Hataraku Maou-sama! - Volume 9 - Chapter 4

THE DEVIL, ONCE UPON A TIME 
Emi was having a dream. 
She’d woken up in a panic and turned her eyes to her desk clock. Eight in the morning. She’d completely overslept. 
She flung herself out of bed to prepare for work but wound up kicking the clock off the desk instead. A dull, stubbing pain danced across her toes. 
“What’s up with you, Emi?” 
She looked up, only to find Rika sitting next to her, peering at her cube. Now Emi was in her uniform, crouched under the desk, blushing and trying to laugh it off. 
“Uh, my pen got stuck between the partition and the floor, so I’m having trouble getting it out…” 
“Ohhh. Oh, hey, speaking of which, I found this ramen joint that’s supposed to be pretty good. Wanna hit it up for lunch?” 
“Sure. I haven’t had ramen in a while anyways… Oh, hang on, I got a call. Hello?” 
“Good afternoon, Yusa!” 
The voice was Chiho’s. Emi, in her everyday sweats, sat down on her sofa at home to focus on the conversation. Chiho called her a few times a week at this point, reporting on Maou at work and chatting about this and that. Emi knew that the girl’s adoration was causing her to filter a lot of the juicier details out, but she was nonetheless saving Emi a lot of stake-out time around the MgRonald. This was fully understood on Chiho’s part. They were good friends by now, anyway. 
“Listen, I’m sorry I’m late on this, but there’s this club meeting I can’t get out of, so I’m gonna have to skip dinner at Maou’s tonight.” 
“Oh, no? Well, that’s too bad, but school’s school. You can always stop by after that, though, if your mom says it’s okay… Sure. Lemme know if you can. Okay… Hey, Bell? Chiho said she might not be able to make it today.” 
When she hung up, Emi was in Room 202 of Villa Rosa Sasazuka, talking to Suzuno as her friend busily attended to kitchen duties. 
“Oh? A pity. I was hoping she would try the rice omelet she taught me how to make…” Suzuno opened the refrigerator door. “…Hmm.” 
“What?” 
“Heavens… Look at me, I’ve gone and forgotten to purchase any ketchup.” 
“Oh, I could run out and get some for you if you want. Um, ketchup, ketchup…” 
Emi turned around, peering at the signs down each aisle of the Safepath supermarket off Sasazuka rail station. Walking down one of them, she ran smack-dab into Ashiya and Urushihara. 
“…Alciel? Lucifer? What’re you doing with all those eggs?” 
“I was thinking I would try to make a…a ‘quiche,’ was it? Ms. Sasaki gave me a recipe.” 
“Dude, why’d you drag me here just because they were on sale? Mannn, I wanna go home. What’re you doing here?” 
“Just picking up something for Bell. Oh, by the way, Chiho might have to miss dinner today.” 
“Is that true? Ugh… Who am I going to have judge this quiche for me, then?” 
“Aw man, so no fried chicken? Mehhh…” 
Emi was taken aback a little. She wasn’t expecting Chiho to have such a huge impact on the night’s dinner. It was shaping up to be a rather eggy one. 
Soon, the three found themselves wandering around the supermarket together. “It oughta be fine, though,” Emi advised. “Alas Ramus likes eggs. Don’t you, Alas Ramus?” 
“Mommy,” Alas Ramus exclaimed as she toddled along next to her, “I wanna see Daddy!” 
“In a little while, okay?” 
Now the stairway in front of Villa Rosa Sasazuka was right in front of them, Alas Ramus in her arms. Even after the renovations, climbing these stairs was still a dicey prospect, so she watched her step as she ascended and opened the door to Devil’s Castle up top. The letters “MAOU” written in Sharpie on the bare wooden nameplate had faded a fair amount by now; Emi wondered why he had never bothered changing it out. 
“You in there, Devil King? I’m coming in.” 
She pushed the chime button (like she always did) and was just about to push the door open without waiting for a response (like she always did) when: 
“Huh?” 
Nobody was inside. In fact, all the appliances, and furniture, and everything else were gone. There was no evidence that anyone lived there at all. 
“Alciel? Lucifer? Where are you, Devil King…? Alciel?” 
The two demons were with her all the way home, but now they were missing. Maybe they got split up on the way. Flustered, Emi knocked on the next adjacent door. 
“Bell? Hey, Bell? The Devil King isn’t in there. Do you know where he…” 
But Room 202, where Suzuno was briskly cooking up dinner not a moment ago, was just as bare. 
“Wha…? Uh… What’s…?” 
Emi fumbled for her cell phone and made a call to Chiho. She should’ve been free from school by now. But: 
“We’re sorry. The number you have dialed is out of service. Please check the number and…” 
It didn’t work. She had Chiho’s number on her phone, but it didn’t work. Disconnected. She called Rika; she called Suzuno; she called Urushihara’s PC account—none of them worked. 
A tidal wave of anxiety crashed over her. She decided to go back to Devil’s Castle—but it didn’t work. The door wouldn’t budge. It had been unlocked two seconds ago, but now, push and pull as she did, Room 201 was tightly shut away. 
“Devil King!” Emi screamed as she knocked on the door. “I know you’re in there! Open up!” Nothing happened. “What’re you doing in there?! Give it up and open the door! Did something happen to you? Are you all right?!” 
The anxiety inside her grew, whether she wanted it to or not. What could have happened? Chiho, Rika, Suzuno, Ashiya, Urushihara… What could have happened to them? 
“They’re all gone! Do you know what happened to them? This is serious, Devil King! Listen to me!” 
Suddenly, the doorknob turned. The door rotated inward, sending Emi tumbling inside. 
“?!” She looked up, then gasped. 
There, she found Devil’s Castle—the one on Ente Isla’s Central Continent. The final redoubt of the demons, the site of the fateful battle that Emi failed to consummate by a mere hairsbreadth. 
A large, indistinct black shade loomed in the background. It wielded a sword shaped exactly like the one Emi had, and it was floating toward her. Reflexively, Emi readied her blade—or tried to. But, for some reason, Alas Ramus, in her arms the entire time over at Villa Rosa, was gone. The Better Half refused to materialize. 
An empty dread fell upon Emi. No doubt about it: This was the Devil King. The Devil King she had to kill. And yet—somehow, at the very pit of her stomach, the sight came as a relief to her. 
“Oh, thank heavens… There you are. You could’ve at least said something.” 
The dark shade loomed like the ominous dawn of death. Emi continued addressing it anyway. “I can’t get Chiho on the phone,” she reported. “Or Bell. She sent me out to pick up some ketchup for her, and then she just left. And I was with Alciel and Lucifer on the way home, too, and they just vanished… Don’t you think that’s so rude?” 
The shade did not reply, sword still at the ready as it came closer to Emi. 
“And, and I let Alas Ramus out of sight for just a moment, and she went away, too… And if you were gone, too…I, I don’t know what I’d do with myself. What were you doing, anyway?” 
Emi lowered her face, staring at the ground as the dark shadow shimmered in front of her. 
“Look, I…I know Chiho called and said she couldn’t make it over, but…Bell and Alciel, they were really working hard on dinner, it looked like. Couldn’t we wait Chiho out a little bit, together? I… Not that I mind either way, but I think that’d make Alas Ramus happier, so…” 
The shade lifted its sword into the air. The blade, purple light trailing behind it as it whirled, reflected the red light coming in from the windows, making the shadow’s face seem to rise above the darkness. 
“So…” 
The face of Sadao Maou that floated into sight was, for reasons only he could understand, exhibiting a gentle smile. 
“So…let’s eat together again…” 
“—!!” 
The sound of her own voice awakened Emi, making her practically fly out of bed. Her entire body was covered in sweat, but before she did anything else, she brought a hand to her chest. 
“What…was that…?” 
Her pulse refused to slow, her breathing ragged. She had woken up right when the purple-glowing holy sword, wielded by the shadow with Maou’s face, plunged right through her chest. It was a raw dream, one that filled her with fear and the kind of painful exhaustion only a nightmare could produce. 
They had all showed up in it—her, and Rika, and Chiho, and Suzuno, and Ashiya, and Urushihara, and Alas Ramus, and at the end… They were all yelling at each other, sweating it out with each other, annoying each other—and yet, just a few weeks ago, this was Emi’s everyday life, one that long ago made her dismantle the armor covering her heart. That was the dream. 
“How,” she glibly whispered to herself, “could I be so stupid this whole time? So oblivious?” 
She dreamed of Ente Isla and her father all the time back in Japan—but, looking back, she realized she had been visiting Japan every night for the past few days during her sleep. 
“I’ve just got to have my cake and eat it, too, huh…?” 
Now, Emi’s reality involved the sound of the waves pushing against the port of Phaigan, the sword and armor laid by her betrayer in a corner of her room, and herself, bound by invisible ropes around the heart. 
“Pphhh…phhh…” 
Next to her, Emi caressed Alas Ramus as she babbled in her sleep, before she herself lay down once more. Another listless day in captivity awaited her tomorrow. Now was no time to let her distracting dreams keep her from a good night’s sleep. 
Somehow, though, Emi couldn’t bring herself to wipe away the tracks of the tears that had run down her cheeks before she’d woken up. The tears of relief she’d shed upon discovering the shade of the Devil King. 
The next morning, Emi’s mind was filled more with suspicion than hatred. 
“…What in the world is he doing?” 
Olba had brought into her room a gaggle of commissioned officers, the leaders who guided the entire body of Efzahan’s Knights of the Eight Scarves. Their legions were led by the Regal Azure Scarves, responsible for protecting Heavensky and the Azure Emperor who called it home; they were joined by armies known respectively as the Inlain Azure Scarves, Regal Jade Scarves, Inlain Jade Scarves, Regal Citral Scarves, Inlain Citral Scarves, Regal Crimson Scarves, and Inlain Crimson Scarves. Each squadron had its own governmental duties, region of activity, and armaments. 
Not everyone affiliated with these diverse forces were fighting men; some served as police officers or civil servants. But the people inside the room now were all high-ranking officials—deputy generals, regional commanders: the kind of lineup that would regularly greet noble visitors from foreign and exotic lands. 
“Did you find fault with the armor?” 
Emi didn’t answer Olba’s question. She stared at the armor and sword, still resting where they had been placed. 
“I have the Cloth of the Dispeller,” she replied. “Thanks for the fancy-looking outfit you gave me, but I’m not stupid enough to just put on something without knowing what’s been done to it.” 
“Ah, was that it?” Olba smiled, not giving much apparent thought to the response. “I must apologize, Emilia, but I truly don’t want you to exhaust yourself here quite yet. Would you be willing to put it on, for your own sake?” 
“…” Emi paused, lips twisting into a scowl. She gritted her teeth at her helplessness. She had, in other words, no right of denial, and she had no idea what Olba’s motives were. Olba wasn’t going to reveal them, either. 
After a moment, Olba nodded, content that Emi had acquiesced. “Right, then, could we have the maids come in and equip her? Once Emilia is ready, I and and my handpicked group of elite Eight Scarves officers will travel eastward to Heavensky from here. Let’s go, Emilia. Do you have the…?” 
He paused for a moment, taking his eyes off Emi and scanning the room before giving a satisfied nod. 
“…Ah, good, the holy sword is safe. Perfect.” 
“Ugh…” 
The lack of Alas Ramus in the room meant that she was fused into Emi’s body. Again, no right of refusal. She glared at Olba’s back even as she marched out of the room, urged by the Eight Scarves officials to change. 
“Mommy…” 
Her anxious voice echoed in Emi’s head. 
“It’s all right. It’s all right,” she whispered, as empty as it sounded to her. 
Ten minutes later, she was clad in a shining set of gold armor with a sword to match, feeling the weight of the heavy helm in her arms. It made her blush as she advanced down a corridor of the Phaigan naval base, surrounded by Olba and his Eight Scarves knights. This shouldn’t have been a weight that would give her any trouble, and yet it felt like twice as much had been laden upon her heart. 
“Hm?” 
Then she realized something felt off to her. 
“Is this…?” 
She could feel a power inside her—a small one, but one that was threatening to overflow. After spending several weeks in Ente Isla, her holy force was pretty well topped off by this point—but there was something else, something warm flowing into her, bringing it a level higher than that. 
“Wh-what is this?” 
“You noticed?” Olba asked, not bothering to turn around as he walked ahead. “Can you hear them? Those voices, filled with hope?” 
“…?” 
Ahead lay a gate separating the base’s front yard with the rest of the city. Olba was taking the group that way. 
“We’re going into the city?” 
“We are.” 
“I hear them…” 
She could hear the murmur of a large crowd. Emi’s face twisted again. This was repulsive to her. 
At the front yard, she found a legion of fully armored Eight Scarves soldiers waiting for her, accompanied by wagons filled to the brim with assorted supplies. Among the throng was a noble, refined white mare, patiently awaiting her master. 
“That’s your mount, Emilia. You haven’t lost your riding skills, I wager?” 
