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TorturePrincess

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and Lewis, the attackers' main force, are focused on negotiating, your job is to free the hostages." "How very simple. In fact, it hardly even rises to the level of a plan. That shit's basic! It's so damn bland that it makes unbuttered bread look like caviar!" "Aye, so it is. And that's why you're going to add a little twist." Elisabeth gave Jeanne a meaningful grin. Her voice, filled with sinister intimations, piqued Jeanne's attention. Then without a shred of hesitation, shame, or indecision, Elisabeth gave Jeanne her instructions. To put it in chess terms, her plan was as insane as sacrificing one's king. "Namely, you're going to blow up the Sand Queen's corpse." "Reckless...doesn't even begin to describe it. This isn't a risky play; it's straight-up illegal. But this shit ain't half-bad. It's so wicked, and so wicked! Guess this is why they pay her the big bucks!" Jeanne licked her lips like a cat. Her honey-blond hair fluttered, practically scraping the Sand Temple's ceiling as it did. The temple had a large, metal, hoop-shaped lighting fixture with brazier cages installed on its circumference, and at the moment, Jeanne was perched atop it. Each time the walls shook, the chain-mounted hoop trembled violently, the towering bone pillar before her eyes creaked, and rock chunks of various sizes cascaded down from the ceiling. Despite the jagged rain, though, Jeanne didn't so much as flinch. Her gaze was focused on a single point. Deep inside the temple, there was a hexagonal sanctuary adorned with gold and jewels. It was a building inside the building, like a pair of nesting boxes. Without going through its door, it was impossible to have an audience with the Sand Queen's corpse. The layout served two purposes; it enhanced the temple's mystique, and it protected against mages invading it. The inner sanctuary was guarded by a magic circle that repelled people based on their blood. Historically, the spell had covered the entire temple. However, the rest of it had been lifted after the third peace treaty, both because of how inconvenient it was when their old friends the beastfolk wanted to send their royalty to pay respects, and out of consideration for the burden it placed on the demi-human priests when they made pilgrimages to the other sectors. As a result, mages with enough power could forcibly teleport their way in from outside. But during times of peace, the temple was open to the public anyway. There was virtually no reason anyone would need to sneak in. However, the inner sanctuary was still inviolable, even to that day. If you opened its door, though, you'd be greeted by a winding, serpentine staircase covered in blood runes. Beyond it lay the Sand Queen's burial chamber, a massive room blanketed in a thick layer of vitreous sand. Her colossal body, half buried under the white, cloudy grains, was said to resemble a lizard's. It was also said her body glowed red and had never decomposed. For many ages, she'd rested down there in peace. Now, though, that stillness had been shattered into a million pieces. An explosion had gone off beneath the sanctuary. "...Oh my, that is dramatic. And probably more effective than stabbin' them in their actual hearts, too. Almost feels too easy." Jeanne murmured the words, which sounded as though they'd have been best accompanied by a whistle, as dispassionately as ever. The explosion had had an immediate, drastic effect inside the temple. Until just a moment ago, the hostages' arms had been bound, and they'd all been collapsed lifelessly on their sides. The terror from the end of days had returned, overwhelming them and leaving them unable to even move. Now, though, it was like a switch had been flipped. All of them rushed violently toward the inner sanctuary. The armed mixed-race folk stood dumbfounded. They couldn't even parse their hostages' sudden change. However, the demi-humans' actions were consistent with their beliefs. Even in crisis situations, their desire to be "proper subjects" took absolute precedence. To them, their reverence for pure bloodlines and the Sand Queen was more important than their own safety. And right now, that meant checking in on their queen's corpse to make sure it was unharmed. One of them nimbly hopped up and took off at a dash. Several of the others tripped and fell, but they, too, continued struggling onward. A long moment later, the mixed-race folk shouted out threats to make them stop and come back. "Don't get up without permission! You wanna die?!" "Silence! We had a deal, and you broke it! How dare you lowlifes endanger Her Majesty the Sand Queen!" They were met with one angry cry after another. The mixed-race folk flinched. They had no comebacks to that. After their armed assault succeeded, the mixed-race people had used the Sand Queen's corpse as a hostage for their own hostages. Blowing it up for no reason would make keeping control of the temple impossible. It might even mess up the negotiations with La Christoph. But given that an explosion had broken out regardless, the only possibility they could think of was that their lookout had acted on his own—in other words, they thought it was their own fault. Their response weakened, and for a moment, the mixed-race folk stopped in their tracks. "So far, all according to plan." Jeanne nodded. However, the mixed-race people soon set off to check on the state of affairs underground, and earlier than she'd expected. They tightened their grips on their weapons. They needed to check what was happening in the inner sanctuary, and the hostages grouped at its entrance were in their way. Jeanne narrowed her eyes. But then it happened. Someone pounded hard on the temple's main doors from outside. Flustered, the mixed-race folk turned around. Jeanne nodded again. It would seem they'd made it in time. Angry voices were audible through the door. The purebloods who'd avoided confinement had come running over. It was an immediate, violent, impulsive response. "Did you harm the Sand Queen?!" they shouted. The graveyard-like silence that had filled the first sector had been completely broken. Fear was only capable of controlling people for so long, and that time had come to an abrupt end. The mixed-race people looked dumbfounded. However, their surprise didn't last long. Soon, their faces were filled with loathing. Their people had long been oppressed and persecuted, making the spirit of self-sacrifice that accompanied blood-purity fanaticism anathema to them. They turned their weapons back toward the royalty and other hostages. I imagine they think the people outside have merely forgotten the position they're in due to their rage, but hearing the hostages scream will shut them up. I see, I see. A very practical solution...or so they thought! Suckers! Suddenly, a scream rang out. *** "...Huh?" However, the mixed-race people hadn't done anything yet. They looked toward the inner sanctuary's entrance in unison. The scream had come through it, from below. Clearly, their lookout in the Sand Queen's chamber had been visited by an uninvited guest. That meant that the bombing, too, had been this stranger's work, and not their lookout's. However, teleporting in directly was impossible. When had someone been able to sneak past them? Why had they gone after the Sand Queen instead of them? And what possible reason could they have for wanting to blow up a corpse? The mixed-race folk found themselves with questions upon questions. But the angry cries from the hostages and people outside prevented them from thinking straight. Jeanne licked her lips as she gazed down at the chaos below her. "I suppose it's time, then. When the meat starts sizzlin', you gotta take it off the grill." Jeanne took a deep breath. Then she elegantly arched her back and thrust her bondage-strapped chest forward. Her ribs pressed faint outlines into her skin, and her honey-blond hair draped luxuriously down her back. Her long eyelashes fluttered as she spoke her loving whisper. "Now then, my fair lady—let us dance." Jeanne raised her arms into the air like a conductor. The moment she did, something shot out into the room full of bone pillars. Her silver puppet. The golden Torture Princess, Jeanne de Rais, once possessed an exceptional weapon. It was a titan made from four parts. One of them was a beast made of nothing but fangs. Another was an automaton, shaped like a human except for its fatally warped framework. One of the other monsters was a lizard with limbs made from pipes and wings made of glass. And the final one was a bipedal suit of armor with no visible seams on its body. The weapon was singular, and the weapon was many. It was one, and it was four. They were separate, and they were a titan. Such was the nature of Deus Ex Machina. Not only could it be summoned regardless of the user's nature or disposition, but it was also a living weapon without equal. However, Deus Ex Machina was lost to Jeanne. She had sacrificed it to save her first love, Izabella Vicker. It happened right before the end of days. After being captured by the Church's reconstruction sect, Izabella was forced to eat demon flesh and partially transformed into a monster. Saving her was just barely possible, but it would require removing the corrupted parts and replacing them with Deus Ex Machina. And thus, Jeanne was faced with a choice. She had the power to save Izabella. However, doing so would mean taking a weapon meant to deliver salvation and rendering it useless. The question was, was the life of her first love more important than the world? And the answer was clear. Even children know that some things were more important than others. And Jeanne had been created to deliver salvation. It would be a sick joke for the self-proclaimed "oppressor of slaves, the savior of the world, the saint, and the whore" to prioritize her own love over it. And knowing all that, Jeanne chose Izabella anyway. The worst choice possible. The end of days loomed on the horizon, yet she abandoned her greatest weapon. However, Jeanne had no regrets. Saving the world and destroying it were both but mere matters of personal conceit. And if faced with the decision a thousand times, Jeanne would no doubt make the same choice a thousand times over. Even if they knew it was a fatal error, there were sometimes choices that people simply had to make. For Jeanne, that moment was one such choice. And that was all there was to it. Now, though, all that was but a distant memory. Over three years had passed since the end of days was averted. If she'd gone that long without taking steps to remedy her own degraded strength, it would have made her a failure as a mage. After the world was saved, Jeanne had accepted Izabella's invitation to join the royal castle's retinue. Then as Jeanne carried out her duties there, she also tried searching for a new weapon. With the end of days averted, she'd fulfilled her purpose in life and had no more reason to fight, but now that she'd fallen in love, she wanted to get her power back anyway. At first, she used her acquaintances' techniques as references and tried methods such as summoning countless blades and calling forth torture devices. However, nothing she tried spoke to her the way Deus Ex Machina had. However, she'd largely expected as much. Deus Ex Machina was a supremely dangerous entity, as it drained its user's mana whether they wanted it to or not. In order to adapt to controlling it, Jeanne had trained ceaselessly since childhood. Eventually, she became more adept at using that steel titan than at using a fork and knife. Trying to find something to replace it was like chopping off her arm and looking for something else to align her nerve endings with. Nothing could possibly compare to the

steel titan she'd sacrificed. But right when Jeanne was getting ready to accept her own limitations, Izabella casually made a suggestion. "Now that I think about it, couldn't you just use me?" She'd dropped that particular bomb while they were having tea, of all times. When she'd made the proposal, Jeanne's mouth had been full of biscuit. And that was how the silver puppet began dancing. "Good heavens... I suppose I'm not one to talk, given that I called myself 'the oppressor of slaves, the savior of the world, the saint, and the whore,' but why do all the women in my life have so many loose screws?" Jeanne let out an exasperated murmur. As she did, she continued waving her arms about in fluid, passionate motions. Down below, where her rose eyes fell, a silver light traced a graceful arc. In accordance with Jeanne's commands, the woman was weaving her way in between the hostages. Her mechanized legs kicked at the rebels' arms from below, then followed up with strikes to their chests. One after another, their assorted weapons went flying through the air. The woman's blows came straight yet were curved. Normal people couldn't even begin to follow them. The mixed-race folk toppled over, powerless to resist. The next moment, though, a sharp noise rang out, and a bullet grazed her. "—Gunfire?" Jeanne cocked her head a little to the side. When she looked over, she saw a half-beastfolk youth reloading his gun with powder and a bullet. The demi-humans' metalworking was unparalleled. After mastering cannons, they'd begun developing guns, but there were still a lot of kinks to be worked out before the weapons could enter mass production. At the moment, the only ones that could be found in the wild were the few prototypes owned by members of the ruling class who'd taken an interest in them. The rebels had probably pillaged it from one of the hostages' houses. "Wh-what the...? You're not human, you're not mixed-race... What the hell are you?!" All the fur around the young man's face was bristling up. He fired a second time. However, the woman swatted the bullet away without sparing it a second glance. Then she closed in on the youth and sank her knee into his gut. Vomit sprayed from his mouth as he crumpled to the ground. Mixed-race folk and hostages alike balked at the sight. The way she was moving was beyond the capacity of any living creature. Technically, it isn't just her movements. That ain't the half of what my lady's capable of. As Jeanne observed the panic below, her thoughts turned. At the moment, the woman was combining her own sight with Jeanne's overhead view—which she was sending directly to her—and Jeanne's orders to make the optimal choice at every turn. It was a feat that qualified squarely as superhuman. She carried out Jeanne's absurd demands one after another, never once pausing or stopping. The way she ran, like a skater gliding on ice, was spellbinding. It felt almost as though it should have been accompanied by music. Suddenly, there was a change in the inner sanctuary. Several small holes appeared in its gold- and jewel-adorned walls. Several metal spheres had just cut themselves out from inside. As they spun, they extended their legs. Once spread out, their full bodies looked like spiders. However, not all of them had eight limbs. Some of them even had an odd number of legs. They quickly began scuttling across the ground. They chased after the woman, then leaped toward her. Once they were in midair, they spun about again, changing once more into all sorts of different shapes. With clicks, they slotted themselves into the woman's chest and rear. Each one of them was a "lifeless living creature" made from a part of Deus Ex Machina. Once they returned to the woman's body, they became mere "parts" again and went silent. It looked like all of them had made it back up from underground successfully. After making sure they were all safe and accounted for, Jeanne nodded. Then she quietly summed up the situation. "As evidenced by my presence here, teleporting into the temple was trivial. The hard part was what came afterward... If we weren't careful, the hostages would have been in danger. And most importantly, the rebels had a lookout stationed with the Sand Queen, so there was a risk that the hostages themselves would interfere with any rescue attempts out of fear that the rebels would harm their queen. But still, takin' the biggest obstacle and blowin' the damn thing up ourselves? That was one crazy-ass solution." Jeanne shrugged in exasperation. Meanwhile, the woman continued her elegant dance. Jeanne took a moment to think back on how they'd gotten there. Their work had started around when Elisabeth left for the demi-human lands in accordance with the man in black's demand. At the same time, Jeanne and the woman had secretly teleported into the temple where the Sand Queen's body was enshrined. Once they arrived, Jeanne hid near the ceiling, and the woman took cover behind a pillar. Then the woman broke off as much of Deus Ex Machina as she could without endangering her life and sent the pieces to invade the inner sanctuary by burrowing holes in its walls. As part of their threat, the mixed-race folk had made it known that they'd set up gunpowder around the Sand Queen. By having the machines strike their legs together, Jeanne and the woman had started a fire and set off an explosion. They'd followed Elisabeth's plan to a T. However, that wasn't to say they didn't run into problems. In fact, they ran into nothing but problems. Blowing up the Sand Queen's corpse wasn't just racially insensitive. It was essentially a declaration of war. When the woman first heard Elisabeth's plan, she'd cited that fact as part of her vehement objection. However, Elisabeth had merely replied with an indominable laugh. "—Aye, so it would be. If we truly destroyed it, that is. And if we were caught." In other words, they'd be in the clear as long as the corpse didn't actually get damaged and as long as no one found out who was responsible. The plan was reckless, but given the situation they were in, it also had a certain logic to it. All they had to do was line everything up nicely and cover their tracks, and there wouldn't be any problems. Even so, the woman's fears persisted. However, Elisabeth just grinned and went on. "—Worry not. Actually destroying the Sand Queen would require a blast strong enough to level the entire inner sanctuary." Elisabeth had evidence to back her claim up, too. There were two pieces of information she was basing it off—"the Sand Queen's shrine had been built from the bones of her close relatives," and "some of the pillars had mineralized into gems." Normally, that kind of change would be impossible. Synthetically mineralizing bones into gems required one to apply high heat and pressure to them in a special mage's furnace. It was hard to imagine having that happen naturally to bones that were part of a building. In short, it was reasonable to assume that the change had been caused by something about the materials—the bones of the Queen's relatives. And it followed that there was a good chance that the same thing had happened to the Queen herself, possibly to an even more dramatic degree. In the short time before she had to depart, Elisabeth had gone around and made the civil officials dig up every record and piece of information they could find related to the Sand Queen. However, the demi-humans had kept a tight lid on information regarding her corpse. The search seemed futile. Surprisingly enough, though, they were able to find consistent accounts in old songs and legends. "A body unheld by death's fell claim." "A radiant form." "A glittering frame." "Adorned with reddened scales." "Like beautiful stones." "Our eternal protector." All those phrases implied that the Sand Queen's corpse both glowed red and hadn't decomposed. It seemed entirely likely that her scales had grown over her flesh and bones and transmuted her corpse into gems. And given that those same gems were being used to support their most sacred shrine, they were probably highly sturdy. The tales of how the Sand Queen's scales had protected her in battle while she was still alive supported the theory as well. In following, Elisabeth concluded that a random handful of explosives wouldn't be enough to damage it. However, that didn't change the fact that the hostages were being cowed into submission out of fear that the Sand Queen's corpse would be harmed. For the devout, the mere prospect of having an idol attacked was often scary. Humanity was no different in that regard. For example, the Saint statues were nothing more than lumps of bronze, but if you took a whip to one, the faithful would still raise their voices in protest. The mixed-race folk were taking the demi-humans' simple, base piety and using it against them. Elisabeth wanted to take advantage of that fact. As long as Jeanne and Izabella were able to get out, all that'd be left behind would be the Sand Queen's undamaged corpse. Everything would get tied up neatly. The explosion would get written off as the fault of the mixed-race folk, or perhaps just a pile of built-up ash spontaneously combusting or something. As Vlad had once put it, there were times when victory demanded one to abandon their scruples. It was fitting, then, that such a battle plan would come from his own beloved daughter. "I'm sure that aspect was unintentional on the little lady's part, mind you. She might be adopted, but those two are more alike than... Ah, shit, I got distracted. Eh, not that my lady really needs the help." Jeanne blinked. Below her, the dance was reaching its conclusion. Most of the mixed-race folk were already on the ground. However, the last one—a man with bits and features from all three races—was mounting a desperate resistance. After miraculously repelling the woman's slash, he made a break for it. Then he reached out a scale- and fur-covered hand and hoisted a nearby demi-human girl up by her bound arms. The girl screamed. Her blue scales were adorned with fine silks, meaning she was probably a member of some noble's household. The man pressed a dagger against her thin neck. "D-don't come any closer! Stay back, or the girl gets it!" I recognize you had to come up with it on the spur of the moment, but holy shit, could you have picked a bigger cliché? Jeanne thought about it for a moment. There were so many mixed-race people in the temple that efficiency couldn't possibly have been their foes' primary goal. From that, she inferred they didn't have anyone on-site nearly as strong as the solo attacker who'd gone after the Capital and ultimately committed suicide. They probably wanted to give their younger members field experience by having them watch over unresisting hostages. That was more or less what she'd expected. All it would take was a single order, and the woman could end things right there. Now then, what to do? I think... However, Jeanne intentionally decided to take action herself. She stepped forward, leaving the metal hoop and striding into empty space as casually as if she were going for an afternoon stroll. Her honey-blond hair gently fluttered as her pale body pitched forward. Then Jeanne fell, much in the way she had once before. She aimed for the man's head. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Those were words shared by everyone who'd ever had a perfectly conceived plan fall to pieces before their eyes. It was true of humans, beastfolk, demi-humans, and mixed-race folk alike. It was a natural reaction. And it only made matters worse when the one who

ruined that plan was a monster who'd appeared out of nowhere. Having one's assumption of superiority suddenly overturned would throw anyone into a panic. With a little sense, though, one could pull themself together, then try and come up with a new plan to salvage the situation. Trying to flee would be folly. There was no help to be found that way. No matter how far away you got, the result would be the same. However, that of all things was the option the man went with. He gradually began making his way backward. It would seem his plan was to escape out the temple's door. Things had gone silent after the screams and gunfire, but the angry residents were still right outside. The man was so preoccupied with the threat before him that this unfortunate fact had completely slipped his mind. But all of a sudden, he stopped in his tracks. He was the last mixed-race person standing, so it stood to reason that his instincts were sharp. He looked up. There, he saw a golden girl swooping down on him like a hawk. Jeanne murmured: "So long now—it's time for good little boys to go beddy-bye." She twisted her body in such a way that it hardly seemed possible and skimmed his jaw with the tip of her foot. His brain shook, causing him to immediately pass out. If she'd wanted to, it would have been trivial for Jeanne to snap his neck. However, she elected to spare his life. The recoil from her kick caused her to decelerate a bit. She used the opportunity to check the demi-human girl's condition. She looked terrified, so Jeanne tried giving her a little smile. Then she approached the ground. The moment before she was dashed against it, though, a silver flash shot toward her like a shooting star. A hand reached out and caught Jeanne. The scene of the knight catching the golden princess in her arms played out exactly as it had once before. It was like an image straight out of a fairy tale. The woman squeezed Jeanne tight. After breathing a sigh of relief, she softly buried her nose in Jeanne's honey-blond hair. For some reason, seeing them like that made the demi-human girl blush and hop high into the air. As she did, the woman—Izabella Vicker—raised her face from Jeanne's and shouted: "What in the world possessed you to leap out like that?! I thought my heart was going to stop!" "Oh my, my lady, you were worried you would fail to catch me? C'mon, girl, give yourself some credit! A top-tier babe like you ain't gonna screw up like that!" Jeanne gave her a spirited response. She was clearly taking great joy in being embraced by Izabella. After all, Izabella could have handled the situation just fine on her own. Yet even knowing that, Jeanne had leaped down anyway. And it had all been leading up to that moment. Put bluntly, Jeanne loved being embraced by Izabella. Izabella glanced over her to make sure she wasn't hurt. After breathing another sigh of relief, she cleared her throat. "Ahem... It's certainly true that I had no intention of letting you fall. But that doesn't mean I can't be worried about you. And so I ask you yet again... Can you please try not to be so reckless?" "Yeeeees, ma'aaaaam. Aye-aye, Captain." "That...doesn't sound quite as sincere as I'd like." Izabella pursed her lips in irritation. Jeanne chuckled. It was a far cry from her normal, automaton-like behavior. It was clear that she wasn't repentant in the slightest. Izabella furrowed her brow. Jeanne, pleased as could be, began thinking. Ah, I see, how intriguing. Huh, so this is what it feels like to have someone worry about ya! This shit ain't half-bad! ...Although, I do hope you'll forgive me, my lady. After all, if not for what I did, you'd never let me cling on to you like this, would you? Jeanne had confessed her feelings to Izabella. However, the two of them weren't actually dating. This, too, was an old story by now. After the end of days was averted, Izabella had come to Jeanne with a question. "I wanted to check with you personally. Is it true that you have romantic feelings for me?" "I won't mince words—yes, it's true. That's why I went and swapped out your body for machine bits. I wanted to save you, no matter the cost." "Is it also true that I'm your first love?" "Yes." "...I see. I've acknowledged your feelings, and I appreciate them." And that was the last Izabella mentioned of it. Jeanne had never gotten a satisfying response to her confession. Izabella did get Jeanne hired as a royal mage and made sure they stayed together. But that was all. Jeanne couldn't understand what Izabella was thinking. Not only did Jeanne portray a relatively atypical brand of femininity, but she had trouble understanding the subtleties of normal human emotions altogether. As such, Izabella's actions—or lack thereof—had left her at a total loss. However, the culprit herself didn't seem to realize the effect she was having on her. It was utterly vexing. At the same time, Jeanne had no intention of forcing an answer out of her. Just getting to be by her side was enough. For someone with hands as bloodstained as Jeanne's, it was more than she could have asked for. Still, she did find herself longing to be embraced from time to time. It was a sweet craving, one that she herself didn't fully understand. Jeanne, taking full advantage of her current opportunity, nuzzled up close to Izabella. Seeing how unrepentant she was, Izabella opened her mouth to scold her. Before she could, though, Jeanne sealed up her lips with the tip of her finger. Izabella blinked and went silent. As the gears in her cheek spun, Jeanne reached toward her tenderly. "And what about you, my lady? Are you all right? I asked quite a lot of you back there. Even with magical reinforcement, it must have put a lot of strain on your flesh-and-blood parts. Ain't this the bit where a normal person's supposed to start hackin' up blood?" "I appreciate the concern, but I've trained more than most. There's no need to worry. I am a commander, after all!" Izabella clenched her fist. It was true; she didn't seem even a little exhausted. However, Jeanne began touching her all over to make sure nothing was out of place. Izabella pursed her lips again. Her movements from before had transcended the limits of flesh, and Jeanne was concerned about the burden it had put on her body. The dance-like fighting style was something the two of them had worked on together. During Ragnarok, Izabella figured out how to make her machine parts move. And afterward, Jeanne had given her a hand and helped perfect the technique. By running mana through the Deus Ex Machina parts that made up Izabella's body, Jeanne was able to control her like a puppet. It really was no exaggeration to say that Izabella Vicker herself was Jeanne's new weapon. While Jeanne was "using" her, Izabella's physical prowess and ability to process information both drastically increased. And just like the real Deus Ex Machina, she was able to receive Jeanne's orders without Jeanne having to say a word. Once she mixed in her own judgment, she was able to act on her own volition while still fighting as instructed. It was like she was moving her legs while following her partner's lead. It was like they were dancing as a pair. That was why they called their technique Waltz. As Jeanne and Izabella had their exchange, the demi-human girl continued gawking at them. Perhaps she'd been hypnotized by their beauty, as it appeared they'd awakened something in her. When the other hostages saw the girl's lively figure, they seemed to realize that the danger to their lives had passed. They glanced hesitantly at one another. Then they all made a rush for the inner sanctuary. Jeanne's tone was flat; it was clear how exasperated she was. "They don't seem to learn, nor do they seem to give up. I guess this is that 'conviction' shit at work, huh?" "They've been through a lot. If they still have that much energy, we should probably count it as a blessing." "How very sentimental. The way I see it, they're all just a bunch of dumbfucks, but...so be it, I suppose." This time, the hostages were successful in getting the sanctuary door open. As she watched them all rush underground, Jeanne rested her back against Izabella. A troubled look crossed Izabella's face, as she probably wanted to go untie the rest of the bound young girls. Jeanne pretended not to notice. As she fawned on Izabella, she let out a small whisper. "We finished your absurd request. In a moment, we'll begin moving the hostages and second-class residents somewhere safe. You're on your own now, Elisabeth Le Fanu. Dunno how things are goin' over there, but if you're gonna bite it, you'd better make damn sure you get us that intel first." The golden Torture Princess made an insolent proclamation. And far away, over in the demi-human king's villa, the ebony Torture Princess nodded. "Aye, very well. I should think that goes without saying. I'll make do somehow or other." The communication only went one way, but Elisabeth murmured back regardless. Then she gave her fingers a sharp snap. The thin blood membrane floating in front of her eye popped, and the image of the inside of the temple shattered into pieces. A red droplet landed on Elisabeth's cheek like a tear. Alice twitched in surprise. Lewis was as silent as ever. Elisabeth wiped it away with the back of her hand as she squared off imposingly against the two of them. She sliced at the air with Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal. Her free left hand was wreathed in darkness and flower petals. Sensing her fighting spirit, Alice stepped forward to match her. La Christoph nodded briefly. Between the rumbling from the temple and Elisabeth's murmur, he'd sensed that the situation with the hostages had been resolved. Wanting to get ready for battle himself, he made to release his chains. That was when Elisabeth grabbed him by the collar. "Up we go!" "Pardon?" She ran mana through her petal-covered hand, then lifted La Christoph's entire body up. Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal abruptly vanished, and she let out a firm shout. "Now we flee!" "Huh?" La Christoph stared vacantly at her. A moment later, though, he went, "Ah" with comprehension. It had taken him a second to process what was happening to him. Instead of offering him an explanation, Elisabeth merely took off at a dash. However, La Christoph was simply too tall for her to lift properly. His hair and hem dragged sadly behind him as she ran. After loudly kicking the door open, she made her way outside. The door swung shut with a surprisingly quiet thump. All that remained was a deafening silence. "Hmm?" Alice tilted her head to the side. Then a few seconds later, she burst. "Wha... Wha... Wh-WHAT THE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECK?!" Alice bounded to her feet. The white ribbons on her hat stood straight up. She hopped up and down in a violent rage, flailing her fists as she shouted. "Wh-who just runs away like that without fighting?! Who does that?! You can't just say whatever you like and then flee! That's mean! Mean, mean, mean, mean, mean! We have to go after them at once, Father! Faster than if we were chasing the White Rabbit!" "No, there's no need to rush." Lewis murmured flatly. Alice tilted her head in confusion again. Lewis took the mask still resting in his hand and leisurely raised it up to his face. A small click rang out. Then after covering half his features with the white crow mask, he murmured

