?” 
A vibration in Maou’s shorts indicated an incoming text. 
“……” 
Maou wasn’t foolish enough to look toward the sender. 
“What’s up, Maou? Your face’s lookin’ all dark.” 
It was. Thanks to a day spent working beachside, all the demons were sporting a light tan. 
The tan was inconsequential, though. Taking care not to let Amane hear him as she shot a photo of herself with Chiho in front of Suzuno’s sand castle, he beckoned Urushihara and Ashiya to come closer. 
“I’m going out tonight. You guys’re coming, too.” 
 
Inuboh-saki Lighthouse was designed and built in 1874 by Richard Henry Brunton, a British architect invited to Japan to help shore up their coastline infrastructure. 
After several remodels and reconfigurations to adapt it for war and peacetime, the tower was now one of only six “Type One” lighthouses remaining in Japan, its first-order Fresnel lens offering a sweep range of almost 22.5 miles. 
At the base of this tower, the beam of light lazily revolving above them in the dark, Maou, Ashiya, and Urushihara faced down Emi, a cardboard box in their hands. 
“By yourself, huh? What about Chi and Suzuno?” 
“I told Bell. She’s safe with Chiho now, just in case.” 
The chances of Emi choosing this moment for a final battle with the Devil King seemed slim. But was she still anticipating a “just in case” at the end of it all? 
Maybe that would become clear once he knew where his beloved daughter was. 
“And Alas Ramus?” 
“Right here.” 
This time, Emi pointed not at her head, but her right hand. 
“All right, so…what? You didn’t call us here to fight right now, did you?” 
The text that arrived as Maou closed down the store came from Emi. 
He didn’t recall giving her a working number. They were cyber-besties on exactly zero social networks. She must have harangued Chiho or someone for it. 
The text was simple enough. 
FRONT OF LIGHTHOUSE, 11 TONIGHT. BRING CUMIO. DONT LET AMANE SEE YOU. 
He didn’t reply—he was too busy snickering at her rendering of “Camio”—but Emi must have known they would show up. 
“That’d be kind of fun, but sadly, no. Tell ’em, Camio: Why’d I call the Devil King over here?” 
“…So be it. Peep.” 
Camio’s voice was clearer, more intelligible than before. The day he’d spent recovering must have done wonders. 
The three demons peered into the box. What kind of understanding did the Hero have with Maou’s Devil Regent? 
The ocean view from Cape Inuboh-saki was dark, murky, and foreboding. 
A cold wind, strangely cold for a summer night, played with the otherworldly demons’ hair. 
“Lord Satan… General of the Eastern Island… Lucifer. I fear that danger is rapidly apeep…approaching this land.” 
“Uh, dude, I got a title, too?” 
Camio ignored Urushihara’s whining. 
“When I heard that the Hero Emilia was here, a child serving as her holy sword… I thought I would faint on the cheep…spot. As we speak, there are forces—not the Devil King’s demons, nor of our realm at all, but another force—in a frenzied search for the Hero’s peep…sword.” 
“Not from my realm? The hell?” 
Maou curiously regarded the chicken in the box. 
“Peep. It was several fortnights ago. A human…a mere human…visited me in our capital, Satanas Arc. This figure claimed that anyone who pro-peep-cured the ‘holy sword’ would gain enough power to rule our realm, the heavens, and Ente Isla in one fell peep. This declaration, it pains me to say, stoked the bloodlust of many among our remaining forces, seeking revenge against Lord Satan’s victor.” 
Ashiya and Urushihara both let out a surprised gasp behind Maou. 
A human had visited the demon realms. There was not a single previous example of this in all the realm’s long history. 
When faced with the demonic power that coursed through the very air in that land, a regular human would find it difficult to so much as remain conscious. 
Chiho, when faced with Maou in his Satan form at close range, could barely breathe in the face of his almighty force. 
“The way Camio put it, after your invasion army collapsed, the surviving troops split into two factions. One wanted to stage another invasion to avenge your death; the other took a more moderate approach, calling on the masses to believe in their lord’s survival and preserve the nation’s strength. Camio ran himself ragged trying to make the two sides come to terms. But this human visitor made the delicate balance he built collapse to pieces.” 
It was a strange picture, Emi explaining current demon-realm events to Maou. She continued, paying little heed to his suspicious sneer. 
“This person said that there were two holy swords. And one of them…” 
Without even pausing to ensure there were no average Japanese citizens milling around nearby, Emi made her sword materialize out of thin air. 
The Better Half. 
“There aren’t that many humans who know that the Better Half is here in Japan with me.” 
The hint was enough to finally make Maou understand. 
Why did Sariel know from the start where Emi’s sword was? Where did he discover that nugget of information? 
She was right. There weren’t many on Ente Isla who knew the holy sword’s location. Not many humans. 
There were the Hero’s traveling companions, Emeralda and Albert. Suzuno, better known elsewhere as Crestia Bell, became friendly enough with Emi to discover the truth. There were the six Archbishops who met regularly at All Bishops’ Sanctuary to deliberate over Church affairs, the ones who learned of Emilia’s survival from Suzuno before she left. Beyond that… 
“The human arrived with the ‘revenge’ faction in tow before disappearing. He peep called himself Olba Meiyer.” 
“Wh-What the hell’s he thinking? What’s he even doing?! And, dude, like, when?!” 
The name shocked Urushihara the most, given how much thought the fallen angel had devoted to him in recent days. 
Olba was the only person in Japan who knew Emi was there. He engaged in hostilities with her, never making up for it afterward. He had an inkling this would happen, but the news was still hard for him to swallow. 
“So much for taking pity on him…” 
Ashiya, who once crossed swords with Olba in Japan, gritted his teeth as he clenched his fists in rage. 
“Regent Camio. Who was leading the ‘revenge’ faction that followed Olba?” 
“It was…Barbariccia, aide to Malacoda, General of the Southern Island. Cheep.” 
“I wish you’d stop talking like a Pokéture when we’re trying to be serious.” 
Maou scratched his head distractedly. 
“But if we’re gonna have this conversation, why out in the open like this? Why not back at Ohguro-ya? Amane’s gone by now.” 
“Didn’t you hear Camio? Amane might have killed everyone in his force.” 
“Yeah, I heard that, but…” 
“Well, maybe you forgot because she’s a total Type A personality, but she’s that landlord’s niece, remember? Maybe she’s not our enemy, but don’t forget—she’s not exactly a normal person, either.” 
Emi spared nothing in her harsh rebuke. 
But this wasn’t her usual antagonism writ large. There was something more chiding to it now. 
“But even if Amane has some mysterious power we don’t know about, something strong enough to defeat Camio and a squad of demons…we can’t just leave what’s coming up next to her.” 
“What’s coming up next? What do you mean?” 
Camio swiveled his head toward the dubious Ashiya. 
“The moderates among us wished to prevent our struggle from speep…spilling out to other realms. Thus, before the human-agitated ‘revenge’ faction could vent their fury in this world, we decided to stage a covert opeep…operation to secure Emilia’s holy sword. Olba Meiyer stated only that it was in a land known as Tokyo, in the kingdom known as Japan. Our intention as a result was to conjure a Gate that existed on the realm’s far eastern coast, then search westward with the peep…proverbial fine-toothed comb.” 
Which meant that Camio’s appearance over Choshi, the easternmost point in the Kanto region, was a pure coincidence? 
“Uh, but this isn’t Tokyo, you realize? This is Chiba.” 
“Yeah, but a lot of buildings and stuff in Chiba are still named ‘The Tokyo Something-something,’ you know?” 
“Shut up, Lucifer.” 
“It was not simpeep-le coincidence. We used an object Olba left behind, claiming it would provide clues to the sword’s position. This region reacted to it first.” 
“Clues to its position?” 
That topic seemed like it had come up just recently, somehow. 
Before Maou could scour his memory banks, Camio continued. 
“But, I am afraid, it is now just as you peep…see. We were unable to defend ourselves against the great force that dwells in this realm…” 
Camio’s beady eyes drifted toward a corner of the box. His way of expressing shame, perhaps. Emi picked up his line of discussion. 
“He’s saying that the ‘revenge’ faction’s already headed to Japan… To Earth!” 
“What?!” 
“What did you say?” 
“Why didn’t you say that first?!” 
“Eeep!” 
All three demons verbally expressed their surprise, Maou accentuating his shock by absentmindedly dropping the box. 
“The…the Gate will open in the middle of the night, based on its size and our preepvious intelligence. We believe they will also rely upon their numbers to comb this land from its easternmost point forward.” 
The chicken strutting his way out of the box tucked his feet underneath his wings and sat upon the ground. 
“To be frank with you, that woman’s peep-power was simply inconceivable. I fear there is every chance a similar fate will befall the advancing force…” 
And to be even franker, Camio was more or less condemning this third-party force to death, seeing no hope for them against the power of a bumbling beach-toggery owner. 
Maou, relying on hearsay for the moment, had trouble picturing Amane as a presence strong enough to vaporize entire armies. But Camio was serious, more so than his naturally frowning beak signaled. 
“We may have peep…parted company, but Barbariccia was a comrade in our struggle to unify the demonic realms. I do not have the heart to wage hostilities against him…and I cannot sit idly by and watch as his enraged but nonetheless decent and sensible fighters die a fool’s death against that woman’s might.” 
“And I really don’t care about what happens to you guys…” 
Emi retained her strict I’m-different-from-you approach with the demons surrounding her. 
“But if Olba’s really involved here, I can’t ignore that. It doesn’t matter to me whether Amane’s this superwoman or whatever. Friend or foe, I don’t care.” 
She turned her glare toward Maou. 
“If Japan’s attacked by this army of demons after my holy sword, then it’s our job to drive them off. Mine, and yours. We’re the ones who brought the fight here. We can’t just palm this off on Amane.” 