She was clearly a fine, well-trained steed. The mount of a general, to be certain, not some rank-and-file pikeman. Emi had never ridden one nearly as exquisite during her quest to slay the Devil King. 
“Keep your helm under your arm,” Olba commanded her as he climbed his own horse, a chestnut almost, but not quite, as fine as Emi’s. “Show your face to the world!” Then, after two or three words to the Eight Scarves legion, with a grin he said: 
“Are you ready? It is time for the Hero Emilia to take back Heavensky once more.” 
“T-take back…?!” 
Before she could gain an explanation, the front gate of the base was whirled open. With it came the unmistakable cheer of an enthusiastic throng of onlookers. 
“What…what is all this?!” 
The high-street road that pierced through town from the gate was completely filled in on both sides with people, each one of them bearing eyes full of furtive hope. The calvaryman at the lead made a signal, and with that, the march began, greeted by another rush of jubilant applause. 
“There she is! The Hero of the Holy Sword!” 
“The stories were true! She was alive all along!” 
“’Tis truly her! Just as I saw her when last she was in Phaigan!” 
Emi’s pulse raced. The people of Phaigan knew who they had before them. They knew, and they were placing some kind of unknown hope at her feet. 
“Truly, the heavens haven’t abandoned us after all!” 
“So the Hero steps up again! To save Efzahan, and to save the Eastern Island!!” 
Then Emi noticed something that almost made her laugh. 
The last time she spoke with Emeralda, she mentioned that—whether Efzahan was a willing participant or not—Barbariccia and his horde now held power over this empire, and they had declared war against the other four islands in hopes of obtaining the Better Half. She didn’t know how large the demon forces were, but unless it was likely about ten or so times larger than the platoon Ciriatto brought with him to Choshi, it wouldn’t be able to function as an army on the ground. 
Phaigan boasted one of the largest naval ports in all of Efzahan. It was a city of strategic importance, one lined with diplomatic offices and trading firms. And yet, from the moment she was brought here, she had neither caught sight of a Malebranche nor sniffed out any demonic force in the city. 
“Olba…can I ask you something?” 
“What is it?” 
“Efzahan… It’s joined hands with Barbariccia and his Malebranche forces, right? For whatever reason. And it declared war on the rest of the world, no?” 
“…” 
“You’re the one who guided them to do that, aren’t you? So are Barbariccia and the Malebranche aware of…of all this? What’s the point of it all?” 
Olba Meiyer, formerly one of the six archbishops who served as the most powerful clerics of the land, shook his head, smiling like a father whose daughter had just asked where babies came from. 
“Emilia.” 
Among all the voices of joy and laughter that lined both sides of the procession… 
“History is going to repeat itself.” 
…his was the blackest in the entire city. 
“That was quite the nice little refrain, wasn’t it? Do not retain hope; proceed forward; blaze your own trail to survive. Well, now look at them. These people of Phaigan, capable of nothing but clinging to whatever hope they can scrape together. Why, it is like…” 
Olba looked to the sky. It was a pale shade of blue, the red moon just barely visible at this afternoon hour. 
“It is like the Malebranche, back on that very day. Those foolish Malebranche leaders, who believed every word of it when I told them they could gain revenge against the foe who slew the Devil King and his generals.” 
“…!” 
“I know you can hear them, Emilia. The rapt joy in their cheering. The cheering of these sad, sad people who have pinned their hopes upon you in an attempt at salvation—without raising a finger themselves.” 
“Olba…you…!” 
The anger, sadness, and hate welling up from Emi’s heart made her voice harden. She was afraid for a moment that her welling emotions would reach out to Alas Ramus, too, inside her. 
“And now that you’ve exposed your face to the people like this, all their hopes are upon your shoulders. There is only one road left for you to take. You, the Hero Emilia, are the icon we will reach out to as we save the empire of Efzahan from the Devil King’s Army that has taken it over. Don’t worry, you won’t have to do anything that goes counter to your nature. From here on in, you and I…” 
The desperation and emptiness behind the words’ meaning made them dark in her mind, just as his words felt on that day back in the village. 
“We are going out to hunt the horrible demons that have eaten their way into the core of Efzahan.” 
 
“Uh, Suzuno?” Maou asked, eyes wide open in disbelief. 
“What?” 
“You don’t see anything…wrong with how you look right now?” 
“Wrong how?” 
“…Forget it. Just try not to move around when you’re in eyeshot of me, all right?” 
“Rather rude of you. What is so unacceptable about this?” 
“It’s not about being ‘acceptable’ or not, it’s just… Ahh, never mind.” 
Maou sat down on the meadow and sighed. 
It was their first camp on Efzahan, in the Eastern Island—the land in which all three of them, counting Acieth, found themselves upon reaching the other side of the Gate. Judging by the geography around them, as well as the positions of the sun and two moons above, they were in the forested areas north of Heavensky, along a mighty river that ran from the capital to the bordering ocean to the north. That was a tremendous stroke of luck—no lack of drinkable water, and no concerns about ever becoming too lost. The river would also be lined with villages, allowing them to gain useful intelligence along the way when needed. 
As Suzuno put it, she was not quite able to pinpoint their destination through the Gate—not when using The Gates of Hell as an amplifier, something it wasn’t built for. The fact they wound up in an uninhabited area was “complete happenstance,” she admitted. 
Thanks to the time-zone difference—whether Earth’s or Ente Isla’s, Maou couldn’t say—they had left the museum late at night and reached Ente Isla in the early evening. Suzuno waited until the stars came out to calculate their position more exactly, and so, about six or so miles south of where the Gate had plopped them, they had set up shop for the night. 
Not that Maou enjoyed every aspect of it. 
“Hey, do you really think it’s too early to be going around like that?” 
He had dropped the subject once, but as he watched Suzuno hammer the pegs of her domed touring tent into the ground, he couldn’t help but bring it up again. 
“It is hardly any of your business, is it?” Suzuno countered. “I need to grow used to this clothing while we are still safe. This is practice.” 
“Wellll…yeah, but…” 
“Ooh! Maou! Look, look!” 
“Hmm? What is it, Aci—pppft!” 
Maou took a moment from griping to look over toward Acieth. It took the words out of his mouth. 
“See? Now I am like Suzuno!” 
“I… C’mon, guys…” 
Maou held his head in his hands. 
Both she and Suzuno were walking around in their sleeping bags. 
These were so-called “mummy” bags, the type that covered your body all the way up to the top of your head to keep you warm. They did the job well, to be sure, but one other unique trait of theirs was that you could undo the zippers along the sides and bottom to free your hands and feet while still “wearing” the bag. This let you do things like read or operate a lantern inside your tent without having to zip all the way out, or unzip your legs so you could run from bears or other campsite intruders. 

Maou was aware of all the uses this sleeping-bag structure allowed them. But did they really have to go around in them when they were just setting up tents and stuff? It made them look like a pair of large, colorful butterfly larvae as they wriggled around by the river. The sight creeped him out, especially considering how otherwise attractive Suzuno’s and Acieth’s faces were. Besides, he himself had set up his own tent long ago; to him, the only reason they were taking longer was because they were cosplaying as gigantic maggots. 
“You guys… You just wanted to try those things out, didn’t you?” 
“Ooh, yes!” 
“Wh-what?! Nonsense! I would never dream of such a thing!” 
At least Acieth was being honest with herself. 
“Geez…” 
“N-no! I-I-I fully intend to change clothes after this! I simply wanted to wear this because I could hardly bear the idea of you peeking upon me yet again… Ah!” 
It was a painfully bad excuse, one accentuated by Suzuno flapping her arms wildly out through her arm holes. The physical activity made her accidentally kick one of the tent’s binding pegs out of place. 
“Ooh, all fall down!” 
“Oh, no… Devil King! This is your fault!!” 
She must not have hammered the other pegs in place all that well. Once one of them came off, the others joined them, making the entire tent tilt to the side. 
“Look, I’ll do it for you, okay?” Maou said as he snatched a peg from Suzuno’s hand. “If you’re gonna change, do it right now while I’m not looking.” 
“Nnnnhh!!” 
The giant larva shooed him away, but soon it wriggled its way down to a hedge by the riverside, carrying along a cloth wrapping with what Maou imagined was her clothing. 
“And don’t forget the bug spray!” 
“Silence! I know!” the irritated Suzuno shouted, hackles raised (not that it showed through the round sleeping bag) as she hid herself. 
“Can you push that peg back in for me, Acieth?” 
“Okaaay!” 
The other larva shimmied its way up to Maou’s right side. 
“By the way, Acieth…” 
“Oh?” Acieth replied, fumbling with the peg before finally driving it into the earth. 
“When did you and Nord wind up in Japan, anyway…or on Earth, I mean?” 
“When? Uhh… Pretty long back, I think.” 
“Pretty long? Like, about half a year?” 
That was just about when Maou ran into Emi and Urushihara again—when his life started getting all screwy. 
“Haffa year? Uhh, six of the months?” 
Maou gave her a look. 
“I was born, um, just one year. So before that, I don’t know.” 
“Seriously?” Maou exclaimed as the larval Acieth laced a tent line through the peg. 
“Ooh, yes. When I was born, I already live with Father. So before that, I don’t know, really.” 
This was an unexpected pearl of wisdom for Maou. If Acieth could be believed, she was Alas Ramus’s “younger” sister—but considering the difference in growth, Maou assumed Acieth had attained human form long before her sibling did. Being “born,” to these things, must mean transforming from a seed or a Yesod fragment or whatever to what they were now. 
Alas Ramus was “born” less than three months ago. There was less than a year’s difference between the two of them taking human shape—but just look at the difference in growth rates. 
“But how come you’re the younger sister, even though you became human first? How’s all of that work?” 
“Um?” 
“No, I mean… Let’s pick up that topic once we have Alas Ramus back. So I guess that means Nord was in Japan a lot quicker than I thought, then.” 
“Ooh, yes, I think.” 
That was probably why less-than-native Japanese was the only language Acieth was capable of speaking. 
“Man, what a pain.” 
“What is the pain?” 
“Mmm…” Maou nodded, approving of the job they had done getting the tent back in shape. “Once this is all over, I think we’re all gonna have to sit down and have one heck of a family conference.” 
“Family what?” 
“I’ll explain once we get to it. What’s taking Suzuno so long? Did a bear swipe at her or…” 
“No bear can defeat me!” 
“Whoa!” Maou jumped in the air, shocked at the voice from behind. “Wh-what the heck? If you were back, say so, man!” 
“It is your fault for leaving your back unprotected. I have often felt that you are greatly underestimating my powers, Devil— What is it?” 
Maou had fallen silent, mesmerized by Suzuno’s peevish state. It put her further off. 
“Do you have some issue with my clothing again?” 
“N-no, of course not…” 
Maou frantically shook his head. 
“It’s just that…that’s how you look here, huh?” 
“What?” 
Maou’s surprise was, perhaps, justifiable. After completing her metamorphosis from her larval form, Suzuno had returned in an outfit quite unlike her usual kimono. She wore leather sandals, Church vestments that came down to her ankles, and a dark-red hooded overcoat. The clasp that kept the overcoat on her around the shoulders bore a jeweled motif—a holy-force amplifier, perhaps. 
Clad in this, Suzuno was no longer the loudmouthed, nagging neighbor in the apartment next door. She was Crestia Bell, leader of the Church’s Reconciliation Panel, and the majesty and mystery she now projected lived up to her title in every way. 
“This is the garb of the Church’s diplomatic and missionary arm. We have many monks and proselytizers working the lands of Efzahan, and the nature of my previous work means that few people would know my face. With this outfit, we would never arouse suspicion in any of the villages we— Why are you looking at me like that?” 
It was perhaps unfair to say, but while this holy garb would go perfect with a holy scripture or the like in her hands, pairing it with the deflated mummy-bag shell draped across her arms largely ruined the effect. 
“Did you just, like, molt or something?” 
“Maou, what is ‘molt’?” 
“Devil King… You dare compare me to a snake, or some lowly shellfish…?” 
“N-no, no! Stop picturing creepy animals like that! You’re a girl, aren’t you? You could’ve said ‘butterfly’ or something!” 
Suzuno gave him a blank, confused glare. 
“…Butterfly?” 
Then, as she digested what he meant, surprise spread across her countenance. 
“Y-you call me a butterfly? Well, of all the things a Devil King could ever…” 
“Um, Maou, what is ‘molt’?” Acieth interjected, still in larval form, before the flustered Suzuno could ask what he really meant. 
“Oh, um… So ‘molting’ is when a snake or a crab or something sheds the skin or shell it was living in and grows bigger. That, and butterflies and cicadas make what’s called a ‘cocoon’ that they grow inside of. By the time they come out of it, they’ve transformed into something completely different. That kind of thing.” 
“…Enough of this.” 
Suzuno sounded hurt, strangely enough, at Maou’s biology lecture. She began to roll up the sleeping bag in her hands. 
“Ooh, a butterfly? Boy! Suzuno is the beautiful molting!” 
“Mm? Mm. Well, perhaps, yes.” 