once more. "They can run all they like. They can flee wherever their hearts desire. And there, they can learn that the world is over. No..." ...It had been over from the very beginning. As Lewis made his cold statement, a faint smile came over his lips. It was a tired, self-deprecating expression— —and by far the one most dripping in malice he'd shown yet. 8 Wombs and Babies Now then, let's talk about compensation. For what, you ask? Why, it's simple. I'm talking about your reward for betraying everything and helping to destroy the world. Unfortunately, I haven't the faintest idea of what I can offer you. You saints have had much taken from you, but it's unclear if there's any method to change you back. And people haven't exactly been diligent in searching for one. After all, why think too hard about the world's enigmatic phenomena when you can simply write them all off as miracles? But hasn't the thought ever crossed your mind? The being who stole your flesh, warped your bones, and corroded your minds... ...is it really God? Could your prayers not have coincidentally resonated with a different higher entity, one we lower creatures can't even perceive? Of course, this is nothing but an armchair theory. Little more than a cynical guess. But it's impossible to refute, isn't it? After all, nobody knows the exact specifics of the mechanism by which people become saints. Yet even so, you still believe. You say all mankind is capable of is prayer, and so it is our duty to pray. May salvation find us all, you say. Blessings unto all. For comporting yourself nobly, helping the weak, and thinking of God is faith manifest. How dubious. How foolish. The end of days gave us our proof—God is nothing more than a phenomenon. The Saint hated everything, and she sowed the seeds of evil. There was no noble Creator receiving your prayers. Just some alien thing that gave and took as it pleased. Why, that almost sounds like the contracts demons make, doesn't it? No, forgive me. That was hardly the way one should talk to a friend. Allow me to get back on topic. The things you've lost can never be reclaimed. Even so...or rather, because of that, is there anything you desire in their place? We intend to deliver punishment. To take the world and make it our own. And to kill every last fool who lives in it. But regardless of whether we're successful or not, the end result will be the same. No one will be saved. Eventually, all this will end. Is there something you want to obtain before that happens? Surely, there must be at least one— There...is? There is, you say?! Ah, my apologies. Even though I'm the one who asked the question, your answer still caught me by surprise. Please, I must know. As long as it's within my power, I'll get it for you. So go on, La Christoph, O Modest Birdkeeper, O devout faithful wrenched from humanity. What is it you desire? ...Ah, hold that thought. I hear Alice's voice. The Torture Princess must have finally arrived. I'll hear you out in a moment. But please don't change your mind. I simply must know. That wish you might have had fulfilled— —if only God were more merciful. Elisabeth's footsteps echoed loudly as she dashed down the hallway. The passage's walls were built out of stone, and there were no windows anywhere. However, the metal lizards and flowers mounted on ornamental pillars did a decent job of breaking up the otherwise-stifling gloom. Fortunately, there were no sliced-up corpses or viscera to be seen. Apparently, the tragedy hadn't reached the villa's center. Even so, though, Elisabeth's expression was fierce and grim. Also, a strange thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump noise was echoing in her wake. She was still dragging La Christoph along the ground. She was holding him by the collar and carrying him diagonally behind her. Although he was still largely upright, La Christoph had cleverly elected to go limp. The image of his resigned form was like that of a corpse ripped from its coffin, or perhaps that of a cat that'd grown used to its owner's tyrannical abuse. However, seeming to have suddenly remembered he was still alive, La Christoph spoke. "Might I have a moment, Elisabeth Le Fanu?" "Hmm? While we're in the middle of fleeing? If it's about the ruckus in the temple, I'll explain later." "That's quite all right. Once I realized that Izabella and Jeanne de Rais were acting separately from you, I got a fairly clear picture of the situation. At the moment, I have something else I'd like to discuss. Might I ask that you mind my hair a little more? It's getting torn to shreds." "Hmm?" Elisabeth came to an abrupt stop. She turned and looked back. It was true. After getting tangled around his shoes and robe, La Christoph's hair had met a terrible fate. There was a lot of it, so the damage wasn't immediately obvious, but there were a number of large tufts scattered about on the floor behind them. After surveying the grim spectacle, Elisabeth went silent. She lowered La Christoph a little and spoke. "Well, I am sorry about that, but was this truly pressing enough to warrant stopping me over?" "Not at all, and I myself don't particularly mind. Even if all my hair was torn from my head, as long as my scalp remained, I would consider it a victory. It was simply a bit of sophistry to get you to stop running. My actual question is about where we're going." "Even I would feel guilty over leaving you bald, but... Wait, why not simply ask that, then?!" "I judged that the hair comment would be likelier to get you to stop." "What kind of absurd judgment is that?!" Elisabeth shook La Christoph from side to side. He cocked his head. He wasn't mocking her; it was merely an automatic reaction. He then went on as though nothing had happened, his tone as serious as ever. "Allow me to repeat myself. It would seem you memorized the building's blueprints ahead of time, and we do appear to be making our way outside. However, it looks like we're taking a fairly roundabout route. Am I correct in assuming you made that choice when you noticed the irregularity?" "...If you know that much already, what meaning is there in asking it aloud?" "The decision I made to stop you was founded on sheer arrogance. But I ask you again, Elisabeth Le Fanu—as the Torture Princess, do you truly believe it's something we ought to witness now?" The look on La Christoph's face was earnest. Elisabeth thought for a moment. Saints had peculiar dispositions. No matter what was waiting for them at their destination, La Christoph would probably be fine. In other words, he was worried about the emotional blow it would deal to her. It felt as though she was being made light of. However, she refrained from voicing her complaints. Instead, she merely checked to see if anyone was chasing them. There wasn't a soul behind them for quite some distance. Alice didn't appear to be following them. But given the situation, that fact seemed highly unnatural. La Christoph's unwarranted concern is hardly unreasonable. Alice and Lewis show no signs of pursuing us...which means odds are high they're allowing us to roam free on purpose. Go. Follow. Run. Witness. And burn the image into your eyes. Abandon every last shred of hope—that was the sentence their foes seemed to be levying on them. Yet still, leaving the situation as is and fleeing will cause no small number of problems in the future. Elisabeth was all too aware that once sowed, seeds of evil quickly took root and bloomed into massive flowers. The moment you noticed them, you had to eliminate them as quickly as possible. She gave a small nod, then set off in the same direction as before. La Christoph stopped talking out of respect for her decision, staying silent even when his black hair started getting mangled again. His expression was the spitting image of an old dog putting up with a young girl's mischief. At the moment, the two of them were heading outside. At the same time, though, she was also heading for a certain location, one that was on their way—probably. However, the details were fuzzy, and she had no exact notion of its location. At the end of the day, all she was doing was following a worrisome smell. She'd noticed it after they left the prayer room, and it seemed La Christoph had become aware of its irregularity at about the same time. They were heading in the opposite direction of the corpse-strewn entrance, yet the farther they went, the thicker the air grew. Fleeing without dealing with it was an unsettling proposition, but the moment they saw its source, there was a chance they'd be overcome with despair. As she ran, Elisabeth's mind turned. In order to revolutionize the world, Lewis said he and his group created innumerable demon grandchildren. In all likelihood, that foul air was related to their taboo experiments. The vivid smell had two parts to it: the reek of blood and the fragrance of something that only mages who'd used it themselves when brewing medicine would likely recognize. An ingredient that was, in a sense, maternal in nature. It was something that had no right to be wafting through the air. Amniotic fluid. "'Twould seem we're here." Click. Elisabeth's heels clicked one final time as she came to a stop. A set of double doors with metal adornments stood before her. A short while ago, the two of them had arrived at a hall reserved for the king and guests of honor. Instead of using its main entrance, though, they'd slipped through the passageway on its right. The farther they went, the more ostentatious the decorations got. Now they'd reached an area with hundreds of lizards carved on its walls and ceiling. Each one of the overlapping reliefs had glimmering jewels for eyes, and all the lizards, large and small, were heading deeper inside, eventually gathering around the double door and forming a decorative frame around it. Other than their handles, the doors' entire surfaces were covered in silverwork scales. As Elisabeth ran her hand over their rippled exterior, she referenced her mental map of the villa. Beyond here lies the banquet hall. The banquet hall was used for all sorts of things—balls, feasts, concubines putting on performances to entertain guests of honor, succession ceremonies, and more. And even when there wasn't an event going on, it still should have been a lively space. Now, though, it seemed dark and gloomy. But that was to be expected. After all, the smell of blood and amniotic fluid was coming from beyond those doors. La Christoph freed himself from Elisabeth's grasp and hopped down. His arms still bound in chains, he deftly turned toward the doors. The low whisper that left his mouth was clearly a warning. "Elisabeth Le Fanu." "Aye, I know full well." As she stood by his side, Elisabeth looked down. A large pool was spreading on the floor beneath their feet. The liquid was leaking out from under the doors. Demi-humans rarely used carpets on account of all the sand, so the red mixed in with the liquid was clearly visible. Also, they could hear laughter from beyond the doors. It resembled the sound of children whining and crying. 'Tis hard to imagine any children being here, though. Elisabeth glared at the doors. Other than the butchered corpses, they'd yet to find a single demi-human on the premises. The concubines and king's children were a given, but even the servants all had extremely pure blood, so everyone inside had been captured and taken to the temple. Lewis and his group had probably decided to use

the empty building as a temporary base. And when they did, they'd brought something with them. But what? The grim premonition grew stronger and stronger. A sudden conviction welled up in Elisabeth. These doors would be best left unopened. The barrier between this side of the door and the other side was concealing a sight that must not be seen. However, she couldn't simply ignore it. Averting your eyes from an ugly truth did nothing to change its veracity. Eventually, it would catch up with you all the same. And when it did, it would pierce you through the back. The sole potential problem was... As I am now, how much will the contents of the other side affect me? It was a worry that the old Elisabeth would never have felt. If someone else had mentioned it to her, she'd have snorted at them. After all, she was the Torture Princess. She'd borne witness to innumerable tragedies. She hadn't just seen the First Demon; she'd had her body bound to its pillar's core. By all rights, she was on the side that created hells. Why, Elisabeth had once drowned an entire town in pain and despair, basking in its people's hateful cries like they were cheers of admiration. Loathsome Elisabeth, repulsive Elisabeth, cruel, hideous Elisabeth! A curse upon you, a curse upon you, a curse, a curse, an eternal curse upon you, Elisabeth! What was there that could still surprise her? But boasting she could take it all in, no matter what it might be, would be base carelessness. She was a different person than she'd been before the end of days. Every assumption and preconception she'd had had been violently overturned. It was difficult to predict what kinds of things would shock her now. Of all the things left in this world... Could she really witness any of them and feel no despair? Not even she could say with any certainty. Yet despite that, the Torture Princess reached out and slowly pushed the doors open. Then she saw them. With her own two eyes. The white wombs— —strewed about the room. They were smooth— —the wombs— like freshly peeled eggs. The wombs were round and horribly bloated. Stretched taut, they were smooth and sleek. They were clearly nothing more than sacks of flesh. However, they were more than just sacks. Each one had a little navel resting on its peak, and they were just barely covered in living skin. In other words, they were people, though they'd expanded in ways no living person's body should grow. Some of the wombs were female. Some were male. But they were all just flesh. They were sacks of flesh. Yet they were wombs. "I...see." After confirming what was on the other side of the door, Elisabeth let out a succinct murmur. The scene laid out before her was a good deal more graphic and repulsive than she'd expected. That wasn't to say it was overly nightmarish, though. It was simply a different kind of tragedy than the ones demons were partial to. That was her rough appraisal of the situation. As a matter of fact, Elisabeth had seen something like this before. The specifics had varied greatly, but the impression she'd gotten was one and the same. Some time ago, there'd been a case she'd been tasked with cracking. The victims, all mixed-race children, had had their beastfolk ears torn off and the fur flayed from their skulls. And despite his head being reduced to little more than a lump of muscle fibers, one boy had even survived the process. Compared with what demons did, this was child's play. But it was still so monstrous that it was hard to imagine a person having carried it out. 'Twas much the same as this. "You're not the same as me. You're different from us. We're completely different creatures. That means I can do whatever I want to you." Without that vile rationalization some people had come to, no person could create a spectacle that grisly. Elisabeth glanced over the banquet hall again. The inside was completely empty. The room was set up to be easy to rearrange on account of the various events that took place there, but now even the bare minimum of furniture it was normally adorned with had been removed. All that existed there were the wombs. Or rather, all that "lived" there were the people. Adult women, adult men, old women, old men, young women, and young men were rolling about the hall. However, it was arguable as to whether or not it even made sense to still call them people. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to call them "round, bloated wombs with human limbs and heads attached to them." That was how thoroughly the victims had been transfigured. The wombs were blown up like eggs, far past the point a human body should have been able to distend. All of them were naked, and their genitals were in plain view. Compared with the wombs' expansion, though, that seemed hardly worth mentioning. Their thighs were stained with excrement and amniotic fluid. Although these poor creatures clearly weren't being cared for, their undersized feet all had numbers carved into them, like the branding marks you'd see on cuts of meat being stored in warehouses. They looked like ID numbers. They might not have been receiving care, but they were clearly being monitored, at the very least. For how the scene was, it seemed almost industrial. Every action that had been taken leading up to that point had been utterly amoral. True, though. 'Tis surely convenient to be able to leave them lying about like that. Makes them easy to transport, too. Elisabeth took a second to think about how they'd been brought there. She nodded dispassionately. As she did, she also ruminated on Lewis's words. "I summoned a pair of weaker demons into a man and a woman, then destroyed both their egos. They had two children. Then I bred the children together..." That all falls under the purview of those whose human forms have collapsed and degraded. But then... ...What about the subsequent steps? Demon grandchildren were able to breed with humans. Lewis had said so himself. The things rolling about on the ground must have been the fruits of that research. Based on what Alice had said, women were better suited to the task. If you weren't concerned with quality, though, people of any age or sex could serve as "mothers." After all, the demon grandchildren that served as "fathers" were barely human to begin with. Their version of copulation probably took cues from their human instincts, but the act itself was closer to a magic ritual. In short, whether or not the other party had genitals was of little concern. That said, there seemed to be some variation in the victims' swelling, irrespective of their sex. It was revolting, but at the same time, highly intriguing. Elisabeth thought some more. Lewis wanted me to breed with demon grandchildren and have two babies. In short, he judged that the first birth wouldn't be life-threatening. Even though the conception method looked more than deadly. But Alice hadn't seemed like she was lying, either. She really did plan on reuniting Elisabeth with Kaito Sena. Between her and Lewis's reactions, a reasonable assumption would be that powerful mages didn't go through the physical deformations. And the correlation between the victims' swelling and the amount of mana they had supported that thesis. 'Twould seem the babies consume their host's mana as nutrients. However, that gave rise to a new question. Why did the "mothers" who didn't have enough mana swell up? But the answer to that was simple. When the babies couldn't get their nutrients from mana, they hastened their growth so they could use something else instead. After growing until they had teeth, they feasted on their mothers' flesh and organs. And that was no mere theory; it was being proven by the moment. The sound of chewing was audibly coming from inside the wombs. As the sloppy noises grew louder, the mothers began silently flailing their limbs about. They couldn't even open their mouths to scream. However, the laughing, crying voices continued. The voices weren't coming from the mothers. They were coming from the unborn babies. The fetuses knew nothing of their mothers' wills. Yet they danced all the same. At that point, Elisabeth stopped pondering and closed her eyes. Amid the darkness, she quickly sorted through the many things she'd seen and heard on her journey to reach those double doors. The mixed-race folk tried once to pardon their long history of oppression. But then the end of days came, and in the mayhem, the slaughters took place—tragedies senseless enough to make civil officials vomit. And after that, they continued. A boy had the flesh flayed from his head while he yet lived, and similar events were a frequent occurrence. If any of those things hadn't happened, the scene before her probably wouldn't have come to be. But they all had. Time marched mercilessly forward, leaving mistakes perpetually unatoned for in its wake. As a result, the mixed-race folk chose to cast off their role as innocent victims. Proclaiming oneself weak in order to oppress others was unforgivable. Yet even if they knew they wouldn't be forgiven, they would no doubt continue down their path. That was what it meant to be an avenger. The world's unrelenting malice and apathy had forged them into that. Those who take are taken from in turn. Ultimately, the mixed-race folk were even stripped of their humanity. That was simply the way things were. That was the sad, sad way things were. Elisabeth's silky black hair swayed as she turned to the side and looked up at La Christoph. "What do you intend to do?" she silently asked him. His response was a dignified nod. Then he solemnly spread his bound arms wide. A metallic, alien clank echoed out as the thick chains fell to the floor. Bloody amniotic fluid splashed around them. La Christoph had cast off his restraints. His crossed arms were parted, and his chest was laid bare. Most saints had undergone changes to their bodies and minds that would normally be impossible, and La Christoph was no exception. All the flesh surrounding his ribs had been shorn away, and he had no lungs or internal organs to speak of. Instead, his ribs were filled with little birds, which were made out of light and resembled skylarks. They were sacred beasts. Overuse of his powers during Ragnarok had left his ribs stuck open, but now they were healed and serving their purpose as a cage once more. He was the Birdkeeper, and he was a "living birdcage." That was La Christoph's nature. And when the Modest Birdkeeper undid his chains, it could only mean one thing. Elisabeth quietly posed a question to him. "So you agree, too, that there can be no other end to this?" "I've already confirmed it. The creatures nesting in their wombs possess amounts of mana no normal human could bear. Even the ones who have not swelled up as much are in a similar state. Their organs are destroyed, and their hearts have all stopped. However..." "In spite of all that, their bodies are alive... Their senses—particularly their sense of pain—are intact, I take it?" "Demons seek pain. And demon children are no different. It's a cruel situation. At this point, their only options are to die giving birth and to die without giving birth. Thus, the question becomes what the merciful thing to do is, and for that, I defer to scripture and my own faith." La Christoph made his declaration without hesitation. His voice was cold and resolute. "I shall grant you salvation, O wretched ones. For who but a saint to bear the burden of purifying you?" Elisabeth offered no response. In a rare turn of events, there was nothing

for her to do here. If Kaito Sena were here, what would he do? If his reaction to the Room of Pain was anything to go off, he would have been furious. Trembling with rage, he would've cried, Don't you have even a little respect for the living?! For the deed he'd be faced with belied no respect for them whatsoever. Yet even so, he'd have chosen to put them out of their misery himself. This isn't purification. This is murder—and it's a burden I should be the one to bear, he'd have said. He was simply that kind of person. But Elisabeth wasn't. She cared little about who in particular dealt the coup de grâce. After all, it didn't change the result. The ones death awaited would die, nothing more. She took a step backward. La Christoph nodded. Despite his lack of lungs, he took a deep breath, then began chanting his prayer. The words had a pleasant heft to them as they echoed through the room. "We gather and wait." "So hark and rejoice." Suddenly, a different voice cut in. Elisabeth narrowed her eyes. The voice was Lewis's, but he wasn't there with them. Elisabeth looked up at the ceiling. The countless lizard engravings were all looking down. One of their eyes must have contained a magic communication device. The wombs responded to his distant call by beginning to vibrate. Then the sacks of flesh started undulating from within like lumps of soft bread dough. Laughter sounded from within them, crying echoed out from them, and the two merged into a single perverse melody. Elisabeth could tell. 'Tis a song. A song of blessing— —and a song of joy. The voices were celebrating the most basic pleasure known to any living creature—birth. "The hammer falls on thee!" "Be born unto joy and love!" La Christoph and Lewis's voices overlapped completely. Lewis's words were ironic and bordering on blasphemous, but at the same time, they were completely true. The mixed-race folk sought greater weapons. The babies' birth would bring them joy. And the babies would surely be loved. Elisabeth knew. No matter how malignant a weapon may be... ...Any blade that lopped off a hated foe's head would be loved all the same. And the world would keep turning, just as properly as ever. ""Ah, aah, ah, AH, ahh, AAAAAAaaaaaaAaAaAaAAAAAA!"" The choruses rang out. La Christoph's ribs opened. A vast flock of skylarks took flight. As they did, the wombs burst open. A perversely satisfying popping noise filled the hall as skin split and tore. Chunks of fat and flesh sprayed through the air. Organs, now fully liquefied, gushed out as the babies thrust their gray arms upward. It was a horrible, grisly spectacle. Yet even so, someone had wished for that birth. Seeing that made Elisabeth realize something. Perhaps the world, which turned so properly— —had been doomed from the very beginning. *** "...Hmm?" Then a very out-of-place voice echoed through the air. Elisabeth instinctively whirled around. A mass of copper-red fur was racing toward her like a fireball. Her eyes went wide. Without a moment's hesitation, the voice's owner brandished his sword. *** "Why, you're—!" With an air-splitting cry, the man leveled a beautiful slash. The broad side of his sword grazed Elisabeth's hair, then smashed the face of the baby who'd been stealthily approaching her. Amniotic fluid splashed around her would-be assailant as it crumpled to the ground. "There's more coming!" The man slammed the back of his blade into another one's abdomen. It did a tailspin through the air, then slammed into the wall with a horrible splatting noise. Good eye, Elisabeth thought, nodding in admiration. Slashing attacks didn't work on demon children. They may have been defective products, but the babies had still inherited their parents' physical properties. The man had probably learned this from the huge number of Ragnarok foes that couldn't be harmed by swords. He was instinctively using his long sword as a bludgeoning implement. Not only was it clever, but his blows were also quite fast for how hefty they were. Yet as always, he relies too heavily on brute strength. "Phew... That should keep us safe for the time being." After confirming that their foes had been temporarily rendered powerless, the man—a beastman with a copper-red wolf's head—exhaled heavily. Elisabeth was well acquainted with the fighting style, as well as with the man using it. In the Peace Brigade, which she was captain of, he was her second-in-command. He was a seasoned warrior, and when Kaito Sena had been around, he had been one of his closest friends. But more importantly, he was someone who had no business being there. "Lute!" Elisabeth turned to her subordinate, who should have been at the World Tree, and shouted his name. "Ah, Madam Elisabeth, you're all right! Ah, er, Captain Elisabeth, rather. To think it's been this long and I still haven't gotten used to it... I beg your pardon for my persistent rudeness!" "It's fine. I can't say I much care how you refer to me, but what in the blazes are you doing here?" "Well, you see, Captain Elisabeth, I— Why, I say!" Right as Lute was about to answer, the babies hunched over like animals and rushed toward them all at once. They had the curiosity of children, and it would seem Elisabeth and Lute had piqued their interest. A veritable wave of gray arms came reaching for them one after another. Lute desperately batted their soft, pliable hands away with his sword. "Damn you cowards, grouping up like that! Face me one at a time like men!" "...Hmph." Lute may as well have been talking to a brick wall, but he continued shouting nonetheless. It was no wonder he and Kaito Sena had gotten along. As Lute struggled alone, Elisabeth quickly counted the babies. The ones in the group's center had been burned up by the skylarks, but many of them had escaped evaporation. This is looking to be quite a hassle... Come to think of it, how's La Christoph holding up? Elisabeth glanced to her side. La Christoph was completely unharmed. For some reason, though, he was tilting his head to the side. It didn't look like he was emotionally shaken or anything, but he seemed to be having trouble wrapping his mind around Lute's sudden arrival. Once she realized that, Elisabeth finally figured out what was going on. "Hmm... 'Twould seem that while you're fit to command in dire situations, when it comes to matters involving yourself or unexpected aid such as this, you're a little slow, aren't you? Or rather, quite slow, 'twould seem." "It's a weakness all saints share, but I do have deficiencies when it comes to common sense and knowledge of customary reactions. As such, I'm afraid I can't make an accurate comparison, but...if the worldly Torture Princess says it is so, then I imagine you're right." "I don't know about 'worldly.' It merely... I don't know... It seemed as though you were spacing out—" "Rgh! What are these foul creatures?!" Elisabeth blinked in surprise. Now that she noticed, Lute's situation had grown somewhat dire. One of the babies had grabbed hold of his sword and was gnawing on its point. In seconds, it began crumbling away into sand. Flustered, Lute fell back. The moment he did, Elisabeth snapped her fingers. "Holy Water Sprinkler." Several spiky iron balls came crashing down from the air. Each ball happily bounced around, landing on the babies' heads over and over and riddling them with holes. Fountains of blood gushed up and painted the ceiling red. As the babies crumpled to the ground, the balls bounced back and carefully ran their bodies over. After a certain point, the babies couldn't take the attacks anymore, and their bodies broke down. Darkness and crimson flower petals splashed down and floated atop the amniotic fluid. Shortly after, the babies breathed their last. Lute heaved a sigh of relief. He retrieved his sword and inspected the damage to the blade. Before he could get far, though, he sensed Elisabeth's questioning stare bearing down on him. He leaped to his feet and began talking. "Ah, that's right! You wanted to know what I was doing here. After we parted ways, our group successfully rendezvoused with the World Tree's guard squad. Your prediction was right, Madam Elisabeth—nobody else was harmed. Then after we relayed the sad news of the imperial princesses' passing, we heard about the attack on the demi-humans. When I found out you went in alone, I knew I couldn't merely stand by, so I searched high and low for some way I could help...but my men stepped in to stop me before I could make too big a fool of myself. But right when I was truly at a loss, he invited me to join him." "...Who?" "Then we decided to rescue you together! Now, um, I realize it's a bit late to ask, but...what were those things?" Lute's tail curled up timidly. Elisabeth narrowed her eyes. Now she finally knew how Lute had been able to act so normally. He never saw the "mothers," nor did he see the babies themselves being born. Elisabeth cast her gaze back inside the hall. Not only had the mothers popped, but many of them had been completely burned away. Now their charred, scattered remains were barely even recognizable as having been human. After seeing the light from La Christoph's attack, Lute had probably charged in without thinking about things too hard. He still didn't understand what had actually happened there. It was very like him. But perhaps it was also for the best. Someone like Lute would be happier not knowing the tragedy's specifics. However, Elisabeth thought, frowning, who in the world could have invited him there? Jeanne and Izabella aside, I find it hard to imagine anyone who would dare to try rescuing the Torture Princess and the saints' representative with a mere two men. In fact, she couldn't think of a single person who might. She racked her brains, baffled. The moment she did, there came a peculiar sound. Elisabeth whirled around once more. A new individual was walking their way, his pointy shoes clicking as he did. He spoke in a hoarse voice. "I can't say I condone charging in without confirming the situation first, Sir Lute. And not only that, but you left me behind as well... Our races have been close for some time, true, but goodness gracious, how your people's hotheadedness irks me..." The man was garbed in a coarse robe designed to keep out sand. Claws and scales gleamed on his hands. He fussily adjusted the glasses atop his lizard nose. It was often difficult to make out a demi-human's facial expression, but the sarcastic smile on his face was all too plain to see. Elisabeth was shocked. Of all the people she'd been expecting to see, he certainly wasn't one of them. "Aguina? Aguina Elephabred?!" "Just Aguina is fine, Madam Elisabeth Le Fanu. I'm aware of how troublesome our surnames are for people who aren't used to pronouncing them. If you try too hard, you're liable to bite your tongue." The demi-human high official gave a small bow as he replied. He was in charge of much of his country's foreign affairs, so he spent a fair bit of his time in the World Tree. He must have been abroad during the attack, fortunately allowing him to avoid it. Still, Aguina is a dyed-in-the-wool blood purist. It would have made sense if he'd headed for the temple, but there was no way he'd be putting himself on the line to save her and La Christoph. That wasn't the Aguina she knew. Aguina seemed to have sensed Elisabeth's doubts, as the look in his eyes softened a little. "Why so surprised? As I hear it, the people in the temple have already been saved. And if that's the case, then I have but one