A powerful light beam swept the skies above Emi as she stood tall. 
“I’d, uh…kind of prefer it if Amane’s a friend, but… Either way, she and my landlord are still good people. If they weren’t around, we’d be panhandling right now.” 
Maou flashed a lonely smile. 
“Emi.” 
“What.” 
“…You really believed it, huh?” 
“Sorry?” 
The question made Emi’s face burst into alarm mode. The tone of Maou’s voice suggested that he’d planted a story for Camio to tell her the whole time. 
“You probably think this is a trap, don’t you? All set up by this demon who risked his life trying to rescue me.” 
“…Oh. That?” 
Emi’s voice betrayed her blank disappointment. 
“Even if you and that chicken trapped me, you think I’d do something about that?” Now she was brimming with confidence, although it still seemed like an act. 
She tried to stand straight up, staring down at the demons, but then relaxed herself, thinking better of it…or, maybe, finding the act too idiotic to continue. 
“Would you mind not treating me like some stupid woman?” 
“Uh?” 
Emi winced and brought a hand to her forehead. 
“When Camio was talking to me, you know I had Chiho and Alas Ramus in there, too, right?” 
“Y…yeah…? So what?” 
He thought he knew. Or, maybe, he didn’t know at all. So he decided to keep staring instead. Emi turned her back, as if trying to flee him. 
“So, look, you’re an evil demon, the king of all devils, a poor, dirty bum, my father’s killer, the enemy of all mankind, worth nothing more than a piece of space debris to anyone. Anyone! But you know what?” 
The anger seemed to come from the heart as her nose and eyelids twitched in supreme annoyance. 
“At least to the point that I know you won’t tell a lie that stabs Chiho or Alas Ramus in the back… I trust in all of you demons! So…” 
She shot a look at the three, each blinking helplessly at her, overwhelmed. 
“I want you to step up and take responsibility for this! With me!” 
The shout echoed across the cape. 
“…Are you on board, or not?! If you are, forget everything I just said! You piles of space junk!” 
She was screaming, to the point where she seemed ready to hurl her sword—and Alas Ramus—at them. 
A gust of wind blew through, perhaps hurried along by Emi’s miniature sonic boom, and created an awkward silence. 
“Uh, I really don’t feel like you trust me at all, and I’m not really sure ‘space junk’ works as an insult…” 
Maou looked at the night sky, a wide beam of light spinning its way through it, and nodded. 
“But thanks. I’m glad you do.” 
Maybe it was just his imagination, but it seemed like Emi’s face loosened just a touch to him. 
And after that momentary, almost illusory softening, there was a wail akin to the howl of a cackling hellspawn. 
“I said, forget about it!!” 
Emi swung the Better Half, creating an arc of light that mimicked the lighthouse’s leisurely sweep. 
“Hey, uh, hey, Alas Ramus work hard, too, okay?” 
She almost seemed like a celestial being, standing there like a war maiden, but the bouncy voice from her sword didn’t quite match. 
It wasn’t bad, though. 
“…Quite a peep—an enigmatic relationship, this.” 
“You said it. But what’ll we do now? ’Cause if we’re really going face-to-face with an entire demon squadron, I really don’t like my chances.” 
“Yes, well, peep, I have a plan. The jeweled sword I peeped along with me…” 
The chirping was starting to grate on everyone, but still they all leaned over, lending an open ear to Camio’s idea. 
Then it happened. At a faraway point over the sea, the light from the tower flickered for a moment. 
A rift in the darkness caught it. 
“…They’re hee-eeere.” 
Urushihara, surprisingly, noticed first. 
Although neither Maou, nor Emi, nor Ashiya picked up on it at the time, he was also the first one to spot the Gate that spat Gabriel out into this world. 
The group turned toward the direction he was facing. The sight they saw made them doubt their eyes. 
In the darkness of the night, there was now a long, horizontal rift in space, extending across the sky. 
“Uh, whoa whoa whoa, this is more than just a squadron, guys.” 
Like a mammoth flock of bats fanning out across the dark, or a group of migratory birds soaring toward some far-off destination, a massive number of shades emerged from the rift. 
“Farlight Dazzle.” 
Urushihara mumbled the words, then focused his eyes on the shadows, still a faint line of mist in the faraway air. 
“Camio was right. I don’t see Barbariccia, but they’re from the Malebranche tribe. Malacoda’s servants.” 
“You can see that from here?” 
Urushihara rolled his eyes at Emi, squinting as she surveyed the sea. 
“Dude, that’s like Holy Magic 101. I’m half angel, and I’ve been eating Bell’s food pretty much daily lately. Her consecrated food. Any more questions?” 
That went at least halfway toward understanding why Urushihara’s wings were white when he dispelled the fog a day ago. 
But that wasn’t the question to ask right now. Ashiya provided the cue. 
“…If they’re in Japan, why are they still in demon form?” 
“I dunno. Maybe they brought a source with ’em, maybe it’s ’cause they left the Gate wide open; something like that?” 
Either way, they couldn’t tell from here. 
The more pressing issue was that, right before Maou’s eyes, a huge army of demon warriors was pressing down upon Japan. In their original demon forms, and likely with their original demon strengths. 
The Malebranche tribe led by the Great Demon General Malacoda was gifted in what the human race would call necromancy. 
In the human world, the art of reviving corpses and spirits to do one’s bidding was seen as a taboo, a forbidden and arcane form of magic. But, practically speaking, it was nothing more than charging a corpse with a little demonic power. The necromancer had to fully control every part of this puppet, or else it was of no use at all in battle. 
Among the Great Demon Generals working under Satan’s rule, Malacoda—leader of the Malebranche, a tribe gifted in the ways of psychological warfare—was the last to pursue a military career. 
His tribe were of similar height as the average human, but their batlike wings, and the worryingly long claws that grew from each limb, made them unique among the demons. 
“Uhh, I just did a quick head count, but…I think we’re lookin’ at a thousand or so.” 
It was almost too many for their needs. And the fact they were visible from Cape Inuboh-saki meant the fishing boats might have already picked up on them. 
“The people on the boats out there might be in danger! I’m going on ahead!” 
Emi removed an energy-shot bottle from her pocket and hurriedly glugged it down. 
Wiping her lips with the back of a hand, Emi focused on her legs as her entire body began to shine in a light-infused aura. 
“Here we go, Alas Ramus!” 
“’Kay!” 
“Heavenly Fleet Feet!” 
Before Maou could stop her, Emi flew toward the sea like a shooting star. 
The Malebranche must have noticed Emi’s vast holy magic. The shadows in the night sky began to waver to and fro, joining in formation. 
“Um… Okay, uh, Camio? I’m still waiting for some hot ideas from you? Something about a jeweled sword?” 
Maou and Ashiya had only a bare minimum of demonic force left. And even though Urushihara had the basics of holy magic at his disposal, it was nowhere near enough to take on a mob of maniacal gargoyles. 
At this rate, they had little option but to watch Emi clash against the Malebranche. It wasn’t the most appealing spectator sport they could think of. Presumably they’d die at the end, for one. 
“Peep! How could it have peeped my mind?! Yes, Lord Satan. The sword I brought with me… If you take it by hand and unsheathe it from its scabbard………peep?” 
Camio suddenly noticed that all three demons were looking at him in abject horror. 
“Oh, dude, dude.” 
“My Devil Regent! Such a fundamental error in judgment!” 
“L-Lucifer? Er, General of the Eastern Island? Peep, why are you…?” 
“If we needed that thing, frickin’ say so before we left, you dumbass!!” 
Maou grabbed at Camio. 
“Ah! Peep!” 
“Don’t ‘ah’ me! You knew we were gonna need it the whole time! You want me to sprint all the way over to Ohguro-ya from here to fetch it?! Emi’s gonna be done by then!” 
“Peep-peep-peep… Lord Satan…I cannot…peep.” 
“Ugh, we don’t even have the time to make yakitori outta you. Yo, Ashiya. You mind running over for me?” 
“Y-Yes, my liege!” 
Ashiya lowered his body and began to run. 
“…Ah!” 
Then, after five or so strides, tripped. 
Watching a nearly six-foot-tall man try out for the next installment of Japan’s Funniest Viral Videos caused little more than annoyance to his friends. 
“I… These beach sandals… I am not used to them…” 
Ashiya understood that much, it seemed, as he brushed himself off underneath the demons’ withering stare. Before long, he was off again. 
“You all looking for this?” 
Then, seeing something dangling in front of him, applied the brakes. 
“I thought this was a bit too fancy a sword for our little birdie here. But it’s kinda more a tool than a weapon, right? A major one.” 
There was the refined, makeup-free face, the flat T-shirt and apron…and the jeweled sword that never lost its luster, even when Camio had lost his form and his armor had shattered to pieces. 
“Um…Amane? Ma’am?” 
“‘Ma’am’? Lord, I hope I don’t look that old yet!” 
Amane Ohguro, the more-or-less proprietor of Ohguro-ya, waved and flashed her usual freewheeling smile. 
“You know, I was wondering, too, why there was just a little bit of demon force left after I whisked it all away. Well, no wonder! Look at this sword. Take it by its gem-encrusted hilt, unsheathe it from its scabbard…” 
Amane unwrapped Camio’s cape and slowly removed the sword from its holder. 
The blade that appeared was dark red, the color of blood. 
“Et voila! Look at the demon sword we have here! …Oof. Just removing it a little bit gives me the willies. What’re you gonna use this for, anyway?” 
Amane slid the sword back inside its sheath and turned her eyes to Maou. 
“Oh, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go all ‘Gee whiz, ma’am, what’re you doing here?’ on me. No need for all that trite nonsense. What I need to know right now is, what are you planning to do with this sword, question mark.” 