“Suzunooo!” Acieth raced up to her. “Maou said you are beautiful!” 
“Ah, did he? A pitiful joke of a Devil King, indeed,” Suzuno replied, taking a neutral, philosophical approach to it all. 
“Whoa, whoa, what’s that supposed to mean?” Maou said, feigning shock. “I’m being totally serious here. Like, didn’t Emi and Chi say as much to you at first? Your kimonos and stuff are fine and all, but you should try putting on something more modern. I think those robes look good on you.” 
“What…did you…?” 
Suzuno’s eyes opened wide, unprepared for this sudden bout of serious talk. 
“No, I mean, I just never see you in anything except kimonos, so it’s kind of fresh to me, is all. Regular clothing’s a lot easier to put on, though. Cheaper, too. I think it’d work on you.” 
“You, you, y-you think so…?” Suzuno stammered. 
“Huh?” A concerned Acieth turned to her. “What is wrong, Suzuno?” 
“To, to be honest, I was… I was at my clerical post for so long, I had grown rather used to these long, heavy robes. The shorter, more revealing articles of clothing Emilia and Chiho wear… I had my qualms about them, one could say. Even after I realized it was no longer the norm, I liked kimono because they resembled my vestments in all of the…dimensions, perhaps…but…” 
“Hmm?” Maou lent Suzuno an ear, as she nervously rolled up and unfurled the sleeping bag in her hands. 
“You think it…” 
“I think it…?” 
“Suzunooo! Your face is red—mng!” 
Suzuno shot a hand up to push the jaw of the intruding Acieth back into the shut position. She reflexively grabbed at the hem of her robe with the other one. 
“You think,” she softly warbled, “it would look…good…on me?” 
“Is that what you’re so worked up about?” 
Maou doubted it was Suzuno’s aversion to Western shirts and pants that made her act like this. He began to sweat a little, concerned he was overstepping his bounds. 
“No! Not that! I just… No one has…has ever said such a thing…before…” 
Her firm, resolved eyes, in a wholly unfamiliar show of weakness, began to waver. 
“Well, I think everyone got used to regular clothes pretty quick over there, but…yeah, I think they’d look good on you.” 
“De…Devil King, what is this nonsense you spout, out of nowhere…? Do not expect any rewards for your petty compliments…” 
“Mmph fpph rrrrrpmmpphhh!!” 
Unbeknownst to Maou, Suzuno had gradually been applying more and more force to Acieth’s jaw. It was wholly instinctive on her part, but enough to make Acieth voice her discomfort. 
“Well, it’s still the truth. Plus, Ashiya told me that as opposed to a kimono, you can just toss regular clothes into the washer as-is and it’s no problem.” 
“…Mmm?” 
“And, I mean, I buy a lot of stuff at UniClo, but you can find discount clothing stores in most shopping centers. And if you like something, you can buy a ton of it in the same pattern or size or whatever.” 
“…Mmmmmm?” 
“Pnngnngngnnh!” 
“I’ve never tried on a Japanese outfit before, but for someone living in our wage bracket, there’s no way we could keep ourselves going without the more modern stuff.” 
“…” 
“Plus, isn’t the thing with kimonos—like, you’re only allowed to wear certain kinds on certain seasons or occasions? You never have to worry about that with Western clothes, as long as you got the right type on. It couldn’t be easier. Try it.” 
“…Mm. Yes. Indeed.” 
“Hmm? What?” 
“…Nothing. Perhaps I caught a wild hair up my nose for a moment there. I think I shall meditate for a bit to expel these distractions from my mind.” 
“Pngh!” 
The ashen-faced Suzuno finally released her grip on Acieth. 
“Oh? Um, did I say something bad?” 
“You did,” she boomed as she made for her tent. “You misled my heart and nearly led me over the cliff. Truly, the whisperings of the devil.” 
It took this long for Maou to realize that he had offended Suzuno, somehow or another. “Oh,” he attempted. “But, um, hey, I do mean it when I said, y’know, it might look good, okay?” 
“…” Suzuno stopped, like the words had bolted her to the ground. “I…I refuse to be deceived!!” she shouted, turning her reddened face toward him for only a moment as she burrowed into the tent Maou put up for her. (They had previously decided, after a long struggle, to divide the tents by gender.) 
“Huh. Guess I did say something bad.” 
It looked to Maou like Suzuno was flailing around inside her tent. He brought a hand to his head. 
“Oooh, thag hurrgh,” the teary-eyed Acieth groaned as she rubbed her own reddened cheeks. “Suzunooo! What do you doing?!” Then, still in larval form, she squirmed her way into the maelstrom going on inside the tent, the very picture of foolish bravery. 
“…Great. Well, guess I’ll get things ready for bed, too.” 
They were planning to discuss how they would trade watch duties after dinner, but levelheaded conversation was no longer on the menu for tonight. 
“This sure doesn’t bode well,” Maou sighed, scoping out the stars that lit up the Ente Islan sky. 
 
“We went through a lot more gas than I thought… Think we can reach Heavensky like this?” 
It was mid-afternoon on the third day of their jaunt through Efzahan, and at a village tavern they had stopped by, Maou was sizing up Suzuno on the other side of the table. 
“Our detour this morning cost us dearly, indeed. I was not expecting to all but run into a Regal Crimson patrol. We were going fast, and the roads were poor.” 
The fuel gauges on both of their scooters were one tick away from the “E” mark. They had extra gasoline with them, but considering the lack of flat, well-maintained asphalt roads in Ente Isla, they didn’t have much wiggle room to work with. Food and water were not an issue, as long as they had access to the village they were currently in, but there was no hope of finding a gas station on this planet. That was the bottleneck. 
“We will need to pick our roads a tad more carefully.” 
Suzuno spread Ashiya’s hand-drawn map of Efzahan out on the table. 
“However, it is also true that we are approaching Heavensky far more quickly than scheduled. If possible…I would like to reach this village by sundown. We are more likely to encounter Eight Scarves men the closer we come to the palace, but I would like to stay on our scooters for as close as we can bear to reach.” 
“Yeah.” 
For once, they agreed on something. As long as they had gas to feed them, they wanted to hang on to their scooters. 
“…Not that I should talk, by the way, but things seem pretty peaceful around here. Looks like they’ve rebuilt a ton of stuff already. I thought it’d be a little rougher around the edges, still.” 
“No, you should not talk, indeed. But I had noticed that myself. Let me ask you, Devil King: How strong a force is this Malebranche within the demon realms?” 
“How strong a force? Well, they certainly numbered a lot, is about all I can tell you. When I sent my army to invade the islands, the forces to the north, east, and west were a pretty even mix of races, but I’d say about eighty percent of the force Malacoda led to the Southern Island were Malebranche. Emi and the humans killed most of ’em, I assume, but…” 
“Hmm. So rather few of them remain under the rule of Camio?” 
“I can’t give you concrete numbers. It’s not like we had a census bureau.” 
Suzuno nodded as though Maoh’s words were backed up by some theory in her head. “Actually,” she said, “I was of the same mind as you. This land is peaceful—recovering. By which, I do not mean to say that your army’s carnage has been wiped away by time. I mean to say that, considering the Malebranche have infiltrated the imperial government and declared war on the entire world, it hardly seems like a nation in wartime. I sense nothing in the way of demons near us, despite the fact our map puts us squarely within jurisdiction of the Efzahan capital.” 
“…That’s a good point,” Maou realized out loud. “Considering all the BS Ciriatto and Farfarello and Libicocco gave us, you’d think the demons would be throwing their weight around a little more.” 
“Indeed. And I do not like it. Especially now that I have seen what the angels are for myself—Gabriel, in particular. It sticks in my craw.” 
“…You said it.” 
It struck Maou as odd, too. If it weren’t for Gabriel whisking Ashiya and Nord away, their understanding of Emi’s disappearance and the political situation on Ente Isla would have remained rudimentary at best. As far as they knew, Olba had convinced Barbariccia and his second Devil King’s Army to turn Efzahan into a puppet regime so they could declare war on the world—a second ploy by the demons to conquer the human world anew. But now, several angels had become involved—and both they and the demons had used Efzahan’s military to take Ashiya and Nord away. Maou began to suspect that little was as it seemed around here. 
“We had best examine the people of this land a tad more,” Suzuno suggested, “if we wish to come closer to the truth.” 
“Yeah. It’s not exactly bustling around here, but it’s not like we’re being subject to invasion or anything.” 
The two of them looked out a nearby window to the village’s main street. 
According to Ashiya’s map, the village they arrived at after camouflaging their scooters in some high brush was named Honpha. It seemed fairly humble at first sight but enjoyed a decently sized population nonetheless. Its security was handled by the Knights of the Inlain Crimson Scarves, each one of their ranks bearing a red wristband bordered in white. They spied a few of them here and there on the streets. 
“Maou, can I have more? This is yummy!” 
“…I’m glad you’re enjoying this.” 
As he and Suzuno assessed the situation, Acieth had been silently nibbling away at his side. Before he knew it, she had scarfed down a sizable basketful of bread. There was an empty bowl and plate in her hand—they formerly held some chicken-and-vegetable soup and freshwater fish done up in a pie with breadcrumbs, apparently a local favorite—and she was already showing them to the nearby tavern keeper. The Eastern Island enjoyed a surplus of water, much of it as pure as one would find in Japan; maybe that was why they were all enjoying the local food scene so much after spending so long over on Earth. 
“You okay with seconds for her, Suzuno?” 
He didn’t have the authority to allow it by himself. Suzuno, after all, was Maou and Acieth’s sole source of economic support here on Ente Isla. She had yet to bandy around words like “debt” and “interest,” the kind of thing that struck fear in the Devil King’s very heart, but treating Suzuno like an ATM was bound to have consequences later. In fact, to Maou, who had to keep a whole family (of sorts) fed on his own salary, being wholly dependent like this made him feel miserable. Like a plaything, as he put it. 
“That is fine. Would you like another one of those fish pies? I was just thinking I would like to try a bit more of those udon-like noodles they had. <Madam! One more of those freshwater-fish pies, and another bowl of stew for the girl, please. Myself, I’d like to have some more of that rice-noodle soup, and if you have a recommendation for a nice after-meal liquor, I’d love to see it.>” 
Suzuno’s gifts in Yahwan, the official language of Efzahan, were commendable. Her missionary experience preceded her. 
“<My, I’m glad you’re enjoying it,>” beamed the tavern keeper, a burly-looking middle-aged woman. “<Fair to say I wouldn’t have the sort o’ hooch a Church minister would favor much, though.>” 
“Wait, did you just order liquor, Suzuno? You could get probation for DUI, man!” 
Having personally dominated the lives of its native speakers in the past, Maou had at least a passing knowledge of Yahwan. 
“Oh, shut up,” Suzuno replied, expecting this. “I am not looking to drink it.” 
“<We’ll be bakin’ up a new pie for you right shortly. Want somethin’ to drink in the meantime? This is about all we got, I’m afraid.>” 
The woman came back with two bottles of fruit-flavored distilled liquor of some sort. Suzuno checked the labels, then nodded. 
“<I see your distribution channels are healthy as always.>” 
“<Beg pardon?>” 
“<You brought those out because you knew I was a Western Islander, no? Both of those hail from there.>” 
Suzuno looked up at the quizzical tavern keeper. 
“<If I could ask you a question… Is it true, the rumors I have heard about Heavensky? That it has fallen under demon rule again?>” 
The tavern keeper’s face tightened a bit, conflicted. “<Well,>” she offered, “<if it’s a yes-or-no question, then ‘yes’ wins the day, it does.>” 
It was odd, though. To Suzuno’s ears, it sounded as though the keeper wasn’t afraid of this terrifying development so much as she was doubtful of it. 
“<’Course, if you’re askin’ whether anything much has changed as a result, then it sure hasn’t, no. We were all runnin’ around like chickens with their heads cut off at first, mind ya. Thought it’d be the Great Demon General Alciel all over again.>” 
The keeper took a look around, ensuring she had no waiting customers, then brought her face closer to Suzuno’s. 
“<And, you know, I’ll be happy to tell a Westie like you, but to simple folk like us, whether it’s Alciel or the Azure Emperor…why, it hardly makes a lick of difference to most of us.>” 
“<I see.>” 
“Is this talk about hard things? I want fish pie!” 
“It’ll be here soon,” Maou barked at Acieth. “Be quiet for a sec.” 
“<Not to spit on the graves of all the knights who died under Alciel’s boot, mind. But eastern Efzahan was in a state of civil war long before he showed up. And every few years, the Emperor would draft us common folk to build these high-and-mighty public works projects to make Heavensky a more majestic city or whatnot. Those things are death traps for too many of those unlucky saps, they are.>” 
“<…Is that what happened?>” 
“<Now, with a human ruler, at least we speak the same language. I wouldn’t mind those ugly demons out of here tomorrow, if I could make it happen…but after Emilia the Hero drove Alciel out of here, it kinda made it all the more obvious to us. Whether it’s Alciel or the Azure Emperor, we’re gonna get exploited one way or the other. All there is to it. Oh, but look at me, talking about all these dreary matters…>” 
“<No, no. I was the one who brought it up. I apologize.>” 
“<Oh, not at all. It’s all true, though. You’ve traveled a long way, Minister—you deserve to know what’s goin’ on. Why, once those demon armies marched into Heavensky, there’s really only one thing that’s changed, and that’s how much the Eight Scarves have grown in size. That and the war talk, I s’pose.>” 
“Maooouuu, come onnnnn… Where is steewwwww…?” 