duty. True, it might not normally seem like any of my concern, but I heard him just as well as anyone—'this here will be our daybreak.'" That line was part of the statement the boy proclaiming himself to be the Mad King had made. Back then, the child who'd died a meaningless death in another world had spoken words of encouragement to the three assembled races. "There's no need to be ashamed. Take up your swords and ready your spears. Our mission is to murder God, and to murder Diablo. Prayers won't bring us salvation; screams won't bring us mercy. The only thing we have to rely on is our own strength. "This here will be our daybreak. Let Ragnarok begin." "The sun has in fact risen—thus, we must do everything in our power not to let it set." And with that, the man who normally had no interest in anything but blood purity gave her a meaningful smile. 9 The Choices They Made The mean old lizard said to a Queen of Hearts, That he met in the castle, "Let us both go to law: I will prosecute you. —Come, I'll take no denial; We must have a trial: For really this morning I've too much to do." Said the Queen of Hearts to the mean old lizard, "Such a trial, dear sir, With no jury or judge, Would be wasting our breath." "I'll be judge, I'll be jury," Said the mean old lizard: "I'll try the whole cause, and condemn you to death." Oh my, Father, it's not like you to look so sullen. What's wrong? "What's with that weird song," you ask? It's not weird. That's rude, Father! ...Hmm-hmm, well, if you say so. Oh, you want to know if I came up with it? Well, sort of, but also, not at all. The thing is, I based it off the Mouse's poem from Alice in Wonderland. So you see, I came up with it, but also, I didn't. Is it an ironic song, you ask? Oh, sure, maybe. Is it a happy song, you ask? I don't think so, no. Um, well, I just swapped words in and out as I pleased to help kill time while we waited, so I can't say for certain myself, but... ...maybe it isn't a sad song, so much as it is a lonesome one? Trial, judge, jury... There were a lot of hard words I didn't understand, but back when I first read it, I made sure to look aaaall of them up. Impressive, right?! Hee-hee...and, um, I found out that one person can't do all those things alone. That means the lizard's a liar. And lying is such a lonesome thing to do. Death is oblivion. But it isn't the end. Even if someone died, as long as the world was still there, a part of them lived on. Kaito Sena is dead. Yet even so— He'd left traces of his life etched vividly in the world. And it would seem that the painful way he'd lived his life had influenced some most unexpected individuals. The first was Maclaeus Filliana. In a surprising turn of events, the real king had ended up coming to admire the false one. Learning the specifics of Kaito Sena's heroic life had helped him find the resolve to change his passive, unmotivated lifestyle. And the second was the demi-human high official Aguina Elephabred. The words the Mad King had left him with had driven him to come save Elisabeth and La Christoph. As someone who'd inherited the Sand Queen's blood, it was his duty as a blood purist to value his own safety over that of members of other races. For him to risk his life over a non-demi-human was beyond unthinkable. His actions were an exception among exceptions, to the point where they bordered on sacrilege. Yet in spite of that, he seemed sure of them. Aguina's robe fluttered as he took the lead and strode off down the hallway. Although he left Lute to man the rear, he didn't look particularly worried about running into new foes from the front. He shouted back to the others. "Make haste, everyone! Sir Lute, that goes double for you—you may be heading up the rear guard, but shouldn't a military man entrusted with defending his nation like you are be able to pick up the pace a little more than that? Is that long tail of yours getting in the way, perhaps?" "Sir Aguina, I say! You would go so far as to besmirch my fine tail? We wolffolk take great pride in our... Hmm? Ah, now that you mention it, they're starting to nibble on it, aren't they? Hey, unhand me at once! Off! Off, I say!" "...That is why I mentioned it, yes." "Elisabeth, I'm concerned that you've forgotten, so allow me to remind you once more that I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own. I would greatly appreciate it if you were to stop dragging me. I'm starting to worry about my scalp being torn off." "You can walk, but you can't run to save your life! And besides, you were long overdue for a haircut anyway!" Elisabeth's group had quickly become quite lively. Aguina was leading up the vanguard and guiding them back the way they'd came. As they whizzed past the lizard carvings on the walls, wet, sloppy noises echoed out from behind them. The babies had made their way out of the banquet hall. They crawled across the floor on their ashen limbs, the ones with umbilical cords still attached to their "mothers" ripping and tearing the cords as they went. The babies' movements were surprisingly clumsy, but terrifyingly fast all the same. It was like they defied every law reality attempted to enforce. One of them reached out and tried to grab Lute's tail again. All the fur on his body bristled up, and he quickly accelerated. The babies apparently found that amusing, and they cackled behind him. Elisabeth clicked her tongue. "Tch, 'tis naught but a hassle that we were unable to finish them off quickly! Why, I've half a mind to crush the lot of them like bugs!" "I empathize wholeheartedly, but I do ask that you restrain yourself. I would rather that we not get buried alive along with them. Plus, think of how expensive the villa would be to rebuild." "That last part is the least of our concerns at the moment, is it not?" "I'm told that you humans are in dire financial straits, and our belts are just as tight." Aguina readjusted his spectacles as he gave his detached response. Elisabeth clicked her tongue again. Her original plan had been to kill all the babies inside the hall. But as Aguina had pointed out, their only option at the moment was to flee. Perfected demon grandchildren—vessels with power that bordered that of the ranked demons—would have been one thing, but there was next to no chance the Torture Princess and the saints' representative could lose to incomplete, part-human vessels designed for breeding instead of fighting. However, even Elisabeth had been forced to admit that continuing to fight wasn't an option. The reason was simple. At that rate, the building was liable to collapse. They'd reached that verdict shortly after Aguina showed up. The babies had just started to regroup. The way they were reaching out their fleshy gray arms seemed almost innocent. La Christoph narrowed his eyes. The skylarks, following his lead, began flapping their wings in unison. He began chanting his prayer once more. Before he could get far, though, Aguina hastily rushed to stop him. "Not so fast! Please look over there!" "Don't just come butting in. What in the world are you...? Ah, I see. Well, that's not good." After looking at what he was pointing at, Elisabeth quietly nodded. Part of the wall had been completely obliterated, and large cracks were running up the support pillars around it. As they looked at the alarming spectacle, Aguina went on. "The eastern villa isn't nearly as fortified as the temple, and the banquet hall in particular wasn't designed to endure violent combat. Continued bombardment will likely push it past its limit. And with the stargazing tower situated atop the hall...depending on how it fell, it could very well destroy the entire villa." "Allowing the damage to spread that far would be a problem indeed... Besides, using a saint's power indoors was nigh suicidal to begin with. 'Twas an oversight on my part. Now, I would offer to use my torture devices, but then their individual resilience becomes an obstacle." Elisabeth cast a fleeting glance at the ground. Aguina gave a small nod of agreement. The entire stone floor was covered in cracks and fissures. It looked like an egg that was about to split open. The blame there lay squarely with Elisabeth for having dropped her Holy Water Sprinklers and caused them to bounce and roll around. Any sort of large-scale attack ran the risk of destroying the villa, but anything less than that was liable to be ineffective. That being the case, though, what was the best way to take them all down without damaging their surroundings? Whatever their plan was, its first step would almost certainly involve gathering all the babies in one place. "Hmm... I've a number of ideas, but there are simply too many foes here for any of them to work. What to do, what to do?" "Hraaaaaaagh!" Elisabeth began thinking of ways to go about attacking them. Meanwhile, Lute continued his desperate struggle. It looked like the babies were grouping up again. Lute was doing his best to keep them at bay with his sword, but he wasn't having much luck. In fact, the babies seemed to merely view him as an exciting new toy. Aguina, paying no heed to Lute's continued plight, raised his hand. "I have a clever idea, actually. What do you say?" "You? A government pencil pusher who knows next to naught of battle?" "None other. These are our lands, Madam Elisabeth, and as such, we hold the advantage." Aguina proudly adjusted his spectacles. Elisabeth harrumphed, then went silent. However, she quickly gave her answer by grabbing La Christoph by the collar. Lute, sensing her intentions, drove the nearby babies back with a tornado-like slash. And as for Aguina, he'd already set off without waiting for their responses. Elisabeth turned around, then called back to Lute as she followed behind Aguina. "Make haste, Lute!" "As you wish!" "Ah, so it's back to this again." La Christoph obediently let Elisabeth drag him off. His expression was the very image of resignation. That was how they began their dramatic escape. Now, though, the situation had changed. Elisabeth and the others ran into the entrance hall. She raised her head and looked around. The first thing she spotted was the large staircase leading to the chamber the king stayed in when he visited. The passageway to the concubines' and children's living quarters was tucked quietly behind it. And if you went to the left, you could reach the dining hall. All they had to do was open the main entrance, and they'd be outside. They could probably also find the servants' passageway if they looked for it. Whichever they picked, though, the babies would invariably follow them. Elisabeth narrowed her gaze. A teleportation circle would allow us to flee immediately...but even here, we're still too close to those creatures. 'Twould be an unmitigated disaster if Alice were to take notice and interfere with the circle. And besides, we chose to investigate the babies of our own volition. 'Tis our duty to thin the enemy's ranks while we can, but... ...If the demi-humans ended up demanding compensation for the damage Elisabeth and the others caused, that would be a problem in its own right. After all, they were a famously stubborn people. As Elisabeth pondered, La Christoph raised his hand. Still slanted

upward, he offered Aguina a proposal. "If I bombard them after we make it outside, the villa will remain unharmed. Most of the front garden will get blown away, but...given the circumstances, a sacrifice such as that seems trivial. That's my recommendation. How does that sound?" "I most certainly object, and that should go without saying! Please don't ask for my approval if you know I'm not going to give it." Aguina immediately let out a roar of protest. La Christoph tilted his chin down toward his neck and went quiet. It was difficult to tell given the way his body was slanted, but perhaps he was trying to hang his head. That was when the babies stormed into the entrance hall. Elisabeth clicked her tongue. "Tch, always so fussy over every little thing. Why not offer a plan of your own, then?" "With pleasure! Feel free to use that as you please." Aguina responded to Elisabeth's complaint by pointing overhead. His long claws glinted. Elisabeth looked up, then nodded. Aguina was right—it was perfect. "Ah, I see—then use it, I shall." She raised her right arm straight up and sliced her fingers to the side through the empty air. A biting gust of wind mimicked her motion and cut through the air overhead. Crimson flower petals burst in its wake, like blood gushing from a wound. The demi-human concubines were forbidden from going outside as they pleased. As a substitute, though, the villa was adorned with all manner of ornamentations for them to feast their eyes on. And the entrance hall was no exception. Unlike the temple's exceedingly practical lighting system, the hall's high ceiling was lit by an elaborate chandelier. However, the chandelier's design was somewhat peculiar. Its form was broad and elaborate, calling to mind the image of a vast piece of driftwood mounted in the air. Either that, or the inside of a snake nest. Its designer had used soft metal to depict a mass of various types of snakes all coiled around one another. From a human perspective, it was enough to evoke a sense of physiological revulsion, but the demi-humans probably saw it differently. Each of the myriad snakes held a magical light-emitting jewel in its mouth, and the cluster extended all the way across the wide ceiling, hung delicately balanced with a series of thin, firm chains. With one fell blow, Elisabeth sliced those chains clean through. After the initial loud snap, the chandelier made its descent astonishingly quietly. As it did, Elisabeth and the others all quickly leaped away. Elisabeth also gave La Christoph a forceful hurl. His expression was as calm as ever as he glided in a smooth arc across the floor. Then an earsplitting KSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH filled the air. The chandelier had come crashing down onto the babies. However, they didn't seem particularly affected. The most that happened was their springy flesh became a bit depressed. But for a moment, they stopped, as though a giant hand had pressed down on them from above. The ones near the outer perimeter had gotten caught up in the mess of snakes. That opening was plenty. "—'Tis done." Elisabeth tapped her shoe against the ground. The moment she did, the ceiling and floor slammed together, crushing the babies and the chandelier alike. Or to be more precise, a pair of large, flat stone slabs crushed them. The two round slabs were adorned with a single golden rod that looked like a barrel organ's handle. Elisabeth loudly raised her voice. "It has been some time since I deployed this one! The Wheel of Death! Let the grinding commence!" With that, the rod began spinning of its own accord. A horrible noise rang out as the two slabs started spinning in opposite directions. First, a screaming sound resonated from the chandelier as it creaked and shattered. Then the babies started getting whittled down as well. When their skin split, though, it came apart more like stone being shaved down than like meat being ground up. None of them screamed. They merely let out fretful little whines. Countless tiny hands scrabbled between the two slabs. The way the babies' gray arms were writhing, they looked like caterpillars about to be smushed. One of their heads popped off. It rolled between the slabs, only coming to a stop when it bumped into another head. A disturbingly viscous mixture of flesh and blood oozed onto the ground. Slowly but surely, the babies' heads were being flattened. Their eyeballs made popping sounds as they flew out of their sockets. If it wasn't so grisly, it would've almost been funny. But then all of a sudden, the scene reached its end. When the pressure surpassed the babies' ability to endure it, they exploded into darkness and azure flower petals. The two stone slabs thumped as they finished grinding together. Only silence remained. "Hmm, as abrupt as it was dull. 'Twould seem their mental faculties were low indeed." Elisabeth nodded, then snapped her fingers. When she did, the Wheel of Death transformed back into flower petals. Crimson, azure, and black all scattered around the room. The brilliant bouquet of colors then whirled up and vanished, leaving a flattened hunk of metal lying on the floor as the only proof the grim scene had even taken place. Upon further inspection, it was the remains of the chandelier. It was an odd sight, yet a perfectly normal one. And with that, the babies were no more. "Good heavens... I'm glad to see you took them all out. I was on the verge of losing my tail there." Lute breathed a sigh of relief and perked his drooping ears up. However, they slumped right back down once he saw how mangled his tail had gotten. "Oof. I don't exactly know what those things were, but they resembled demon underlings, and I could tell they were no proper bunch. Now we can finally focus on escaping." "Precisely. We need to make haste, as though we were pursuing a white rabbit... Oh? La Christoph, I must say. Saint or not, your hair is in quite a sorry state. It's hardly befitting a man of your stature. Why, what kind of example do you think you're setting for your people in that state? With your permission, allow me to straighten it out for you." By then, La Christoph was back on his own two feet. Thanks to his rough treatment at the Torture Princess's hands, though, his hair was thoroughly disheveled. Aguina smiled in exasperation and circled behind him. Using his long claws in place of a comb, he began working the knots out. Apparently, he had an unexpectedly doting side to him. Lute looked warmly at them as he sheathed his long sword. Elisabeth's expression reflexively softened. But the moment it did, she was struck by a tremendous feeling of discomfort. Why was I about to smile? Elisabeth was perplexed. It was odd for the Torture Princess to be smiling in the first place. But there was also a bigger, more pressing problem. Alarm bells were going off in her mind that this was no situation to be smiling in. Elisabeth closed her eyes to try and get her thoughts in order. Suddenly, she imagined someone wrapping her in an embrace. A man's white-gloved fingers were creeping over her skin as though caressing her. Then her beautiful foster father brought his lips to her ear. "Whenever did you go so soft?" *** The voice was dripping with scorn. Vlad wasn't actually there, of course. He was still confined in the royal tomb's basement. In short, the voice was Elisabeth's own, mocking herself for her idiocy. She quickly flipped through her memories to try and track down the source of her unease. Eventually, an image of Alice drifted up through the darkness. The white ribbons on her hat swayed from side to side as she spoke her incomprehensible gibberish. "And then down, down, down. Alice fell down a very deep hole. Even though I wasn't chasing a White Rabbit. But at its end, I found Wonderland. See, it's simple, right?" "Alice, I've told you time and again. People from this world aren't familiar with your Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass stories." Afterward, Lewis had scolded her. And remembering that reminded Elisabeth of something. The reincarnated girl's stories, Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, were completely foreign to people from their world. And yet a certain someone had just said something that sounded awfully like a quote from one of them. "...'We need to make haste, as though we were pursuing a white rabbit.'" As Elisabeth murmured the words back to herself, she pictured the vast desert. The demi-human lands were home to golden sand, harsh winds, burning liquids, myriad minerals mass-produced in the Dragons' Graveyard—and towering stone walls. But they certainly aren't home to any white rabbits. So then why was that the first analogy that had sprung to Aguina's mind? And now that she thought about it, that wasn't the only strange thing that had happened. Given the man's standard routine, it was perfectly plausible for him to have escaped the tragedy due to being abroad. But then...what of his claim, when he said, "As I hear it, the people in the temple have already been saved"? Maybe Jeanne and Izabella had made their way back to the World Tree, but given the time frame, there was no way Aguina could have possibly made it to the villa if he'd gone to their arrival site, confirmed that all the demi-humans—including all the ones from the second sector—were all right, and only then recruited Lute on his mission. And besides, Jeanne had known she wouldn't have finished in time to help Elisabeth—that's why she'd told her she was on her own. How had Aguina known that the rescue mission in the temple was complete? How had he known that Elisabeth would be in the villa, rather than the main palace? Whom had he heard the phrase white rabbit from? But because of the dramatic entrance he'd made, nobody had thought to ask those questions. "Aguina... Aguina Elephabred!" Elisabeth called out his name, omitting the specifics of her concerns. The demi-human high official slowly raised his head. In that moment, Elisabeth realized a number of things. Or rather, she couldn't help but realize them. Aguina's thin-pupiled eyes had lost their usual sarcastic gleam. Instead, his golden gaze was as still as a lake shore. The look in his eyes was serious and tinged with a hint of sadness. Yet even so, it was curiously sharp. It was the gaze of a man pitying the world from on high. And it was the gaze of a man who knew he had sinned. Something black softly grazed Aguina's cheek. Long hair rustled by him as the man before him collapsed. Elisabeth's eyes went wide. However, she wasn't particularly surprised, nor was she particularly angry. For all the scene's cruelty, it made a certain kind of sense. For that was simply how he was. And thus, this was the natural result. As La Christoph crumpled to the floor— —the gleaming, scale-handled dagger buried in his back came into view. "Huh?" At first, Lute merely let out a dumbfounded cry. Elisabeth and Aguina faced each other in silence. La Christoph lay facedown on the ground, unmoving. His partially open lips were faintly visible through his mane of black hair. He silently coughed up blood again and again, the thick red droplets falling feebly to the ground. Elisabeth took another look at the dagger in his back. The entire length of its blade was covered in purple liquid. She flipped through her memories of Ragnarok, then identified it. 'Twas when the three races faced off against the underlings surrounding the Diablo pillar—they started the battle with a volley of poison arrows. And they hadn't just been any old poison arrows, either. The poison had come from the underlings themselves. The

healers of the three races had analyzed the underling corpses, reproduced their poison, and passed it along to Kaito Sena to have him strengthen it further by imbuing it with mana. Not even a saint stood a chance of neutralizing it. After the battle, the beastfolk had taken the leftover poison for safekeeping. There was no restriction on demi-humans visiting the section of the World Tree that it was kept in, but getting their hands on it couldn't have been easy. Instead of asking about any of the specifics, Elisabeth merely murmured: "How very thorough." "At this stage of the game, failure would have stung the keenest, you see," Aguina replied nonchalantly. Lute gaped as he looked between Aguina and La Christoph. Eventually, though, his gaze settled on the dagger. It would seem he'd finally realized what was going on. Lute ground his fangs. "Why?" "Why what? Which part of it, might I ask?" "Why...did you fall?" The exchange was exasperatingly vague. Lute's question, in particular, was far more ambiguous than befitted a man of action like him. Yet at the same time, it got at the heart of the matter with the precision of a needle. Every relevant question had been boiled down into those four words. However, Aguina didn't answer. In the blink of an eye, Lute drew his long sword from its sheath. His red fur bristled up like a raging fire, and his eyes were brimming with hatred, anger, and remorse. Elisabeth thought back. Back when everyone else was celebrating the end of days having successfully been prevented, Lute alone had continued agonizing. His own weakness and lapse in memory filled him with a deep shame. In that moment, he'd probably sworn to himself never to lose anyone again. Yet now even though the danger was supposed to have passed, someone he was in charge of protecting had died yet again. He was literally watching it happen before his eyes. La Christoph wasn't breathing. One of mankind's vital cornerstones had been felled. Lute's roar split the air like thunder. "You would sink that low? YOU WOULD SINK THAT LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW?!" "Do you have any children?" "What?" Lute was on the verge of charging Aguina, but he couldn't help but stop in his tracks. However, Aguina didn't try to take advantage of the opening his non sequitur of a question had given him. He merely continued, as though simply making small talk. "Well, everyone knows how devoted of a husband you are, so I assumed that surely you must have a lively little ankle biter or two running around." "N-no, we've been trying, but..." "Ah, now I remember. Your wife is a goatwoman, isn't she? As I understand it, fertility rates between different subraces are low... Do forgive my discourtesy. I'll be praying for you two to be blessed with a healthy child." "What kind of sick joke are you—?" "We demi-humans are the same, you know. We, too, suffer from low fertility rates." Aguina raised his voice to cut off Lute's angry cry. Lute ground his teeth. Once more, he'd missed an opportunity to charge. Aguina spoke matter-of-factly. "Unlike your Three Kings of the Forest, our Sand Queen is but one person. As such, we demi-humans don't have subraces the way you beastfolk do... My goodness, when did it get like this? You know, when the end of days was looming, I told the Mad King the same thing." Aguina gazed off into the distance. From his expression, it seemed as though he was waxing nostalgic for events a century past. Elisabeth found that fact rather strange. The end of days was long over. A foolish boy had sacrificed himself to stop it. By all rights, everyone should be celebrating their newfound peace. So why was it, then, that everyone she met seemed to yearn for those bygone days so fondly? Why did their faces look like that— —when they remembered that hellish nightmare? Once again, Elisabeth thought back on the same question. What exactly would proper salvation have looked like? "'Unlike the Three Kings of the Forest, our Queen has long since entered her eternal slumber. Understanding the anguish of our constant decline is beyond other races'—that is what I'm talking about." "What do you mean?" "What I mean is what I said." "You mean, that's it?" "What more could there be?" Lute asked. Aguina answered. Their gazes met. Then Aguina slowly spread his arms wide and elaborated. He was so composed that it seemed hard to imagine he'd just committed an act of murder. "Your late first imperial princess, Madam Valisisa Ula Forstlast, saw it as well. 'Even now, the beastfolk and demi-humans combined can't compare with humanity's numbers. If we assume the underlings will attack all three races in kind, then after Diablo's threat has passed, when we take the respective damages into account, the gap in power between humanity and the rest of ours will likely only grow.' And she was right—the chance to overcome that gap has passed us by. And to make matters worse, we demi-humans suffered an additional blow she didn't factor into her prediction." "...The slaughter in the third sector, and the attacks on the first and second, I take it?" "Exactly. Thanks to the Mad King, we avoided suffering crippling fatalities, but the women and children who perished that day were a heavy loss. If we were to suffer another calamity on that scale, we'd be unable to support pure bloodlines for more than a few more generations at most." "What, and you think this is that calamity? You yourself were the one who said your people in the temple were saved. Does that not mark the calamity's end, as far as you're concerned?" As she asked the question, though, Elisabeth got a vague inkling. There was something she'd overlooked; she was sure of it. Something that nobody but the demi-humans themselves could possibly know. "It was pointed out to us many times that the pureblood sector's defenses were lacking. As Madam Valisisa so frequently reminded us, 'the pureblood sector's defenses are designed to protect against overland invaders and mixed-blood uprisings. They didn't even consider that attacks might come from above.' However, tearing down the sector boundaries to mend that oversight was deemed infeasible. That's why long, long before the end of days, we made a backup." "...A backup?" Elisabeth raised an eyebrow, and Lute looked just as confused. Elisabeth thought for a moment. Mankind's Church had grown twisted in a similar way. When people grew blindly fixated on an ideal, it could lead them to conclusions that others wouldn't even dare imagine. That blind fixation had led the Church to sound the bugle on the end of days. What had it driven the demi-humans to do? "We gathered up a group of people devoted to the cause of preserving our blood purity and founded a settlement in the Dragons' Graveyard. That way, we wouldn't have all our proverbial eggs in one basket if anything were to happen to the pureblood sector—but the settlement fell into the rebels' clutches." "Wh...why, I've never even heard of such a settlement!" "I should think not. We've been friends with you beastfolk for many years, but we made sure never to breathe a word of it to you." Aguina gave Lute's shock a matter-of-fact response. Given that this was the case, it went without saying that they hadn't told the humans, either. After all, their view of humanity was that they were exclusionary elitists, not even aware of how human-centric their worldviews were. "How did the mixed-race folk come to learn of it, then? 'Tis nigh absurd, no, losing this backup of yours in such a manner?" "The settlement is hidden away well between the dragons' bones, so considering that and the fact that the underlings focused on attacking more populous areas, things didn't get dire during the end of days. However, those mixed-race bastards were able to locate it by spending decades tracking our supply lines. For that is how deep their fixation and hatred run." Elisabeth nodded. The demi-humans were obsessed with blood purity, so it stood to reason that the mixed-race folk would hold them in deep loathing. Plus, those of mixed race were observant and dedicated. The moment they noticed an irregularity in the demi-humans' distribution network, like a caravan traveling along a route it wasn't scheduled to, it would simply be a matter of time before they got to the bottom of it. And thus, the settlement had fallen into unexpected hands—those of the worst enemy imaginable. "If they kill off the settlement, preserving our bloodlines will be extremely difficult. No...with the world as dangerous as it's become in the end of days' wake, it may well prove impossible. So when they offered to leave the settlement be in exchange for my betrayal, I complied immediately. If that was all it took, I considered it a trivial price to pay." Aguina didn't care whom he had to kill or what he had to destroy. As Lute held his sword, his hand twitched. "You craven little... Not only did you turn on us for selfish reasons, you dare boast about the act? You take pride in what you've done?!" "Of course. No amount of grieving, boasting, laughing, or crying will change who I am or what I need to do. Why not be brazen about it, then? And also, Sir Lute, back to my original topic..." "What, you think you and I still have anything to talk about?!" Aguina's words were similar to ones the Torture Princess herself had once uttered. To the dead victims, it was all the same. However, being confronted with that cruel fact would drive most people to anger. But when Lute readied his sword, Aguina merely pressed on. "My son and his family live in that settlement." Lute was visibly shaken upon hearing that. Familial love was an emotion he could easily sympathize with. Because of that, a question had no doubt sprung to his mind. What if it were his beloved wife who had been taken hostage? If that were the case, and if making that choice would simultaneously advance his people's interests, how could he possibly say no? From the demi-humans' perspective, Aguina's decision was no doubt right and proper. Yet even so, Elisabeth spoke. "I've two questions to pose to you. Why are you people so obsessed with blood purity? And also...do you truly intend to continue supporting the mixed-race fold as they move to seize control of the world?" The demi-humans had said over and over that other races could never understand the plight of their decline. But Aguina's beliefs, if nothing else, were founded on something firmer than that. His actions seemed to have concrete reasons behind them. And the second question was only natural to want to pose to someone who was in the process of betraying the world. The mixed-race folk were aiming to completely revolutionize the world. Were the demi-humans merely hoping to earn enough goodwill to be spared? Aguina let out a small sigh. He raised two gleaming claws. "Sadly, both your questions have but a single, simple answer." "Out with it, then." "The Mixed-Race Massacre." *** He was right—it was simple. They'd reached their conclusion long ago. Everything, from the very beginning to the very end, tied back to that one foolish act. Mankind had allowed that tragedy to play out, and at that rate, the power disparity between them and the rest of the world was only going to grow. The question then became, which would be better—being ruled by the mixed-race folk or being ruled by the humans? After all, those were the only two choices. And by that point, humanity had proven they couldn't be trusted. Both the other two races saw that fact as plain as day. Apparently, the humans were the only ones who'd failed to realize the implications of living in a world that had survived the