The question was light and airy, like Amane was asking what food needed to be prepped for tomorrow. 
Neither Ashiya when he first saw the sword thrust in front of him, nor Urushihara nor Camio nor Maou behind him, bothered to hide their bewilderment. For a moment, everyone hesitated to answer. 
Time passed—enough that Emi was just about ready to engage in active warfare with the Malebranche. 
“Sadao Maou! Get a grip on yourself!” 
Amane scolded the indecisive Maou. 
“You let those girls run roughshod over you without saying anything back! And you call yourself a man? What a bum!” 
She followed this up by tossing the eerie sword, scabbard and all, at Maou. 
“Wah…! Ah, I, um—” 
“Bzzt! Wrong answer, you dope! I know we’ve only known each other two days, but I think I already know what type of guy you are. So go and show me what you’re made of already! Show me how you guys take responsibility around here. Go on, take the sword out! And you call yourself…” 
All but coerced by Amane’s griping, Maou placed a hand on the hilt and removed the sword. 
The moment he did, a single pillar of black light shot up to the heavens, dark enough to dispel the lighthouse’s lumbering signal from the edge of Cape Inuboh-saki. 
“…the Devil King of a faraway world, do you?!” 
Buooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnn… 
Buooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnn… 
Buoooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn… 
A low scream rang across the Choshi sea, as if keening in horror at the dark beam. 
“Are you well, Chiho? How do you feel?” 
“Oh, good… Just fine this time, actually.” 
Chiho and Suzuno stepped out of their inn, into a now-deserted Cape Inuboh-saki. They surveyed the fog that all but cut off their vision. 
“…I detect traces of demonic force… But, why…?” 
The answer materialized in the mist. 
“Well, because whether they’re indoors or not, releasing that much demonic power at once would make everyone within earshot of Inuboh go unconscious, is why. I just happened to take a few precautions.” 
“!!” 
Suzuno tensed herself, carefully keeping Chiho behind her. 
“Oh, there’s no need to be so jumpy. We all ate yakisoba from the same griddle, y’know.” 
It was Amane Ohguro, still in her rough T-shirt. 
“I’m not your enemy, I can say that much. They promised me they’d take responsibility for this, so I’m just kinda watching from the side. But don’t worry—if they miss any of ’em or start tossing guys out of the ring, so to speak, I’ll lend a hand.” 
Telling someone not to worry following that explanation was asking an awful lot. 
According to Emi, a huge brigade of the Devil King’s remaining warriors was staging an all-out assault on Choshi. 
Could Amane just flick away any of the marauding demons Emi overlooked? It seemed impossible for Suzuno to believe that Amane was anything other than the laid-back beach girl she knew. 
“Y’know, human, you really shouldn’t underestimate me.” 
But, as if reading her mind, Amane flashed a supremely confident smile and slapped a hand on her hip. 
“!!” 
“Agh?!” 
Unconsciously, Suzuno and Chiho covered their eyes. 
The fog swirled into a tornado, centering itself in the area around Amane. 
Her T-shirt and apron; her jeans and sandals; the simple rubber band holding her hair back… 
The sort of shopkeeper you’d see in a million places around Japan was now the master of a mist-laden world, surveying her domain across the seas below Cape Inuboh-saki. The power she brandished was neither demonic nor holy, but something wholly unfamiliar…and wholly overwhelming. 
“They don’t call me Ohguro for nothing. The characters for ‘great’ and ‘black,’ you know? If you doubt me, I could always take all these interlopers into our world and blow them to the edge of the universe in the blink of an eye. How’s that sound?” 
Like it was all scripted for the stage, the beam from the lighthouse stopped dead just as it illuminated Amane’s back. 
Chiho and Suzuno shut their eyes. The light from the first-order Fresnel lens was too much for them to bear. 
But for just a single fleeting moment, they thought they saw another ring of light behind her, one separate and distinct from the white glare that framed her body. 
“Well. Anyway. Just take a load off and wait, okay? Besides…” 
The afterimage disappeared as quickly as it came, and by the time Chiho and Suzuno recovered their eyesight, all that remained was a personable beach-house proprietor. 
“Once Maou and the rest get back, I might just have something I can talk to you about.” 
“Amane…” 
“Now, I’ve got something Maou and that little birdie asked me to do. See you later!” 
With that, she gave them a friendly wave and disappeared into the mist. 
Ahead of her was the Inuboh-saki Lighthouse. 
With another roar from the dragon, Chiho and Suzuno saw her gazing sharply into the sea of fog. 
 
“Mommy! Knife!” 
Thanks to her Idea Link with Alas Ramus, Emi deflected an attack on her left with her Cloth of the Dispeller shield without having to look. 
“Fork!” 
The wave of surging claws from the right was quickly deflected with her Better Half. 
A Malebranche warrior, by himself, was not the most formidable of fighters. 
But Malacoda, their leader, and his necromancy could conjure up some tricky moves, and— 
“!!” 
For example, the warrior who just appeared in front of her detached into several pieces the moment it came into sight. 
It was a simple illusory feint, but Emi, fighting a very literal 1-vs.-1,000 battle by herself, had no time to guess whether the sight was real or not. 
The moment she raised her shield to block the onrush of body parts: 
“Fork!” 
Alas Ramus’s warning rang out. 
She didn’t notice the looming ball of demonic energy in time to dodge it. “Heavenly Mirror Beam!” 
She reacted instinctively to the threat. 
“Grahh!” 
But, thanks to having her concentration distracted by the two separate attackers, she was caught in her own beam of light. 
Staggering in midair, Emi found a dozen or so Malebranche closing in on her. 
“Whoa, what’re you… Let go! Ugh… Yah! Don’t touch me there!” 
If another demonic energy ball struck while she was restrained in midair, there would be no way to block it. Emi gritted her teeth. 
“Shock wave of Light!!” 
The holy magic triggered from the pit of her stomach. It was a powerful, power-exhausting move, one where holy magic gushed forth from her body and tossed the Malebranche away like rag dolls. But as they flew off in all directions, one of their claws grazed Emi’s forehead. 
A line of blood ran down—and in an even worse turn of events, seeped into her right eye, blocking her vision. 
“Mommy, you okay?!” 
There was no time to answer Alas Ramus’s cry. It’d be harder than ever to fight now. 
“Ugh! This is enough of a pain in the ass as it is!” 
That was because this horde was using a battle strategy Emi had never encountered before. 
“Knife!” 
To dispatch the Malebranche approaching from the left, Emi used: 
“Air Rush!” 
Neither holy magic nor her sword, but a martial-arts move. 
Her holy magic–infused fist smashed into the Malebranche’s claw, crushing it to fine particles. The beast wailed and retreated back. 
“Thanks for that one, Albert!” 
Clenching her left fist once more, Emi rained strikes down upon the Malebranche attempting a frontal body tackle. 
“Air Strike Assault!!” 
The wind struck by Emi’s fist formed projectiles that flew toward her attacker. 
Some hit it in the stomach, others on the top of his head. It flitted away, not fully in control of its faculties. 
The Malebranche who dodged the wind bullets fired energy balls of their own in retaliation. Emi vaporized them all with a sword slash, then: 
“Hrah!” 
She launched a frontal kick on the chin of the lead Malebranche, leaving the ones behind him wide open for a flurry of Air Rush strikes. 
“This is…harder than I thought…it’d be…!” 
Emi had only known how to fight with weapons before Albert taught her martial arts. 
Before Ente Isla’s Northern Island was conquered by Adramelech, commander of the Devil King’s forces in the region, it was home to the famous Mountain Corps, a team of elite soldiers whose varied martial and holy magic skills were passed down from generation to generation. 
By the time Emi met Albert, his Corps was scattered to the winds, himself dividing his time between training and woodcutting. But as a talented fighting monk, he was well-versed in all types of techniques, including sword combat. 
“The Northern Island’s packed with all kinds of tribes and warlords and the like, y’see? So when we fight, we fight like this. That way, we keep it civil. Keep it from getting worse. That’s how it’s always been.” 
But that didn’t seem to apply to Emi’s quest. She thought it only worked against human opponents, the idea of fighting without killing. 
<“Stay back!”> 
Just then, a shadowy voice boomed across the Malebranche army. 
In a flash, the incessant attack stopped. 
<“Human girl… You are no ordinary fighter.”> 
It was a Malebranche, one larger than the rest of the horde. 
The leader of this rabble, no doubt. He wore an eyepatch, a rare show of vanity for a demon, and the single long fang arcing from one side of his mouth made him even more conspicuous. 
“Thanks for the compliment. I don’t want to waste energy on an Idea Link, so I’ll stick to human language.” 
<“Twelve hundred of our Malebranche braves…and we have never sustained a single death… No regular human could fight this way. Could you be…?”> 
As he spoke, the Malebranche leader raised his right hand. 
In it was a cheap-looking trinket, like a little girl’s pendant, made of colorful glass. 
The glass suddenly shone a dull purple, then emitted a beam of light straight for Emi. 
“Purple light… Is that…!” 
“Mommy! Yeffod! Behind the shiny thing! Yeffod!!” 
The voice of Alas Ramus, fused into her sword, told Emi that it was no mistake. Then the Malebranche leader, in customary demon fashion, laughed a hearty, evil laugh. 
<“Krah-hah-hah-hah! I never expected to find you so quickly. So you are the bearer of the holy sword, the Hero Emilia Justina?!”> 
The leader’s eyes twinkled, the demonic energy bubbling across his entire body. 
<“If you bear the strength to overcome the Devil King Satan and four of his generals, then I must devote my entire soul to this battle! And when I defeat you, the holy sword shall be mine!”> 
“…No point hiding it.” 