“…I’ll give you mine, too, okay? Just shut up.” 
“<They’ve expanded the knight corps?>” 
“<Oh, have they! Funny thing, no? The Eight Scarves was the first thing Alciel targeted for cuts, in fact. Now, this is just a rumor, but some folks’re even saying that the Emperor forged a voluntary pact with the demons, just so he could satisfy his urge to conquer more land for ’imself. Alciel did a lot to weaken us, but with these demons, we’ve seen more money spent on distribution, on production, on armaments… You can see why a lot of us are a bit dubious about it all, eh?>” 
Suzuno, face tensed, looked down at Ashiya’s map. “<I see what you mean… Thank you for the valuable lesson. Could I ask one more thing of you?>” 
“<What’s that?>” 
Suzuno turned the full strength of her eyes upon the tavern keeper. “<Have you heard anything about angels appearing in Heavensky?>” 
The keeper gave her an incredulous look. “<Angels? You mean the ones your scripture talks all about?>” She let out a nervous chuckle. “<Well, I s’pose there must be angels out there if there’re demons, but I sure haven’t heard talk of that!>” 
“<…Ah. Certainly.>” 
Maou and Suzuno gave each other troubled looks. The populace might be aware of the demons’ presence, but the angels’ behind-the-scenes machinations were still far from common knowledge. 
“<Well, that little girl looks like she can’t hardly wait any longer for some grub, eh? That pie should be done by now. Did you have anything else you wanted to ask?>” 
“<Um, no, that is all. Thank you. I appreciate it.>” 
“<Ah, it’s fine, it’s fine… Well, also…>” 
The keeper fell uncharacteristically silent, wavering over whether to continue. Suzuno nodded at her. “<It is fine,>” she said. “<By my honor, I promise I will not tell anyone else about what you told us, good tavern keeper.>” 
“<I would certainly appreciate that, yes,>” the woman replied. She seemed a mite relieved, but then she anxiously looked at Maou. 
“<Do not fret. This is my attendant, a devout follower of the Church faith. He fully understands the sanctity of a confessional.>” 
“…Dude.” 
Maou had no intention of interfering with their chat, but he still used his wide-open eyes to semi-voice his discomfort at this hasty excuse. 
“Who’s an attendant of whom, huh?” 
Maou was still protesting the afternoon’s events inside forested land seven or eight miles from Honpha, nearby a marsh. 
“You took that seriously?” Suzuno coolly replied. “I would think you would understand how that smoothed over the conversation for both sides. I will remind you that I am bankrolling nearly this entire expedition. Allow me to say what I like, at least.” 
“Gehh…” 
Maou had no response to that. Suzuno smiled at him as he silently squirmed. 
“I do not intend to joke about this, though. If Alciel’s map is correct, we will no longer be able to avoid settled lands before reaching Heavensky. If we started to be examined more closely by the authorities, it would be easiest for all of us if you and Acieth pose as the hired attendants of a missionary cleric.” 
“Yeah… The question is whether she’ll hold up her end of the bargain. Better roll her back inside if she starts actin’ up. Don’t wanna treat her like I own her or anything, but…” 
Maou looked over to the larva sleeping soundly in her bag by the campfire, stomach full after purchasing several more freshwater-fish pies to go from the tavern keeper. 
“We can consider the matter after half a day’s drive tomorrow,” Suzuno replied, looking at Ashiya’s map. “I would like to bring our scooters as close to Heavensky as possible, but if worse comes to worst, we may need to abandon them somewhere.” 
Maou flew to his feet. “What? No!” 
“What do you want from me? The closer we travel to the capital, the more likely we are to be exposed. We have to avoid being conspicuous…” 
“But I was just getting used to driving my Mobile Dullahan III! I can’t just abandon my mount after that!” 
“…What is the meaning of that ‘mobile’ whatnot?” 
Suzuno knew Maou well enough. She all but expected that he would give his scooter a nonsensical name sooner or later. 
“It is fine and well that you have an affection for it, but that could inadvertently put Emilia’s life on the line. I have full ownership over both scooters, and I make the final call on what we do with them.” 
“Nnnnngh…” 
“By the way, I was wondering… Why do you name whatever you are riding at the moment ‘Dullahan’?” 
“Huh?” 
“The dullahan is a creature that appears in Earth’s mythology, is it not? A headless horse pulling a chariot with a headless warrior on it?” 
“Oh, you know that?” 
“Indeed. And I have never heard of such a presence among the demons who invaded Ente Isla. Perhaps I am simply not aware of it, but…” 
“Nah. There’s nothing like what gets called ‘dullahan’ on Earth in my realms. It’d be kinda weird if someone could carry his head around under one arm and still stay, like, living, y’know?” 
“Like you are one to… Ah, but enough of that. Why Dullahan?” 
“Well, there’s nothin’ deep to it…” Maou shrugged. “I mean, before I made it to MgRonald, me and Ashiya kinda got fired from a couple of part-time jobs.” 
“Did you now!” Suzuno exclaimed. By the time she had arrived on Earth, he and all his demon compatriots, along with Emi, were indistinguishable from any other Japanese person on the street. She had assumed they were comfortable from the very beginning. 
“Yeah, uh, sometimes companies would go outta business on us, so it wasn’t entirely our fault. But before me and Ashiya divvied up our duties between work, chores, and research, I can think of at least two I got booted out of.” 
He made it sound as though he was reciting bitter memories of harrowing times. For a native Ente Islan, the idea that being laid off was the worst thing to ever happen to the Devil King’s life was rather hard to swallow. 
“So I started working at MgRonald after that, and once Chi signed on, she told me about someplace that sold bicycles for cheap. So I bought one of those and a coupla other big things. That wound up whittling our savings down to practically nothing. Man, Ashiya was pissed.” 
Suzuno wasn’t around to witness it. But she could easily picture it. 
“But that would really suck, wouldn’t it? Like, if I bought too much and got fired without any savings to fall back on?” 
“Certainly, but… Wait! No!” 
Suzuno gasped, conjecturing the worst. 
“So I kinda put a prayer on the bike,” Maou continued, flashing an embarrassed smile. “So I wouldn’t get fired again. The dullahan’s got his head cut off, right? I didn’t want to lose my head at the workplace any longer, so that’s how the name stuck.” 
Suzuno, unable to look at him any longer, cradled her head with one hand. 
“…Just awful.” 
“Oh, come on! You’re the one who asked! What’re you laughing about?” 
She was. Her face was still covered in her hand, but softly, deep down in her throat, she was giggling. 
“…Hee-hee-hee… You could have at least lied and said you named it ‘Dullahan’ because it sounded nice and demonic to you… Ha-ha-ha-ha!” 
“That would just make me look like some preteen fantasy nerd!” 
“…Ahhh, what a laugh. I do look forward to telling Emilia and Chiho about this shortly.” 
“Hey, no! Don’t, man! Chi’s one thing, but Emi’s gonna torment me for the rest of my life if you tell her!” 
“And how dearly I would love seeing that in person! The Hero, berating the Devil King for giving prayers to household objects!” 
“Oh, goddammit!” 
Maou turned his back to her, face flushed. It made him miss what Suzuno whispered next. 
“Indeed…I would love to be there for it. To see it happen, on and on.” 
“Huh? What was that?” 
“Nothing. There is nothing to be so worked up about. It just seems so…human of you. Laughably so.” 
“Will you shut up already?! Stop making fun of me!” 
Now Maou was fully angry. His back was completely to the fire now as he tossed the stick he was using to prod the embers deep into the darkness. Suzuno found something oddly lovable about the sight. Then she picked up Ashiya’s sheaf of papers again. 
“Devil King.” 
“Whaaat?!” 
“…Why did you come to Ente Isla?” 
“Huhh?” 
Maou’s face, on the dark side of their little campfire circle, twisted a bit. Suzuno could see it. 
“I am not talking about now. Before you drifted to Japan. When you, Alciel, and Lucifer attempted to conquer the five islands of Ente Isla.” 
“Oh, back to that right now? I thought I told you long ago. I wanted to rule over Ente—” 
“That is why I am asking.” Suzuno played back in her head the conversation with Chiho. “Why did you want to rule over it? Because I had thought you wanted to annihilate the human race…but ruling over something and annihilating it are two very different things. It is clear to me that Alciel ruled over Efzahan with an even, educated hand—that much I can tell from the way he practically memorized this nation’s geography and its norms. But why?” 
“…” 
“You yourself asked me once—if I truly cared for Chiho’s safety, why wouldn’t I immediately erase her memory? Well, allow me to return the question to you: Why do you insist upon having Chiho by your side?” 
“You’re making it sound like I’m some bad guy stalking her or something.” 
“You never respond to Chiho’s boundless courage. She fully accepts you, warts and all, and you string her along, and along, and along, never providing an answer. The very epitome of a ‘bad guy’!” 
“I…I’m not trying to do that, but…” 
Maou let out an anguished groan. It was all Suzuno’s fault, of course. She just had to be there when Chiho decided to reveal her feelings to him. 
“The way you have been acting as of late is a complete mystery to me. And by ‘you,’ I do not mean Sadao Maou. I mean Satan, the Devil King.” 
Suzuno sighed softly, staring into the campfire. 
“At first, I was all but convinced that your life as ‘Sadao Maou’ in Japan was a ruse, a cover for the Devil King’s latest upcoming conspiracy. I was certain you continued to see humans as beneath you. That you would betray them, hurt them, the moment you were given a chance.” 
“Well, geez, that’s mean. Though I s’pose most demons would take it as a compliment…” 
“But that simply fails to mesh with reality. You fully adhere to the law of the land; you play everything fair and square; you maintain healthy relationships with your boss and coworkers and neighbors; you show nothing but respect for the very species you attempted to subjugate not long ago. And you are not the only one—Alciel and Lucifer are just as worthy of praise.” 
“Uh, has Urushihara talked to any of our neighbors before?” 
“He has a rather close relationship with the Sasuke Express deliveryman by now, I would assume.” 
“Oh, for Pete’s sake…” 
Maou rolled his eyes. He suspected it all along—while he and Ashiya were away, Urushihara was still buying random crap off the Internet. How nice of Suzuno not to tell him. 
“And yet all of you, to a man, remain adamant that someday you will conquer Ente Isla once more. You maintain that, yet you seem to bear no particular ill will toward Emilia, the woman who is by far the greatest obstacle between you and that goal. Even when I revealed myself to you, your reaction was more bemused than hostile. So does that mean…” 
With a grunt, Suzuno stood up, staring down Maou—even though his back was still turned to the fire. 
“Does that mean there is some benefit to all of you? In having myself, and Emilia, and Chiho close by?” 
“Sure. To our finances, yeah. Adds a lot more variety to our diet, too. It’s gravy all the way.” 
“You have transformed back into your full demonic self several times since traveling to Earth. Why have you never returned before now? Why have you never tried to eliminate us? Why do you remain ‘Sadao Maou,’ law-abiding citizen of Japan?” 
“…” 
“This journey of ours—would it not be the greatest chance you’ve gained yet to destroy us? You should have enough force to overpower even the archangels at this point. You have Alciel close by, as well as a seemingly infinite army of loyal demons. You could have killed me anytime here on Ente Isla, forgotten all about Japan and Earth, and returned to your home realm. Emilia is no longer free to act. The humans here can no longer forge a united front against your forces. What better time to make your move?” 
“…You want me to do that?” 
“Of the Devil King Satan pictured by the populace of Ente Isla,” Suzuno bluntly replied, “I would expect nothing else. But instead here you are, with me, in this forest. You fear for Emilia’s safety; you took action to calm Rika’s nerves; you promised Chiho you would return to Japan; and you asked Amane to keep the land safe in your absence.” 
“Fear for her…? Nothing as big as that, really…” 
Suzuno sighed again. Maou must’ve already forgotten what he’d blurted out inside his apartment before they’d left. 
“If you add it all up, it looks to me that you say one thing, yet act the exact opposite. But over the past few weeks, I’ve come to formulate a theory. A theory that, assuming I am right, explains everything about your inexplicable behavior.” 
“…Can you knock this off? This ain’t a science lab. Save your theories for someone else.” 
Suzuno ignored him. 
“Devil King Satan.” 
“I said…” 
Her voiced softened. 
“Nothing has ever changed in you from the beginning, has it?” 