end of days. "There's little love lost between us and the mixed-race people. But even so, we're more sympathetic toward them than you are—and also more pessimistic. If nothing else, mankind's population is huge. As our people's blood grows more and more diluted, your people will end up assimilating us. And I have little hope for the future that awaits our children once we lose even our nation. Our culture will be exterminated, our riches will be plundered, and the new mixed-race folk will be driven into poverty. For that is the way such things inevitably play out. Protecting our blood purity is important to preserve our people's dignity—in fact, it's absolutely essential. As I see it, we have no other choice." Aguina calmly laid out the reason for his obsession with blood purity. Lute found himself at a loss for words, overwhelmed by Aguina's flowing argument. Eventually, though, the simple beastman spoke up. "B-but once the races become that intermingled, surely the laws will change to reflect that fact. At that point, there'll simply be no distinction between humans, beastfolk, and demi-humans. They'll only live together in—" "And just how long do you think it will take to reach that idyllic state of peace and equality? Sir Lute, this is no time to be discussing pipe dreams and fantasies. I believe I've made my answer perfectly clear." And so he had. It was obvious that he wasn't going to be changing his mind anytime soon. Humanity had both heralded the end of days and committed the Mixed-Race Massacre, and the rebellion taking place was the direct result of their crimes. Aguina went on. "As Madam Elisabeth's subordinate, you were never informed, but not even Madam Vyade, the Wise Wolf and the second imperial princess, trusted the humans. Given the ongoing rebuilding efforts, the tiniest spark could have burned everything down, so we all held our tongues. But she spent just as long as we have trying to figure out an appropriate way to demand reparations from the humans for the losses we suffered during the end of days." "...What?!" Lute's eyes went wide in shock. He staggered. However, Elisabeth didn't find that fact particularly surprising. And at the same time, she knew. The only reason things had been so peaceful those last three years was because there was another reason the demi-humans and beastfolk couldn't come down too hard on the humans. Lute, practically shouting, spoke that reason aloud. "But the world wouldn't have even been saved if not for Sir Kaito Sena!" "Aye—because the rest of you sat back and did nothing." Elisabeth's voice was low. Lute's whole body shook, and Aguina narrowed his gaze at her. His eyes twitched, and he tilted his head at the scornful words being directed at the races that had lost so much. "I beg your pardon? Would you mind running that by me one more time?" "Until the end of days came about, until the Mad King made his move—what can you claim to have done?" The seeds of destruction had been sown all throughout their world, yet everyone had overlooked them and assumed they weren't their responsibility. They'd taken a horrible sinner and forced all their problems onto her. And this was where it had gotten them. The Mad King hadn't been able to prevent all the tragedies, no. But he had prevented the end of the world. And the fact that he was from another world notwithstanding— —he was nothing more than a tiny, insignificant human. "I've little interest in assigning blame. Decide that on your own as you please. And I'm well aware of how far faith in mankind has fallen. But allow me to say this: What of your tragedies? What of your discrimination? What of your massacres?! As far as I'm concerned, none of that matters in the slightest!" "E-excuse me? Madam Elisabeth?" Lute's eyes went wide in a way that they never had before. After all, his direct superior had just taken a nuanced, intricately tangled series of causes and effects and hurled them all out the window. Surely, they mattered, didn't they? However, Elisabeth had no intentions of recanting her statement. If saving the world and destroying it are both but mere matters of personal selfishness... ...Then the decision to trust, doubt, hate, or love someone was also just a matter of personal sentimentality. Based on how those emotions piled up, they could very well bring about the end of days. The problem was, who would bear the burden of what would come after? And what would those who bore nothing say? "Aye, there was plenty of tragedy and despair to go around. I shan't ask that you join hands like brothers. I shan't ask that you try to see eye to eye. I shan't even ask you to forgive them. There can be no atonement for deeds such as those. But you would fear a blade that hasn't even been unsheathed yet, to the point of creating tragedies anew? You would abandon mankind, betray the world, and get in bed with rebels merely to survive? And moreover, you would ask me to pardon such acts? Not likely, I say—for in the end, you and mankind are no different. You cling too cravenly to life." Elisabeth bared her teeth. Once, a small portion of mankind had committed horrible acts in fear of death. And this was the exact same. The demi-humans were using the Mixed-Race Massacre to justify their own actions and claim the moral high ground. It was all the same. Justice had vanished long, long ago. "After being protected by one who believed in everyone, saved by one who believed in everyone, and allowed to live freely in a world where he now is forced to slumber...you would spout such careless drivel? I find it baffling! Utterly baffling!" Elisabeth laughed. Humans and demi-humans were both baffling. The boy had known just how horrible people were. He knew that fact remained true, even across worlds. Yet even so, he saw the world as beautiful. Because that was where the people he cared about lived. "So I'll protect it," he'd boasted. He'd smiled to the very end. And now they were trying to rob that smile of its meaning. Even though they were the ones he'd protected. "Everyone is the same. Indeed, even I. We're all but swine, hideous beyond compare. Humanity, demi-humans, beastfolk, mixed-race folk—when you view us not as individuals, but as groups, none of us are deserving of belief in the slightest. Yet even so—" Even so? Elisabeth abruptly trailed off. Even so, what? What could she say? Why, she didn't even know what proper salvation looked like. But then suddenly, someone picked up where she left off. "Yet even so—I believe. Even to this day, I believe. I believe that God's in his heaven, and that all's right with the world." "Huh?" "What?" "Hmm?" Elisabeth, Lute, and Aguina all let out dumbfounded cries. In unison, the three of them turned. And when they did, they saw the corpse, knife still embedded in its back, slowly rise. 10 The Saint's Declaration Shall we be off? There's no need for us to hurry as though we were chasing the White Rabbit. Even so, we should stop sitting around like the Caterpillar. It would seem that everything proceeded according to my instructions. Aguina's probably carried out his task by now. It really was unfortunate that we couldn't find common ground with those two nonconformists. Now that negotiations have broken down, we have no choice but to thin our enemies' ranks. However, I find it unlikely that Aguina would be able to catch the Torture Princess by surprise. The saint, though, is another... What is it, Alice? I don't look well? It's true, I've been better. The anguish hasn't faded. For in truth, even I know. Vengeance merely begets vengeance. Despair is a vicious cycle. And demanding atonement from people with no direct connection to the massacre is absurd. Our rebellion will bring about nothing but new tragedies and fresh victims. We don't stand to accomplish anything, and it won't bring anyone happiness. But that's fine. Hell only exists within the mind, and ever since the end of days, there's been a fire burning inside me, one that no amount of rain or tears can quench. So what choice do I have but to throw oil on it? That way, it can burn and burn and burn and return this whole damn world to ash. Then once all the hatred and rage and sadness are gone, I'll finally be able to rest in peace. Nobody will have to cry anymore. But nobody will be able to smile, either. Well, so be it. If anything, the fact that people have been able to keep smiling after a tragedy like that is more perverse still. They live such carefree lives, and they're long overdue for atoning. Because if they don't, I won't be able to forgive them. Nor will my comrades. And the dead won't be able to move on. Still, though, a thought does cross my mind sometimes. If only God were more merciful. Were that the case, there might have been another way. But even if there were— —I'm sure I would have still chosen the same path. It's stupid, I know. Nothing but irredeemable stupidity. Just that. Nothing more. "First of all, I'd like to set your minds at ease. Your initial assessment, that I was dead, still holds true. As of now, I can no longer be counted among the living in good faith. Counting me among the dead is far more apt." "Concern for others should hardly be your top priority in a situation like this! And besides, 'tis illogical for a dead man to be moving... Ah, no, I see now. You didn't have a heart or lungs to begin with." Upon hearing La Christoph's overly earnest statement, Elisabeth squeezed the bridge of her nose. The Modest Birdkeeper had lacked many key organs from the beginning. As a saint, La Christoph was a man who existed on the boundary between life and death. Even the poison coursing through his veins wasn't enough to keep him from being able to speak. That being said..., Elisabeth thought as she shifted her gaze. After double-checking his wound, she shook her head. "...How long until you break down?" "I'm afraid I can't say. I'm no healer...and even if I were, I imagine I would have quite a difficult time diagnosing a nonliving body. That aside, the necrosis is advancing rapidly. Once my body fully decomposes, even these lips I'm talking with right now will rot away. It won't be long until I transition from a 'talking corpse' to a mere pile of flesh." "Y-your body... What in the...?" "I'm aware of how unseemly it is, my good beastman soldier, and I'm sure I'm not very pleasant to look at right now. However, I do ask you quell your fears to the best of your ability. This body was granted unto me by God, and as such, I take great pride in it." Lute had let out an alarmed yelp at La Christoph's grim condition, and the saint gave him a calm reply. La Christoph's cheeks had begun slowly caving in, and his gums and teeth were visible through the round holes in them. Meanwhile, his eyes were growing dull from their outer perimeters inward. Elisabeth had been right—he was little more than a rotting corpse. The poison burned through human flesh like it was nothing. Even without organs to destroy, enough damage to the outside of his body would be enough to end La Christoph's existence once and for all. The fact that he was still able to move despite the horrific transformation he was undergoing seemed too cruel to be called divine protection. If anything, it was closer to a curse. Even so, though, Lute hurriedly saluted him. "My deepest apologies! I consider

it a great honor to be able hear the final words of the saints' representative...and I can only pray that you will forgive me for my abject failure to protect you." "As far as that's concerned, you have nothing to worry about. I simply left myself open for a moment. More than just a moment, in fact. But that was all there was to it. May God's blessings and guidance be with you henceforth." "Goodness me, I can't say I expected this... Who would have thought he was this inhuman?" As Lute expressed his respect for the dead man, and La Christoph responded with gratitude, Aguina let out an astonished murmur. He reflexively adjusted his already perfectly straight spectacles a number of times. "I even knew how alien your body was, so I should have been more careful. It would seem I've been negligent." "Not at all, Aguina Elephabred. Your plan succeeded. I'm well and truly a decomposing corpse now. I see no need for anyone to chastise you. Don't you agree? I'm sure this is enough to satisfy you...my friend." La Christoph directed the firm statement behind Aguina. Elisabeth narrowed her eyes. Black darkness and azure flower petals were dancing at the edge of her vision. After revolving about in a spiral, the two colors compressed themselves into a sphere. Then with a pop, the sphere burst like a balloon. A girl in a blue bondage dress and a man in all black stood in its wake. It was Alice Carroll, the Fremd Torturchen, and Lewis, the mixed-race rebel. For some reason, Alice was pouting with her cheeks puffed up. She glared at Elisabeth. Lewis cast his expressionless gaze toward La Christoph, then murmured quietly to the saint on death's door. "For your edification, as well as his... Yes, this was all part of my scheme. It's a great shame, though, La Christoph. I really did believe that you and I could become friends. None of that was a lie. Yet you chose to flee with Elisabeth and slaughter the babies. Given the nature of saints, it's perfectly reasonable we weren't able to see eye to eye, but...there's still just one thing I can't for the life of me make sense of." "What might that be?" "Your compensation. The reward you felt was worth destroying the world and betraying all creation for. You told me that the world was going to end regardless, but there was something you wanted to obtain before it did." Elisabeth nodded slightly. It made sense that they'd offered La Christoph compensation as well. As Lewis talked, the stench of rotting flesh grew ever stronger. The skin sloughed off La Christoph's fingers. However, neither of them seemed to be in much of a hurry. Lewis posed his question with the utmost sincerity. "What exactly were you planning on asking me for? Please do tell me before you rot away." "A star." "What?" "I was going to ask you for a star." It wasn't just Lewis—Elisabeth, Lute, and Aguina all looked utterly baffled as well. The request wasn't just impossible; it was flat-out nonsensical. It certainly wasn't something one could demand in exchange for destroying the world and betraying all creation. And it wasn't something that made sense for a saint to want, either. It was like the kind of silly thing a child would dream up. La Christoph offered no particular reaction to their shock. He simply went on, his voice unfailingly tranquil. "Back when you asked me what I wanted, a memory from before I was canonized suddenly welled up inside me. It was night, and I had glanced up above the walkway's covering. I don't know what season it was. I don't know what happened before or after. But for a moment, a fragment of that scene spread in front of me like a painting. I saw the beautiful stars speckling the clear night sky, and I remembered how, on that day in my childhood, I wanted one of them for myself." "...That sounds like little more than a trifling whim." "Is it, though? Up until I remembered that, I had never once felt a single earthly desire, such to the point where it caused me to doubt whether or not I was really even human. Yet it turned out that even I once cradled something akin to a wish." La Christoph spoke almost as though he were talking about someone else. He blinked. The moment his swollen eyelids opened back up, his left eye spilled out and fell to the ground. Undeterred, he asked his question with a childish earnestness. "Well, my friend? Had I made the request, would you have been able to grant it?" The answer, of course, was no. It was a fundamentally impossible wish to grant. Lewis remained silent. La Christoph smiled, his empty eye socket in full view, then spoke once more. This time, his voice was that of an adult lecturing a child. "We all are foolish creatures. We let greed blind us, we let fear sway us, we let death terrify us, we lose sight of God, we neglect our prayers, and we commit sins for selfish ends. Yet so, too, are we taken with absurd notions such as wishing for stars. That's simply the kind of beings we are. Abstract and fleeting as they are, we see beauty in beautiful things, and it inspires us to dream. Would you deny even that foundation and cast it into the void? Would you place shackles on those who've yet to sin?" "Please stop talking. That's enough. You and I will never see eye to eye; that's abundantly clear to me now. You needn't strain your throat any further before you rot away completely. I'm sure just breathing is painful enough." "You speak of my pain, but...have you truly considered what it means to judge even the sinless? Are you truly prepared to accept the gravity of destroying the potential for children to look up at the sky and dream?" "I said, that's enough!" "Will it be enough to satisfy you, my friend? O ye who called me, La Christoph, a friend." There was no reproach in the decaying saint's voice, only sincere concern. After all, there was no way to sate the hunger that was vengeance. Only hell awaited those who tried. However, Elisabeth knew he was being naive. Lewis's response was immediate. "I'm just as much a living corpse as you are. Satisfaction was never my aim. But as things are, I cannot die. That's all." No matter how hard he struggled, he would never find salvation. Lewis himself admitted that, just as Elisabeth had expected him to. He had chosen the path of vengeance after having his forgiveness utterly betrayed. He hated the world and, as such, had decided to destroy it. He knew his wounds would never heal, but he had no choice but to fight on anyway. Even if it meant nobody would be saved. Upon hearing the avenger's words, La Christoph shook his head. "Then this is what I have to say—to you, and to all the other sinners, may you find salvation." Suddenly, La Christoph moved his arms. His white bones were stained with bits of flesh and exposed all the way from his palms to his wrists. Trembling, he raised his torso upright. Inside his rib cage, the skylarks were violently flapping about. They could sense their keeper's imminent death. In stark contrast, though, La Christoph himself wove his words together leisurely. Hearing that, the skylarks grew still. "We gather and wait." "Father..." Alice's voice was stiff as she looked to Lewis for guidance. Meanwhile, La Christoph continued his prayer. As he did, the situation inside his ribs took on an even greater change—the skylarks were melting much the way his flesh was. "I bow before thee and make now my humble entreaty." ...Hmm? Suddenly, a chill ran through Elisabeth. La Christoph's prayers were a way to convey his will to his divine beasts, and through them, God, whom he was directly connected to. The specific words he used weren't important. As such, he would often make minor changes to them to reflect the situation. But that very clearly wasn't what was going on this time. La Christoph continued his appeal, stretching his prayer longer and longer. "Hear me, O Lord. I offer up my body and prayer as praises unto thee, kneeling before you and prostrating myself that I might make my request. Please grant mercy unto all those who ask for forgiveness." Those...those are the Words of a Sacrificial Lamb. Elisabeth could sense it. It was a saint's final prayer they would ever direct toward God. And it marked the moment of their death. As he spoke, his connection to God grew stronger than his flesh could withstand. The dissolved skylarks began melting together as viscously as honey. The resulting liquid had a glossy golden sheen, and it gushed out of his ribs and began coursing through his frail veins. The divine beasts were encroaching on La Christoph's body and filling him to the brim. It was an utterly horrifying transformation. Lewis silently gave Alice's back a little push. Her eyes flashed, just like they had once before. "Why yes, that's right—bad little boys don't get to come to our tea party!" Alice flicked her wrist, and a teaspoon manifested out of the air. She clearly intended to kill La Christoph before he could launch his attack. Elisabeth and Lute got ready to intercept. But then something happened the moment before her little hand could catch the teaspoon. "Huh?" Whiff. Alice's wrist passed it by, then continued on through the air in a straight line. Her arm had been sliced clean off. The teaspoon clattered to the ground. Elisabeth blinked, as did Lute. Neither of them fully comprehended what it was they'd just witnessed. And Alice, it seemed, was no different. She gazed at her arm and the blood gushing from it and let out a bewildered cry. "Huh? What? Huh? I'm fine, but it hurts all the same. Who did—? Hweh!" "Alice, I know it hurts, but you can't let your confusion distract you. Fall back." Lewis retrieved Alice's arm by snatching it out of the air, then used his other hand to grab Alice by the hem of her dress and pull her backward. Not a moment later, a sharp blade carved a second slice through the air right where her head had been just a second before. The blade's wielder was neither Elisabeth nor Lute. It was a third party, one who looked remarkably familiar. At some point, an oddly familiar figure had appeared before Alice and Lewis. They were short, and their body was covered in tattered black rags. Their face wasn't visible beneath their hood, but there was a dagger faintly peeking out of the edge of their sleeve. And it was a dagger Elisabeth recognized well. It was the dagger a certain man had once used to slice his own arm off. "...Butcher?" The words dribbled weakly from Elisabeth's lips. Lute gasped in disbelief. However, the figure offered no reaction. From beneath their rags, they silently kicked at the ground a few times. Red blood raced across the floor, then formed a circle around Elisabeth and Lute. Darkness and flower petals began gushing up into the air as a teleportation circle traced itself at their feet. Elisabeth, immediately realizing what was going on, ground her teeth. You would have us flee?! Aye, the situation calls for retreat. But—! La Christoph's bombardment was going to be stronger than ever before. Being in the same room as him was hardly an option. Now that there was no risk of him getting killed before his attack could go off, escaping was the prudent course of action. La Christoph had no doubt made the choice he had out of a belief that the two of them would be able to get out on their own

in time. However, leaving this bizarre situation as it was wasn't the greatest plan, either. In spite of that, though, the teleportation circle began activating on its own. Lute made to dash out. In a flash, Elisabeth reached her verdict. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back to her side. "La Christoph! ...Rgh, Madam Elisabeth, why?! La Christoph's going to—!" "No. Stay. If we flee the circle now, we'll never make it out in time. We shan't know what's happening, nor whose work this was, but...we can't stand to lose any more valuable personnel." "But—!" "La Christoph is already dead. If your sole objective is to save him, you'd best cast it aside. All it will bring about is more bodies." Elisabeth's voice was cold and hard. Lute gulped and went silent. With his shoulder still in her hand, he ground his fangs and stopped trying to move. Meanwhile, Elisabeth continued staring at the dark figure's back. The short, tattered-clothed figure stooped over a little. They were looking at La Christoph, and when they did, the saint seemed to see inside the figure's hood. His remaining right eye went wide. His collapsing face curled into a grotesque smile. Seeming somehow relieved, he let out a murmur. "Ah... So...y...ou.........came..." As disjointed and faltering his voice was, it sounded remarkably calm. The next moment, his right eye rapidly swelled up from within and ruptured. Blood and putrefaction fluid dribbled down his cheek like tears. Elisabeth shifted her gaze toward Alice. Alice was in the middle of struggling to reattach her severed arm. Plus, La Christoph's body was about to give out. Now was their only chance. However, she was aware that La Christoph's consciousness would be hazy, so she knew she had to call out to him. Even though she also knew that doing so would spell his death. "La Christoph, now!" "...Ah...yes. Thank you...for telling...me. I will put an end...to this." The Torture Princess had told the dying man to die. La Christoph opened his mouth and spoke with unbelievable clarity. He imbued his prayer with his firm will as he brought it to its close. His closing words were ludicrous, a prayer that would never be granted. "—And may salvation find us all." Suddenly, his back split open. Flesh and spine came bursting out, and a voice outside the range of human perception split the air. Something had broken free from the cage that was La Christoph and was beginning to take flight. A pair of golden wings unfurled. They belonged to a massive bird, larger than even the ones La Mules had once wielded. Appearing to have deemed La Christoph's innards a hindrance, it sprayed them across the room. As it did, a red wall rose up to obscure Elisabeth's vision. Yet even so, she saw it all the same. When the man who'd devoted his life to prayer and devotion met his end, it was hideous, gruesome, and surprisingly tranquil. La Christoph quietly closed what little remained of his eyelids. His face was that of one who didn't doubt for a moment that his prayer had reached God. And his expression was that of a boy looking up at the stars. He smiled— —knowing that God was with him. 11 Her Quiet Murmur "...Father? Hey, Father?" "Alice, don't force yourself to talk. You may be accustomed to pain, but I'm sure this is harsh, even for you." "Oh, no, I'm fine... If I'm not talking, I won't be able to keep calm. That was awful. Truly, truly awful. Dark magic doesn't work right against sacred beasts. Even though I used Humpty Dumpty, my legs and arms are lying all about, like in Mother Goose's 'The Untidy Man.' Why, it's a wonder I even survived. But I'm just glad you didn't get hurt, Father. You didn't get hurt, did you?" "No. Thanks to you, I'm fine. I'm sure everyone will sing your praises, saying I don't deserve to have a daughter half as wonderful as you." "Tee-hee. Well, that's good, then. I got a compliment from you, Father, and that's plenty enough for me. It was awful, though, the way the lizard man survived by sneaking into our egg." "He is working with us, you know. Please find it in yourself to forgive him." "Oh, all right... By the way, Father, were you looking for a friend?" "...What makes you think that?" "Well, it looked like you were trying to get along with that bird guy... So I was wondering if you'd wanted to be friends with him." "I suppose I did. But I misjudged him. He, too, was one who was taken from, but he and I weren't able to understand each other. "The two of us could never have become friends. The cloths we were cut from were simply too different." "Oh, I see... Well, that's sad." "And I'm sure you're disappointed, too, no? You'd been looking forward to it so much, but you weren't able to make the friend you'd hoped." "Ah, that's right! That's right; Elisabeth was horrid! She would get mad out of nowhere and go on and on about the most confusing, incomprehensible things! I was so sure she'd be able to understand my pain. So why, I wonder?" "That should go without saying, I think. Your very existence lay outside her ability to comprehend, young lady." "Shut up, lizard man. Next time you talk out of turn, it's off with your head! But that's right... Maybe she just got the wrong idea about me." "...The wrong idea, hmm?" "She's too far away to talk to now...but you got the wrong idea about me, Elisabeth. We're the same, he and I. Kaito Sena's position and mine are opposites, that's all. And good and evil can change ever so easily. "I'm sure you know that, too. "So I'm confident that it won't be long." The image of burning gold was covered up by a crimson wall. The bloody hue filled Elisabeth's vision. Soon, small fissures began spidering their way across the wall. Then with a sharp crack, it shattered, exposing a sight that Elisabeth was quite familiar with. It was a well-sanitized room that had been built in a massive recess inside a tree. Cots were lined up at regular intervals atop its smooth, level floor, and flower-laden vines hung from the ceiling as makeshift curtains. They were in the area that had once been set up as the World Tree's interim infirmary. Even after the end of days was averted, they'd decided to have it continue operating as is as a countermeasure against exceptional disasters. At the moment, the room was filled with the smell of disinfectant—but that wasn't all. There was also the rusty reek of blood. Elisabeth quickly glanced around the room. There were drops of blood on the floor between the cots, and the infirmary's patients were all huddled in a corner. Due to Elisabeth and Lute's abrupt arrival, they were looking at them with shock on their faces. What exactly happened here? What had happened, and how had it ended? A few healers were about, cleaning the soiled ground with hygienic masks covering their mouths. One of them looked up. After giving instructions to the other confused healers, the goat-headed woman walked over to Elisabeth and Lute and removed her mask. "I can't say that's the way I expected you to come back, Lute. In theory, only those who've received permission from the World Tree itself can teleport in or out of it. It came as quite a surprise, seeing you appear like that." "Ain? You're back from your dispatch already?! And that blood... What in the world happened?!" It was Lute's wife, Ain. Upon hearing her words, Elisabeth frowned. It was true; the Three Kings of the Forest's home, the World Tree, was no easy place to invade. Yet she and Lute had been sent there directly, and by a mysterious individual who'd been dressed the same as the Butcher, no less. In short...whoever they were, they had the World Tree's blessing? "The group of demi-humans who took refuge in the World Tree was suffering from acute fatigue, so I was asked to return at once. Also, I heard that our people had been attacked, so I knew we would need skilled healers. I came back as quickly as I could, but...as you can see, the situation turned ugly." "What happened? You're not hurt, are you, dear?" "If I were wounded, do you think I would be so negligent in treating it?" "No, I suppose not... Then who—?" "Some of the demi-humans turned on you, then?" Elisabeth cut Lute's question off with one of her own. Lute's shoulders jolted. It was an obvious conclusion to draw. After all, there was no way that Aguina Elephabred was the sole demi-human who'd turned against the three races. Plus, the World Tree was hard to attack and easy to defend. However, nobody would have expected an attack from within, and the demi-humans from the first sector, the royalty, and the high officials had already been invited to evacuate here. For the traitors, it was the best opportunity imaginable. It still wouldn't be easy, but if they could cause a panic and kidnap the Three Kings of the Forest during the mayhem, victory would be theirs. However... "Given that you're spending your time cleaning, though, I take it you avoided the worst-case scenario." "I see it won't be difficult filling you in. After they arrived, and while they were being led to the area with the guest quarters, the demi-humans turned on us. The human king came running, but they captured him, then began making their way to the lower levels. Some of them even tried to use themselves as suicide bombers to stop our forces from pursuing them—but before they could, their explosives were all disabled. We had Madam Izabella Vicker and Madam Jeanne de Rais to thank for that." Elisabeth nodded. That made sense. Jeanne turned into an idiot when it came to matters involving Izabella, but for everything else, she was quick on the uptake and calm and decisive when she acted. Throwing her for a loop was no easy task. If the hostages she'd been charged with protecting turned on her, she wouldn't hesitate to demolish them. "The human king is safe now. Most of the fighting happened around the guest quarters, but a group of demi-humans who'd been brought to the infirmary tried to take the other patients hostage by force, so we had to deal with them." "Hmm? You mean to say the carnage here was your doing?" "Not to worry. Most of this is from little more than nosebleeds. We may have caused hemorrhaging in a few lungs, but nothing serious enough to do permanent damage." Ain was forthright with her answer. Beastfolk healers couldn't use magic, but their skill with herbs was unparalleled, and they had extensive knowledge of the three races' physiologies. Plus, although Elisabeth hadn't known about it, it would appear they also went through regular military training, perhaps so as to be able to function better when they had to serve as battlefield medics. A pained look crossed Lute's face. It looked like the two of them might have quarreled about the subject in the past, but now it had come as the situation's silver lining. However, Ain's gaze darkened. "That said, the situation quickly got messy. The thing is, not all the demi-humans were working with the traitors." "...They weren't?" "Many of them—women, children, the king's relatives, and the like—hadn't been apprised of the coming rebellion. Is that about the shape of it?" "That's right. They were shocked, and some of them even tried to protect us. At first, we couldn't make sense of any of it. At the moment, most of the insurgents are imprisoned in the cells...but the ones who hadn't known about their plans are being held together in the central plaza, and the Three Kings