Emi, quite the actor herself, beamed confidently as she thrust her Better Half into the air. “Release yourself, my force, and rid the world of evil!!” 
The shout itself was enough to blow the Malebranche away. 
The hordes feebly struggled to flee, their eyes too weak to take in the golden aura that enveloped her. 
“I want the whole force to retreat, or else somebody’s getting hurt.” 
Her hair was a blue-tinged silver, her eyes scarlet red. Her Cloth of the Dispeller was now fully formed, instantly healing her wounds. 
“For the first time since I came to Japan, my holy blade has reached its second level…and it slices through a lot more than bread, you know.” 
The Better Half had evolved. Grown…better. 
Once a thin, single-handed rapier, the holy sword was now wider, its hilt extended, the wings and Yesod-fragment jewel on it glowing brighter than before. 
<“It is true! The scourge of the Devil King’s force! The Hero of the Holy Sword! Emilia!!”> 
The Malebranche leader loomed face-to-face with Emilia, not betraying a single trace of fear. 
<“I am Ciriatto! The Malebranche has but one chief! For the sake of our departed Malacoda’s will, for the sake of the future of our New Devil King’s Army, I alone shall wrest the holy sword from your hands! All of you, stay back!”> 
As Ciriatto ordered his troops to retreat and stated his name in classic warrior style, Emi brought her Better Half to her face and offered a knight’s salute. 
“Honestly, I’m discovering way too much about demons lately… But I cannot grant you mercy!” 
For a single moment, holy power clashed against demon power above the Pacific Ocean. The Better Half crossed paths with Ciriatto’s black, rigid claw. 
<“Gnnh!”> 
The sword cleanly severed his right claw, sending it to the ocean below. 
“Still up for more?” 
<“Kuh…”> 
A single exchange was all it took for Ciriatto to groan in frustration. 
He was completely unable to follow the path of Emi’s sword with his eyes. 
No one would expect a Malebranche chieftain to beat a foe that archangels couldn’t defeat, but despite facing these overwhelming odds, the warrior refused to budge. 
The holy sword had to be his. It must reach the hands of the New Devil King’s Army, so it may reunite the demon realms and succeed in Ente Isla where the Devil King Satan so regrettably faltered. 
“…You’re really not leaving, huh?” 
<“I am Ciriatto, sole leader of the Malebranche! No demon who would turn away in fear of defeat deserves the title of New Devil King’s Army commander! Orrrhhhh!!”> 
“Whoa! Wait a sec!” 
Emilia found herself asking Ciriatto for a time-out. 
The demon used his remaining claw to neatly shear off the damaged stump on his other arm. 
<“I have no need for such broken, useless weaponry! It will always grow back again!”> 
“Oh, is that how it works?” 
She regretted being impressed by the act. 
“But that doesn’t mean there’s no pain, right? It looks like you’re bleeding. You sure you still want to do this? After losing one of your best weapons?” 
<“Until my blood dries up and my body is torn asunder!”> 
A very old-fashioned approach to warfare. 
Emilia saw zero value to the idea that a fighter only proves his worth once he falls in battle. But if that was how Ciriatto felt, it was Emilia’s job to give the demon the last thing he ever wanted. 
“You better not expect me to just up and kill you.” 
Emilia readied her sword. 
“Huh? Really, Mommy?” 
Alas Ramus noticed Emilia’s change in tactics. 
She was deliberately weakening her sword’s holy energy. It was reverting to its first level, even after so spectacularly reaching its second. In fact, it was almost at the level of a plain, non-magical, decent-enough sword—just barely enough to keep it materialized. 
“It’s easier to keep this on an even footing…” 
She closed her eyes for a moment. The faces of the demons materialized in her mind. 
“…if I don’t want you dead!” 
<“Have at it!”> 
Ciriatto himself lowered the evil force in his left arm down to minimal levels, accepting Emilia’s invitation. Here there would be no fancy magic, just pure battle technique. 
The Hero and the Malebranche leader stared hard into each other’s eyes. The area above the sea grew tense. 
One concern remained with Emilia: She might be able to defeat Ciriatto without striking the lethal blow. But until that moment arrived, she had no idea whether the other Malebranche would accept it. 
There was every chance their leader’s death would whip them into a frenzy. 
If that happened, the overwhelmingly powerful Emilia would be forced to commit a de facto massacre. 
“…I’ve really lost my edge, haven’t I?” 
Emilia took a deep breath to put her feelings in order. Her foe was the Malebranche chieftain, the equal of Malacoda…or perhaps more. One mistake could spell her doom. She would have to consider that moment when it came. 
No battle horn sounded at the start of this fight, a fight climactic enough that it would likely demolish an entire town if conducted on Ente Isla. Instead, the combatants stared each other down, snarling…only to suddenly lift their heads upward. 
Buooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnn… 
Buooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnn… 
Buoooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn… 
The roar of an ancient dragon ruled the skies. 
If that was all it was, Emilia and Ciriatto would have immediately clashed afterward. 
But the roar summoned the ruler of the white mist that loomed above the water. Emilia turned around. There was nothing but pure white around herself and the Malebranche. 
<“?!”> 
Inside this world of white, a single point of darkness—a large, black something—approached. 
Its presence alone made the fog split apart, forming a path like harried attendants laying a red carpet for their king. 
“‘Ciriatto’? I remember that name. One of the Malebranche chieftains beneath Malacoda, I trust.” 
The enormous shadow appeared behind Emilia’s back. 
“But what is the meaning of this? I have heard nothing of this so-called New Devil King’s Army. Who would ever dare to call himself Devil King and rebuild the royal force…without me?” 
<“Who…are…?!”> 
The demon’s questioning voice cracked apart, his neck choked by some unseen hand before he could complete the cry. 
“You have my full permission. Close his mouth… Crush the throat of this insolent Malebranche pretender to the throne.” 
Another sheer black form, making itself known next to the first, enormous shade, pointed an arm at Ciriatto. 
The man—gnarled, forked tail; screeching, grating voice; skin devoid of blood—was racked with anger. 
Before these two sudden threats, the Malebranche army tried its best to fall back. They did not go far. 
“You promised a fight, and now you’re running without so much as an apology? Pathetic. Too pathetic.” 
Another new voice. A young one, his voice like a frigid blade of ice. The Malebranche near the Gate turned to face it. 
He was a small figure, no different from any human. 
But behind him, his wings, darker than any clouded night or inky blackness, kept the Malebranche away from their escape hatch. 
“Ugh… If you’re gonna show up, do it earlier than this. I feel like an idiot getting so worked up now.” 
The force of light addressed the force of twisted darkness, as if discussing what to have for breakfast. 
“Ha-ha! Sorry. I’m a little out of practice.” 
The gigantic shade toward the rear slowly sidled up next to Emilia. 
<“What…ngh…are you…”> 
Ciriatto finally gurgled out the question. As if in reply, a deep, booming voice echoed across the misty realm. 
“Silence! Malebranche warriors! Who do you think you behold?!” 
“Pfft!” 
Emilia snickered at the line. It reminded her of too many of her samurai dramas. 
But it was still enough to make the helplessly struggling Ciriatto freeze in place. 
Before his eyes, a dark avian warrior soared up into the void with a light flapping of his wings. 
<“Ah…D-Devil Regent…Camio…”> 
Ciriatto stared agape at Camio’s form. 
“You! Dare you bare thy fangs at thy master, deluded by the sweet temptations of humankind?” 
<“‘M-Master’…?”> 
In his torment, Ciriatto turned his anguished eyes to the enormous shadow Camio pointed at. 
He wore an avian warrior’s cloak, his massive torso accentuated by his jeweled sword, shining a vibrant dark red. His feet were hoofed. One horn was shattered. And his eyes could strike fear into the hearts of all that live and ever lived. 
<“Ah…no… No…?!”> 
“Malebranche warriors! Bow before your master: Satan, the Devil King!” 
The raspy-voiced man’s flair for drama made Emi snort to herself again. “Uh, are you guys doing that on purpose?” 
<“T-The Devil King?!”> 
<“His Demonic Highness?!”> 
Twelve hundred Malebranche vanguard fighters found themselves awash in a wave of wonder and confusion, the phrase “Devil King” traveling like wildfire across their lips. 
“Oh, great, they’re playing the scared-peasants role perfectly, too, huh?” 
<“Is that the leader of the Eastern Island invasion force… The Great Demon General Alciel?”> 
<“Wh-Why is the Devil Regent here…? Was Lord Satan not felled in battle?”> 
Shock continued to reign among the Malebranche, as: 
“Uh, dude, hello? I’m here? You’re ignoring me? Oh, you’re totally ignoring me!” 
Lucifer’s temper tantrum as he blocked the demon army’s escape made the Malebranche in the rear guard turn around. After a beat, they noticed him. 
<“The fallen general…”> 
<“Lord Lucifer, the Fallen General?!”> 
“I really don’t remember letting anyone call me that, but… Is that the kind of respect Malacoda’s troops gave me? Huh?!” 
Pushed back by Lucifer’s anger, several Malebranche attempted to flee into the rest of the horde. 
“Alciel, let ’im go.” 
A relaxed word or two from Satan was all it took for Alciel to pull back his outstretched arm. 
Ciriatto, released from his choke hold, panted for breath. 
It was so sudden that he floated in the air, bolt upright, trying to regain his bearings. 
His eyes turned left and right. The Hero Emilia. The Devil Regent Camio. Two Great Demon Generals, Alciel and Lucifer. 
And last, but not least: 
<“F-Forgive me for my foolishness, my Devil King!!”> 
Slowly, he fell to his knees at Satan’s feet. 
The rest of the Malebranche humbly followed. 
“Ciriatto. Chief of the Malebranche.” 