“Knock it off…” 
“Truly, Chiho is wise beyond her years. Or perhaps being exposed to you with no previous knowledge let her see what I could not. Devil King, you—” 
“Ahhhhh, shut up!” Maou shouted, covering his ears. “I don’t wanna heeeaaarrr it! Ahhh, la-la-la-laaa-la-la-laaa…!” 
Suzuno’s cold eyes easily bore through the interference. 
“You… You were always a kind, sober-minded man. Almost strangely so, considering your demonic birth.” 
The sound of popping kindling from the fire echoed through the forest, almost interrupting her revelation. 
“…Are you listening to yourself?” Maou countered. “You’re embarrassing me.” 
“I am simply repeating what Chiho has said all along,” Suzuno flatly stated. “She knows you are the Devil King of an alien world, but she never doubted your nature for a moment. Love may be blind, but in Chiho’s case it seems to have only further sharpened her perception.” 
Maou found himself at a loss for words again. 
“And there is something else she noticed. Something neither I, nor Emilia, nor anyone on Ente Isla could have seen.” 
Their small argument at the Shinjuku electronics store replayed itself again in her mind. He said it himself back there. 
“You are, at the core, a true king. One who leads the people of the demon realms.” 
“…Um, yeah?” Maou sulked, back still turned. “That’s part of my title. Devil King. What about it? And what’s my past got to do with right now, anyway? We’re both trying to get Emi and Ashiya back to Japan with us. What’s so bad about that?” 
“Everything.” 
“Why?!” 
“To put it simply, it worries me. You may decide to have my head any moment you wish. You may decide to betray me the moment we regroup with Alciel in Heavensky. There is certainly a non-zero chance you will seize that moment to launch a new Devil King’s Army.” 
“L-look, girl, aren’t you the one who’s saying one thing and doing the exact opposite right now?” 
“I have made a career out of suspecting others, remember.” 
“Shouldn’t a cleric believe in people a little more?” 
Maou glowered to himself, facing the dark forest before him. Behind him, Suzuno smiled softly. “Indeed,” she said, “they should. I may be a former inquisitor, but before that, I am still an acolyte of the Church… Oof.” 
“Whoa!” 
Maou turned around at the sensation of something pushing against his back. Perhaps a few inches below his eyes was the sight of Suzuno’s head lit by the fire. She was seated right behind him, back to back. 
“Wh-what the hell?” Maou protested, a bit offended at the invasion of space. 
“A Church minister,” Suzuno quietly began, “never reveals what is stated to them during confession.” Her voice was the picture of calmness. “This way, you will not need to see my face. If you like, you are free to tell me, O King of All Demons. Why did you lead your people on a conquest of Ente Isla?” 
“What has gotten into you tonight…?” Maou buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply. “Look, it’s not like I haven’t talked much about this to anyone because I have some grandiose dark secret I’m hiding or anything. It’s just that nobody asked me, in particular. That’s all.” 
He lowered his voice a level. 
“It’s gonna sound all too familiar to you humans, too. You’ve probably heard it a million times before. So don’t start whining if you think I’m just giving you a line, all right? I’m not treating this as some huge bare-my-soul thing for your sake.” 
“Very well. Duly noted.” 
“…Ugh. This is so stupid.” Maou let another sigh out into the forest, feeling the warmth touching his back. “Where should I start?” 
Then, as if recapping the past day’s work to his friend, he started to speak in a natural, relaxed voice. 

“I forget if I told you this before, but back when I was born, the demon realms were a real piece of shit. Violence was the only rule—if you were strong, you got to torment the weaker demons to death and bask in the gory results. That kinda place. I wanted to change all of that, so I started up an army. And once people like Camio and Alciel joined me, the ball really started rolling, y’know? And after a while, we had an actual civilization going. A kingdom, led by me. Got all that so far?” 
“Yes.” 
“So that pretty much put an end to the weaker demons being doomed to a life of torture, at least. We put together a formal system of demonic magic, too. That made the kingdom stronger, and a hell of a lot more efficient, too. But that whole time, there was something that neither I, Camio, nor Alciel ever picked up on.” 
Suzuno could sense Maou’s breathing quicken a little through her spine. 
“Like you know, demons can siphon off people’s fears and desperation to gain magical force. They can obtain the energy they need to survive that way. But my kingdom brought peace and order to the demon realms for probably the first time in ages. Fear and desperation gradually started to disappear, and that means the realms’ supply of demonic force started to dwindle pretty damn fast. It dwindled, but after unifying the realms, we had a population boom on our hands. You see what I’m getting at? The demon realms used to teem with dark energy, and I pretty much swept all of it away. It’s like it was just billowing away from the land, like smoke from a fire. We calculated that it probably couldn’t last us another five centuries. I didn’t know what the hell I was gonna do.” 
“…So you invaded Ente Isla? A rather shockingly logical motivation, that.” 
Maou couldn’t see Suzuno’s face, but from her voice he could tell he had her rapt attention. So he continued. 
“Invading another country to colonize it…to seize the natural resources you’ve used up in your homeland…that’s an all-too-typical motivation for war, isn’t it? Almost makes you laugh, not that I had anything to laugh about back then. My people followed me because they believed in me. They were freed from the curse of lethal violence meted out by their fellow demons. I couldn’t let them starve because I dropped the ball on my whole plan. So that’s why we went here.” 
“To ‘rule over’ Ente Isla?” Suzuno asked, choosing her words carefully. “Based on your appearance and your overwhelming power, we all assumed you were here to destroy us all. But you say that was not the case?” 
“Speaking of that, you think the humans could ever forgive me?” 
“That is not for me to say. I am here to listen to your confession, not to cast doubt upon your words.” 
He could tell she was smiling a little. 
“If we destroyed you all, it’d just be kicking the can down a few centuries. I already knew by then that humans live nowhere near as long as we do. If we exterminated the entire species, all we’d have were more demon mouths to feed in our new colony. So I figured we could rule over humanity by applying juuust the right amount of fear to their psyches. I strictly ordered my generals to show no mercy to those who defied them, but to fully accept the surrender of any human force that offered it. ’Course, how much they stuck to that order was another ball of wax…” 
“I see. Is that why you spared the nobility of Ente Isla?” 
Even before she arrived in Japan, Suzuno had known that some of the Great Demon Generals who ruled the islands had more of a reputation for cruelty than others. Beyond the Central Continent that played home to Devil’s Castle, it was the Southern and Western Islands that bore the brunt of human casualties; by comparison, the northern and eastern lands had it somewhat easier. The Church’s statistics spoke for themselves. 
“Yeah, I s’pose you know the rest. Emi started freeing each of the islands, I fled with whatever forces I had left, and I wound up in Japan. Really not that interesting, is it?” 
Suzuno smiled at how adamant Maou was that this was the most boring story in the world to him. “Oh, I would say otherwise,” she said. “It has taught me a great deal. Now I know that you are not so much different from a king as we humans define it. There is still something I fail to understand, though.” 
“Oh?” 
Maou turned around. Suzuno, by coincidence, apparently did the same, because their eyes came close to meeting dead-on. 
“What did you do after setting foot on Ente Isla?” 
“…Me?” 
Maou was puzzled. It wasn’t the question he was expecting—or, to put it another way, nobody around him had ever expressed interest in that before. 
“Indeed,” Suzuno replied. “You. You and your army ransacked Isla Centurum, the de facto capital of the Central Continent…and, truly, that was the last time I heard the name ‘Devil King Satan’ until your final battle with Emilia. Each of your four generals had their own invasion forces handling the other islands, yes? So I simply wondered—what were you doing, while the Devil King’s Army did their dirty work for you?” 
The campfire flickered in her eyes. 
“If you even so much as snicker, Suzuno, I’m shutting up.” 
“Well! Rather timid of you, no? Are you that uncertain about your past behavior?” 
“Of course I am,” came the curt reply. “I failed spectacularly in the end, remember? So anyway, I…I was conducting research. On humanity.” 
The voice was almost a whisper now. 
“They seemed so…strange to me. Humans had so many languages. They looked and acted so different from each other—not as much as demons, but still. But after they all got done fighting wars against each other, they kissed, made up, built new societies, and worked together to survive. It made me curious.” 
“…Hmm.” 
“If a demon from my realm encountered a wounded countryman lying on the road, it would be a blemish on his honor if he didn’t trample over him. With humans, though, you’d always find someone who’d try to help him, to make him feel better. I just wondered where that difference sprang from.” 
“I would hardly say every human is as virtuous as that.” 
“Yeah, but they aren’t all total assholes, either. That’s demons for you.” 
Another light sigh. Maou looked up at the sky. 
“I did a hell of a lot of things I’m embarrassed about now. Like, for example, I decorated my personal Devil’s Castle chamber to look like the kind of reception room you’d see in a human noble’s manor. I figured, hey, I’m gonna be the unquestioned ruler of the human world sooner or later, so I’ll need someplace where I could gather all the nobility together and make them pledge their oaths of fealty to me. That kind of BS.” 
“Hm. I wish I could have seen it.” 
“Oh, yeah, I would’ve loved to show off my personal room to a total stranger like you. But that wasn’t it. I took in and researched all kinds of stuff we salvaged from Isla Centurum—human language, human society, that kinda thing. That’s in part, of course, because I wanted to know more about who I’d be ruling over soon.” 
“And did it bear any fruit for you?” 
“No, and that’s why I’m working fast-food in Japan right now.” Maou shrugged. “But it’s always better to act on something instead of worry about it, y’know? Between invading Ente Isla and having my ass handed to me by Emilia, I spent nearly every day trying to figure out what made us different from the humans. Once I wound up in Japan, though, I had it all worked out in three days.” 
“What was it?” 
“It’s the simplest thing in the world. So simple, it just makes me want to laugh at this point.” 
Maou looked over at Acieth, blissfully sleeping nearby. 
“It’s whether you have to eat or not. Period.” 
Suzuno lifted her head to face Maou again. 
“Food?” 
“Yep.” 
He deeply nodded. He doubted he would ever forget his third night in Japan, when he fell asleep on the ground and then woke up staring at the ceiling of the hospital he was rushed to for dehydration and malnutrition. 
“We demons didn’t need to do anything to gain the dark force that kept us going. Sometimes demons devoured the corpses of their enemies, but that was more for their own amusement than anything else. There was no reason at all for us to eat anything. But humans can’t get away with that. No matter how rich you are, you can never live by yourself.” 
He turned to face Suzuno, deliberately this time. 
“I’m not talking in some kind of spiritual fashion, Suzuno. I just mean, you can live off your riches but it’s not like money’s the thing that directly keeps you alive. You turn money into food, and that’s what does it. With money, you can have some total stranger make you something good, something healthy; something you like. You want to eat, so you work to make money for it. That’s how all of human society works. It’s completely different at the core from how demons worked…and I had no idea the whole time.” 
“…Devil King?” 
“I had no idea…and that cost the lives of so…so many people who believed in me. I was so shallow. I thought I could rule over humanity through sheer force of demonic power.” 
His back shivered against Suzuno’s. 
“Wait. Are you…?” 
Suzuno attempted to turn around. Maou sidled his body to one side to stop her. 
“I’m not crying, man. You know who should be, though, are all the Devil King’s Army men who followed that idiot. That, and Emi and all the other humans who got killed or traumatized by that moron. I messed up. I was king, and I messed up.” 
He was bent over now, his back now feeling very small against Suzuno’s. The awe-inspiring force he wielded to crush both angel and demon after he breezed into the fray in Sasahata North High seemed like a long-forgotten lie. 
“And yet,” Suzuno offered in a whisper, “you still had to take action, no? Since you were king.” 
Maou shook again. 
“You had to balance the human world against your own people, did you not…Devil King?” 
She looked up, staring at the back of Satan, the Devil King. 
“What is the sin that bedevils your heart?” 
“My sin…” 
“Is it all the humans you killed, the Ente Islan land that you invaded?” 
“No,” Maou sharply replied. 
“So what is it?” Suzuno pressed. 
“It’s the way I…betrayed my believers. The way I led them to their deaths. How I made the wrong move as king.” 
“If that is what you regret, what must you do next?” 
“I…” Maou paused, letting each of Suzuno’s words settle into his stomach. “I need to keep living. Keep surviving as king, no matter what. Until the moment I’m not.” 
“Precisely.” 
Suzuno smiled, then slowly stood up and away from Maou’s back. She looked up at the starfield above, choosing to ignore the face of her confessor. 
“It is just as you say: A king must constantly strive to discover the path he deems to be just, as he leads his people. He must pull his people ever forward, until another, newer king takes his place. And you will become king of not only demons, but humanity as well, no?” 
“…Oh, right. This is a confession, huh?” 
Maou’s voice sounded about ready to break. Whether because he was laughing or crying, Suzuno couldn’t venture. 
“You think the god you worship’s willing to forgive a demon’s sins?” 
“I imagine not, strictly speaking. Certainly not a demon king’s, at least.” 
“Wow, thanks a lot,” Maou jabbed. “After all that, this is what you give me?” 
Suzuno flashed a calm smile and shook her head. 
“I, on the other hand, do forgive you.” 