of the Forest are currently debating their fates." Lute reacted to Ain's initial statement with bewilderment, but Elisabeth immediately sussed out the reason behind the internal division. Yet again, it all came back to the demi-humans' obsession with blood purity. Aguina and the other traitors had wanted to make sure the citizens with the highest and second-highest grade of blood purity didn't get completely wiped out, so they probably concealed the information about the hostages and the traitorous demands being made of them from some of their comrades. They knew that if they kept them from being complicit in the betrayal, the beastfolk would spare them. That way, even if the mixed-race folk lost, the demi-humans' roots would survive. Elisabeth thought back on Aguina's words. "Protecting our blood purity is important to preserve our people's dignity—in fact, it's absolutely essential. As I see it, we have no other choice." Aguina was willing to prioritize his people's dignity over his own happiness to the bitter end. His family had been taken hostage, and on top of all that, the betrayal he was being asked to make served to advance his people's interests. At that point, how could anyone possibly say no? From the demi-humans' perspective, Aguina's decision was no doubt right and proper. 'Tis a hideous choice, one devoid of reason—yet even so, I've little doubt that man intends to see it through. As Elisabeth thought, a conflicted expression crossed Lute's face. "Madam Elisabeth, I'm heading to the cells to confirm the situation. Then I have to go to the imperial family and the Three Kings of the Forest and tell them what we know about the demi-humans' betrayal." "Aye, good. 'Tis important that a report be given, and they'd never grant me an audience with the Three Kings. Be off." "Pardon me, then. And, Ain, I'm glad you aren't hurt. We'll talk more later." After calling over to his beloved wife, Lute left the room. As Elisabeth watched him go, she suddenly realized something. Why had Aguina asked Lute to come with him? Part of it was probably to use her subordinate to get her and La Christoph to lower their guards. On that front, the gambit had been a complete success. However, there was another important reason as well. Instead of having to relay the information through Elisabeth, Aguina wanted Lute, as a beastman, to see the situation and the choice Aguina had made firsthand. That way, it would serve as a question. The mixed-race folk are starting an uprising. The humans have been betrayed. The demi-humans did the betraying. Now—what will the beastfolk do? Two of their imperial princesses had been murdered. Even though there was no way they'd work with the mixed-race folk, there was still the possibility of them joining forces with the demi-humans in the coming war. Unlike the demi-humans with their captured settlement, the beastfolk had no clear reason to fight. But that was why Aguina had gone out of his way to share his fears about the future with Lute. Mankind had caused a tragedy. Yet even now, the power gap between them and the other two races continued to grow. At some point in the future, the minorities were going to find themselves absorbed. So would they rather be ruled by the mixed-race folk, or the humans? That was the choice they had to make. Humans weren't even aware of how exclusivist they were. And both the other races knew it. In the end, what will the beastfolk do? Elisabeth gazed at Lute's back as he receded down the hallway. She wordlessly clenched her fists. It's time for a story. A beautiful, poignant fairy tale. Three years ago, the world very nearly met a tragic end. However, that seemingly immutable fate was altered by a single person. And the one who accomplished that miraculous feat wasn't a grand hero of any sort. He was a boy who had reincarnated from another world following a life of abuse and a meaningless death. He got a second chance at life, then had a number of experiences, some horrifying and some irreplaceable. Then after a long series of battles, he obtained a colossal amount of mana and used it to save someone precious to him. And while he was at it, he saved the world. By sacrificing himself. After burdening himself with God and Diablo, the boy fell into a deep slumber at the World's End. Thanks to his deeds, the people of the world managed to avoid the apocalypse. The greatest good for the greatest number was, surely, the greatest outcome. It was a tale of admiration, foolishness, and love. But whenever someone's story ends, there are some things that yet remain. With its lease on life renewed, the world continued on. But the bells would eventually toll on a new curtain's rise. For that is the way bells and curtains are. However, every single thing about the new story— —is hideous and vile. A gust of wind struck Elisabeth on the cheek. She was standing out on a balcony. It had been built atop one of vast branches that jutted out from the World Tree. She stood there and silently looked down. There was a long scar on the ground that cut through the forest surrounding the World Tree—Vlad's handiwork from the end of days. Modest had never exactly been part of the man's vocabulary. Things inside were tumultuous, but out there, it was quiet and still. A flock of birds flapped their way across the pale-blue sky. By then, day had already broken. Elisabeth opened her mouth and broke the silence. "So why follow me here?" "Why, indeed...? I'm not sure even I can fully explain it." Ain had come to stand beside her at some point. Ever since Elisabeth had left the infirmary, Ain had been walking alongside her. Ain took off her face mask and gazed up at the sky with her inhuman eyes. For a little while, the only sound was that of the birds. Eventually, though, Ain quietly spoke. "There was a day, once, when I asked a young man who seemed like himself, yet at the same time, like someone else, if he was well. He smiled and said he was fine. 'I'm still me, after all...' Even to this day, I'm not sure if it was my duty as a healer to stop him or not." "...Hmm. I don't know who it is you're speaking of, but he sounds like a most foolish man indeed." "Mm, and I suspect that this might be why I followed you." "Hmm? I don't follow." "You remind me of him quite a lot. You were both harshly wounded, you were both filled with resignation, and you both refused to lose what was important to you. He may have been a sinless soul, and you may be a peerless sinner, but the two of you have the same eyes. And one other thing." "That being?" "I only just found out, but I'm pregnant." *** Elisabeth couldn't help but let out a hysterical yelp. The birds resting on the World Tree all hurriedly took off. Ain was the very image of composure, but in contrast, Elisabeth's mouth hung wide open. "No, wait, surely Lute, not I, should be the first to hear—" "Now, I can't claim to know all the specifics of what's going on." Ain cut Elisabeth off and continued. She gently stroked her belly. Elisabeth narrowed her eyes. The imperial beastfolk princesses had been murdered, and the demi-humans had betrayed them. Those were the only two things Ain knew. However, that was more than enough to realize that peacetime was over. Ain's next words sounded almost like a prayer. "All I wish for is a world where our child can live with a smile on their face." "Are you truly prepared to accept the gravity of destroying the potential for children to look up at the sky and dream?" The reason Ain had said that probably had to do with how similar the Torture Princess was to the Mad King. He had once saved the world, and Ain's subconscious had driven her to make the same wish to the person who most resembled him. And at the same time, Elisabeth heard La Christoph's words overlaid with Ain's. For a short moment, Elisabeth had her breath taken away. The situation was utter chaos. It was unclear which path the beastfolk would take, the humans were idiots, and the Torture Princess had no idea what the best option would ultimately be. And yet... In a world forcibly made even through revenge, some things will invariably be lost. "Excuse me, I need to go speak with Lute." There were some things that simply couldn't grow in the soil left in hatred's wake. Instinctively realizing that, Elisabeth turned to leave. The moment she did, Ain looked up in shock. With an ominous feeling in her gut, Elisabeth stopped in her tracks. The heavy flapping sound of wings had filled the air. The next moment, countless figures filled the sky. Thousands upon thousands of birds had all taken flight at once. It was like a storm, or like a black cloud blotting out the sky. It was a bizarre sight, and certainly not one that had come about naturally. The birds were utterly terrified. Then from amid the countless figures— —an imposing voice boomed through the sky. "Hear ye, ladies and gentlemen! "Let my words be heard as a record of our subservience. Let them be heard as a lamentation of the humiliating lives you've forced us into. Let them be heard as a cry of rage at the cruelty of the fates you've subjected us to. And let them be heard as a hymn of joy. We have wept, and we have wept, and we have wept, and we have no tears left to shed. What choice do we have, then, but to rejoice in your tyranny? We have surpassed resignation, we have transcended despair, and at long last, we have found our answer. But you people can't even begin to imagine the cruelties we had to suffer to reach it. "You only see what you want to see, only hear what you want to hear. "It is in weakness that people have room to grow. Yet you persisted in your ignorance. So, so many of you insisted on continuing your insane foolishness. Who allowed you to be so stupid, so cruel? "Why should we have to forgive you? "For make no mistake—we have been called on to forgive you time and again. "A thought crossed my mind once—if the end of days truly had been upon us, maybe it would have all been fine. All your atrocities could be forgiven, written off as isolated incidents of fear-induced derangement. "But God and Diablo failed to bring down the hammer—so I must do it in their stead. "I'll take this world, I'll make it my own, and I'll kill every last fool who walks upon it. I don't need a reason. After all, justice died long ago. At this point, what use does anyone have for something so decent and proper? And at the end of the day, it doesn't matter whether I do anything; it won't affect our ultimate fate. Salvation isn't coming, ladies and gentlemen. Not for you, not for anyone. And certainly not for me. "It's clear now that God has no mercy. "It's clear now there is no other way. "The sun has gone dark—now, let the killing commence. "We, the mixed-race folk, hereby declare our rebellion against you." "—Longinus." Elisabeth snapped her fingers. When she did, a spear shot through the flock faster than a bolt of lightning, like an act of divine retribution. Elisabeth's attack struck true, piercing through the communication device hidden among the birds. It tumbled to the ground with an earsplitting screech. The announcement was over. However, every single person gathered in the World Tree had

undoubtedly heard Lewis's words. Elisabeth clenched her fists tight. Then and there, the proclamation had been made. The opening act was over, and the war had begun in earnest. They'd escaped the end of days and been saved, but now the curtain had well and truly risen on a new stage. The avengers were revolutionizing the world. At long last, punishment had caught up with sin. 'Tis only natural those killed should bear grudges. The day of forgiveness would never come. And the victims had every right to curse, resent, and detest the world. However, Elisabeth thought as she dug her nails into her palms. Before she could finish the thought, though, she heard a familiar voice call out from behind her. "Ah, Madam Elisabeth, there you are! I imagine you heard that just now. They're moving faster than we expected!" "That was a rather bold declaration of war they just made. I had thought they would lie low for a little longer. In any case, though, the humans and beastfolk intend to hold a conference, and... Lady? Whassup? That face you're makin' ain't like ya." Izabella and Jeanne came running toward her. It would appear that when they heard the decree, they'd immediately come looking for her. However, Elisabeth remained silent. She gazed out over the now-quiet forest. Then after narrowing her eyes as though trying to see to the world's end, she finally spoke. "Aye, I suppose that's necessary... However, I hope you'll excuse me if I slip away for a bit. It shall take some time to get things set up, I imagine? I've every intention of returning before I'm needed... Or rather, should I—?" Elisabeth glanced over at Ain. There was something she needed to tell Lute. However, Ain returned Elisabeth's crimson gaze and shook her head. She stroked her still-thin belly. "It would seem you and I were thinking much the same thing. If you have somewhere you wish to be, then by all means, go. I'll speak to him. Besides, if he heard about the pregnancy from anyone but me, he might well faint." "Aye, true. Lute has many traits, and getting overly shocked by things is certainly one of them. I leave him to you, then." Elisabeth gave her a small nod and walked off. Izabella watched her, puzzled. That said, she didn't move to stop her. She bit her lip in thought. Her face, which was still beautiful despite the drastic change it had undergone, contorted in sorrow. Jeanne remained expressionless, but her voice took on a concerned tone. "My lady...is something the matter?" "Forgive me. I just remembered some business I need to attend to. There's somewhere I have to go before the meeting. You should stay with His Majesty." "No, I'm coming with you. I'm yours, in body and soul." "I appreciate the sentiment, but I ask that you let me go alone. Please don't follow me." After making her wishes exceedingly clear, Izabella strode off as well. She passed Elisabeth and left the area. Elisabeth glanced back over her shoulder. The golden Torture Princess was standing in abject shock. Then all of a sudden, she collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Jeanne accompanied her over-the-top reaction with a small whisper. "Have I already been rejected, by any chance? Maaaaan...are you for real?" "I can't say I know the particulars of your situation, but are you sure you aren't just jumping to conclusions?" Ain immediately began consoling her. As she listened to them, Elisabeth started walking again. She withdrew her jewel, then flipped it into the air. A teleportation circle traced itself atop the ground. Crimson flower petals and black darkness whirled through the air, and a cylindrical wall the color of blood rose up around her. When it shattered, the Torture Princess was gone. Once again, Elisabeth had vanished from the beastfolk lands. She materialized in a place with no night or day. It was a pure place, one crafted from snow and water, wind and mana. Above her head, a rainbow curtain fluttered in a milky-white sky with no sun or moon. Her surroundings were beautiful, but it was a hollow beauty. Dainty crystals fell from the sky and crunched underfoot as she walked. Eventually, she reached a sight she'd seen time and again. There were two pillars of ivy toppled over, like corpses of giants. The two of them were lying on top of each other and propping each other up. A shrine-like cave sat at their center. Elisabeth sat down in it, surrounded by ivy decorated with azure and crimson roses. Suddenly, she let her body go limp. A small thump echoed as her back impacted the crystal. She quietly closed her eyes, as she had once before. Two people were sleeping inside the crystal at her back. They were as silent as ever, and unchanging smiles adorned their faces. The crystal was cold and hard. The distance its clear walls separated was slim, yet it was farther than the World's End. Kaito Sena wasn't the Torture Princess. He wasn't a saint. He wasn't even the Mad King. He was just a boy. Yet now he was slumbering with his bride, bearing the burden of a world that by all rights he should have had nothing to do with. Elisabeth thought. The boy had known just how horrible people were. He knew that fact remained true, even across worlds. Yet even so, he saw the world as beautiful. Because that was where the people he cared about lived. "So I'll protect it," he'd boasted. He'd smiled to the very end. And now people were trying to rob that smile of its meaning. Everyone is the same. Indeed, even I. They were all but swine, hideous beyond compare. Humanity had made a mistake, countless people had stood by and watched, the mixed-race folk had turned to vengeance, the imperial princesses had died nobly, the demi-human man had betrayed the world for those he cared about, and the saints' representative had died with a heart full of belief in both God and creation. Now the survivors were jumping at shadows and starting a new battle. And the world would keep turning, just as properly as ever. Humanity, demi-humans, beastfolk, and mixed-race folk were all the same. When they were viewed not as individuals, but as groups, none of them were deserving of belief in the slightest. Yet even so— ...Even so? "Say, Kaito..." Still facing forward, Elisabeth let out a whisper. The Torture Princess refused to turn around. Yet even so, she let out a quiet murmur, like a single drop of blood shed straight from the heart. "...would it not be better for a world such as this simply to end?" She received no answer. Inside the crystal, the world's two saviors simply kept on smiling. Afterword It's gotten quite cold lately, hasn't it? Now, who was it that wrote "the next book is coming out this summer" in the end of Volume 6? Ah, right, that idiot Ayasato. I'm truly ashamed. Still, thank you for buying Torture Princess, Volume 7. Not only did I run into a number of unforeseen complications after I finished Volume 6, but I also ended up exhausting myself so badly that it affected my health. Thanks to my editor giving me both advice and time, though; I'm confident I was able to finish the book itself without having to compromise on its quality. I offer my deepest apologies to everyone who was eagerly awaiting the series' continuation, but I really hope you enjoy the book now that it's finally out. Now, I'm running out of space here, so I have to get to the acknowledgments fairly quickly. To Saki Ukai, for all your wonderful art; to my editor O, for all your kindnesses; and to Hina Yamato, for your lovingly crafted manga adaptation, thank you so much. I'd also like to extend deep thanks to everyone else involved in the process, as well as to my beloved family, particularly my sister. And most importantly, to all the readers who waited patiently for Volume 7 and are now finally reading it, you have my sincerest thanks. If it isn't too much to ask, I hope you see both the book and the series as a whole through to their coming conclusions. What lies beyond that single lamentation and that single meeting? Is it something—or is it nothing? Epilogue, as well as Their Prologue Down at the bottom of the well, Sara Yuuki had a dream. Her frail arms were covered in cigarette burns, her broken fingers were stiff from how they'd knit, the right half of her body was crushed from when she'd been thrown down there, and her eyeballs were clouded over. It was unlikely that her body would ever be found. Her fourth father and her mother, who was head over heels for him, would probably just claim she'd run off. Just like how Alice had gone off to Wonderland. They'd say she'd gone far, far away. As the pain continued weighing heavily on her, she gazed up hazily at the sky. The falling rain clogged up her throat. By that point, she couldn't even tell if bugs were crawling into her mouth or not anymore. For a moment, the thought I don't want to die flashed through her mind, but the young girl wasn't even sure if it had been caused by a legitimate attachment to life or merely by fear. Sara Yuuki's life was fading away. But instead of infinite blackness, she saw a dancing light. It was almost like her life was flashing before her eyes, like in stories. But this was something else entirely, something sinister. There were corpses of some strange creatures as far as the eye could see. Tons and tons and tons of some part-lizard, part-dog, part-human creatures had been cast aside. All of them were dead. Their chests had been torn open, and their limbs had been ripped off. Their eyes, ears, teeth, and tongues were all missing. Each of them lacked so much as a shred of basic dignity. Someone was weeping before the mountain of corpses. He tenderly stroked each one as he wailed. The man's face was shockingly ugly. Its right half was reptilian, and its left half was human. However, both sides were filled with a profound grief. It made his face look much more human than either of Sara's parents' had. The weeping continued for a long, long time. Suddenly, though, he stopped, as though he had no tears left to shed. He turned his golden eyes toward Sara. She gasped. It was clear from his expression that he was a victim. No, his eyes burned with malice and rage, and there was a warped smile plastered across his face. Sara could tell—that man was broken. And just like her, someone had broken him. Then an overpowering voice filled the air. "—God and Diablo failed to bring down the hammer. "—So I must do it in their stead." And then with a firm thump, Sara Yuuki's heart stopped as though the bell signaling the end had been rung. Sara Yuuki, the girl who should have been dead, opened her eyes once more. The light of a bonfire filled her gaze. She appeared to be in a dimly lit stone room. She blinked. Standing in front of her was the man from before. Now, though, he was wearing a mask that had been cut in half. His visible eye had none of the passion she'd seen in it earlier. Now it was empty and hollow. All of a sudden, the man in black parted his thin lips, looked straight at Sara, and spoke. "O Sinless Soul, stricken down in a manner most foul—from this day forth, you will live as our weapon." His tone left no room for refusal. However, Sara didn't understand what he meant. She was simply confused. Then the man in black shook

his head. He began murmuring like a man possessed. "No, no. That's not it. You finally came... I was finally able to call you, O wounded soul, O pure being from another world, O beacon of our hope, O answer to our prayers, O key to our revolution of the world." The man in black knelt before her. That was when Sara realized. The man was trembling so hard that he couldn't stop. He was crying. Tears were rolling down his emotionless face. He launched into a desperate plea without so much as explaining the situation. "You'll help us, won't you? You'll become our hope? Become our joy? I've been waiting for you—I've been waiting for you for so, so long. O reincarnation from another world. O limitless vessel." I'm truly happy I got to meet you. That was what the man in black was saying. And for Sara Yuuki, that was enough. *** She gently reached out her hands. Then Sara—no, now she was nobody, just a dead girl—embraced the man tight. He went stiff. The girl whispered affectionately so as to wipe away his sorrow. "You did call me, didn't you? You invited me to Wonderland... All right, then, very well. From now on, I'll live for your sake. I'll be your hope, your joy, and anything else you want me to be. But I have one request, if I may. "I'm afraid I don't know much about weapons, so if it's okay, I'd like to be your daughter instead." The girl smiled. "Of course," the man replied. That marked the moment of their meeting—the meeting between the solitary girl and the solitary monster. It's time for a story. I hope you'll be kind enough to remember it. No matter what may come, please remember this truth. It's a story of a girl who was brutally killed by a human, and a story of a monster who was cruelly killed by a human. Or perhaps it's a story of a child who was abandoned by her parents, and an avenger who decided to destroy the world. A story of nothing more— —than repentance, dreams, and hatred. A story of salvation. A Message from Someone (1) Hello. It's nice to meet you. You know, it brings me great joy to have my voice reach you like this. Are you a man? A woman? Either way, I'm very glad, and either way, it doesn't matter in the slightest. After all, you exist in this world. And that means you must be one of God's creations. That's the only thing that matters. As such, I find this miracle all the more delightful. Do you have any idea just how glad I am? I suspect eternity could pass and you still wouldn't be able to fathom the depths of my joy. Ah, that's right—you don't know anything about me. You don't know what my face looks like, or what my voice sounds like, or what sort of flesh and bone I'm made up of. You don't know how I've lived my life, or how I was loved, or how my deeds were exaggerated, or what they made me out to be. You know nothing. Nor do you have any reason to. And so I say, It's nice to meet you. And thank you for lending an ear to me, me, and me alone. I extend to you my deepest gratitude. But at the same time, I can't help but wonder—is my voice actually reaching you? Perhaps in truth, this message of mine is going unheard. Just like it did all those lifetimes ago. But if so, that's fine, too. At the end of the day, you listening or not doesn't really change anything. After all, this is much like a prayer, and prayer is supposed to be a one-way street. It's the same as when you all prayed. Was I listening? Was I not? Either way, it didn't really matter. Wouldn't you agree? Kaito's Daily Routine (Front Side) Once someone dies, that's it. No amount of weeping and pleading will change the fact that their existence is over. However, Kaito Sena was one of the rare exceptions to that rule. After many years of inhumane abuse at the hands of his father, he died a meaningless death. But instead of fading away, his existence persisted. Even now, he could vividly remember the moment in which he was murdered. His was a rare situation, to be sure. And in many ways, a decidedly unfortunate one. Kaito Sena mused on that fact as he found himself being killed. As the hands tightened around his neck, he realized that it was all just a dream. I gotta say, it's pretty unpleasant having to relive my death in my dreams and not even be able to wake up when I want to. It was something that had already happened. There was no way to stop it. His feeble body had no hope of fighting off the large man who was straddling him. Resisting would only make the despair last longer. And so yet again, he got strangled to death atop that damp tatami mat. His arteries and windpipe gave way. His spine creaked under the pressure. A dry snapping noise echoed out. Then it happened. "Taaaaaaaaaaaake that!" "Hurgh!" An absurdly carefree voice rang through the air, and as it did, an intense blow struck Kaito straight in the chest. The shock from the blow immediately snapped him awake, and his limbs went stiff as he contorted in pain. He blinked, then realized that he was lying on a dry sheet. The solid stone ceiling above him filled his view. It had no fluorescent lights, nor did it have any stains. It wasn't the room he'd lived in when he was alive. Kaito frowned. Where was he, and what was he doing there? Then at long last, he finally remembered the grave, hard-to-believe reality of his situation. Ah, that's right. I... ...reincarnated in another world. He gingerly glanced to his side. Standing beside his bed was the exact person he'd expected. Her black hair was long and lustrous, her skin was so fair that it seemed almost translucent, and her eyes were as red as jewels. She was wearing a bondage dress composed of leather straps that just barely covered her breasts, and her arms were crossed in front of her. And as for her shapely, high-heeled leg, it was buried in Kaito's stomach. Now Kaito had a clearer picture of what was going on. That impact from a moment ago had been her giving him an ax kick. He almost voiced a complaint but stopped the moment before the words left his mouth. His self-preservation instincts were screaming at him to shut up. He shifted his gaze over to the window. Golden light was leaking in through its shutters. Gears turned in Kaito's head as he sorted through the new information. Dawn had long since broken. At the moment, he was working as a butler, despite his protests. And his master was none other than the young woman who had just struck him in the chest. The proud wolf and the lowly sow. The peerless sinner. The Torture Princess—Elisabeth Le Fanu. She was already up and dressed, and he was still lying on his bed. It was becoming clear to Kaito why she had kicked him. "I see you're up early, Miss Elisabeth... No, yeah, I'm just up late." "Ah, so you're aware you've overslept, then, Kaito? 'Tis some nerve you have, indulging yourself in indolence beyond even that of your master." Elisabeth's smile was as malevolent as it was beautiful. Kaito's face blanched. Now he'd gone and done it. And with that, Kaito Sena greeted the morning— —part of a long series of cruel, bizarre days. Elisabeth Le Fanu, the Torture Princess, was a peerless sinner. She had murdered countless people, starting with the population of her own fiefdom. But that tyranny of hers didn't last long. The Church captured her. By all rights, she should have been put to death on the spot. However, her execution was delayed. Her order was to do some good for the world before she was to be killed at the stake. And so began the Torture Princess's crusade against the remaining thirteen demons and their contractors, leaving aside the already-captured Kaiser. Demons were higher entities that destroyed the world and fed on the pain of God's creations. And Kaito himself had already gotten a glimpse of how horrifying they could be. He'd seen the work of the Knight, weakest of the fourteen, firsthand. Everything was still fresh in his mind, how the Knight had attacked the innocent villagers with atrocities so vile that they had made Kaito want to avert his eyes. But perhaps the most gruesome atrocity of all had been the demon getting Drawn and Quartered—the punishment that Elisabeth inflicted on the Knight for his sins. No matter which side Kaito looked at, hell was all that awaited his gaze. Outside the battles, though, Kaito's life was actually fairly peaceful. Well, under some definitions of the word, at least. Can you really call a life with this many flying plates in it "peaceful," though? Not sure about that one. "This! Is! Viiiiiiiiiiiiiile!" Kaito crossed his arms and pondered that thought. As he did, some stewed tongue with mashed potatoes came hurtling toward him. He didn't even have to look to know that Elisabeth was the culprit. The crime fit her MO. The plate then turned around like a boomerang and began miraculously making its way back. Kaito caught it as it sprayed sauce through the air. He shook his head in exasperation. "You know, I tried to make the menu as idiotproof as possible. Don't tell me I screwed even that up." "I have a taste, as I'm sure you're aware. A preference for organ meat. But I'll have you know that even I have my limits! I bite in, expecting the sumptuous harmony of meat and vegetables to fill my mouth, and what I receive instead is the hellish flavor of blood! The vegetables are so mushy that they've lost any semblance of texture, yet somehow, the tongue manages to be hard as a rock! Is your aim to shatter my teeth?! This meal is an affront to all five senses!" "I'm sure your teeth are gonna be fine. And also, I feel like I say this a lot, but you've got a crazy knack for food criticism, you know that?" "This is no time to be idly admiring my talents! Haven't you even a shred of remorse, you dullard?!" Elisabeth hurled her fork at him, and it buried itself smack-dab in the middle of his forehead. Its handle bobbed up and down. Kaito calmly withdrew the utensil from his brow. Blood comically gushed out like a fountain. However, that was of little concern. Thanks to the fact that he had the body of a golem, Kaito was more or less immortal, and his experiences back in life had left him well accustomed to pain. "Good grief," he muttered as he pressed the cuff of his unbecoming butler outfit against the wound. Elisabeth trembled with tears in her eyes. Kaito took the plate that he'd put off to the side ahead of time and handed it to her. "Y'know, I figured that organs might be a little heavy for breakfast anyway, so I made this as well." "Thanks to your sloth, it's already well past time for lunch, but I do appreciate the rare display of competen... Well now. What exactly is this supposed to be?" "I made those shish kebabs last time, so I figured that frying an egg would be a piece of cake, but, uh...I kinda figured out a way to screw it up." "'Tis pitch-black, this egg! Nothing but crisp! Apologize to the yolk, the white, and the chick they could have been!" As she shouted her oddly specific instructions, Elisabeth