The voice of the demonic monolith rumbled. 
<“Y-Yes!”> 
“I do not recall permitting anyone besides Camio to lead my people. What have you been doing in my absence?” 
<“That… I…!”> 
Ciriatto hung his head downward. Satan’s response was surprisingly gentle. 
“Come. Raise your head. If you have something to say for yourself, let me hear it.” 
<“I, I thank you, my liege… We, the Malebranche, under the leadership of Barbariccia, were not merely lured here by a human’s honey-tinged words! We fight for the sake of peace in the demon realms, so that we may obtain the holy sword before those that threaten our homeland—”> 
“Peace in the demon realms?” 
Ciriatto spotted Emilia at the edge of his vision, Better Half at the ready. 
<“Our leader, Barbariccia, merely pretended to agree to the human’s plan. He wished to bring the sword under full control of our—”> 
“How shallow of you!” 
Another rage-laden voice interrupted Ciriatto. 
<“L-Lord Alciel?!”> 
“You were lured here by a single human being—Olba Meiyer, companion to the Hero. If the Malebranche chieftains conferred with one another, they could have easily extracted the necessary information from the human, killed him, and afforded yourself ample time to act. But why did that not happen? Why did you not seek Camio’s royal assent?!” 
<“B-Because…”> 
“Don’t bully him, Alciel.” 
Out of the blue, Ciriatto found an unlikely ally in the Devil King himself. 
“They aren’t stupid enough not to consider that. That’s what Barbariccia probably wanted to do in the first place. But Olba wasn’t that easily taken, and he wasn’t alone in this. Is that what it was?” 
<“…I have no way of expressing my sorrow!”> 
Ciriatto turned his anguished face toward Satan. 
“Ciriatto.” 
<“Ngh…”> 
Then he turned it toward Emilia. 
“That purple stone you had… Can I see it?” 
<“The purple stone…? This?”> 
The keyword made Satan and his generals twitch slightly as well. 
The item in Ciriatto’s hand was a pendant—decorated with a colorless, translucent jewel, not a purple one. 
Despite what Emilia assumed at first, the pendant itself was no Yesod fragment. The jewel was just a jewel. But something to its shine jogged her memory. 
“A Link Crystal…” 
An object that allowed anyone to converse via Idea Link from any distance. In a vague sort of way, the cell phones of Ente Isla. 
“That purple light earlier… Was that from someone on the other side of the Crystal?” 
Not long ago, Emilia stormed the Devil’s Castle on Isla Centurum with her companions, seeking to slay the Devil King who now floated in front of her. She had no way of knowing it at the time, but her holy sword reacted with the seed of Alas Ramus planted near the throne room, providing a “guiding light” to her nemesis. 
Emilia thought the glow to her sword was meant to lead her to Satan, but the light was simply the twin Yesod fragments pulling at each other. 
<“All I know is that the sword lies in the direction the light points… Even if this jewel is connected to someplace, I have no idea where.”> 
“…Would you swear it? On my name?” 
Satan’s face was doubtful as he asked. But Ciriatto stood firm. 
<“By the name of my ruler, Lord Satan, I am telling the truth.”> 
Ciriatto turned his pained face away; Satan, looking down at him, looked far more serene. 
“Good. …By the way, the Gate you flew out of… Where is it connected to? Is it a two-way portal?” 
<“The…Gate?”> 
“No, uh, I’d kinda like to kick you guys back to the other side, but I’d feel kind of crappy about it if you came back empty-handed and got punished for it, so…” 
<“My liege, I…er…”> 
Ciriatto’s eyes twinkled in disbelief at his king’s sudden mood shift. 
“Chill out, guys.” Lucifer smiled in the most insincere way possible. “The Devil King’s not out to give you all thirty lashes or anything. Those of you who tried taking on the Hero… Uh, think of it as one of those life lessons, you know? And get well soon!” 
Ciriatto nodded lifelessly. 
“If you want to return to the demon realm…or if that was your intention…we will not stop you. Camio, I order you not to persecute the ‘revenge’ faction of my armies when they return. My realm is in your hands.” 
“Yes, my liege.” 
Camio fell to a deferential knee. 
“Right. Ciriatto. I’m gonna take all you guys back where you need to be. It’ll kinda be a bumpy ride, but deal with it, okay? Camio’ll follow after you.” 
<“Bumpy…?”> 
“And once you’re back home, give everyone a message for me. Tell them that the Devil King Satan is very much alive.” 
“Hey! What are you… Aiigh!” 
Emilia feared Satan was using Ciriatto to drum up morale in the demon realms. But before she could speak up, she shrieked as Satan restrained her by the shoulders. 
Feeling Satan’s solid hands through her Cloth of the Dispeller, she froze, goose bumps erupting across her body. 
Ignoring this, Satan issued an order as deafening as the crashing waves beneath him. 
“And tell them also that one of the holy swords is already in my grasp! Tell my people that Satan is in another world, amassing his powers to bring peace back to the demon realms. Use that to quell their disquiet. Ciriatto, I hereby appoint you as Camio’s assistant. Until I return, you must lead my people, and unite my realm!” 
The command of Devil King Satan, supreme leader of every demon that breathes (whether oxygen, fire, or poison gas), echoed across the foggy Pacific. 
At that moment, Ciriatto was joined on his knees by his Malebranche tribe, along with Alciel, Camio, even Lucifer. It was a moment of homage, of united respect. 
Satan surveyed the scene before him and nodded, satisfied. 
“Very good. Anyway, all passengers, prepare for departure!” 
<“Huhh? Brnngh!!”> 
Confusion ruled among the mist. 
Ciriatto, still kneeling in front of Satan, was suddenly enveloped by a cocoon-like fog. He was illuminated by a sweeping beam of light, then vanished with a pained scream. 
The sight made the Malebranche erupt in confused horror. 
“All right, it’s crowded out in the back, so everybody form a line, all right? Don’t worry… Apparently it doesn’t hurt, so…” 
Using the skills he learned manning the shaved-ice machine, Lucifer calmed the crowd as he assembled the Malebranche into two neat lines. As if waiting for this moment, the light swept through again. 
Each of the Malebranche, wrapped in a cigar-like casing of mist, screamed their best Ciriatto-like scream before vanishing, one after another. 
“Y’know, I can’t help but notice some hesitation here. Maybe they’re screaming ’cause they hit the ground at light speed on the other side? I dunno.” 
Satan’s anxious observation dissipated into the now Malebranche-free empty space. 
“Well, Ciriatto’s still a Malebranche chieftain. He’s not gonna die that easy.” 
“Yeah, but at light speed? I dunno if I’d survive that.” 
“Let the sinners pay for their foolish sins. We need to close that enormous Gate now.” 
Alciel, usually silent in demon form unless it was necessary to speak, flew toward the Gate the Malebranche had come through. 

Camio followed behind, Lucifer hurriedly attempting to catch up. And behind him: 
“…Get your hand off my shoulder! I’ll kill you!!” 
An explosion of outraged holy energy chased after Lucifer. 
Behind her, Satan fluttered along, eyes teared up as the bridge of his nose blushed a deep red. 
“Look at how big this Gate is. Who could have…?” 
As they approached, Emilia found herself shivering at the sheer scope of the portal. 
Over a thousand Malebranche fighters, their chief included, had passed through this Gate. Yet it still maintained its form. It was unheard of. 
Since the Malebranche appeared from this Gate, there was no way to go through it from the Earth end. But if there was, it looked strong enough to easily accommodate Satan and Emilia at full force. 
An almost-unthinkable quantity of demonic force flowed from the void, offering a suggestion as to how the Malebranche had retained their forms. 
“It’s definitely a demon-power Gate, but…even if Barbariccia was a gifted underling of Malacoda’s, he’s still a rank-and-file Malebranche. Could he have opened a Gate so large?” 
“Didn’t have to be just him. Olba’s with him, yeah? I guess he’s pretty good at this stuff too, so maybe it was a team job…” 
“Ridiculous, Lucifer. This Gate has retained its arcing shape even after allowing all those Malebranche through. This could never be work of a lone human and a lone demon.” 
“You know, just once I’d like to be called Lord Lucifer by you guys…” 
Emilia gracefully poked her way into the demons’ conversation: 
“But the Devil King could’ve done this up easy back in his glory days, no? He made one robust enough to toss the archangel Sariel in.” 
“Uh, Satan’s right here, lady.” 
“Mm. So?” 
Satan smiled a bit. The sight of the Hero pondering over this issue with the demons seemed oddly comedic. 
“…What’s so funny? Stop making that creepy face at me. I’ll cut you, and I mean it this time.” 
“Oooh, sorry, sorry. But anyway! That’s not the thing here.” 
Satan waved his arms in an attempt to regain control over the conversation. Already his body language was back to human form. 
“…Don’t you see? There’s only one way you can open a Gate, like, anywhere and anytime you want.” 
“…?” 
Alciel, Lucifer, and Emilia all tilted their heads in unison. Satan couldn’t help smiling again. 
“Right, Camio?” 
“Sir.” 
Satan turned to Camio, loyally attending to his side. 
“It always winds up like this, doesn’t it? It always has.” 
“Very true, my liege. And even the Hero is no exception, you are saying?” 
“…I don’t know what you’re mumbling about, but I am seriously looking to cut someone right now, all right?” 
“Now is not the time for that, Emilia. I need your power, too. We have to close the rift.” Alciel’s voice was a monotone as he chided her, his hands arching up toward the dimensional tear in space. 
“…I have been doing so many favors for you guys…” Lining up next to Alciel, Emilia pointed her Better Half at the schism. 
“Don’t blame me if this goes wacky. You got any complaints, bring ’em to Satan.” Lucifer, already looking to avoid any and all responsibility, settled down across from Emilia and next to Alciel. 