“Suzuno?” 
Maou reflexively turned around. He found a robed figure slowly turning to meet his gaze. Her smile was among the gentlest sights he had ever seen. 
“Satan, ruler of demons…I have heard of your royal isolation, and of your royal sins. I recognize it all to be the holy truth, and by the name of Crestia Bell, my very own, your sins are now forgiven. Whether my god, or anyone else on this world, believes it or not…I am impressed you could tell me all of that.” 
Maou gaped at Suzuno for a moment. Then, regaining his senses, he winced. 
“Oh, come on! What the hell was all that about?! Did you put something in my fish pie this afternoon or something?!” 
“Perhaps. I am feeling rather…out of sorts at the moment myself.” Suzuno’s face, lit by the dancing light from the fire, looked ever so slightly flushed. “But it is a simple matter. I have already been saved multiple times by you—whether you meant to or not. I felt I needed to repay you for that, and also, quite likely…” 
“Wh-what?” 
“…No. Never mind.” She shook her head lightly, shaking off the tension, and stepped away from Maou, settling down at the other side of the fire. “If I went any further, I would simply be spouting nonsense. It would hardly do to throw the confessor into further confusion, and if it were to come out, we risk incurring the wrath of Chiho.” 
“Wh-why Chiho?” 
“…I can only imagine how much more anxiety it would put upon her.” Her voice seemed strained, but her face in the firelight was still smiling. “I have become quite the believer in Chiho, as of late. But enough of that. I do not have the conviction that Chiho does…or the bravery.” 
“Uh…huh.” Maou fell silent, befuddled and unsure of where to go from here. 
“…Devil King.” 
“…Now what is it?” 
It might have been his imagination, but there seemed to be a twinge of sadness to Suzuno’s face. 
“No matter what you may think, I swear by my pride as a Church cleric that I have accepted your story. I do not intend to relay it to anyone else. But…I think you should tell Emilia. When you—” 
“Forget it.” 
“—are prepared to…um?” 
“Emi’s the last person I’d tell.” 
Suzuno blinked. He sounded so decisive about it. 
“Like, how would that even be fair?” he said as he shook his head, his voice just as resolute. 
“Fair?” 
“One thing I’ve learned over the past few months of dealing with her,” Maou rattled off, “is that despite all that Hero crap, she’s got the mental toughness of a block of tofu. She’s just barely recovered now. If she starts up with that wayward-little-girl act again, it’s gonna drive me crazy.” He looked down, spitting the words out. “To Emi, I’m the king of the invaders who screwed up her life. And I’m fine with that.” 
“But that—” 
“Whether her dad’s alive or not, what I did robbed her of some of the best years of her life. I put her and the rest of the humans on the balance against my own kingdom’s people, and I chose my own kind.” 
The words came slowly, as he chewed over each one. 
“I don’t really care to dwell on what I did to her, I don’t want her to forgive me, and it’s not like I got any right to be forgiven, anyway. If I asked for it, she’d have no idea what to do. She’s already putting us through all this, besides…” 
“…Devil King, are you—” 
“This whole thing’s involving me, and Ashiya, and Alas Ramus and Acieth, and Nord, too. I appointed Emi one of my Great Demon Generals. I’m helping her because I have a responsibility to. That’s something totally different from Hero or Devil or whatever.” 
He gave Suzuno a rueful glare. 
“So even if we all get out of this in one piece, you know Emi’s probably gonna be all whiny about failing to live up to her…whatever. You think she’ll be in any shape to listen to my dumb old story, too? God, she’d never let me hear the end of it.” 
Suddenly coming to his feet, Maou turned his back to Suzuno and headed for his tent. 
“If she gets all sarcastic with me when she sees me here, fine. That’s perfect. Anything more than that, it’s gonna throw me off way too much.” 
“Devil King—” 
“…Oh, and that counts as part of my confession, too, okay?” he shouted as he crouched by the tent flap. “No telling anyone!!” Then, before any response could arrive, he crawled in and closed the entryway. 
Suzuno, without thinking about it, hugged her body. “…” 
The body that had felt Maou’s heat a moment ago. 
“How gentle do you have to be,” she said, a self-chiding smile on her face, “and yet how cruel…?” 
She looked up at the red and blue moons decorating the night sky. 
“Emilia… How are you planning to live, going forward?” 
“Mpph… Ham and melon…mhh…” 
Crestia Bell, a mere human, involved with only a tiny footnote of the massive demon battle that changed her world, found herself lost. There was no telling what lurked beyond the truth behind that war. 
“Shrimp-chili dumplings… Sunny-side-up egg and toast…” 
“I doubt you have ever eaten those things before, have you?” 
That was why the night babblings of the innocent little larva, so honest and faithful to her urges, were just the coolant Suzuno needed to calm her soul. 
“For that matter…what will happen to me, going forward?” 
She felt the speed of her pulse as she kept her arms close to herself, and sighed once more. 
 
The surrender of the trade city of Gwenvan was nigh. 
Under the banner of the Hero Emilia’s return, the Eight Scarves army that rode from Phaigan—now known to the world as the “Phaigan Volunteer Force”—had begun to battle against the Malebranche forces controlling the lands west of Heavensky. They had seized the initiative, conquering town after town under the control of the Malebranche officers who formed the New Devil King’s Army upper brass, and now they were at Gwenvan, second only to Heavensky in size. 
The volunteers had the clear upper hand. As a city of commerce, Gwenvan had no stout city walls or defensive installations. The wide road that led inside easily allowed a large force to travel across it. What foolish Malebranche fighters dared to remain were wiped out momentarily. Soon Scarmiglione, the demons’ chief in Gwenvan, was cornered. 
“Reporting! The Inlain Crimsons on the front lines are engaging the enemy leader! Battle is underway!” 
Emi immediately rose to her feet at the report from the harried soldier who had burst into the volunteer force’s camp. 
“I’m going out,” she said. “Their chief will be dozens of times more powerful than his foot soldiers. It’ll take more than a few halfhearted swipes to beat him.” 
She was about to leave the camp—equipped not with the Better Half, but the ornate sword Olba gave her—when a voice stopped her. 
“No need.” 
Emi turned around and glared at Olba, who was serving as one of the camp’s staff officers. “Olba,” she barked, “do you want the blood of the Eight Scarves knights on your hands? This will be over in the blink of an eye when I reach him.” 
“Indeed it would be, I suppose. But it is not the role of a general to simply stroll into battle at the drop of a hat. If we were struggling, that would be one thing, but the general appearing when we have such a clear advantage is far from advisable. It could even damage our soldiers’ morale.” 
“…But!” Emi trembled, the grip of the sword in her hand. 
“Emilia, you are both the supreme commander of this volunteer force and its most powerful symbol. Please do not engage in such rash behavior. That courage of yours is instilling all of us here with the will to go on.” 
“Gnh…” 
Emi sized up the Eight Scarves generals stationed in the camp, the ones who traveled with her from Phaigan. They greeted her eyes with hope and bravery, unaware of what she held in her heart. 
“Can I at least provide some advice, then? Victory is ours—that much is sure enough. There’s no need to sacrifice any more than we must by now. We need to ask the Malebranche forces for their surrender. We seek to free the town of Gwenvan, not commit a massacre of…” 
It was a faint hope Emi clung to as she pieced the words together. Unexpectedly, the suggestion seemed to surprise Olba. “Emilia,” he exclaimed, “are you telling us to let the demons live?!” 
“I…was…” 
All eyes in the camp were on Emi. She failed to form an immediate reply. And before she could figure out why, another messenger stormed into the camp. 
“I have an urgent Idea Link report from the front!” 
It had been less than five minutes since the last message, but the pale grin on this soldier made Emi emit a desperate gasp. 
“Reporting from our frontline force! After fierce combat with the Malebranche leader, our forces have successfully defeated him! The leader’s death has been confirmed!! The city of Gwenvan is free!!” 
“Nnngh!!” 
Emi’s face couldn’t have been more tightly wound. None of the generals around her, overcome with joy and relief, managed to notice. The jubilant words the messenger brought to the camp were exactly what Emi feared the worst. 
“It… It’s just another demon gone… Another enemy of mankind.” 
As the frenzied celebrations began across Gwenvan, Emi sat in the officers’ conference room in the camp. She was bent over, clutching her knees. 
“It… They’re just getting what’s coming to them. The demon stragglers who tried to follow in the footsteps of the Devil King’s Army… The horrid demons we have to kill… It’s just another one down.” 
There was no color to her voice, no sense of human emotion. It was like she was reading the words from a slip of paper. 
“The demons are…our enemies. My—Ente Isla’s enemy. If we eradicate them, we’ll have peace in the world…” 
“What…do you think the ‘demons’ truly are?” 
“Ngh…” 
She shivered at the voice coming from inside. She balled herself up even more tightly, shrinking at the weight she felt pushing down upon her. 
“The enemy. Our enemies. The enemy of mankind. The fearsome foes that threaten our way of life…” 
“It is like the Malebranche, back on that very day. Those foolish Malebranche leaders, who believed every word of it when I told them they could gain revenge against the foe who slew the Devil King and his generals.” 
“Nnh!!” 
Emi grabbed her head, groaning. She should have known the whole time. For the past year or so, she had seen mankind and demonkind from a completely different perspective. 
“Why…? That demon is dead, and why am I so…?” 
She couldn’t bring herself to say that the enemy had their own motivations. She was lost, certainly, but she still had enough confidence to state that Maou and his demons were enemies to her. And yet her guilt at the death of a single anonymous Malebranche leader racked her with torment. 
If the Malebranche hadn’t been defeated here, Gwenvan would be under demon control forever. They were freeing the people of Gwenvan from them. It should have been the right thing to do. 
“…Mommy?” 
Emi’s heart was so exhausted with emotion that not even Alas Ramus could reach it, inside. She listlessly stood up, none of the feelings swirling within her resolved at all, and returned to the canopy bed prepared specially for her. She threw herself in, not bothering to remove her armor, and then began to sleep the sleep of the dead. 
Alas Ramus materialized next to her, looked at the pained face of the sleeping Emi. She gently patted the cheek of her thoroughly spent mommy. 
“Oo?” 
Suddenly, the child felt something near—something familiar. 
“Who’s there?” 
But it was for just a moment, and just as quickly it disappeared into thin air, like a grain of sand in the desert. It was still enough to make Alas Ramus bring a hand to her forehead and sit up in the darkness for a while, eyes darting around the room. 
 
“Ooh, man, what a mess.” 
“…” 
“You heard me, didn’t you? I tried to stop ’em.” 
“…” 
“Hey, um, can we try to make this more of a back-and-forth kinda thing? It’s not like we’re strangers, yeah?” 
“…What are you trying to do?” 
“Ooh, he speaks!” 
The Azure Emperor of the great land of Efzahan would normally be sitting there, on the throne that gilded his vast main chamber in Heavensky Keep. Instead, the chamber was chiefly populated by piles of bodies—the bodies of the so-called elites of the Eight Scarves. Their adversary was watching over them. 
“Well, Ashiya? Or would you prefer ‘Great Demon General Alciel’ for old times’ sake? How d’you like Heavensky Keep’s throne room?” 
“…It disgusts me.” 
Alciel’s forked tail twitched in the air distractedly as he sat atop the throne, dolefully glaring at Gabriel gleefully leaning against a column near the entrance. Even with the ripped-up pieces of cheap UniClo clothing still stuck to his body, he yet struck a fearsome presence. 
“Archangel Gabriel…what are you trying to do?” 
“Me? Oh, nothin’. You remember from back in Japan about how we angels aren’t sidin’ with the humans, right?” 
He flung his arms open wide in a feigned show of joy. 
“Besides, just look! You’re finally back in Ente Isla! All your demonic force is back! All those days of scoping out supermarkets to find the cheapest box of laundry detergent are behind you now! Isn’t it lovely?” 
No reaction. 
“…All right, all right. I’ll quit with the jokes. Eesh. Tough crowd.” 
“…This is truly Heavensky?” 
“Mm-hmm. Wanna see?” 
“Hmph.” 
Alciel stood from the throne and walked past Gabriel. As if following him down the aisle, the fallen knights began to wail at him. 
“Nn…hhh…” 
“Oh, will you guys grow a pair? I thought y’all were supposed to be the baddest hombres Efzahan could dish out, yeah? I told you he was too much for you guys to handle, but then y’all freaked out so much over his transformation that I didn’t have time to stop you… Hey, thanks for not killing ’em, at least!” 
“…They have no value dead,” Alciel called out from the throne room’s balcony. “It would be meaningless.” 
The sight of Ashiya regaining his original form as Alciel had sent the Eight Scarves knights guarding him into a frenzied panic. The demon showed no particular sign of attacking them, but the knights had stepped up to subdue him anyway. This was the result. 

The sight of Efzahan’s capital spread out beneath his vantage point did nothing to change Alciel’s expression. He turned around, only to find Gabriel foolishly grinning at him. 
“What kind of role are you attempting to push on me here?” 