knocked her second meal off the table just the same as she had her first. Kaito could practically see the cat ears drooping atop her head. The Torture Princess was a peerless sinner, it was true, but she had a certain childish side to her as well. Eating delicious things filled her with an innocent joy, and tasting unpleasant food made her so dejected that it was almost pitiful. Kaito nodded sympathetically. It was a sorry sight. Elisabeth snapped her head up. "Answer me this now—why do you have a look on your face that suggests you're not the one to blame?!" "Miss Elisabeth, please put down the knife. If I lose too much blood, I really will die." Elisabeth growled menacingly. Kaito decided to make a break for it. His blood was full of the Torture Princess's mana, and losing too much of it would cause his soul to leak right out of his body. It was his one true weakness. Even if not for that, though, he still wanted to avoid angering Elisabeth any further. Otherwise, I'll end up on the Iron Chair! "Best to let sleeping dogs lie." Choosing to heed that idiom, which he'd heard back when he was alive, he headed to the kitchen to clean up the mess he'd made while cooking. Elisabeth had summoned Kaito because she needed someone to take care of her chores. In fact, that was the only reason she summoned him. When you got down to it, the story was actually kind of absurd. The thing was, Elisabeth herself hadn't had any intention of summoning someone from another world. She needed a servant so she could fully devote herself to her battles against the demons, but she also had conditions as to who they could be. If she accidentally ended up hiring someone evil, the Church might suspect her of trying to rise up against them. So to avoid drawing any unwarranted suspicion, Elisabeth made sure to summon someone who was "sinless." Because nothing Kaito did in life had warranted his brutal death, he fit that criterion. The fact that he got drawn from another world was purely a coincidence. Unfortunately, though, Kaito's domestic skills were downright nonexistent. His disastrous cooking hardly needed to be mentioned, and he wasn't particularly great at any other chores, either. He was in no way the right man for the job. As far as everything other than food was concerned, though, Elisabeth was actually pretty lenient. She never ordered him to do anything more complicated than "clean this room" or "wash what laundry needs washing." Kaito took full advantage of this fact, and most of the work he did was fairly sloppy. However, the one thing he did make sure to do every day without fail was clean Elisabeth's bedroom. He was lazy, but he wasn't an idiot. Even though it belonged to the castle's master, Elisabeth's bedroom was fairly plain. Kaito knew that touching any of her belongings was a dangerous proposition, but the cleaning itself was relatively painless. Each day, Kaito dusted the few pieces of furniture she kept, then changed her bedsheets so he could hand-wash and dry them. Then he would work around Elisabeth's afternoon catnap and look for a chance to carry her down mattress and pillow to a room with a balcony so he could air them out. He had no idea how people were actually supposed to clean those kinds of things, so he was basically just playing it by ear. Once he was done with all that, he would generally then get to work cleaning the hallways and other rooms. Sometimes, he would end up getting chased around by moving suits of armor and have to hide in the reservoir, where he would gaze in awe at the undines swimming about. That would usually last him until the evening. Then he would get to work preparing dinner, drawing Elisabeth's bath, and picking out wine for her to indulge herself in. Such was his routine, day in, day out. Today, though, he had a different plan. He headed to the rear garden. The reason for that was simple—the weeds were making a play to expand their territory. If he didn't act fast, they would overtake the garden in no time. However, he quickly began doubting that decision. "Whew... Man, first the oversleeping, and now it feels like I've been nodding off all day..." Kaito let out a big yawn as he wrenched the weeds from the ground. That area was often overcast, but the sun had decided to show its face that day. It was the kind of warm weather that made one's eyelids naturally droop. Plus, because of his nightmare, Kaito hadn't exactly gotten a good night's rest. It would probably be smarter to go back inside, where it was cooler. However, he had just started to make some decent progress on the weeds. "Still, how carefree does a guy have to be to nod off in...yaaaawn...the Torture Princess's castle?" Kaito began muttering to himself to try and stay awake. The sheer thought of doing something like that would be enough to make anyone from this world gape in horror. Ever since he died, though, Kaito had been having a difficult time registering emotions like fear or alarm. "Now that I think about it, I had to do a lot of messed-up stuff back in my old life. Moving around bodies that I wasn't sure were alive or not, selling drugs, spreading quicklime over rooms that were covered in blood... If it weren't for the demon battles, this life would probably actually be nicer than my last one. Sigh. Man, screw those demons." Kaito shook his head in annoyance and rose to his feet. With a large bundle of weeds tucked under his arm, he turned around. There, atop the ground that he'd just finished clearing, was a dead body. The moment he saw it, Kaito realized something. Huh, I guess I really did nod off. This was a dream. It had to be. The corpse in front of him couldn't possibly exist. Everything about it was just too damn strange. The body was definitely dead. Yet even so, it was moving. All its skin was brutally stretched out, and one of its sides was covered in thin strings. Now, the phrase all its skin wasn't totally accurate. The corpse was split in half down the middle, and the cross section had been torn to shreds. It was like it had been attached to something before being forcibly ripped off, like a caterpillar stuck to a roll of sticky tape. Its fluttering scraps of leftover skin swam hazily through the air, accompanied by a series of black strings. The corpse tilted its head and peered at Kaito from a strange angle. It looked like it was in constant agony, and tears dribbled from its bare, lidless eyes. Kaito couldn't help but let out a low gasp. But it wasn't out of fear. It was out of sympathy, and out of affection. Man...it hurts, doesn't it? An eternity of pain with no hope for salvation was a cruel thing to have to suffer through. It was a scary, scary fate. "C'mon now, don't cry." It was supposed to be a dream, but when Kaito let out his murmur, his voice had a strangely clear ring to it. He looked down at the ground. It was covered in red. Blood was gushing forth from the corpse without stopping. The viscous way it was spreading seemed oddly graphic for a dream, but Kaito couldn't quite put his finger on what felt so strange about it. He tilted his head to the side and took a step forward. "Don't worry, I'm coming." Something was off. However, he couldn't tell what. He approached the corpse with long strides. His gait was oddly brisk and nimble, to the point where even he could tell something was off. The corpse extended its one remaining arm toward him. He reached out for it in kind. The fingers of the dead and the fingers of the living were about to meet. The moment before they could, though, the ground exploded right in front of Kaito. "Whoa!" The force from the impact knocked him back, and the weeds he'd been carrying got scattered all around him. Right before his vision shot upward, he saw the body get impaled by stakes. However, no new blood came flowing from it. Instead, the grisly corpse merely vanished without a sound. Now that he was sprawled out on the ground, Kaito looked up at the clear blue sky. An idle thought drifted through his mind. See? I knew it was a dream. No demon attack would ever take such a pathetic form, and the only other way that such a strange event could take place was in a dream. Why was it, though, that he'd felt as if it were his duty to rush over to the corpse, touch it as quickly as possible, take its hand, share its pain, and assimilate it? Surely, there was no good reason for him to have been so bizarrely impatient. Wait, hold on a sec. What the hell was that about "assimilating" it? A chill ran down Kaito's spine. However, that emotion quickly grew dull and got replaced with a crushing wave of fatigue. A thought passed through his thoroughly confused mind. Well, no biggie, I guess... It was just a dream, after all... Now then, gotta figure out how I'm supposed to wake up. Suddenly, Kaito remembered an old wives' tale he'd once heard. Apparently, if you went to sleep in a dream, it would make you wake up in the real world. Kaito took a deep breath, then relaxed his arms and legs and slowly closed his eyes. The blue sky was overtaken by darkness. Then his vision cut out entirely. "Taaaaaaaaaaaake that!" "Hurgh!" An absurdly carefree voice rang through the air, and as it did, an intense blow struck Kaito straight in the chest. The shock from the blow immediately snapped him awake, and his limbs went stiff as he contorted in pain. He blinked, then realized that he was lying on the hard ground. There was a pile of uprooted weeds by him that was pricking him in the arms and legs. The clear blue sky above him filled his view. Kaito frowned. Where was he, and what was he doing there? He gingerly glanced at the spot where the strike had landed. Atop him was the exact person he'd expected. She was looking down at him with a catlike beauty, and her arm was buried in Kaito's gut. It was a brilliantly executed elbow strike. "You know, I figured you'd go for another leg attack, but it's the arm this time, huh?" "Hmhm, know now that I am a master of every combat technique known to— That's not important right now, Kaito! First you oversleep, then you see fit to take a siesta on top of that?!" "Huh, yeah, I guess I did." Elisabeth hopped to her feet, then crossed her arms as she shouted her accusation. Kaito hurriedly rose as well, and Elisabeth angrily arched her eyebrows as she went on. "And what's more, you didn't even take it in a proper bed. The garden, Kaito?! Just how sleepy were you?!" "Uhhh, yeah, you got me there." "In a more righteous world, you'd be in Thumbscrews this very moment! Go on then, weep in joy at my mercy and magnanimity!" "And which world's the one where that logic makes sense, exactly? ...Wait, huh? I was asleep, right?" Everything Elisabeth just pointed out should have been true. He himself remembered having been asleep. However, he tilted his head to the side. Something didn't add up. All of a sudden, he remembered how bizarre the entity he saw in his dream was. What was that thing? He glanced around the garden, but the bisected corpse was gone, and

there were no traces of the fresh bloodstain. Kaito breathed a sigh of relief. I guess it was a dream after all. Suddenly, though, he frowned. There was something strange about a particular patch of the ground. The soil was disturbed, like something had exploded up from underneath it. It was the kind of thing you'd expect to see on a battlefield. It's almost as though...a stake burst up from under the ground... Nah, there's no way. "By the way, Kaito." "Yes, Miss Elisabeth? However might I be of service?" "Oh, drop the forced politeness. Anyhow, if you have the time to be brazenly napping like that, then you must surely be bored to death. 'Tis fortunate for you, then, that I have the perfect job for those idle hands of yours. Come along now. And be chipper about it." "Okay, so I'll admit that I was napping, but that doesn't mean I'm— OW!" "Oh, shut up! Just come!" Elisabeth grabbed Kaito by the earlobe. It would seem that resistance was futile. He began reluctantly following her, his eyes as forlorn as those of a calf being taken to market. The two of them left the garden. For some reason, though, Kaito decided to take a quick glance back. ...Huh? When he did, he saw it. At some point, a crimson pool had spread across the ground like a putrid swamp. Sticky-looking foam bubbled on its surface. However, it vanished in the blink of an eye like a fleeting mirage. All that remained was the dry ground. Kaito turned his gaze back in the direction they were heading and continued after Elisabeth a good deal less reluctantly than before. I'm seeing things. Yep, definitely just seeing things. After all, the alternative was that he wasn't— —and if that were the case, then that crimson swamp was an ominous omen indeed. Kaito followed Elisabeth down a set of stairs, and the two of them arrived underground. He stepped down onto the stone floor. The long passageway that stretched before him reeked of mold and was turned at a corner partway down. The corridors beneath the castle were laid out in a complex maze, and they were filled with mysterious groaning, which evoked the sense of a labyrinth containing a monster. In fact, it wouldn't be surprising if there really was a monster down here. Kaito glared straight ahead. There was something important that Elisabeth kept in the room at the end of that hallway—the teleportation circle etched in her blood. However, it would seem that that wasn't what they were here for. She selected one door from amid the innumerable rows of them. Then she kicked it open with all her might. "Saaaaays me!" "Why's it always gotta be the violent option with you?" Exasperated as he was, Kaito peered into the room from beside her. The inside was terribly cramped. It looked like a dungeon that had been designed to psychologically torture its prisoner. However, that wasn't the room's true purpose. Instead, there was a strange object installed in its center. What, it's a glowing glass ball? No... It couldn't be anything that simple. However, it was true that the clear orb was filled with a crimson light. This light was composed in the shape of a flower. A moment after it bloomed, its petals fell off. Then they transformed into butterfly wings in midair. The butterflies flapped about, then gathered together back into a flower. And thus, the light began its transformation anew. The cycle repeated, never ceasing. Elisabeth pointed at the strange orb. "'Tis a magic device I tested out many ages ago, then promptly forgot all about. But when I saw you plagued with those nightmares of yours and constantly fatigued, I suddenly remembered it existed." "I get this weird feeling that I'd be better off if you hadn't." "Oh, no need to sound so suspicious. 'Tis but a device designed to prevent nightmares." "A device designed to prevent nightmares?" Kaito parroted Elisabeth's words back at her. That sounded harmless enough, not to mention extremely handy. Given the option, he'd rather not relive the moment of his death any more than he had to. He couldn't help but be interested. When she saw Kaito's reaction, Elisabeth curled the corners of her lips into a malevolent smile. "Of course, any small error when using it would leave you unable to return, permanently crippled, or something to that effect." "Okay, that's gonna be a reeeeal hard pass from me!" In times like these, discretion was the better part of valor. Kaito immediately made to dash out into the corridor. The moment before he could flee, however, Elisabeth snatched him up by the collar. Behind him, she began making an unusually enthusiastic declaration. "No, no, it'll work! I haven't the faintest shred of proof to support that notion, but I have this strange feeling that you'll do just great!" "That's a little too important to leave up to a notion, don't you think?! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop! If you're gonna shove someone into something, at least make sure it works first!" "You're a man! Show some spine! Worry not—if anything happens, I'll be sure to retrieve your ashes!" "Oh, so we're just working under the assumption that I'm gonna die... Hey, wait, ahhhhhhhhhh!" Kaito's resistance was in vain, and he found his back getting pressed against the glass ball. Then— —with a brief, unsatisfying shoop— "Huh?" —Kaito got sucked into the ball. The world was filled— —to the very brim— —with crimson flowers in full bloom. It was a bewitchingly beautiful sight, but an endlessly ominous one as well. As he lay sprawled atop the flower field, a shallow thought passed through Kaito's amazed mind. He retracted his statement from back in the garden. "...Okay, I take it all back. Demons or not, this life is way more messed up than my last one." No good could ever come of a world with magic in it. However, just lying there lamenting that fact wasn't going to get him anywhere. Crimson flower petals scattered in his wake as he stood. "All right, first order of business: Let's figure out what the hell happened to me." Kaito glanced around, trying his best to stay levelheaded. Unlike the ground, which was as red as a sea of blood, the sky was muddled and gray. Butterflies made of crimson light glittered through the air with a dim glow behind them as they continued their lively dance all the way to the horizon line. As beautiful as it all was, it was decidedly bizarre. Kaito wasn't sure where to go. He looked around again, hoping to find some sign. A moment later, he did a double take. Something weird was floating there. "Whoa, what's that thing?!" "Bakuuuuuuuuu." "Whoa, it made a noise." There was something round in the middle of the field. It was some sort of mysterious black-and-white creature. Kaito began thinking to try and figure out what it was. The only black-and-white animal that immediately came to mind was a panda. This thing looks different, though. Wait, I feel like I might have seen one in a picture book back in school—some sort of black-and-white animal that had something to do with dreams... It was so long ago, though, and I only went to school for a short bit, so my memory's a little fuzzy. "Bakuuuuuuuuu!" "Whoa, it made a noise again." As Kaito leaped back, something dawned on him. The strange creature was making an odd noise, but its actual cry probably sounded different than that. His golem body's translation function was probably just coming up with something that it figured was "close enough." After letting out a dissatisfied groan, the animal went silent. Kaito steeled his nerves and walked toward it. The creature was floating in the air with its eyes closed, as relaxed as a baby in the womb. Seeing how adorable it looked helped alleviate Kaito's fears a bit. He timidly reached out to touch it. Suddenly, with a big chomp, the creature snatched up Kaito's hand in its mouth. Kaito was a few seconds slow on the uptake, but he eventually let out a shout. "Hey, don't eat me!" "Baku. Munch, much, munch." Fortunately, it didn't hurt. Apparently, it wasn't actually eating his flesh. However, his hand grew wet with drool all the same. The munching sound went on as the creature continued gently gnawing on him. A sensation came over Kaito that felt like he was having something sucked out of his body. He tilted his head to the side. How odd. Then out of the blue, the creature's body began swelling up. "Whoa! Are you okay there, buddy?!" *** The black-and-white creature didn't answer, instead choosing to persist in its unnerving silence. All the while, it continued inflating. It was almost like some sort of balloon he was blowing into. Its fuzzy body grew rounder and rounder, and then— —with a pop— —it burst. "...Huh?" Kaito let out a dumbfounded yelp. However, the creature's body hadn't actually exploded. Instead, its skin merely split and peeled off from its top down. Afterward, it was left as a sphere of muscle fibers decorated with lard and veins. The creature had been reduced to a horrible blob. Then it began pulsating in midair, like it was the heart of very world itself. And its horrible transformation didn't stop there. Next, it began melting, losing its form like a piece of fruit rotting. Chunks of meat began cascading off it. They fell down like a dark rain, then seeped into the ground in the spaces between the flowers. And eventually, the world— —stopped moving in turn. "What...the hell?" The eternal cycle had come to an abrupt conclusion. The butterflies, midway through flying through the air and falling down as flower petals, froze in place. Kaito looked around in a panic. He was pretty sure he hadn't done anything wrong, but his heart was pounding up a storm all the same. Something bad was going to happen; he could feel it. He braced himself. However, no such disaster came. Kaito breathed a small sigh of relief, and the tension flooded out of his body. But he had let his guard down too quickly. The world began moving. It was like it had just finished "perceiving" him. The crimson petals all cascaded to the ground in unison and crumbled away into nothing. All that remained were the flowers' stems and stamens, and those then hardened and changed color and material. Now they were a bed of silver needles. The butterflies' wings followed suit, thinning out and sharpening into knives. The entire space was filled with objects designed to hurt people. Kaito stood stock-still in the newly silver world. His voice grew hoarse. "...You've gotta be shitting me." If he took so much as a single step forward, the needles would impale his feet, and the knives would slice his skin to ribbons. At a loss for what to do, Kaito gave the cruel world a quick glance over. However, he didn't see any way to reverse the transformation. The strange creature had melted, and it didn't look like it was coming back. Kaito's one lead had quite literally vanished. That said, just standing there wasn't going to get him anywhere. Kaito mulled over his options. There's gotta be some way for me to get out of here. If I make my way to the edge of this world—the glass ball, that is—maybe I'll be able to call Elisabeth for help. The problem was, if he moved even a little, he would end up getting hurt by that same world. It was a situation that would induce despair in just about anyone. Kaito took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. Welp...not like I have much of a choice. That about summed it up. Kaito placed a foot atop the needles and carefully took a step forward. When he did, the

needles' silver prongs pierced his foot clean through. Seeing them burst through the top of his shoe, Kaito grimaced. He lifted his foot up, and a horrible slurping noise sounded out as it came free of the needles, which were now covered in disgusting globs of fat. Blood gushed from his wounds. As agony shot through him, he took another step, once more bringing his foot down on the needles of his own volition. The moment he did, a melodic voice echoed through the air. "You fear pain, aye, but you're far too accustomed to it. I daresay that that contradiction there is where your warped personality stems from." "Huh? Wait, that voice... Elisabeth?" Kaito frantically glanced around. For a moment, he even forgot that his foot was being impaled. That was a bad move. He tried to twist his body to the side to get a better look, but because his foot was still stuck, he ended up losing his balance. He toppled over, and the carpet of needles quickly drew closer. Oooh, I don't like this. The prospect of being in agony— —and of dying in agony— —and of being in constant agony yet unable to die— was a most unpleasant prospect indeed. That was the fact that Kaito mused on as he fell helplessly toward the needles. The moment before he got run through, though, he stopped. Someone behind him— —had just grabbed his hand tight. "...Huh?" "Heeeave..." Then they began dragging him upward. It was almost anticlimactic how casually he got pulled up through the air. It felt just like the time his soul got unceremoniously yanked— —and plucked out of his original world. "...Ah!" By the time Kaito realized what was going on, he was already sitting atop something black-and-white. When he looked down, he discovered that it was the round creature from before. It was the exact same shape—just a lot bigger. The large creature floated gently through the air as it carried Kaito on its back. He didn't understand what was going on in the slightest. What he did know, though, was that he didn't have any time to waste gawking at the strange beast. He quickly glanced to his side. There, he found the exact person he'd expected. He pointed his finger straight at her. *** "Oh, hello there, Kaito." Elisabeth gave him a breezy greeting and a one-handed wave. She was sitting with her arms perched atop her knees and the scarlet inside of her dress tucked underneath her. Kaito raised his voice in indignation. "Don't you 'oh, hello' me, dammit! Do you have any idea what I just went through because of you?!" "Well, you say that, but even I hadn't the faintest idea that your nightmares' cause would take such a form. And besides, who exactly was it who refused to wait for me, striding across those needles on his own like an utter fool?" "Well, it does sound bad when you put it that way... Wait, hold on a minute. This is the cause of my nightmares?" "That it is. 'Tis a contradictory sight indeed." Elisabeth gazed down at the transformed field of flowers as she spoke. Still seated, Kaito scooted over until he was right next to her. All of a sudden, he realized that his foot didn't hurt anymore. His wounds were gone without a trace. However, the world of needles and knives showed no sign of reverting to its original state. Overwhelmed by the sheer heartlessness of the sight, Kaito asked a question. "Wait...what does this have to do with my nightmares at all?" "To pinpoint the precise source of another's nightmares, one must first dive deep into their memories. However, this is but an experimental device, and such a complex feat is beyond it. Instead, it displays a symbolic manifestation of the fear that drives its subject's nightmares. What you see before you is the result. You fear pain, yet you're accustomed to it and, at times, even accept it willingly. As I said, contradictory. 'Tis perverse, and that means a lot coming from me." "...Huh." "A sea of knives and needles, eh...? 'Tis a veritable cage of pain, impossible to ever escape from." An eternity of agony was an unpleasant prospect indeed. That was definitely how Kaito felt. That was what he was afraid of. That was what he was used to. The two of them went quiet, and for a time, it was silent atop the strange creature's back. The pair just sat there. All of a sudden, though, Elisabeth arched her back and stretched her arms all the way up. Her breasts bounced precariously beneath their leather belts. After bringing her arms back down, Elisabeth exhaled. "To be frank, though, it doesn't matter to me in the slightest." "Don't you think that's a little too honest?" "Ha. You think your trauma is special? What you fear, what you find unpleasant, what weight you bear...I've no intention of asking the details, nor would they hold my interest if I did." "That's...fair, I guess." "That said, I do aim to obliterate this place now." "...Say what?" Elisabeth's proclamation came completely out of left field. Kaito blinked. He hadn't quite registered what she had said just yet. As he gave his dumbfounded reply, he looked around. When she said "this place," she must have meant the space they were currently in. When that fact finally clicked, he worriedly shot her a question. "Now, um, Miss Elisabeth, are you really sure that's a good idea?" "It matters not! Besides, such was the purpose this device was built for in the first place!" "Ah, so what I'm hearing is that you have no proof at all that we're gonna be okay." As Kaito quickly came to that realization, Elisabeth rose to her feet. Her dress flared out behind her like a cloak as she lorded over the world of silver. Several butterflies landed on her luscious black hair. Adorned perilously with their bladed wings, she smiled in satisfaction. "When you put someone in the device, it reproduces the symbolic cause of their nightmares. However, that alone is but the first step. The way it ends the nightmares is by having a third party destroy the reproduction, thereby freeing the subject's mind. A violent configuration, to be sure." "I feel like that doesn't make any sense at all. Is this really gonna make the nightmares stop?" "Oh, there's certainly no guarantee of that! Most of the developers of large-scale magic devices such as this end up going mad!" "I'm starting to sense a trend with these unfounded statements you keep making." "That said, ridiculous as the ideas behind it may be, 'twas well worth testing it out. We've not had any battles as of late, and I could feel my body growing duller by the day... Plus, I just went through a rather unpleasant experience." Elisabeth finished with a low murmur. She cracked her knuckles. Kaito tilted his head to the side in confusion. Something must have happened that he didn't know about. However, there was no time to ask questions. Elisabeth was making her move. Beneath them, the mysterious creature let out an apprehensive "Bakuuuu." It sensed danger. However, Elisabeth paid its complaint no heed. To the contrary, in fact, she treated its cry as a signal to let the destruction commence. She reached out into empty space, and a vortex of darkness and crimson flower petals formed around her pale hand. Then she drew a long sword from within. "Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal!" The runes inscribed in its blade flashed crimson. Anyone who saw them would have their meaning driven straight into their brain. You are free to act as you will. But pray that God shall be your salvation. For the beginning, the middle, and the end all lie in the palm of His hand. "Witches' Dance!" Elisabeth swung the sword straight down. To Kaito, it looked like flames were billowing off it. However, that was just an optical illusion. In truth, the sword had merely cut through the air. Down below them, though, changes were occurring in the silver landscape. The air was shimmering with heat haze, and the ground had been transformed into a vast sheet of burning metal. If anyone had been standing on it, the heat would have forced them to hop around like a madman. The metal plane's temperature rose mercilessly, growing higher and higher by the moment. Its silver flowers drooped and sagged as they melted. The intense heat was permeating every inch of this bounded world. And Kaito and Elisabeth were no exception. The massive black-and-white creature rose higher into the air at the last minute, but not even it could escape the effects of the change. It flailed its stubby arms and legs about to protest the heat. Kaito had to cling tight to its back to avoid being thrown off. "H-hey, Elisabeth! At this rate, you're gonna end up burning us to death, too!" "Hmm. That is a problem, isn't it? To be quite frank, I never actually considered that possibility." "Why wasn't that the first thing you considered?!" Kaito shouted in visible panic. Elisabeth, on the other hand, was inexplicably as calm as a cucumber. She swung her sword down once more. There's no way..., thought Kaito. And yet there was. Without a moment's hesitation, Elisabeth made her bold declaration. "Now, 'tis time to seal the deal." She swung her sword down, and darkness and crimson flower petals surged forth. A series of chains went flying as the ashen sky absorbed the shock wave. Elisabeth continued attacking the world without stopping. Kaito braced himself. He had no idea what was going to happen to them. The sky creaked before his very eyes. "Wha—?" Then a noise as shrill as glass shattering filled the air. The world built of pain was broken. Shards of the sky cascaded down like shooting stars. The image of the countless glittering fragments burned itself into Kaito's retinas. As the thousands of scraps of light rained down from overhead, all of a sudden— Shoop. "...Huh?" —a disappointingly brief noise echoed out— —and Kaito and Elisabeth got launched outside. "Taaaaaaaaaaaake that!" "Hurgh!" A shock ran through Kaito's body for the third time that day. When he took the heel or elbow or whatever it was to the chest, his eyes snapped open. His body went stiff as he contorted in agony, but he quickly rallied and got up. A dim, glowing ball sat in front of him. Its surface was covered in cracks, and it was emitting black-and-white smoke. He could faintly make out an annoyed "Bakuuuu" cry coming from somewhere, so it would seem that the events he'd just gone through hadn't been only a dream. Elisabeth was standing beside the ball. She gave it a huffy frown as she looked down at its sorry state. "What a flimsy piece of junk that turned out to be. For how dangerous a device it was, I'd have expected it to survive at least a single use." "I bet it would have if you didn't use it like a lunatic." Kaito shot her an exasperated rebuttal, but Elisabeth didn't respond to it. "Hmm," she murmured as she inspected the cracks. After giving the device a thorough once-over, she nodded. "Well, no matter. I'll just stick it back together later; I'm sure it'll be fine." "I'm pretty sure it won't." "Oh, have some faith. 'Tis nary a flaw in this world that a little welding can't fix." "Oh yeah, this isn't gonna end well." But right when Kaito was about to warn Elisabeth that her efforts were likely to accomplish little more than exacerbating the ball's already-critical damage, Elisabeth suddenly turned on her heel and shot him a question as casual as could be. "And on another note, I take it your odd drowsiness is gone?" "Huh? Oh, actually, now that you mention it, yeah... I guess today's just been one weird experience