“And you wonder why I refuse to treat you with respect. Your travels have changed you but little.” Camio, voicing what everyone was thinking, brought his own talon to the void. 
“Well, like it or not, you’re all in the same boat now. Jeez. Who knows what kinda crap I’d be in if I was alone.” With these few parting words, Satan held the jeweled sword in his right hand. 
Given that it was fitted for Camio, the sword looked like a fancy letter opener when wielded by the larger-than-life Satan. 
And yet: 
“Ahh, this sure brings me back.” 
Bringing the blade of the sword to his eyes, Satan muttered softly enough that his words stayed only with himself. The blade began to glow stronger, redder, and darker. The demonic power within it resonated with Satan’s. 
“I was really this strong, huh? Man.” 
As she lent a disinterested ear to the demons’ conversation, Emilia sharpened her wits as she leered at the dimensional rift. “…All right. I’m gonna cut the force keeping this Gate intact away from the local space. After that, it’s up to you guys. Push the leaking demonic force back and close up the scar.” 
“Cut the force away? You can do that?” 
Emilia’s eyes, and nothing else, turned toward Satan. 
The Better Half glowing in her hands all but evoked the image of the small child inside, eyes sparkling, chest puffed up proudly. 
“I’m saying…that I can.” 
“Huh. Well, that’s gonna keep me up at night.” 
Leaving the snickering Satan behind, Emilia tore off. 
Like a shot of lightning piercing a lake of dark sludge, she made a beeline straight at the eerie Gate, then let off two bolts of purple-tinged lightning. 
The moment they reached the rift, the horizon between the Gate and normal space began to waver. 
“Now!” 
“Right! Shut ’er down!!” 
Following Emilia’s signal, the four great demons thrust their force at the Gate en masse. 
The border wavered, the stable part of the rift growing increasingly smaller and smaller. 
If the foghorn sounded like the roaring of an ancient dragon, the cacophony emitted by the shrinking Gate would have been the dying wail of a slavering, chaotic beast, smote by the lightning of some mythical god. It was not of this world, and it was enough to even set the King of All Demons’ ears on edge. 
The fog began to swarm toward the shrinking Gate. 
The dragon roared, as if prodded by the demons’ force. 
And then… 
 
“The sea… It’s calmed down.” 
Suzuno and Chiho heard the dragon-roar from the deserted Cape Inuboh-saki. 
Buooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnn… 
Buooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnn… 
Buoooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn… 
The scream of an ancient god, a lone survivor in his world calling out for his long-fallen companions, echoed loud and long across the Inuboh seas. 
“Suzuno! The fog!” 
The fog began to disappear just as rapidly as it formed, as if the foghorn scared it off. 
“Is it over?” 
“Looks a fair bit like it.” 
Amane appeared once more from the dissipating fog. 
She still acted the part of a cheerful shop runner. Not even a smidgen of the dignified forcefulness she revealed in the fog earlier remained. 
“I took those scary guys and the little birdie back to the world they belonged in. Looks like Maou and crew boarded up that big ol’ pit trap, too. Thing is, though…” 
She turned back toward the ocean and ruefully scratched her cheek. 
“They kinda took a little too much time. I bet they used up all their power in the process. Kind of too far to see, but they probably fell in the water. You know if they can swim at all? ’Cause they got a pretty long haul ahead of ’em.” 
Amane grinned as she sized up Suzuno and Chiho. 
“Huhh?!” 
It all ended in the middle of the night, but by the time the horizon began to brighten and the sun began to hide the starlight, neither Emi, nor Maou, nor Ashiya, nor Urushihara were back. 
All Chiho could do was scan the dark seas for a sign of them, her eyes all but ready to erupt in tears, and all Suzuno could do was pray that Emi’s holy energy wouldn’t disappear from her senses. 
Inuboh-saki Lighthouse loomed above, as it always did, a sentry of light guiding early-morning voyagers to safety. 
There was a pathway underneath the bluff the lighthouse was built upon, letting tourists walk right up to the shoreline. 
Just as the sun was about to poke its way above the horizon, underneath the cape bluff: 
“Yusa! Maou!” 
“Alciel! Lucifer! You’re alive?!” 
The Hero Emilia, hair still a blue-tinged silver, was washed ashore, soaked to the core. Sadao Maou, Shirou Ashiya, and Hanzou Urushihara were right next to her. 
“Huff…! Huff…huff… C-Chiho… Bell… Um… Um, it’s pretty much over…” 
Gasping for air, Emilia transformed out of Hero mode before their eyes, returning to her regular Emi Yusa form. 
“Chi-Sis! Suzu-Sis!” 
Then another, smaller figure appeared. 
“Alas Ramus!” 
“Guess what? Guess what? Mommy and Daddy and tweety-tweet and Al-Cell and Looshifer, and, and, guess what!” 
Alas Ramus could only barely contain her excitement. 
“It was, booooom, then baaaaam, and then we all went zoooooom, then oomph!” 
“……” 
“……” 
Her commentary wasn’t much help. 
“Then it was all light, then tweety-tweet went home!” 
“‘Tweety-tweet’… Camio went back to the demon realm?” 
Chiho tried to ask Maou, but between the important business of lying on the beach and breathing shallowly, he wasn’t in the mood for conversation. 
“The sword…and Camio went back. Then the fog lifted.” 
Emi, her breath a bit more collected, began to move her lips. 
“And right when it did, they all turned human again. Like, six hundred feet above sea level!” 
“Oh.” 
“Ooh, I just wish I could’ve recorded their screaming when they all fell in the water. It was poetry in motion. I mean, if they knew that would happen, they shoulda at least retained enough demon force to fly back.” 
Emi wasn’t one to talk. The exhaustion was written on her face. She might have retained her demi-angel form through the whole ordeal, but dragging three grown men through the rugged Choshi waves couldn’t have been an easy swim. 
“…They really, really owe me now. Don’t these demons ever…plan anything?” 
“Mommy’s all wet! You okeh? You’ll get a cold!” 
“I’m fine. How about you?” 
“I’m okeh!” 
It was the first real battle the holy sword had seen since its fusion with Alas Ramus, but just as the child said, nothing seemed off with her at all. 
“Well, someone was sure a hard worker today, huh? I think you deserve a big reward later on.” 
“Yay!” 
“Well, hello! Talk about a hard day’s night, huh?” 
Amane chose that moment to stroll down from the top of the path, clapping as she took a glance at every waterlogged rat on the shore in order. They knew she wasn’t any normal human being by now, but on the more important question—Friend, or foe?—there was still no guessing. 
Emi and Suzuno tensed up, making their alarm at her presence clear. 
“Oh, whoa, whooooa, why’re you picking a fight with me? I didn’t do anything. Really! I’ll tell you everything I can, so, um… Y’know, even if it is summer, I can’t just leave you guys to dry out down here, so…” 
Emi, glaring upward at Amane, could no longer resist the urge. 
“Huh-choo!!” 
The sneeze was like a shotgun. 
“…See? You’re gonna get a monster cold.” 
Amane pointed up at the cape. 
“How ’bout we all head back to Ohguro-ya? I’ll make sure we pump some hot water into the showers for you. Hey, and look!” 
She brought a hand to her forehead as she gazed at the ocean. 
“What a great morning, huh? The perfect way to end a battle.” 
The sun was now visible on the horizon. As it shyly peeked out, the beam from Inuboh-kai Lighthouse shut itself off. Shutters gradually closed themselves over the light room on the tip of the tower, covering the first-order Fresnel lens that guarded the Chiba seas. 
The most beautiful sunrise in all of Japan, a source of pride for all Choshi locals, unfurled its generous arms of light to the people, demons, and Hero who witnessed the conflict. 
 
By the time the sun made it fully above the horizon, it was already shaping up to be another hot day in Kimigahama Beach. 
Despite yesterday’s barely controlled chaos, Ohguro-ya, the only beach shop in operation, was preparing to board the treadmill again today. 
As Amane put it: 
“Whether it’s water or javelins coming from the sky, any Japanese worth his salt always keeps the shop doors open!” 
Maou had a word or two to say about that. But what the boss says, goes. 
The day after she witnessed the three demons in their true forms as they waged cross-dimensional warfare with alien invaders, Amane only needed seven words to shut the three of them up: 
“I’m not paying you if you don’t.” 
So there was Maou wiping down the tables, Urushihara filling the kiddie pool with water, Ashiya striving to prepare enough ingredients to cover a crowd as big as yesterday’s. 
“You know, when I first showed up, Chiho and Kamazuki…well, my, they were just beside themselves! What on earth have you been saying to them about me?” 
“Well, I mean, you were just a total riddle to us, so…” 
Maou did his best to make excuses. 
Suzuno and Chiho, from the safety of the inn, looked on as Emi and Maou flew off over the sea. 
Maou resented Emi at first for leaving Chiho at Kimigahama as the Malebranche loomed in the skies. But as Emi explained: 
“If Amane really did have some kind of power, I figured she’d find her if things really did get that bad.” 
“Oh, now now, it wasn’t just Chiho. There was someone else, remember? What did you think about her?” 
Suzuno, pouting to herself in a corner of the store, flailed about as Amane made her the topic of conversation. 
“I, I was not seeking the aid of anyone! Against the Malebranche, I could fight effectively with one hand as I protected Chiho!” 
“Yeah, I mean, Suzuno’s strong enough, and… Okay, it’s great if she kept Chiho safe. That’s all.” 
“Eeeee!!” 
“Your Demonic Highness, have you learned nothing? She was never even made aware of Camio. The odd woman out, the entire time! You have to at least show a little care for—grrgbbh!” 