“Oh! Figured it out?” 
“Emilia’s father’s presence in that apartment was sheer coincidence. Hatching a distraction in Chiho Sasaki’s school would naturally cause Bell to rush to the scene. Thus, I was your only feasible target.” 
“Mmm? What about Lucifer and Satan?” 
“If you wanted them, you would have appeared when they were present. You are hardly so tactless that you’d strike without making sure your target was there.” 
“Ha-ha! Okay, fair ’nuff. Your role here’s pretty simple, actually: Just sit back on that throne and stretch your legs out. Take a load off! Everyone else’ll take care of the rest.” 
“…” 
Alciel fixated his eyes upon Gabriel’s frivolous grin. Then he closed them. 
“This is ridiculous.” 
“Hmm?” 
“Why, in that case, did you show me the scene outside?” 
“Oh, was that a problem?” 
“If the role you envisioned for me was just to keep that seat warm for you, Gabriel, you would have never let me see Heavensky. This…Heavensky, almost completely bereft of Malebranche.” 
“…Ooooh.” 
His reaction was trivial as always, but Gabriel’s expression suddenly grew far more serious. 
“In fact, you should never have shown yourself to me in the first place, now should you? The kidnapping should have been carried out strictly by the Malebranche and the humans, no?” 
“Uh, if you don’t mind my asking, what makes you say that?” 
“It is simple. Not even all the Malebranche leaders in a unified team could ever hope to scratch you. And I know you are not the noble, pure-hearted demigods praised to no end by the humans’ scripture. With you in the picture, it is easy to imagine that this is all the work of heaven afoot. Olba Meiyer, Barbariccia—they are all here now, and it is thanks to your sweet words cajoling them so. Am I wrong?” 
Gabriel kept watching him. 
“Now that I see this angel is present, I realize that the Malebranche forming a new Devil King’s Army and the Malebranche-supported Efzahan waging war against the world are nothing more than a cover. Your true mission is hidden behind all of that. That is why you should never have revealed yourself.” 
“Hmmm… Well, hell, if you put it that way…” 
The archangel scratched his head, grimacing like a held-back student in algebra class. 
“You read me like a book, I guess. I shouldn’t have appeared in front of you, no. I needed to have Barbariccia at your side when you woke up, not me. That way, I could’ve—” 
“You could have made me the great hero Alciel,” he interrupted, “guardian of Gwenvan, back where he belongs?” 
“That sounds like the next summer blockbuster more than anything else, y’know?” 
“I am, after all, the only Demon General Emilia is not on record as having personally defeated.” 
“Would you mind letting me finish? …In fact, how ’bout I start interrupting you for a change? See how you like that, huh?” 
“I have noticed how the final events in the Central Continent Devil’s Castle are still the subject of unfounded rumors here. If the Demon General Alciel has returned to the Malebranche-ruled Efzahan, I suppose everyone would assume the return of the Devil King’s Army is nigh.” 
“Oh-ho! And then?” 
“And then…the people of Ente Isla would wait for the return of the Hero to slay this new threat to their existence. That is why you have Emilia here, yes? However you managed to do it?” 
“Okay, go on. I’ll let you have the floor.” 
“…First the Devil King’s Army, then the Hero. With both resurrected, the people will pine for the Hero’s final victory. I presume your plan is to have Emilia defeat Barbariccia and me. Thus, the revived Hero Emilia will defeat the evil Devil King’s Army once more, returning the light of purity to Ente Isla. The script could hardly be easier to follow.” 
“Eesh, I don’t think it’s that easy…but I suppose it is for you, huh? Given that you’re one of the participants.” 
“But two questions remain. One, why bring up Emilia again? Two, why are you angels going through all this trouble? Emilia’s presence would help the Church publicly admit to Olba Meiyer’s crimes and reform itself—that much I understand. But I still fail to understand what lies behind all this scheming.” 
“Yeah, well, I never showed you.” 
Alciel ignored the aside. 
“But, hey, we’re still angels, more or less, yeah? Inviting the demons and instilling a little hope in people would set the stage perfectly for weakening the demon realms and protecting the peace on this planet, mmm?” 
“What are you prattling on about? Our Devil King’s Army had four-fifths of Ente Isla in the palm of our hand, and you lifted not a single finger.” 
“…Nooooo, but…” 
“It makes no sense, you going through all this trouble simply to swat away a few meddlesome Malebranche leaders. If you had that much of a drive to act, you could have assassinated me and His Demonic Highness in Japan far more easily… What are you after, Gabriel?” 
“Hm? What d’you mean?” 
“If we do nothing and enough time passes, Emilia will appear here, and the Malebranche and I will be pressed into battle. An untold number of powerful demons will lose their lives, and your mission to restore hope to the lives of Ente Isla’s humans will be accomplished. But that is not your mission at all.” 
“What makes you think that?” 
“Many reasons. You showed me the outside. You gave me the time and materials needed to grasp the situation. Even that is enough to tell that you wish to put Emilia and me in place to do…something. Something besides what the heavens called upon you to do.” 
“…Guess you’re more than just a guy agonizing over what grade of eggs to buy at the store after all, huh?” 
“You… Where did you see me doing that, you dirty little rat?” 
That, for some reason, was what made Alciel’s formidable presence crumble. Gabriel snickered, sat down on the edge of the balcony, and took in the sight of the imperial palace grounds below. 
“Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m not really expectin’ a hell of a lot out of you and Emilia. Like you guessed, this whole charade’s meant to show off Emilia defeating the Malebranche to the general public. Nabbing Nord Justina along the way was one heck of a winning lottery ticket, I’ll admit. Now, not only can the Hero Emilia once again defeat her bitter enemy, this nefarious Great Demon General, and save Ente Isla once more…why, she’ll be reunited with her long-lost father, too! We’re gonna be showered in Oscars next year!” 
Alciel steeled his gaze at the angel. 
“Me, though,” Gabriel continued, “I’ve already had enough of this two-bit farce.” 
“Oh?” 
“Feel free to dis me for it, but I’m scared. Yesod, Gevurah… Y’know, those aren’t the kinda things I’m s’posed to be messin’ with. The ‘dark’ blood I ran into when I kidnapped you, in its complete form… Man, I thought I was gonna jump outta my toga. Life flashing before my eyes, the whole bit.” 
“Complete… What?” 
“I’d kinda like to save heaven, yeah?” 
“What are you talking about?” Alciel grumbled in a low, threatening tone. “The heavens are hardly under threat of invasion.” 
“True, true,” the angel laughed. “But they are about to repeat a mistake they made in the past. They had a single chance, and you know what? They had to play it off as a ‘cataclysm,’ when it was all said and done. All so they can enjoy this lazy, listless peace they have. Sad to say, though, there ain’t much I can do by myself. As intelligent and handsome—and did I mention modest?—as I am, not even I can fend off that kind of rabble up there.” 
A pause. 
“…Um, you were supposed to chime in with one of your bons mots right then? Like, personally, I know that rabble’s beyond saving, but they’re my friends, yeah? I don’t wanna lose ’em for nothing. No matter how stupid and lazy and arrogant they are, they’re still the gang I spent the past ten thousand years with, y’know?” 
“…You are truly the worst straight man in the world.” 
Gabriel exploded in joyous laughter. It made him fall off his balcony stoop. He stood up, stretching his legs out. 
“…Y’know, there’s really only thing I want from you: When Emilia shows up, try to keep the fight going as long as you can.” He placed a hand on Alciel’s shoulder. “Mm-kay? ’Cause with the kind of safety margin I need, a good forty-eight hours would be juuust about right.” 
“Um…” 
Before Alciel could speak, the archangel slowly walked away. He watched him leave. 
“When we first met,” Gabriel called out, “I had no expectations for him whatsoever. Like, he was so ready to dish out his life for every stupid little thing. But…I dunno. All that time he spent in that other world… Must’ve made him think a little, hmm?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean that I’ve been waiting two thousand years for this—for a new Devil Overlord to be born. And I think this is about the last chance we got.” 
His voice was just as fluttery and obnoxious as always, but soon it was gone, too far for Alciel’s ears to pick up on. 
 
“Dahh!” the shrill voice echoed across the palace grounds. “Why did this have to happen, I ask you?! Where did Olba disappear to?! Why won’t he come back?!” 
It belonged to a figure perhaps a shade higher than your average grown man, but peeking out from his robe, one could easily spot the enormous curved claws on both sides—the telltale sign of a Malebranche. They were far longer than those of a typical tribe member, forming strong and beautiful scythe-like crescents in the air—and they could belong to none other than Barbariccia, leader of the entire Malebranche force. 
“Please, Lord Barbariccia, calm yourself! Wailing about it will not help our situation.” 
“Silence, Farlo! How could anyone remain calm at a time like this?!” 
The Malebranche called Barbariccia shot off his seat, almost knocking it to the floor, and slashed one of his mighty claws down. Farfarello, the young officer who had faced off against Maou and his new generals in Japan, was forced to watch as it tore through the table they were seated at. He sighed. 
“Raguel!” Barbariccia shouted, not bothering to notice Farfarello’s exasperation. “You were with him! Where did Olba Meiyer go?” 
“…Can’t say I know,” replied the man with the Afro cut, not letting his superior officer’s glare faze him. 
“Like hell you don’t! I cannot allow this!” 
“Whether you do or not, man, I don’t know. Ain’t you kinda in enough trouble right now, though? It’s not like losing Olba’s gonna change a lot for you either way.” 
“Gnnnh…” 
Barbariccia, who had taken the post of Malebranche leader after the death of the Great Demon General Malacoda, sized up the map of Efzahan strewn among the battered remains of the table. “What is going on in Phaigan and Gwenvan?!” he bellowed, tramping on the papers and debris like a movie monster. 
“Something bad, I’d guess?” Raguel said, keeping his legs casually crossed as he watched the map get torn to shreds. “Whatcha gonna do, though? The way the Eight Scarves in the capital are putting it, you two are about the only Malebranche leaders left. You guys and Libicocco, and he ain’t exactly in any shape for battle right now. Not after what happened in Japan.” 
There was hardly a trace of urgency to his voice, but Raguel’s choice of words made Barbariccia’s and Farfarello’s faces visibly darken. 
“I had thought,” Farfarello sharply replied, “you were all here to counsel us during emergencies like these.” 
The punky-haired angel scoffed at him. “I think you and I got different definitions of ‘emergency,’ man. I thought you guys told me we were invading Ente Isla with your forces, and no one else’s. Otherwise you’d never be able to live up to Devil King Satan, or whatever. Right? Ain’t that what you said? And then I said I’d help set the table. I don’t remember ever saying I’d come galloping in to the rescue.” 
“Youuuu…” 
“Besides, haven’t I earned my keep enough already? Alciel could wind up being your supreme commander by the end of this, and now he’s right here. Right alongside Emilia’s father, the guy with the other holy sword. I set everything up perfectly for you, and you’re still cryin’ about how you can’t do anything by yourselves?” 
The mention of Alciel’s name, in and of itself, helped soothe Barbariccia’s frayed nerves a little. It only made Farfarello feel even more depressed about his fate. 
“Perhaps we should have listened to His Demonic Highness after all…” 
“What, Farlo?!” 
“…Er. Nothing.” 
“…So be it. Our first order of business, then, is to confirm Draghignazzo and Scarmiglione are alive. That, and find out what we are dealing with in the force invading Heavensky from Phaigan! Farlo, fly over and examine the front lines for me and—” 
It was perhaps just as well that Barbariccia’s not-so-well-thought-out orders were interrupted midway. The ponderous doors of the meeting room opened, revealing a figure that immediately made he and Farfarello sit straight up in their seats. It didn’t affect Raguel’s stance at all, although his face did stiffen a little. 
“Ah…” 
“Lord…Alciel…” 
“Give me the situation,” his low voice rumbled. “Be concise.” He raised a finger, and instantly the smashed table and ruined map were returned to perfect condition. 
“Ah, Lord Alciel! I have heard the particulars of your run-in with Farlo in the alien world of Japan. I certainly empathize if he has angered you in any way, but I promise you, we of the Malebranche would never dream of interfering with—” 
“I said, give me the situation concisely.” 
Mown down by the Demon General’s sheer force, the leader of the New Devil King’s Army fell dumb. 
“Let me present it, my lord,” said the young Farfarello as he stood at his end of the restored table. 
Alciel, looking at the demon’s haggard face, nodded. “You are the one Erone serves, yes?” 
“Yes, my lord. I regret that I was the one who treated His Demonic Highness and his new general, Her Excellency Chiho the MgRonald Barista, so rudely in Japan. I will gratefully accept any punishment you wish to mete out after this is over, but first, allow me to answer your question.” 
Farfarello saluted, then used a claw to point at the map of Efzahan. 