after another." "If so, then I daresay you have me to thank. If you wish to drop to your knees and express your reverent gratitude, I certainly shan't stop you." "Why? Just why?" They were bold words, coming from the person who'd shoved him into a magical device against his will. Kaito squinted at her. However, it was true that she was the one who'd destroyed that world. Wait, was she looking out for me...in her own weird kind of way, mind you? Suddenly, Kaito was reminded of a few other things that had piqued his interest. There were those traces of an explosion back in the garden. There was the way she'd said that she "just went through a rather unpleasant experience." And there was the way she'd acted as though something had just happened. Could it be? Had she been working on his behalf, even before she stuck him in the ball? It seemed like it might be possible, so Kaito decided to ask her. Before he could get the words out, though, Elisabeth turned once more. "Now then, Kaito, 'tis almost dinnertime. Should my meal be late, I assume you've no objections to finding yourself atop the Ducking Stool." "Actually, I think I have an objection or two." Kaito took it all back. Today, as always, Elisabeth Le Fanu's cruelty was in perfect form. Even in the evenings, Kaito still had plenty of work to do. First, he had to draw a hot bath for Elisabeth. Then he had to go around and check the magic lamps to see if any of them had gone out. And although it was an impossible task due to the castle's sheer size, he also had to make sure all the windows were closed and the doors were locked. If Elisabeth wanted wine with her dinner, he had to go get that, too. All in all, his evening workload was nothing to sneeze at. Once he was finally finished, Kaito staggered back to the servant quarters. He made his way to his room and sat down on his bed. As he looked up at the ceiling, he let out a small murmur. "God, I'm pooped." Not only had his day been filled with all sorts of bizarre mayhem, but he'd also had to do a full day's workload on top of that. Plus, he didn't even know if that strange device had actually worked or not. After dinner, Elisabeth had brazenly made yet another proclamation. "From today on, I suspect you'll have nightmares just the same as anyone! But I've a feeling that there may or may not be a chance that their frequency could well decrease!" Kaito didn't even know where to start with that one. That was a whole lot of words for not a lot of certainty. Her proof, as always, was nowhere to be found. Strangely, though, he didn't find that fact all that upsetting. A device that "reproduces the symbolic cause of nightmares" and ends them "by having a third party destroy the reproduction, thereby freeing the subject's mind," huh? The entire sequence of events had been totally absurd, but he had to admit that it had been kind of refreshing to watch the world of pain get destroyed. It made him feel like the thorn winding its way through his chest had lightened up a little. As they fell, those thousands of scraps of light— —had looked like beautiful, radiant stars. ...Huh? Wait, was that thing I saw out in the garden a symbol of the pain that caused my nightmares, too? Confused, Kaito tilted his head to the side. He still wasn't sure what that phantom had really been. Maybe it was just a new spin on his nightmare, but he found that hard to believe. He thought back over what it had looked like. It had been in eternal pain, an agony that would never end. It had been a corpse, yet even in death, it had still moved. "...I can't come be by your side." Him assimilating an entity that was going to suffer in pain for eternity wasn't an option. From now on, he served Elisabeth. As foolish of a servant as he may have been, he was all she had. He didn't have time to spend the rest of his days grieving for an event that had long since passed. Plus, he had no desire whatsoever to keep crying even after he died. If I had to die...I'd rather do it happily, with no regrets. It'd be nice if it were a situation where he could say, This was for the best— —where he could do it for someone else's sake and go out with a smile on his face. As that random thought passed through his mind, he collapsed backward onto the bed with his arms and legs sprawled out. He closed his eyes. Based on what Elisabeth had said, the magical device's effects were uncertain. Would he have another nightmare tonight? For a moment, Kaito was seized by worry. However, his exhaustion quickly won out, and he sank into a deep slumber. That night, Kaito Sena had a dream. A strange animal soared overhead, crying, "Bakuuuu," as it flew. It had a round back, and Elisabeth was riding atop it. As she and the creature bobbed gently through the air, she complained about how vile Kaito's cooking was. Well, that's not very Torture Princess-y of her, Kaito exasperatedly mused. It was a weird dream, to be sure— —but it was about as far from a nightmare as they came. A Message from Someone (2) I'm at a little bit of a loss here. As you can see, my words were able to get through to you. Now, I have no guarantee that they're actually reaching you, but...let's assume they are. Like a miracle. But now that I have this once-in-a-lifetime chance, what should I use it to say? Hmm...I suppose I should start by reviewing my assumptions. First, that you live in this world, this fragile land that Diablo destroys and God constructs anew. And second, that you, like everything else that exists, are one of God's creations. With that in mind, then as long as you're not an exceedingly young child, then you've probably heard a dozen or two quotes of mine. Perhaps more, if you're particularly scholarly or fond of folklore. For such quotes were written down and passed through the ages. "She spoke thus," they probably all started. However, I have an unfortunate truth I need to share with you. Those were all lies. None of them were my words. They may have been affectionate or perhaps filled with deep unspoken meaning, but none of them came from me. Never once did I speak of my memories, and never once did I record one of my thoughts. All those quotes you saw were thought up by someone else before being attributed to me. That was how people embellished my story. They didn't do it out of malice. They merely wanted me to be the manifestation of all their kindness, ideals, and admiration. Most words, when spoken, serve as little more than vague annoyances. But that's precisely why they're more appealing than anything I actually said. Words thought up, chosen, and passed down through the ages by the masses hold much greater significance than those spoken on the spur of the moment by a single person. But as a result, I have no idea what it is I should say now. After all, I have no way of making my true words surpass the false ones that others have passed off as mine. No, now that I think about it, that isn't quite it, is it? It's that I didn't have anything I wanted to convey to you to begin with. Ah, that's right. I... ...I have nothing I want to say. Now I finally see. That was how it's been this whole time, but this was the first moment I realized it consciously. There isn't a single, solitary thing I want to say. There are no morals I want to teach you, no examples I want to set. No, actually, let me be blunt here. I never loved you people— —and certainly not enough to want to leave you with my words. Kaito's Daily Routine (Back Side) A few days ago, the Torture Princess summoned a soul. Her demon-subjugation efforts took up most of her time, and she had never much cared for doing chores in the first place. As such, she decided to summon an "Unsullied Soul" to take care of her housework for her. However, that requirement was filled by a most unexpected individual. They were killed in a manner far crueler than their sins in life would warrant, true—but they also hailed from another world. His name was Kaito Sena. Now he was in charge of handling all the chores around her castle. Much to her dismay, though, Kaito's technical skills were lacking across the board, and his cooking in particular was downright disastrous. If it weren't for the one dish he did excel at, purin, Elisabeth would have strongly considered disposing of him. And to top it all off, he hadn't even started making her breakfast yet. In all likelihood, he was oversleeping, a crime that well warranted a punishment of death. "That Kaito... He certainly has some nerve, waking up after his master." When Elisabeth got hungry, she became much akin to a starving lion. Her heels clicked loudly as she strode briskly down the dim, unadorned hallway. The servant quarters were cramped, and they had none of the colored windows, suits of armor, or stone statues decorating their walls like the rest of the castle did. "He only just reincarnated here, and yet it's as though he's forgotten he's in the Torture Princess's castle already. Perhaps I'd best beat some respect for my majesty into him with the cat-o'-nine-tails... Hmm?" All of a sudden, she ended her ominous soliloquy. She frowned and stopped in her tracks. There was something in the middle of the hallway. Or to be more precise, there was a peculiar figure wriggling and squirming in front of Kaito's room. The thing was "soft," and it was stuck to his door, raggedly panting as it scraped its nails against the wood. Its body was split in half down the middle, making it look like the bizarre figure had been brutally torn to shreds. Flaps of skin dangled from the cross section, and for whatever reason, they were accompanied by a series of thin strings. On its other side, its heart was pressed against the door and rapidly pulsating. Given the state of the thing, it was odd that it was even alive. And in fact, it wasn't—it was "dead." It was nothing but a corpse, yet even so, it was writhing in pain. In that sense, its very existence was contradictory. Despite the fact that it was dead, it was shedding fat tears and scratching at the door in agony. All in all, it made for a rather sorry sight. The vast majority of people who saw it would have wanted to do something to help. Some might even feel guilty about how carefree their own lives were in comparison. However, Elisabeth was not the vast majority of people. She coldly clicked her tongue. "Unable to vanish, eh? Begone, now. You shan't find what you seek here." The moment she rejected it, it froze in place. Then without displaying an ounce of displeasure or annoyance, it disappeared. The vast pool of blood it had been accompanied with vanished as well. It left nothing behind. Hmph, Elisabeth scoffed. Irritated, she kicked Kaito's door open. After entering, she narrowed her eyes. Golden light was leaking in through the room's shutters, yet the darkness inside had yet to fade. She had little doubt that that was due to the agonized plea the thing had been making though the door.

The weight of its grudge had sullied the very air. Despite the bizarre situation he was in, though, Kaito himself was still fast asleep. However, when Elisabeth looked closer, she noticed that something was off about him. Hmm, she thought as she approached his bed. She peered at his face, and once she did, she realized exactly what was going on. Kaito's tongue was sticking out, and his body was convulsing. The corrupted air was giving him a nightmare. And it wasn't difficult to imagine what the nightmare was about. "...'Tis but natural one would make such a face, I suppose." Elisabeth shrugged. Kaito Sena's memories included the moment of his own death. His was a rare situation, to be sure. And in many ways, a decidedly unfortunate one. Elisabeth mused on that fact. 'Tis rather unpleasant, having a nightmare and being unable to wake up despite knowing it's a dream. As Kaito continued sleeping, his dream approached its climax. He began thrashing about, spraying drool and mucus every which way. He scratched at the air with his fingers, and tears rolled down his cheeks. Help, he mouthed to nobody in particular. Before long, his neck was going to snap. Elisabeth sighed. Then she raised her ravishingly shapely leg up high. "Taaaaaaaaaaaake that!" "Hurgh!" Her ax kick struck Kaito straight in the abdomen. The shock from the blow snapped him awake, and his limbs went stiff as he contorted in pain. He blinked a few times. It looked like he was wondering where he was and what he was doing there. At long last, though, he seemed to remember the grave reality of his situation. He gingerly glanced at Elisabeth. He started to say something, then clamped his mouth shut at the last moment. It was rare moment of prudence, coming from him. If he'd voiced so much as a single complaint, Elisabeth would have strung him up from the ceiling. Instead, he shifted his gaze over to the window. His eyes went wide when he saw the light streaming in through the shutters. Ah, so you've finally remembered your role and station, then? Dullard. "I see you're up early, Miss Elisabeth... No, yeah, I'm just up late." "Ah, so you're aware you've overslept, then, Kaito? 'Tis some nerve you have, indulging yourself in indolence beyond even that of your master." Elisabeth's smile was as malevolent as it was beautiful. Kaito's face went pale. And with that, Elisabeth Le Fanu greeted the morning— —one of the next of a long series of unpleasant, bothersome days. Her demon-subjugation efforts took up most of her time—that was the pretext under which Elisabeth had summoned Kaito Sena. However, the truth of the matter differed greatly. On all the days without demon battles, she was actually bored beyond belief. Although she was giving the Church regular reports and sending out familiars in search of information, that was the sum total of her responsibilities. In truth, the actual reason she called forth a servant was merely because she despised doing chores. As such, summoning Kaito freed her from having to do any of them. In theory, it should have been a happy ending. In practice, though, this only compounded her boredom. There were many things her stone castle was good at, but helping its inhabitants kill time wasn't on that list. But even so, she was neither shameless enough nor stupid enough to venture outside it. After all, the Torture Princess was a sinner without peer. Like a prisoner, her food was the only pleasure afforded to her. And thanks to Kaito, even that's been ruined... Well, nothing for it. May as well take a nap. Elisabeth yawned and began making her way back to her bedroom. After she killed the fourteen demons, she herself was destined to be burned at the stake. Until then, she intended to fritter away as much of the idle interim as she could. Before she could reach her room, though, she stopped. She stared down the hallway, then crossed her arms in displeasure. "Hmm. So it's back." A trail of blood dotted the stone floor before her. It was vividly crimson, as though it had just been spilled. However, stepping in it didn't leave any footprints. The blood was nothing more than an illusion. Although it was visible, it was closer to a lingering thought than an actual object. Elisabeth sighed. What to do, what to do? "Urgh, dealing with this would be a headache and a half. Were I alone, I'd just as soon leave it be." Unfortunately, though, her castle was currently also home to Kaito Sena. He was in real danger of being snatched up by the owner of this blood. In fact, given this morning's events, he might well have been the reason that it appeared in the first place. "There you go again, making more trouble for your long-suffering master. See, this is precisely what makes you so foolish." Elisabeth cursed her servant's name as she set off. She knew full well what a master's duty was. Kaito was carrying out his end of the deal and working as her servant, and that meant it was her responsibility to protect him. The fact that his work was all sloppy and half-assed notwithstanding. Well, it isn't as if I've anything better to do. Perhaps this would make for a good way to kill time. Elisabeth began casually following the trail of blood. The farther she went, the more blood there was. Elisabeth even started finding chunks of flesh and scraps of string floating in some of the larger drops. Kaito's chores took him all over the castle, so he must have covered at least some of that ground before she did. Yet despite how gruesome a spectacle it was, he never came to report it to her. In all likelihood, that meant that he hadn't been able to see it. He may hail from another world, but it's my blood that sustains his existence. How is it that he could see the main body yet was blind to such prominent tracks? Just how empty is that head of his? It would appear that Kaito Sena lacked any sense of wariness or appreciation for danger. Growing increasingly exasperated, Elisabeth picked up the pace. Eventually, she reached the small garden at the castle's rear. She opened the aged door leading outside and headed down the moss-covered steps. A slight wind grazed her body. Underneath the clear blue sky, the situation in the garden was unfolding in exactly the way she'd anticipated. For a moment, a surprisingly serious thought passed through her mind—perhaps it would be best to turn around and leave posthaste. Down in the garden, Kaito Sena was facing half of a ravaged corpse. It was making tears stream from its eyes, as though silently begging for help. However, Elisabeth knew that help wasn't what it was after. It had overcome such base rationality long ago. Now it existed solely to resent people. It craved nothing more than to share its pain with the living. 'Twas torn up, sewed together, then while it yet lived...killed. That kind of agony was enough to rob anyone of their humanity. Now the corpse had been reduced to a monster. However, Kaito didn't seem to notice the bottomless malice emanating from it. He regarded it without showing so much as an ounce of fear. Then he said something truly idiotic. "Don't worry, I'm coming." ...Perhaps it would be best if I were simply to leave him to his fate. Elisabeth gave the thought some serious consideration. In the end, it was close, but she did eventually change her mind. It was because Kaito's expression was simply far too kind. His sympathy and tolerance toward those suffering in pain were written all over his face. Without so much as hesitating, he approached the monster. It was an exceedingly foolish sight. Yet at the same time, so too was it pitiable. That was true of Kaito and the corpse alike. "Idiots, the lot of them." And so Elisabeth snapped her finger. A mass of iron stakes burst up from the ground in front of Kaito. Without a noise, they pierced the body clean through. Even though that was the second time Elisabeth had gotten in its way, the mercilessly skewered monster still didn't offer a single complaint as it vanished. Nothing remained of it. However, just repelling it over and over wasn't going to accomplish anything. 'Twill continue appearing, no doubt. What to do, what to do? ...Oh? All of a sudden, a certain item sprang to mind. An image of a clear glass ball flitted through her thoughts. She crossed her arms and began contemplating whether or not it would be useful. Before long, she reached her verdict. As it turned out, it might just do the trick. "Ah, such ingenuity! I've always had a faint inkling, but it would seem that I really am a genius. Oy, Kaito! Hmm?" Elisabeth narrowed her eyes. Perhaps due to the shock from her attack, Kaito was lying flopped over on his back. His eyes were even closed. For whatever reason, he was trying to fall asleep. It was utterly unclear as to why. At that rate, he was likely to misconstrue the stake attack as having been nothing more than a dream. Elisabeth had no objections there. It would save her having to explain what was going on. Instead, she bent her elbow and moved it into position. "Taaaaaaaaaaaake that!" "Hurgh!" With an absurdly carefree cry, she slammed her elbow straight into Kaito's gut. The shock from the blow immediately snapped his eyes open. He gingerly turned his gaze toward his belly. Elisabeth grinned at him with her arm still buried in his gut. After ten seconds or so of silence, Kaito finally spoke. "You know, I figured you'd go for another leg attack, but it's the arm this time, huh?" "Hmhm, know now that I am a master of every combat technique known to— That's not important right now, Kaito! First you oversleep, then you see fit to take a siesta on top of that?!" "Huh, yeah, I guess I did." After having that fact pointed out, Kaito hurriedly rose to his feet. Elisabeth angrily arched her eyebrows, and the two of them exchanged some sharp repartee. Right as he was in the middle of reflecting on his own failings, though, his expression suddenly froze. "...Wait, huh? I was asleep, right?" Apparently, the whole situation was uncanny enough that even an idiot as simple as him could take notice. He glanced around, probably looking for the bloodstains. For a moment, his gaze lingered on the upturned patch of soil where the iron stakes had come out. Knowing that whatever annoying questions he'd come up with would only add to her workload, Elisabeth immediately called out to him. "Anyhow, if you have the time to be brazenly napping like that, then you must surely be bored to death. 'Tis fortunate for you, then, that I have the perfect job for those idle hands of yours. Come along now, and be chipper about it." "Okay, so I'll admit that I was napping, but that doesn't mean I'm— OW!" "Oh, shut up! Just come!" She grabbed him by the earlobe and forcibly dragged him off. As she did, she shot a glance back. A graphic crimson pool was bubbling up on the ground. The moment she saw it, Elisabeth coldly averted her gaze and began hurrying on forward. It was almost as though she was trying to deny there had been anything there at all. A long time ago, Elisabeth installed a magical device in one of the rooms down in the castle's dimly lit underground hallways. The device was designed to release people from nightmares. However, its actual effectiveness was suspect at best. On top of that, testing it required at least two people, so as a result, Elisabeth had gone without ever trying

it and had in fact mostly forgotten that it existed at all. However, it might well be just the thing they needed to resolve their current situation. The only problem was how dangerous it was. Kaito, of course, had strong feelings about being used as a guinea pig. "Okay, that's gonna be a reeeeal hard pass from me!" "No, no, it'll work! I haven't the faintest shred of proof to support that notion, but I have this strange feeling that you'll do just great!" "That's a little too important to leave up to a notion, don't you think?! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop! If you're gonna shove someone into something, at least make sure it works first!" "You're a man; have some guts! Worry not—if anything happens, I'll be sure to retrieve your ashes!" "Oh, so we're just working under the assumption that I'm gonna die... Hey, wait, ahhhhhhhhhh!" However, this had all been his fault to begin with, so his human rights were forfeit. Elisabeth ignored his protests and pressed him against the device. With a shoop, he got sucked inside—or so he likely thought. Transporting his entire body would have been far more trouble than it was worth. Instead, the device was designed to split off the tip of his soul and borrow it for a little bit. When it did, his consciousness went along for the ride. Back in reality, he had merely passed out. Elisabeth left his body on the floor and began observing what was going on in the device. "Now, then. I've my suspicions about his nightmare's true form. Let's see if I'm right." Inside the glass, the flowers were glowing crimson, and their bloodred forms were endlessly shifting. They became butterflies, then turned back into flowers, then became butterflies again. They gently scattered and flapped their wings. And the beautiful cycle continued. Suddenly, though, something changed. The dream world's administrator, a black-and-white tapir, made its appearance. Kaito unguardedly made his way toward it. When he tried to touch it, though, it casually gobbled his hand up. "I mean, 'twas the right answer, but still, what kind of fool allows themselves to be eaten so easily?!" Elisabeth could scarcely believe what she had just watched. Sure enough, Kaito was a dimwit, an idiot, and a simpleton. Then the tapir burst. Its skin split from the top down, then fell gently to the ground. The animal had been reduced to a horrible blob of muscle fibers. Chunks of meat began cascading off it, dripping with mucus as they delivered the data about the nightmare the tapir had eaten to the world itself. Then the inside of the glass ball sharpened. The field of flowers ceased its perpetual expansion and shed its crimson hue. All that remained was a vast array of silver needles. The butterflies' wings followed suit, thinning out and becoming knives. The entire space was filled with objects designed to hurt people. Elisabeth heaved a heavy sigh. "As I thought... 'Tis like a veritable cage of pain." Her silky black hair swayed as she turned around. With a faint smile on her face, she called out: "Ah, another expectation met. Sure enough, you heeded the call. This device piques your fancy, doesn't it?" She was looking out the room's open door— —toward the pool of crimson— —that was expanding and spreading forth like a sea of blood. Countless viscous balls of foam bubbled on the pool's blackened crimson surface. This gave it the appearance of a putrid, burbling swamp. An especially large bubble formed on its surface, then popped, revealing a gaunt set of fingers. The rest of the lone arm rose up shortly thereafter, as did a single leg. Together, they dragged the torn-up body across the stone floor. The gruesome corpse looked up at Elisabeth. It offered her no other reply. However, it did give its skin, flesh, and organs a meaningful shake. Elisabeth nodded. Sure enough. The thing longed to be able to share its pain with the living, and it responded to the pain of others as well. Its sole desire was to merge its pain with someone else's, then force them to take on the entirety of this combined pain on their own. That was the reason behind the corpse's fixation on Kaito Sena. At the moment, it was staring at the magical device so hard, it seemed liable to bore a hole in it. "Grrr... Urrr..." "Aye, 'tis a world constructed from pain. Interested, aren't you, in seeing which fool cooked it up? O pitiful wretch sheared apart by the Knight while still living and used as part of his beast." And with that, Elisabeth casually revealed the corpse's true nature. Originally, it had just been a normal old human. However, after it was captured alive by the Knight, the weakest of the fourteen ranked demons, it was torn apart and tied together with countless other such victims to form a massive patchwork beast. And the only reason it had suffered that horrible fate was because it had had the simple misfortune of living in a village near the Torture Princess's castle. In a certain sense, it was Elisabeth's fault that this villager had come to harm. However, she didn't even know his name. To her, he was just another innocent, nameless victim among countless others like him. Even so, the corpse showed no sign of holding any special grudge against the Torture Princess. And that was to be expected. He didn't have the capacity to resent any one specific individual. The atrocity that innocent villager suffered was beyond the scope a person could even comprehend. When someone had their body torn up and stitched together into a horrible beast, they generally lacked the presence of mind to attribute blame to a particular person. Suspended in that state of confusion, the villager had suffered untold agonies. However, the Knight's death had freed him. Or rather, it should have, but for some reason, he was still trapped in that state of pain. 'Tis doubtless because he couldn't accept... No, rather, he couldn't understand what had happened. Normally, the villager should have died the moment his body was torn apart. However, the Knight's magic had forcibly kept him alive. Even when he suddenly returned to his proper state of "death," he couldn't understand that that was what had happened. Instead of disappearing like normal, his soul stagnated. And because of that, he changed. All he knew was pain. The simple intensity of his agony had overwritten his very humanity. That was what had reduced the villager to the monster it was now. However, releasing it from that state would be easier said than done. Its consciousness had been worn away too badly for it to respond to reason, and on top of that, Elisabeth was the Torture Princess. Hurting people and causing them pain was the sum total of who she was. She possessed neither the virtue of a saint nor the compassion of a hero. However... "That said, continuing to have you haunt me seems a rather unpleasant proposition. Perhaps I'd best do something about you after all. Now, the boy who created this world is inside the glass ball. What do you say?" The device glowed silver as Elisabeth pressed her palm against it. Inside, Kaito was engaging in an act that was either gallant, reckless, or simply stupid beyond belief and setting off across the brutal landscape without so much as faltering before the pain that was going to entail. Blood trickled across the world of knives and needles. Upon seeing that, the monster immediately reacted. It reached out with its one arm and leg. How simple it was, how pitiable, and how foolish. Elisabeth let out a callous laugh. However, those same traits would go on to save it. Whether or not the monster would truly attain salvation, though, Elisabeth had no idea. "Very well, then, I shall allow it. Come along now." The monster accepted the Torture Princess's invitation and leaped. Its body, which was composed of nothing but its soul, vanished inside the magic device. Elisabeth ran mana through her palm and shifted her consciousness and part of her soul along after it. And with an illusory shoop— —Elisabeth got sucked into the ball. "You fear pain, aye, but you're far too accustomed to it. I daresay that that contradiction there is where your warped personality stems from." As Elisabeth fell, she let out a quiet murmur. Kaito must have heard her, as he frantically glanced around. When he did, though, he twisted his body a little too far and lost his balance. Like the fool he was, he'd forgotten that his foot was still impaled on the needles. Elisabeth frowned. Well, that's not good. She flapped her dress like a bird's wings and whistled. Darkness and flower petals whirled through the air, eventually coalescing into a black ball and materializing with a pop. The dream's master had made its appearance once more and was now far larger to boot. Elisabeth landed gracefully atop the massive tapir. As she made it do a nose dive, she checked back in on Kaito's situation. He was right on the verge of completely toppling over. "You're incorrigible, you know that? What, do you have some secret quota of blunders you feel compelled to meet or something?" Exasperated, she reached out her arm and snatched Kaito's hand as it flailed through the air. Then all in one go, she yanked him upward. After plopping him down on the tapir's back, she sat down herself before he had a chance to come to his senses. Then she rested her arms on her knees and went back to observing the world. Sure enough—they merged. The corpse had come inside along with her, but it was currently nowhere to be seen. However, just because it wasn't visible didn't mean it wasn't there. Not only was it no more than a soul, but it was also little more than a mass of resentment and obsession with pain. Given that the world they were in was composed of nothing but pain, it and the monster were practically identical. As a result, the monster had gotten absorbed by the world the moment it came inside, much like the tapir's meat rain had. In a sense, the corpse and everything that was visible were now one and the same. It had been spread throughout the entire world. Elisabeth nodded. Everything was going as she'd anticipated. When she did, an angry shout came from behind her. *** "Oh, hello there, Kaito." "Don't you 'oh, hello' me, dammit! Do you have any idea what I just went through because of you?!" When Kaito continued loudly shouting, Elisabeth lowered the hand she'd been lightly waving at him with. Then she shrugged and gave him a nonchalant reply. "Well, you say that, but even I hadn't the faintest idea that your nightmares' cause would take such a form. And besides, who exactly was it who refused to wait for me, striding across those needles on his own like an utter fool?" "Well, it does sound bad when you put it that way... Wait, hold on a minute. This is the cause of my nightmares?" "That it is. 'Tis a contradictory sight indeed." Elisabeth gazed down at the transformed field of flowers as she spoke. Still seated, Kaito scooted over until he was right next to her. What an easily distracted fellow he was. Elisabeth faced the world of knives and needles as she went on. "To pinpoint the precise source of another's nightmares, one must first dive deep into their memories. However, this is but an experimental device, and such a complex feat is beyond it. Instead, it displays a symbolic manifestation of the fear that drives its subject's nightmares. What you see before you is its result. You fear pain, yet you're accustomed to it and, at times, even accept it willingly. As I said, contradictory. 'Tis