Ashiya began lecturing Maou once again, but made the mistake of doing so in full earshot of Suzuno. This time, he was rewarded with a bottle of soy sauce to the back of the head. 
“I am not the odd anything out! I haven’t a care in the world for such nonsense! If I were there, I could have rendered a thousand-strong demon army into so much flotsam and jetsam! But Emilia! What of your performance?!” 
Suzuno frowned a sort of lonely frown as she directed her ire at Emi in the corner. 
“I understand you slew not a single demon, Emilia! What is the meaning of that?!” 
“What? Nothing, really.” 
Emi, seated in a shady section of the shop, was the only one in a swimsuit. 
Her clothing was currently being hurriedly washed after her little overnight swim, but since she had no change of clothes with her, she was forced to rock the beach-gal look the entire day. 
“I just… I stopped letting my hate drive me to kill everyone in my way. If I need to, then sure. I swear I wouldn’t hesitate to take someone’s life…but…” 
Emi glanced at Maou, currently preoccupied with wiping the tables and chairs. 
“If I’m gonna go at it with someone, it’s not gonna be fair unless we go back there first. I think Ciriatto’s a lot stronger than that, too, back home. And I can’t bust out my full strength in Japan, either, of course. It’s easy to kill someone, but making someone on the other side hate you for it… Well, that’s just a pain, you know? This…” 
Emi shrugged and held her arms up in the air. 
“This ridiculous war we’re fighting… I don’t want to keep postponing it to the future. When it happens, I want to win. I want to overwhelm them with my power. That’s why I didn’t kill them.” 
“Kaahhh… Bright and early in the morning, you girls are going on about killing and maiming and gouging people’s eyes out. What happened to the pretty li’l pearls of Japan that showed up a couple days ago?” Amane commented to no one in particular as she filled the cash register with change. 
“So…that light was from the lighthouse, right? And you were controlling the fog and everything, Amane? What was that, anyway? And that first cyclopean and the beast demonoid… What about them? Are they dead?” 
Amane didn’t shift an inch at Urushihara’s barrage of questions. She paused and sipped from a 5-Honest Energy. 
“The children of the Tree of Life belong to the land of Sephirot.” 
“Huh?” 
The word Sephirot being tossed around without warning brought everybody to attention. 
“They simply returned to the place they needed to be. The light merely showed them the way. …Well, showed them to the cliff and kind of pushed them off, but you know what I mean. People like those are bad news, you know. We don’t need them getting in the way of our business.” 
After giving that inscrutable answer, Amane looked at Maou. 
“You’ve met my Aunt Mikitty before, right, Maou?” 
“Uh, yeah, of course…” 
“Did she tell you at all about us?” 
“About you… ‘Us’? You mean besides how you’re relatives?” 
“…Aww. Well, never mind. Can’t say any more out of my mouth.” Amane closed the register and wryly shook her head. 
“What do you mean, though? That you are more than merely human?” 
Amane shook her head again at Ashiya as he wrapped up the day’s vegetables and took his knife to the whetstone. 
“Welllll… If you want to say we aren’t human, then I suppose you could do that, but… Y’know, though, I go in for my physical every year, and nothing ever comes up in the tests. The picture of health!” 
“No, er, that wasn’t quite what I was asking…” 
“Well, it’s fine, isn’t it? We’re all alive, so.” With that, Amane strode up to Emi. 
“…Um?” 
“Aw, look at her sleep.” 
She brought a hand to Emi’s forehead, eyes focused upon hers. 
Emi stared right back at her. There was no “sleep” involved. 
Maybe Amane knew about Alas Ramus inside of her after all. 
“Make sure you don’t let that kid down, okay? She deserves that. In fact, she might just be a really, really distant relative of mine.” 
“Uh?” 
Before Emi could parse what that meant, Amane removed her hand and turned back around. 
“Okay! Are we about ready to open?” 
She was speaking to the demons. 
“Ooh, guess I came in just at the right time.” 
Chiho let herself in from the back, Emi’s wardrobe in tow. 
“It’s going to be another hot one today. I only had these hanging out for a little bit, but they’re already dry. Here you are, Yusa.” 
“Oh, thanks, Chiho.” 
Emi accepted the laundry from Chiho, never taking her eyes off Amane as she did. 
“Ah, perfect timing! Right, then.” 
Then Amane clapped twice to gather everyone’s attention. 
“I know it’s only been a couple days, and I’d like to thank you all very much, but I’m afraid I can’t have you work here any longer.” 
“…Uhm?” 
“Uhmm?!!” 
None of the demons could manage more than a pained whimper in response. 
“I’ll figure out how to manage this place well enough, so don’t worry about that. Oh, and—hey, Maou and Kamazuki? Aunt Mikitty got the repairs finished in record time, apparently, so your apartment’s all ready to go.” 
“Uh, what are you talking about? I don’t get where this is all coming from.” 
Finally swallowing Amane’s out-of-left-field announcement, Maou felt his face turn white as the morning sun hit it. 
“Did I tell you about the moren-yassa? I forget.” 
“Moren-yassa?” 
He did vaguely remember something about that during that beachside evening with the fireworks. 
The moren-yassa, the seafaring ghosts that stalked the Choshi seas. 
“Well, that story’s true, you know. The details are kind of off a little, but…” 
“Er?” 
“But, yeahhh, I figured there had to be something up with you guys since Aunt Mikitty recommended you and everything. But, Lordy, you guys are just too much for my customers! Especially you, Maou and Ashiya. Why, you could mess up the entire energy balance on this beach, you know?” 
“…Uh, umm, Amane, I’m sorry to interrupt you and all, but…” 
Chiho, her face just as white as Maou’s for some reason, stepped up to the plate. She pointed a shaky finger at a corner of the shop opposite from Emi’s seat. 
“Is…is that a child’s shadow over there?” 
“…Whoopsie.” 
Amane took a look, then turned her face toward the ceiling. 
None of the demons, nor Emi or Suzuno, had noticed any kind of shadow over there. 
The shadow suddenly turned upward, as if realizing it was now the center of attention. 
“…!!!!” 
Emi let out a silent shriek and leaped out of her chair. 
The shadow had no face. Or, to be exact, it really was nothing more than a dark shade against the wall. 
It looked like the matte-black silhouette of a child, and as everyone stared at it, frozen in fear, it dashed off toward the beach. 
“M-M-M-My, my, my l-lieeeege…” 
They all had the shock of their lives yet again as Ashiya pointed outside. 
The sea, and the beach itself, was teeming. 
Not with beachgoers. 
With what seemed like hundreds and hundreds of shadows, just like the one that darted out of the shop. 
Kimigahama, bright and sunny in the late-summer morning, was now playing host to a large conference of black silhouettes. 
Every one of them was person shaped. Some even had inner tubes and beach balls in hand, all just as jet-black as themselves. There were even a few enjoying what looked like an early lunch. 
But it was all shadows. Just a massive crowd of shadows. 
“A-Ama, ma, ma, ma, Amane, what’s that?!” 
The vision came on so suddenly, so without warning, that everyone fell into a panic, not knowing how to cope. 
What were these silhouettes? They didn’t seem hostile, but they were definitely not the crowd they had been selling soft drinks and curry to yesterday. 
“Well, it’s partly you guys’ fault, is what it is.” 
Amane, completely unfazed, waved a hand at the crowd of shades, as if greeting her neighbors down the street. 
“Wh-Wh-Wh-What do you mean?!” 
Maou, keeping the dazed Chiho protected, all but shouted at Amane. 
“Well, think about it. Demonic force, and holy energy. Have you ever considered what those are, really?” 
“Wh-What are you…?” 
“They say there’s something special to a beautiful sunrise, right? A kind of energy you can’t find anywhere else. There are moren-yassa, all right, but they aren’t the spirits of the drowned or anything. This is a holy sanctuary, one of the few on Earth where a soul can go to cleanse itself. The season only runs from mid-July to mid-August, pretty much, but this is where they kick back and take a load off. And me and my dad… We hold the fort, so to speak. We fight to protect the souls of the dead that show up here. But, y’know…” 
Amane gave Maou an uncharacteristically disapproving frown. 
“Your demonic and holy forces could only exist in a world that was on the brink of collapse anyway. And yesterday, when you shot all that energy over kingdom come… It threw off the all-but-perfect balance we had going in this sanctuary. They have the chance to take on human form while they’re here, but now they’ve just about lost it. So that’s why I’m afraid I can’t keep you on any longer.” 
“On the brink of collapse? Wh-What do you mean?” 
Amane flashed a suggestive smile at Suzuno’s question. 
“Here on planet Earth, you know… There’re a lot of forces, and mysteries, you’d never be aware of. From long, looooooong ago. Long before there were gods, even.” 
She showed a politician’s knack for vagueness in the reply, but Amane gave them no chance to fire back. 
“So! Now that we’re clear on that… Again, sorry about this, folks. You definitely filled the place up, so I’ll be giving you all a bonus for that. My dad always taught me that I need to reward people when they go the extra mile, so don’t worry about that.” 
Amane raised an arm and snapped her fingers. 
Buooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnn… 
Buooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnn… 
Buoooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn… 
The foghorn went off. 
Along with it, the fog rolled back on to the beach from some unknown spot, like a ninja firing off the all-time mother of smoke bombs. 
Between the ocean gales and flying sand, Maou could barely keep his eyes open as he heard Amane speak. 
“Call me the ‘Binah’ of Earth.” 
She was standing right in front of them a moment ago, but with her voice muffled and thrown by the wind and fog, it was hard to tell where she was any longer. 
“Search for the Da’at of your world, and bring the world back to what it should be. I’m sure that’s what my Aunt Mikitty’s waiting for.” 
And that was the end. 
The moment after the foghorn fell silent, the fog was driven away by an explosive blast. 