“We, the Malebranche, have invaded and occupied Efzahan with the aid of Olba Meiyer and the angel Lord Raguel, an aide from the heavens. At one point, we had every major city in Efzahan under our control. From there, we intended to seize the site of Devil’s Castle on the Central Continent, so we may be ready to provide Lord Satan his proper setting in the future. To achieve this, we needed to take apart the Federated Order of the Five Continents, the unified knight corps rebuilding the land. That is why we have bolstered the ranks of the Eight Scarves and declared war against the rest of the world.” 
“Mmm.” 
“Our move had the desired effect. The human knight corps returned to their homelands to prepare for war, leaving the Central Continent comparatively unguarded. We also made advances at the holy sword wielded by the Hero Emilia, which was being concealed by the Church on the Western Island. Doing so, we believed, would disrupt the balance of military power across the islands, stoking discord among the human race and preventing them from putting up the sort of unified front that so devastated us before.” 
Alciel stole a quick glance at the smirking Raguel. 
“So why are you in this current predicament?” 
“The cities under protection from our Malebranche forces and the Eight Scarves corps,” Farfarello briskly replied, claw pointing at different marks on the map, “have been forced to capitulate one after the other in recent days.” 
“Hohh.” 
Alciel nodded briskly, but his eyes were no longer on the map. They were on Raguel, now a silent observer as events unfolded around him. 
“We have lost contact with Scarmiglione and Draghignazzo, whose forces were garrisoned at two points between Heavensky and the naval port of Phaigan. The lands under the control of Libicocco, currently recuperating in Heavensky after being wounded in combat in Japan…I fear their seizure is a matter of time as well.” 
“I see.” Another emotionless nod. Alciel crossed his arms, eyes still on Raguel. “So you fools let Olba and these rats from heaven sweet-talk you into ravaging the lands I worked so hard to conquer. And not only did you fail to take Devil’s Castle, you let the lives of His Demonic Highness’s people go to waste for little to no benefit.” 
“…I have no defense, my lord,” Farfarello meekly replied. 
“Y-yes, but Lord Alciel…” 
“Silence, Barbariccia! You damned fool! There is no point in criticizing you for raising your forces at this point. You had every right to be stoked to anger after the cruel humiliation we were dealt. But! Why did you refuse to faithfully carry out the orders His Demonic Highness gave to you, Farfarello? He specifically instructed all of you to return to the demon realms!” 
Barbariccia remained silent. 
“We… I apologize for this disgrace, my lord.” 
“Aw, don’t be so pissed off at ’em, man! They just kinda stuck their necks out a little too far, you know? It was lookin’ pretty good for a while there, too.” 
“This is exactly what you wanted all along, no doubt, you scurrying little rats of the sky.” 
Alciel had no time for Raguel’s advocation for his fellow demons. 
“Rats? C’mon, bro. If anything, we’re on your side here. I set the table for this whole thing!” 
“I have had enough of you angels. You and your false pretenses. I have yet to discover what you are using us for, but I, Alciel, am not the sort of obedient demon willing to wag my tail and do as you say!” 
Just as he finished, Alciel disappeared into thin air. The next moment, he was behind Raguel, claws poised to strike his head—not that he needed to be too careful with his aim, what with all that hair. 
“Ngh?!” 
But another arm stopped him—stopped the most powerful body in the demon realms. And the person doing it was as small as a child. 
“Y-you…!” Alciel exclaimed as he turned around to see the ashen-skinned boy behind him. His hair was black, save for one streak of red. 
“You… Erone… The one Farfarello used…” 
For a moment, Alciel thought the Malebranche were rebelling against him. Raguel quickly set the record straight. 
“Oh, uh, I was kinda lending him to the crew for this effort, so that guy isn’t backstabbing you or anything. No worries, right?” 
“Lending him…? Ngh!” 
The physical strength of Erone—the boy borne from the Gevurah Sephirah who sent Suzuno flying and deflected the Alas Ramus–infused Better Half—proved too much even for the fully powered Great Demon General to resist. Stony-faced, the boy pulled Alciel down, then threw him straight into the wall behind them. 
“Erh!!” 
Alciel managed to avoid plunging in headfirst, but the incalculable amount of force applied to his frame shocked him. Raguel breezily stood up before he could recover. 
“Yeah, you can see how borrowing this kid for a bit kinda made ’em a little too big for their britches, huh? So go easy on ’em. Can you blame ’em?” 
He gave Erone a pat on the head, nonchalantly walked up to Alciel—and there, his Afro-crowned shadow covering the Demon General, he smiled an evil smile. 
“Not like the demon realms got any future. No matter which way you go.” 
“What…?” 
“’Course, that’s not necessarily true, either! Assuming you fight well enough in the battle comin’ up…” 
Just as the words echoed against Alciel’s eardrums, Raguel and Erone were enveloped in a soft light, only to blink out of sight the next moment. 
“Thing is, though, the demons have to die sooner or later. It’s for our future, you know? Best of luck out there.” 
All Alciel, Farfarello, and Barbariccia could do was lie there and watch as the viciously conniving angel left. 
“Wh-what is the meaning of this, Raguel?! We will have to let go of Efzahan if this continues, to say nothing of seizing Devil’s Castle!” 
“…What it means, you, is that the Malebranche were exactly the sort of dupes the angels needed.” Alciel sighed as he rubbed the wrist Erone just wrestled behind his back. “I have yet to ascertain how many of them there are aside from Raguel, but even one of them might prove too much for us. You were deceived, from start to finish.” 
It was clear from Gabriel that the heavens wanted Alciel and Barbariccia to do something for them. Barbariccia’s forming the New Devil King’s Army in the first place was likely all part of their scheme. None of the surviving leaders could even hold a candle to the late Malacoda—and given how readily they had danced for the angels in the face of their overwhelming force, Barbariccia’s fate was likely sealed from the beginning. 
“But…but Lord Alciel,” Barbariccia continued to plead, “we were fully aware of the angels’ power! The holy sword… If only we could obtain the holy sword, we would no longer have to accept orders from anyone. But that accursed Raguel… He rounded up this simple man off the street and claimed he was the father of the sword-bearer, Emilia…” 
To Alciel, however, the mere idea of demons attempting to possess a holy sword was, in itself, unthinkable. “Fool,” he began. “The Better Half Emilia wields is far more than merely a weapon. It is a holy presence, one with the jeweled Sephirah known as Yesod at its core—the fruit of the Tree of Life. We have no holy force—to us, it would be nothing more than a hunk of iron.” 
“Er…?” Barbariccia paused. “My lord, if I may, I think you are mistaken.” 
“…What?” 
The Malebranche leader reached into his pocket. “I believe you know that Farlo once had Erone under his control,” he said as he took something out. One look was all it took to shock Alciel all over again. 
“The power of the Sephirah is not something restricted to angels or humans, my lord.” 
At the tip of one enormous claw was a small purple stone. A fragment from the Yesod Sephirah, the sort that Alciel—or Shirou Ashiya, to be exact—had seen many times before. 
“This stone reacts quite strongly to demonic force, my lord. Let me show you.” 
Barbariccia murmured a word or two into the fragment, instilling it with dark power. 
“N-no… How could this…?” 
A shallow shade of purple began to erupt from the stone, a familiar sight to Alciel by now. 
“When we first sent Ciriatto’s forces to the land of Japan,” Barbariccia quickly explained, “we attempted to use this fragment and a Link Crystal to search for Emilia’s holy sword. Ciriatto failed to return in the end, sadly, but when we infused this fragment with dark power, it resonated with another fragment for a single instant.” 
Alciel wasn’t around for that exact moment, but he knew that Ciriatto had a Link Crystal with him over the seas of Choshi. Up to now, though, he had only seen Emi handle Yesod fragments. He assumed it required the touch of a holy-force wielder to successfully handle Sephirah and holy swords. Barbariccia just blew that assumption out of the water for him. He struggled to link his thoughts together. 
“So the holy sword… The Sephirah are not…holy in nature?” 
Then it struck him. 
“…!” 
The thought that had escaped him this whole time. And with it, part of the other, more personal objective Gabriel hinted at on that Heavensky balcony. 
“Barbariccia! Farfarello!” 
““Sir!”” 
“Where is Nord Justina? Emilia’s father? He should have been brought in here with me!” 
“I-I believe he is being held in a room within Heavensky Keep…but he truly is Emilia’s kin?” 
“You bear a Yesod fragment, and you still doubt it that much…?” 
Alciel’s mind flashed back to a moment in Villa Rosa Sasazuka. Out from the pouring rain, Maou had just deposited the unfamiliar-looking Nord into the room. Nord, and a silver-haired girl who disappeared into the sky with Maou. 
“Nord did not bear the holy sword with him, yes?” 
“Y-yes, my lord…” 
Barbariccia and Farfarello nervously looked at each other, unsure where this was going. Alciel, meanwhile, was juggling several thought streams at once. He took a moment to organize them in silence. 
“His motives remain unclear to me, but I think I know what Gabriel is scheming for us now.” 
“Sir?” 
Another moment of thought. Then Alciel mournfully snapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 
“Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. No way out, except to dance on top of his hand…” 
“M-my lord, what is…?” 
Alciel stepped up to the meeting table and began pointing at the map. 
“I will be brief. The person defeating your leaders and storming Heavensky is none other than Emilia herself.” 
“E-Emilia?!” 
“But I thought Emilia was in the other world! In Japan!” 
“Emilia returned to Ente Isla several weeks ago. Olba Meiyer and the angels made her do their bidding—how, I cannot say—and now they have rallied an army with which to seize the capital. Their mission: to have Emilia kill us all.” 
“What?!” 
“For…for what purpose?!” 
“I imagine Raguel and his cohorts in heaven are hoping to further weaken the demon realms through this farce. That, and use our defeat to build more support for themselves from the devout humans of Ente Isla.” 
Alciel used his eyes to trace the path of the “mystery force” that had made its way across the map of Efzahan, slaying every Malebranche leader it came across. 
“Curse you, Emilia… Acting so grand and self-important, and letting yourself be caught in this repugnant crisis…” 
“Um, Lord Alciel?” 
“Barbariccia, how many days has it been since my return?” 
“Er? Oh. Um, approximately seven days, by this land’s reckoning.” 
“Seven days…hmm.” 
Alciel did some quick mental calculation. Regardless of the wild card that Gabriel was proving to be, if Raguel and Olba wanted Emi to defeat the Great Demon General for the public’s edification, they would naturally have no reason to attack Heavensky until he had turned into Alciel. Now that he had, though, Raguel must have informed Olba about it and sent Emilia’s forces their way. 
As long as Alciel had no idea how many other angels were part of this conspiracy, not even he could afford to make any rash moves. And judging by now Emi seemed to be meekly joining the cause, she must have been in a similar position—all the power in the world, but no will to exercise it. And despite himself, Alciel couldn’t help but direct his thoughts toward another objective entirely: a way out. How could he escape the clutches of heaven and get himself and Emi back to safety? 
“…Lord Alciel…” 
Farfarello’s worried eyes began to gauge the silent general. Alciel felt compelled to address his Malebranche comrades, but he used an unexpected language: 
“<My Demonic Highness’s shift schedule last week had him leaving early on Monday. Tuesday was a night shift, Wednesday was all day, Thursday he had the afternoon covered, Friday noon ’til closing. He has Saturday off, works all day Sunday, has off the following Monday as well, then handles opening on Tuesday…>” 
“Farlo, do you understand our lord’s speech?” Barbariccia whispered. 
“N-no, sir… It appears to be from the other world…” 
“<The Sunday shift would be the main bottleneck, then—that, and finding a shift supervisor for Thursday. I believe they were low on staff on that day to start with. I must assume my liege could take action Thursday afternoon at the earliest, then…>” 
Even before the confrontation at Villa Rosa Sasazuka, Alciel had made full preparations for Maou to follow the trail of Emi and Alas Ramus. If his message to Amane had been relayed over correctly, Maou was bound to make a move. 
“<So…all that remains for us is to survive every second we possibly can. As naturally as we can.> …Barbariccia.” 
“…Y-yes, my lord!” Barbariccia straightened up his posture. 
“Where is the Azure Emperor? He is alive, is he not?” 
During his entire stay in Heavensky Keep, Alciel had yet to set eyes upon the theoretical font of all power in Efzahan. 
“Yes, sir. That old man’s authority was a prerequisite in order to gain the support needed for our declaration of war. We are holding him in the Cloud Retreat, a smaller keep on the premises. He is being guarded by Regal Crimson Scarves holy-magic wielders to prevent anyone from casting demonic spells upon him.” 
“Hmph. A rare intelligent decision on your part.” Alciel nodded. “Bring me to him. I wish to speak to him.” 
“Ah? B-but…” 
“Do not worry about the angels,” Alciel ordered, the confidence clear in his voice. “I will dance just as they wish me to. If he wants my choreography, he will certainly get it.” 
Gabriel, listening from the keep’s roof as the two conflicted Malebranche leaders guided Alciel to the Cloud Retreat, stifled a laugh. 
“Your choreography, hmm? Fair enough, fair enough. Just make sure you start dancin’ when you get your cue, yeah?” 
Then he clapped his hands and disappeared into thin air.