Then, when they opened their eyes, Kimigahama, the strange shades frolicking in it, and the Ohguro-ya sundry shop were all gone. 
In place of the bright, wide beach, there was a path lining a concrete levee, anti-erosion tetrapods piled up on the shoreline. It was the same sight Chiho saw among the waves the first day in Choshi, on the van to Ohguro-ya. The water was shallow, lined with reefs, and wholly unsuitable for wading. 
Maou, Ashiya, and Urushihara; Emi, Chiho, and Suzuno; and all of their luggage were lined up neatly on the weed-lined walkway. 
“Wha…wha…wha…” 
Maou’s voice trembled. 
“Where the hell are we?!!” 
His scream charged deep into the sea before dissipating out on the horizon. 
It couldn’t have been in response to that, but it was then that he noticed something fluttering in the air: what looked like red pieces of paper. They could easily be counted, because each settled to the ground at a corresponding person’s feet. 
“M-Maou, is that…?” 
Chiho showed one of the envelopes to him. 
“Our…bonus?” 
 
Even with all the travel and prep costs, a 50,000-yen bonus per demon for about two and a half days of work wasn’t too shabby at all. 
Counting the 10,000 yen Emi and Chiho received, and the 20,000 Suzuno earned for her sand-castle mastery, Amane blew most of yesterday’s profit on these envelopes. 
Even after all the bizarre events of the past forty-eight hours or so, the King of All Demons still had serious concern over whether Ohguro-ya could remain going. 
“I…assume this is not counterfeit? It will not dissolve in water, or the like?” 
After that gathering of shades enjoying the beach, no one could blame Suzuno for her suspicions. 
Like an evil cartoon magnate, each one of them carefully observed every millimeter of the bills. Then: 
“…Let’s just go home.” 
No one offered any dissent. 
There was nothing along the walkway to hide behind, forcing Emi to put her dry clothes back on over her swimsuit. 
The Inuboh-saki Inn and lighthouse in the distance looked the same as it always did these past two days. But if you asked any of the passersby about a public beach around here, there was no doubt they’d all shake their heads. 
Maou’s landlord vanished from Tokyo after taking a similarly suggestive attitude with them, leaving a boundless number of doubts up in the air. And, much in the same way, if they tried looking for any trace of Ohguro-ya and Amane right now, they’d almost certainly come up empty. 
They tried calling Amane’s cell phone, just in case—more out of curiosity than anything—but it always came up as not available or outside of service range. 
“Your Demonic Highness. I found this among our luggage.” 
Maou ran his eyes down the large piece of paper Ashiya handed him. 
“…Man. This is too much. Does she take anything seriously, or what?” 
It was a handwritten guide to Choshi’s best tourist sites. 
 
The ocean spread out 330 degrees around them. The altitude gave them the ability to view all of Choshi in one glance. 
“Dude, big whoop. We were flying higher than this just a—ow!” 
Maou, shutting Urushihara down before he could ruin the mood further, climbed the stairs to a viewing platform in the middle of the observation deck. 
“…Damn. This is huge.” 
His vantage point gave him a 360-degree panoramic view of Choshi and the ocean surrounding it, inspiring him to stretch his body out and take in the heady wind. 
The deck had the somewhat unwieldy name of “The Observatory That Makes the Earth Look Round.” 
It was really more the roof of a building than an observatory, but the site, atop one of the taller hills near Inuboh rail station, was one of the most well-known sightseeing spots in all of Choshi. 
The gang’s intention was to clamber into the Choshi Electric Railway car and get the hell out of there, but they were cursed by bad timing—the train pulled out of the station just as they arrived. 
The next one wasn’t due for over half an hour, so they climbed up here rather than spend the time staring into space on the platform. They were rewarded with a view that outclassed all expectations. 
The sun was beating down hard on them, but the cloudless sky allowed them to examine Choshi unobstructed, from edge to edge. 
Inuboh-saki Lighthouse seemed pretty big from nearby, but up here, it looked about as tall as a stoplight. 
“If I may, Your Demonic Highness, this is nothing. A mere speck. Hardly anything worthy of your praise. You are destined to seize Ente Isla one day. Do not fool Emilia into believing this view is enough to satisfy you.” 
“Yeah, Ashiya. Someday. Right now, though, we had to rely on a bunch of other people just to keep Choshi safe.” 
“That is…perhaps the case, yes.” 
“Plus, if I didn’t have you, and Urushihara, and Malacoda and Adramelech, and Camio for that matter, I wouldn’t even be ruling the demon realms. You all used to be enemies to me once upon a time, remember? And then you joined me to support my cause.” 
Maou put a hand on Ashiya’s shoulder. 
“That’s how humans work, too, don’t you think?” 
“…Indeed. Perhaps you are correct.” 
“Eesh. I thought that keen observation would amaze you a little more than that.” 
“I am quite used to your fanciful turns of speech at this point, my liege.” 
Something about Ashiya’s finely honed rejoinder irked Maou. 
“Well, I mean, look at all this. Doesn’t it make you wonder what the hell we were wasting our time with, sometimes? I mean, they make electricity with those things.” 
He pointed at the wind turbines looming over Byoubugaura. 
“There’s zero magic power on Earth, and they still built that Skytree-type thing over there. That’s taller than my old Devil’s Castle!” 
“It is called Choshi Port Tower, Your Demonic Highness, according to the map. The Devil’s Castle was quite a bit taller.” 
“And despite that, they have crap like the Choshi Electric Railway. Taking all those clunky old locomotives and building something new out of them. A new culture. There’s no way I could ever annihilate this species. Don’t you just want to gather them all up and rule over them instead?” 
“It is a nice thought, my liege, but first we must find a way to give you consistent access to your demonic force.” 
Ashiya grinned helplessly at Maou, his eyes shimmering with childlike ambition. Emi chose the moment to speak up. 
“Say, how’d you find enough power to return to demon form anyway?” 
This wasn’t like the previous times. Choshi wasn’t blighted by some disaster that filled the locals with enough negative energy to power the transformation. 
“Oh, that? Well, you remember the sword Camio brought along, right? Turns out it’s made from that horn of mine you lopped off.” 
“…Huh?” 
Emi let her jaw hang open. 
“Hey, don’t blame me. Blame Olba. He collected all the horn fragments and had a sword forged from ’em, but there was so much demonic force in it, they couldn’t find anyone to wield the thing. I guess he brought it to Camio as kind of a bargaining chip. But that’s not the problem right now. This is.” 
Maou took something out of his shorts pocket and tossed it at Emi. 
It was small, the size of a marble, and it glistened a purple shade in the sun. 
“Is this…?!” 
“I found it with all the other bling engraved on the scabbard. Remember what Camio said? The clue Olba relied on to track down the holy sword? That’s probably it.” 
“Who…made that sword set, though?” 
“Well, I doubt Olba carried that sword around without the scabbard. I didn’t hear anything about it, but I’m pretty sure he had the blade and scabbard as a set, so… Kinda makes it easier to picture what kind of bastards are backing him up, huh?” 
“Ah…yes. My internal investigations did reveal a supply of your horn’s fragments in Olba’s private office… But how could one forge those into a blade?” 
“Hell if I know.” 
It was nothing Suzuno could ignore. The whole reason she found Japan was because she had tracked the path Olba took after examining the horn fragments. 
And even now, Olba’s name wielded considerable power among Church officials on Ente Isla’s Western Island. 
What drove him to do all of that, however? She still couldn’t even guess. 
“If I had to imagine, this Yesod fragment was stuck on there to try and offset the demonic power in my horn. Kind of a safety valve to keep my force from leaking out of the sword…although it still leaked out enough that it kept Camio and that cyclopean in their demon forms on Earth. Not that I know why he’d give this fragment up so easily, even though he’s going nuts looking for your holy sword.” 
Emi peered at the purple Yesod fragment in her hand. 
“But anyway, it’s not much use to me. Let Alas Ramus have it. Maybe it’ll make you stronger or something, huh?” 
“Th-Thank you… Wait, no thank you! Are you serious?!” Emi shook her head, desperately trying to keep her gratitude from slipping through for all to see. “You realize you’re not kidding, right? This is seriously gonna amplify my power. Just merging with Alas Ramus let me beat an archangel!” 
“Oh, you don’t want it?” 
Maou snorted indignantly. 
“Don’t kid yourself, girl. Just a few bits from my horn that you so kindly shattered to pieces was enough to transform both myself and three other top-level demons. If I ever get my full strength back, I’m taking over this entire planet. You included.” 
“What?!” It was Chiho who picked up on his declaration first. “So you’ll really do it, Maou? You’re going to conquer the world? Really?!” 
There was something about the way Chiho used the term “conquer the world” that seemed to drain it of all meaning as it dissolved into the air. 
Emi was nonplussed, her face red with shame. 
“I… Oh, now what’re you going on about?” 
“Emilia, it is not too late. We could search for Amane right now, have her transport the Devil King and his cohorts back to the world, and slay them there. Yes. We should do it at once. Come.” 
Suzuno’s invitation sounded more like an incantation, emanating from her dark, brooding visage. 
“My liege, if you could restrain yourself… There are people nearby.” 
“Dude, you are seriously embarrassing me right now, Maou. It’s too hot for that crap. Can we go? I don’t wanna get sunburned.” 
To the wrong pair of ears, Maou might just have sounded like someone making a serious threat. Ashiya fretted to himself about it, while Urushihara actively jeered—making sure he was a safe distance away first. 
“I…I have never been so humiliated in my life!” 
Emi’s face burned with rage. She looked ready to pounce upon Maou at any moment. 
But even she was prudent enough not to break out her holy sword. 
It was a childish and altogether immature argument between human and demon, and soon, it was absorbed into the cloudless summer sky and disappeared.