perverse, and that means a lot coming from me." "...Huh." "A sea of knives and needles, eh...? 'Tis a veritable cage of pain, impossible to ever escape from." Elisabeth narrowed her gaze. The scene bore a disturbing resemblance to the atrocity the Torture Princess once put her fiefdom through. Her subjects' desperate pleas for the release of death had been music to her ears, and she'd savored them while sipping on the finest of wines. Elisabeth went silent as her mind turned back to that night of madness. Kaito didn't say anything, either. For a time, it was silent atop the tapir's back. Suddenly struck by the absurdity of it all, Elisabeth arched her back and stretched her arms all the way up. After bringing them back down, she exhaled. "To be frank, though, it doesn't matter to me in the slightest." "Don't you think that's a little too honest?" "Ha. You think your trauma is special? What you fear, what you find unpleasant, what weight you bear...I've no intention of asking the details, nor would they hold my interest if I did." "That's...fair, I guess." "That said, I do aim to obliterate this place now." "...Say what?" Kaito's reply was completely dumbfounded, a fact that Elisabeth found insulting. How utterly insolent. In a more righteous world, he wouldn't just be tortured for that; he'd be straight-up executed. Setting aside that this was how the magic device worked, the situation as a whole made their sole option abundantly clear. They had to break the cage. They had to kill the monster. For that was providence, as well as the merciful thing to do. "When you put someone in the device, it reproduces the symbolic cause of their nightmares. However, that alone is but the first step. The way it ends the nightmares is by having a third party destroy the reproduction, thereby freeing the subject's mind. A violent configuration, to be sure." "I feel like that doesn't make any sense at all. Is this really gonna make the nightmares stop?" "Oh, there's certainly no guarantee of that! Most of the developers of large-scale magic devices such as this end up going mad!" "I'm starting to sense a trend with these unfounded statements you keep making." "That said, ridiculous as the ideas behind it may be, 'twas well worth testing it out. We've not had any battles as of late, and I could feel my body growing duller by the day... Plus, I just went through a rather unpleasant experience." Elisabeth let out a biting murmur and cracked her knuckles. Now that she thought about it, this had been quite a day. Starting with Kaito's failure to wake up on time, one unpleasant event had occurred after another. To be quite frank, Elisabeth was a little fed up with it. It was high time she put an end to it all. "Bakuuuu," the tapir cried. It could clearly sense her violent intentions. However, Elisabeth ignored it. To the contrary, in fact, she treated its cry as a signal to let the destruction commence. She reached out into empty space, and a vortex of darkness and crimson flower petals formed around her pale hand. Then she drew a long sword from within. "Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal!" The unsettling epitaph inscribed on the sword's elegant blade flashed. Anyone who saw it would have the meaning of its phrase driven straight into their brain. Elisabeth swung the sword down like she was signaling an execution to take place. "Witches' Dance!" Its blade sliced through the empty air. As it did, the silver landscape began to change. The air shimmered with heat, and the ground, which had taken the wave of her magic head on, transformed into a vast sheet of burning metal. If anyone had been standing on it, the heat would have forced them to hop around like a madman. However, visible beings weren't the only ones who could feel its effects. Even now, there was a lone monster writhing atop the scorching plane. Elisabeth narrowed her crimson eyes. It hurts, doesn't it? Good! Savor the taste of my torture and, with it, remember. The pain of being burned was different from the pain of being torn apart. Once the monster experienced that new kind of pain, doubt would surely rise up in its mind. He was already dead. Why, then, should he have to experience yet another type of pain? And when that happened, that intense confusion should temporarily revive the monster's humanity. The metal plane's temperature rose mercilessly, growing higher and higher by the moment. Its silver flowers drooped and sagged as they melted. The intense heat was permeating every inch of this bounded world. And Kaito and Elisabeth were no exception. The tapir only barely managed to ascend in time. It flailed its stubby arms and legs about to protest the heat. Kaito had to cling tight to its round back to avoid being thrown off. He let out a panicked shout. "H-hey, Elisabeth! At this rate, you're gonna end up burning us to death, too!" "Hmm. That is a problem, isn't it? To be quite frank, I never actually considered that possibility." "Why wasn't that the first thing you thought of?!" Kaito's cry echoed with concern and indignation, but Elisabeth didn't pay it the slightest heed. She was listening to a different howl, one that was coming from the world itself. "No, no, no no no nonononono! It's hot, it hurts, help, someone save me!" The corpse's sanity had been locked in a stupor by its simple agony, but the new pain had revitalized it and brought it back to the forefront. And now that the corpse had its senses back, there was something Elisabeth needed to do. She parted her scarlet lips and, without a moment's hesitation, made her bold declaration. "Now, 'tis time to seal the deal." It was time for her to end all the nightmares. Destroying and killing were the sole talents the Torture Princess had to her name. As such, Elisabeth's role to was deliver a second violent death to the newly conscious soul. She swung her sword down without so much as a shred of mercy. Darkness and crimson flower petals surged forth, emitting a shock wave that got absorbed by the gaps between the ashen clouds. The sky creaked. Then the sound of glass shattering filled the air. That sound was the death knell of the world and monster alike. The world was broken, and death was the only fate that awaited any who were spread throughout it. The innocent villager had now met his second death. Elisabeth was certain of it. Shards of the sky cascaded down like shooting stars. Thousands of scraps of light rained down from overhead. And immediately thereafter, Elisabeth and Kaito got violently launched outside. "Taaaaaaaaaaaake that!" "Hurgh!" That marked the third attack Kaito's chest had suffered that day. It was getting to the point where Elisabeth felt she should start collecting a fee for services rendered. Kaito, on the other hand, seemed displeased with the wake-up calls. How utterly insolent. This time, though, Elisabeth decided to overlook his slight. Instead, she took a moment to seriously examine the broken ball. The damage was fairly severe. It had served its purpose just the way she'd hoped it would, but she had a bone to pick with its shabby construction. "What a flimsy piece of junk that turned out to be. For how dangerous a device it was, I'd have expected it to survive at least a single use." "I bet it would have if you didn't use it like a lunatic." Kaito gave her an exasperated reply. He wasn't just being insolent; now he was being downright rude. However, Elisabeth chose to overlook his irreverence once more, and the two of them shared a trivial little exchange. All the while, Elisabeth continued running her fingers over the device. The world of pain was broken. The monster was dead. However, it was unclear whether or not the device would ever be fit for use again. Well, I'm sure I'll fix it somehow or other, Elisabeth ultimately decided. She withdrew her hand and turned to Kaito. "And on another note, I take it your odd drowsiness is gone?" "Huh? Oh, actually, now that you mention it, yeah... I guess today's just been one weird experience after another." His answer was far vaguer than Elisabeth would have liked. She frowned. After being freed from the Knight's beast, the villager's soul had been left without a proper form. The only reason it had been able to materialize the way it had was because it had found such a choice piece of prey in Kaito. The sensation he felt once it started hunting him hadn't been drowsiness; it had been the sheer pressure of the monster's desire to drag him to his death. Elisabeth took another look around Kaito. The dark shadow was gone. It would appear that the monster really was dead. Or to be more precise, it was now properly aware that it was dead. As such, it had vanished off to wherever dead people normally went. If such a place even exists, mind you. The existence of the higher entities God and Diablo had been conclusively determined, but nobody had been able to prove where people's souls went when they died. That was why Elisabeth hadn't known if her choice would end up bringing salvation to the monster. The only things she had done were grant a dead man more pain and vanquish him as he screamed. 'Twould be arrogant to describe such an act as "sending it to its rest." The wicked Torture Princess had ended its existence. That was all. A dead man had vanished. Nothing more, nothing less. Elisabeth didn't regret her decision, nor was she ashamed of it. She gave a proud, haughty nod. "If so, then I daresay you have me to thank. If you wish to drop to your knees and express your reverent gratitude, I certainly shan't stop you." "Why? Just why?" Kaito shot her a resentful look. He truly was foolish, this foolish servant of hers. However, it was precisely that foolishness that made it such a bother to explain things to him when he directed baseless complaints her way. Elisabeth elected just to scoff. Then she suddenly remembered how famished she was. Meals were some of the highlights of her days. In fact, they were the only highlights. She crossed her arms. Then instead of complaining, she went on. "Now then, Kaito, 'tis almost dinnertime. Should my meal be late, I assume you've no objections to finding yourself atop the Ducking Stool." "Actually, I think I have an objection or two." Even after she threatened him like that, he was still probably going to present her with something utterly inedible. Even though she knew that, Elisabeth looked forward to her dinner nonetheless. Everything past here is nothing more than a digression. You could ignore it all, and not be the slightest bit worse off for it. The story started a good while back. Back when Elisabeth first installed the magic device designed to release people from nightmares. Why would she do such a thing? Every day, she would spend countless hours in idle slumber. She was the type that preferred to sleep au naturel. Never once had she tossed and turned due to nightmares, never once had she gotten insufficient sleep, and never once had her rest interfered with her daytime activities. However, the Torture Princess dreamed. And it was rather unpleasant, having a nightmare and being unable to wake up despite knowing it was a dream. In a world that she was unable to wake from of her own volition, she was bombarded with constant shouts. Loathsome Elisabeth, repulsive Elisabeth, cruel, hideous Elisabeth! A curse upon you, a curse upon you, a curse, a curse, an eternal curse upon you, Elisabeth! Countless voices echoed out with scorn and maledictions.

The Torture Princess was being burned in the fires of Hell in front of all the masses. Night in and night out, her torment continued without cease. However, Elisabeth Le Fanu had never once tossed and turned. And she had never once feared going to sleep. A Message from Someone (3) "I never once loved you people." I believe I said something to that effect in my last message. Truth be told, though, that was a lie. Back then, I did love you. Or at least, I stubbornly convinced myself that I did. No, no, even that's fairly far from the truth. I really do need to stop talking in vague half statements. But just to begin with, defining love isn't the easiest thing to do. For example, can you truly say that you love the fragile world you live in? Can you really describe your relationship with the thing you interact with and bear responsibilities toward each day with a word as pure and straightforward as love? I strongly doubt it. And even if you can, it's nothing more than the product of self-delusion. In reality, the way you feel about it is complicated, with all sorts of different emotions intermingling and coexisting. I once hated a world such as yours, and so, too, did I love it. The real me never once possessed the unconditional love or boundless mercy that the stories attribute to me. I was never perfectly good, and I was never perfectly evil. However, my saying this might be nothing more than an act of outrageous modesty. Back then, I was driven by all sorts of ideas, convictions, and self-righteousness and filled with all sorts of sorrow, grief, and sadness, and yet even so, I clung desperately to my love and my hope. Thinking back on it now, the inside of my brain must have been like an incandescent pit of hellfire. In other words, I had the makings of a preeminent deviant— —as well as the confidence and blind faith befitting a savior, all in spades. If I hadn't, I never would have been able to commit a sin that profane. Or at the very least, I would have refused to bear the burden of my failure. Yet I did in fact both commit a sin and bear the burden. Because of that, I became the most contradictory entity this world has ever seen. I am more sinful than any, holier than any, lowlier than any, and more exalted than any. I am a sinner without peer. And I am an innocent victim. As for my current status, though— —I'm sorry to say that I've gone well and truly mad. Elisabeth's Daily Routine (Front Side) "Mmm... Ahhh." Elisabeth let out an alluring sigh as she woke. Her consciousness burst up from the fire and curses that made up her nightmare, and her long lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes. Then she gracefully rose. Her blanket slid from her bare shoulders, and her smooth skin gleamed like a pearl in the morning light. Elisabeth preferred to sleep au naturel, and as a result, her silken black hair flowed down her shapely cleavage like water. The whole scene had a taboo beauty to it, as well a peaceful sort of calm. However, Elisabeth soon broke that tranquility with a small scoff. "...Hmph." Her bedroom was modest, and in it, she was alone. The person who was normally by her side when she woke was nowhere to be seen. There was only one other person who was allowed to enter her bedroom in the morning, and it was her automaton maid, Hina. Even since she was first activated, Hina had not only been serving as a valuable combat asset, but she had also been carrying out her maid duties to perfection. Every morning without fail, Hina would bring her a greeting and a cup of tea with a smile on her face. "Good morning, my dearest Lady Elisabeth! The weather is lovely today, as well befits your beauty and my beloved Master Kaito's handsomeness!" Kaito had turned down Hina's offer to do the same for him, so she had been devoting all her effort into making Elisabeth's morning refreshment the best it could be. Because Hina carefully changed the tea's composition based on the ambient temperature and humidity, it always hit the spot just right. Today, though, Hina was absent from her post. However, it wasn't because she was late or had overslept. It was simply because Elisabeth had woken up too early. Outside, it was still dark. Dawn had yet to break. At the moment, Hina was probably still in the middle of partaking in her little hobby before she got to work preparing breakfast (her "brief little indulgence," she called it). Each morning, she would press herself against the door to Kaito's room and listen closely to the sound of his breathing. What she found enjoyable about that was wholly unclear to Elisabeth. However, at least it was harmless. Elisabeth decided to leave her to her own devices. The larger problem lay elsewhere. Outside her window, there was something on the other side of the shutters. Its unpleasant presence was what woke Elisabeth up. She didn't sense any animosity from it. However, the fact remained that it had a strangely foul smell to it. "What, more of this nonsense? Who is it this time who approaches the Torture Princess's castle so fearlessly?" Elisabeth was annoyed, and for good reason. Ever since she subjugated Vlad Le Fanu, she had gotten wrapped up in one bizarre incident after another. For example, there was the battle against the Grand Governor the other day. Before the fight even began, she and the others got wrapped up in a mess involving animal ears. At the end of the day, what even were animal ears? The more she thought about it, the less sense it made. Now, though, things had finally started settling down around the castle. Or at least, she thought they had. "My dream wasn't a pleasant one by any stretch of the imagination, but even so, interfering with my sleep is a heinous crime indeed." Elisabeth strode over to her window. Whoever it was on the other side, they had been ready. She grabbed the shutters and slammed them open. Outside, a dark bat-like figure was flapping its wings. The moment she saw it, Elisabeth snapped her fingers. "Silk Pin." Crimson flower petals whirled up, accompanied by a darkness blacker than night. An almost laughably soft thump sounded out. Her pin pierced the strange creature clean through and pressed it against the floor like a specimen on display. It was a familiar that appeared to be a cross between a bat and a piglet. Something fell from its talons onto the floor. Elisabeth looked at it. Then she frowned. It looked like a crimson flower. And yet it wasn't. It was a human wrist. After being lopped off from halfway down the elbow, the arm had undergone a grotesque treatment. All the bones had been removed around the cross section, and the flesh had been carefully carved into thin little sheets. From there, they'd been peeled outward into a beautiful crimson rose. In the bone's place, something black and boorish-looking had been jammed inside. "All that effort spent, just for that? They could have easily delivered its contents on their own." Elisabeth sighed and went to retrieve the wrist. The object inside the hole was a wooden cylinder. The way it had been plunged into the soft meaty pouch called to mind the image of a man and a woman having intercourse. A wet, squishy noise sounded as Elisabeth wrenched the cylinder free. Strands of viscous mucilage dripped off it. Suddenly, she raised an eyebrow. The cylinder's specifics had defied all her expectations. It was a statue of the Saint, tears of blood and all. "What is this, blasphemy? Sacrilege? A cheap act of rebellion? Any and all of the above, I dare imagine, but still, isn't it a tad blatant? A little subtlety would go a long way... Although, that said, I suppose this whole little scheme was annoying from the get-go." Exasperated, Elisabeth took another look at the Saint statue. Its slender form was soiled from top to bottom with blood and fat, and its neck had a cut on it from being beheaded. They must have removed the head, then sealed it back on with wax. Elisabeth wasted no time in slicing the head back off. Inside, she found a rolled-up piece of parchment. She unfurled it and scanned it over. "...I see. I've seen this type before, but I do wish they'd have at least waited for daybreak." Elisabeth gave her bare shoulders a shrug. Then she snapped her fingers, and darkness and flower petals enveloped her naked body. A moment later, the Torture Princess was clad in her black bondage dress. It was loud, bold, and audacious, just the way Elisabeth liked it. However, that wasn't to say she had designed the outfit intentionally. It took its form all on its own based on the aggressiveness of Elisabeth's mana and the brand of magic she used. It was a design that most people would be ashamed to be caught dead in. However, Elisabeth was quite fond of it. After all, this sort of shameless, provocative outfit suited the Torture Princess to a T. Her dress's hem fluttered as she spoke. "Well, nothing for it. Bothersome as it may be, 'tis best to clean up messes quick. If the matter remains unsettled come morning, that dunce Kaito will no doubt make quite a fuss, and... Wait, hmm? Why should I, the master, have to look out for my servant's feelings?" Elisabeth frowned. How odd. However, she quickly pulled herself together and tossed the wrist and cylinder over her shoulder. A pair of noises rang out, one a hard clunk, and the other a soft splurch. The two items had hit the wall, and they both fell to the floor. Elisabeth didn't spare them so much as a glance. As she set off, the scarlet inside of her dress flared out behind her. Her heels clicked as she strode through the castle and made her way to the exit. The world outside was clad in the black of night. Then without a single attendant in tow— —the Torture Princess strode out into the moonlight. She probably seemed oddly defenseless like that. However, that was nothing compared with the fact that the Torture Princess's castle wasn't even closed off to visitors. The bare rock it was surrounded by gave it a boorish sort of appearance, and one might even describe the place as fortresslike. However, its actual defenses were surprisingly lacking. It had no barrier erected around it, nor did it house any summoned beasts or gatekeepers. It did have some traps and walking suits of armor to its name, but even those turned off during the day and became nothing more than ornamentation. And the castle's existence wasn't kept a secret in the slightest. As a result, countless people spoke of it in hushed tones. "The Torture Princess lives in that castle of rock and stone," they said. For a rumor, it had a decidedly fantastical ring to it. All that was extremely intentional. In truth, Elisabeth left herself vulnerable to attack on purpose. By using herself as bait for the demons, she was hoping to hasten their showdowns. However, the rod she cast pulled up no shortage of small fry as well. This was certainly not the first unwanted dimwit who'd come knocking on her door. "It's a wondrous honor to be graced with your radiant presence, O beautiful Torture Princess. O ravishing Elisabeth Le Fanu!" A voice overcome with emotion echoed out through the dark forest. A group of birds took off at the sudden noise, cawing loudly as they flew away. The speaker quivered passionately and spread his arms wide. The

high-quality black cloak he was wearing quivered along with him. There was a bowler hat perched atop his head, and his face was hidden behind a gaudy mask. It was covered in silver, jewels, and goose feathers, no doubt to capture the attention of any who looked at it and get them to forget the rest of his appearance. However... "Oh, how long I've dreamed of this day... Why, you're even more beautiful than I imagined! How splendiferous!" "Ah. Is that so? Goodness me." ...his voice was obnoxiously shrill. He could dress himself up however much he liked, but it meant nothing when he had such a distinctive characteristic right there in the open. Elisabeth looked at the man with lifeless eyes. She hadn't expected the person waiting for her to be quite such an idiot. The two of them were standing in the forest down beneath the desolate hill her castle stood on. It was the exact spot that had been written on the parchment. Elisabeth squeezed the bridge of her nose. Her head hurt. "You wake a person at this ungodly hour, then have the nerve to say I'm 'gracing you with my presence'? If every word that comes out of your mouth is going to be this insipid, I've half a mind to slice you in two where you stand." The man stiffened up. Apparently, he'd hoped for them to get off on a better foot. A few seconds later, he feigned having to cough, then let out a questionable laugh and tried once more. "Hyoh-heh, I suppose that's the Torture Princess for you. That pride, that arrogance...how fitting for the one who will guide us and share our path!" "What? No, a rebuttal such as that hardly scratches the surface of the Torture Princess's arrogance. Good heavens, how tepid did you think I was going to be? What are you, some wet-behind-the-ears noble? If the Church found out you were saying such things, they wouldn't just stop at seizing your assets, you know. They'd subject you to a full-on inquisition. And looking at you, that's not an experience you'd much relish..." Elisabeth put a quick damper on the man's excitement. He shook violently. However, he rallied once more. He then let out another laugh. Elisabeth almost made a quip about the limited range of his responses, but she decided it wouldn't be worth the trouble. Instead, she shifted her gaze behind him. Waiting in the trees was a black-lacquered carriage. Its horses' glossy coats were the same hue, and his lamp-carrying driver was clad all in black as well. At a glance, it was impossible to tell what family the man belonged to. On further inspection, however, the relief of the carriage's coat of arms was still identifiable even though it had been painted over. Not buying a new carriage when one was trying to travel incognito was an amateurish mistake. Everything about the man seemed downright farcical. His is a common type...too common, I daresay. And a headache each time they pop up. As Elisabeth muttered internally, the man continued his outlandish hyoh-ing and heh-ing. He seemed to have little intention of ever getting to the point. Elisabeth spoke in a tired tone in hopes of getting the ball rolling. "So can I leave now?" "Of course not!" "Then I shall ask you thus—are you a demon worshipper? An organization that stands against the Church? Or perhaps the leader of a religion all your own?" "O-oh my, to think you'd hit the nail on the head with such accuracy..." "What? Given the way you delivered your message, it'd have been odder for me not to have figured it out. No matter, though." Elisabeth let out a long sigh. At this point, there was little meaning in getting fed up. This wasn't the first time she'd been called for in this way. The Torture Princess was a pawn of the Church, tasked with killing the fourteen demons and slated for execution. Yet even so, there were no small number of heretics and blasphemers who still saw her as someone to be idolized. To them, the way she'd killed her people in gross defiance of God and her battles with the knights were feats to be lauded, and the atrocities she'd committed at the Plain of Skewers were considered particularly praiseworthy. Now, though, that ideal woman had been reduced to a lapdog in service to God and the Church. Some of them refused to accept that fact, and as such, they came calling on her from time to time. The man before her was probably no different. He bowed as he began speaking once more. "It would seem I don't need to introduce myself, I see... Very well! Then let's talk, you and I. As you surmised, we stand against the coercive brainwashing the Church conducts on the masses, and we hold demons in the highest regard in their stead." "I don't doubt it for a moment. You're as black a lot as they come; that much is clear enough from your garb. You people do love that color, don't you?" "The way they shout for us to believe in God and the Saint, the way they insist their doctrine is the one true creed...it's unnatural, isn't it? And their legends are all full of holes. The more research we do, the more we find to question in their dogma. But, ah, you're the Torture Princess. Surely, I don't need to tell you about how twisted the Church is." "True enough. The specifics of the Church's legends are too vague to warrant the blind faith they ask for, and the accounts of the Saint vary dramatically from book to book. Between that, some of their more suspect inquisitors, and the very existence of saints, the Church has no shortage of notable perversions. So?" "So it's our noble duty to rectify the failings that come from their unjust control of the world! And to do that, we have to offer our faith and devotion to demons, the beings who stand against not just the Church, but against God himself!" "Well now, that doesn't make a lick of sense. God proved Himself unworthy, so you turned immediately to Diablo and its brood? You're simply exchanging one extreme for another. But no matter, that. Let me then ask the question that bears asking. That is the reason I answered your insipid summons and came all the way here, after all." Elisabeth let out yet another sigh. She closed her eyes, then opened them. When she did, they gleamed crimson, and she spoke in the stern tone of a seasoned interrogator. "That meat was fresh. Were they yet living when you sliced it off?" "Ah, so you enjoyed our little present!" Elisabeth's tone was now as cold as ice, but the man didn't seem to notice the change. His mask gleamed ominously as he enthusiastically went on. "Our group holds rituals, which involve human sacrifices, to deepen our bonds and to further blasphemy against God. We take the offering alive and make beautiful artwork out of them. Just like you—just like the Torture Princess!" The corner of Elisabeth's mouth twitched upward. The man still didn't notice. She shook her head from side to side. Then her demeanor did a complete about-face, and she curled her lips into a sweet smile. "I see. So you claim to be imitating me, of all things... Very well, then. You lot possess skill enough to craft a familiar, but you lack the strength to summon an authentic demon. Yet though you have no such entity at hand, you offer up pain to them nonetheless. But even that failed to distinguish yourselves among other such groups, so despite my being shackled by the Church as I am, you wish to install me as your figurehead. Is that about the gist of it?" "Goodness, it's like you know us already." "'Tis the desire of most who come seeking an audience with me and asking for my cooperation—but very well. First, I must confirm something. Bring me to this meeting place of yours, and I shall see for myself if you've prepared a throne befitting the Torture Princess." "Y-you're serious? You'll become our sponsor—our figurehead?" "Enough blathering. 'Tis rude to make a lady repeat herself." Elisabeth gently raised her fair hand, and the man extended his in kind. His fingers were trembling—perhaps in fear, and perhaps in delight. Ignoring how ridiculous he looked, Elisabeth elegantly took his hand in hers. Then out of the blue, she yanked him toward her, bringing her lips to his ear and letting out a sultry whisper. "If I deem you worthy, then I shall take your dull destinies and forever alter them." Her words were as sweet as honey and as piercing as venom. The man jolted. Then, fearing she might change her mind, he hurried over to the carriage with her hand still in his. The driver dutifully opened the door. Elisabeth boarded with a gallant leap, then majestically plopped down on the leather seat within. The man excitedly sat down beside her. Without sparing him a glance, Elisabeth crossed her legs. All the while, the catlike smile on her face never faded. With a crack of the whip, the horses set off, and the carriage began moving. The moment it did, though, its frame rocked in a peculiar manner. The driver tilted his head to the side a little. However, the irregularity didn't persist, so it must have just hit a rock or something. The carriage continued on. The dawn was yet unbroken. Under the cover of night, Elisabeth and the others quickly made their way through the forest. The sound of water dripping echoed out. Cramped earthen walls were faintly visible in the small area illuminated around them. The driver at the front of their group was holding a lantern, and each time it shook, the ground faintly shone. It was wet with pooled water, and the flame's light reflecting off the water's surface made it look like the land was burning. Elisabeth and the others trampled that golden flame underfoot as they advanced down the corridor. After passing through the village that had been destroyed by the Knight, the group had reached a dilapidated house, then passed through it and gone underground. The building, as Elisabeth discovered, had originally been built as a noble's suburban villa. Its owner was a devout member of the Church, and the villa's main building was connected to an attached chapel. And hidden beneath that chapel's altar was a staircase leading underground. It appeared to be set up that way so people could move between the main building and the annex in case some sort of emergency happened. However, it was unclear how devout someone could really claim to be if they went out of their way to build an altar with a secret passageway beneath. Elisabeth had frowned, and the man, sensing her doubts, had answered them. "The manor's owner, fool that he was, was a devout believer like his father and grandfather before him. However, his son rebelled against their pious lifestyle and gave himself to a life of debauchery. When the debts he'd incurred began coming due, he scraped together the last of his money to build this as an escape route to flee from his debtors. Not that it did him much good, mind you; they caught up with him in no time. Later, when the debtors started selling off his assets, I discovered the manor's secret and ended up purchasing it. I left the building mostly as is, but I completely renovated the hidden chamber. I think you'll like what I've done with it." After he explained the situation, they set off down the dark underground tunnel. The passageway seemed straight enough, but even so, there was no end in sight. Elisabeth sighed for the umpteenth time. "We've still yet to reach it? This hidden chamber or whatnot

of yours." "I really do apologize for the poor walking conditions. We're almost there, so I hope you'll put up with it for just a bit longer." Sure enough, the man soon stopped. The driver raised his lantern up high, illuminating the oddly fleshy nude etching of the Saint in the door beside them. The original composition was a well-known religious painting, but it had been exaggerated in a way that was somehow both sexual and comedic. The man cleared his throat, concerned that Elisabeth might find it offensive. It would seem that he realized that it was in poor taste. However, Elisabeth didn't much care one way or the other. She offered no reaction. Clearly relieved, the man knocked on the door. A muffled voice came from the other side. "Who do we extol?" "Those who sup on the pain of man." "And what do we seek?" "An abyss of greed and avarice." It was a needlessly theatrical exchange, and a pointless one to boot. If the paladins found out about them, they wouldn't have time to ask for a passcode before the paladins just smashed the door in. Elisabeth gently squeezed the bridge of her nose. The door opened from within, and the driver bowed and stepped back. Apparently, he wasn't coming with them. Elisabeth and the man strode forward. It had been dead silent in the tunnel, but inside, they were greeted by a loud clamor. There were many voices that Elisabeth could make out, but one of them in particular was especially disquieting. Someone was letting out a low moan. When she heard it— —the Torture Princess slowly looked up. The room within was surprisingly spacious. When the man said he'd remodeled it, he clearly hadn't been lying. There was a fancy chandelier hanging from its ceiling and an ominously patterned carpet had been placed atop its tiled floor. A square section in the middle of the carpet had been cut out, and a stone pedestal sat atop the bare floor that was displayed. There was no other furniture to speak of. For the room's purposes, that pedestal alone was sufficient. A gathering of people wearing the same black clothes and gaudy masks as the man sat around the pedestal. It resembled a sort of bizarre masquerade ball. However, the mood in the room was oddly manic. The group looked up in unison. It reminded Elisabeth of a flock of crows—a group that gathered around carrion and feasted on their rotting carcasses. With no way to tell how she envisioned them, though, the group clad in black let out cries of joy and delight. "Can it be? The Torture Princess herself, in our midst?! At long last, our prayers are answered!" "Ah, such beauty! Why, her looks put even the rumors to shame!" "...I can't believe that coward actually followed through. I need to go introduce myself at once." The whispers that filled the air were filled with childishly frank admiration. Elisabeth paid them no heed, nor did she return any of their passionate, almost loving gazes. No, her crimson eyes were fixed solely on the pedestal. A young girl was crucified atop it. She had yet to reach maturity, like a sapling that had just begun to sprout. Perhaps they had bought her, or perhaps they'd taken her from some small rural village after sweet-talking her parents. Either way, her abdomen looked like it had been pecked apart by crows. Her flesh was dark crimson, raw, and filthy. To wit, her stomach had been sliced open. Inside the cut, her innards had been ever so carefully mixed up, and every one of her organs was missing little bits and pieces from it. Elisabeth shifted her gaze over to the figures clad in black. Each of them was holding a set of cutlery in their hands. The forks and knives in question were all wet with blood, and the silver plates in front of them were adorned with fresh chunks of meat. Livers and eyeballs reflected back the room's light. And the dinner sets were each replete with a cup full of freshly drawn blood. Even as she was being eaten, the girl yet drew breath. While the group in black continued in their innocent excitement, the girl moved ever so slightly. She returned Elisabeth's gaze. A single tear rolled out of her sole remaining eye. Her tongue was gone, as were her teeth. She still had lips, though, and they mouthed a silent plea. Kill me. Not save me. Elisabeth snapped her fingers. A heavy thump echoed out as an iron stake pierced the girl's heart clean through. Then a moment later, blood sprayed up from her chest and dyed the chandelier bright red. The girl who'd been eaten alive was dead. The room went silent. Nobody had expected that from the Torture Princess in the slightest. Eventually, though, one of the people—probably a noble—spoke up. "W-was there something wrong with the sacrifice?" "Oh, shut up. I have one question for you lot, and one question alone." The group straightened their backs in alarm at the Torture Princess's words. Elisabeth smiled bewitchingly to set them at ease. They let out deep sighs, captivated by her beguiling expression. Elisabeth raised her fair arm and pointed at the dead girl. "Any among you who did not partake in the banquet, raise your hand now." A troubled murmur ran through the air. However, most of the group proudly shook their heads no. That said, there was one sole exception. Unable to withstand the others' animosity, one younger man raised his hand. One of the others must have forced him to come along with them. Even before he raised his hand, his face was pale as a sheet. He also had no cutlery or plate, so it would appear that his declaration was true. "I see, I see. Right, then." Elisabeth lowered her hand. Everyone looked at her expectantly. In contrast with the rest of the crowd's excitement, though, the young man let out a pathetic little scream. None of them had any doubt that his failure to participate in the sacrificial rite had angered the Torture Princess. She was going to brutally kill him. Everyone there trembled in unconcealed anticipation. Elisabeth gave the young man her finest smile. Then she snapped her fingers. "...Huh?" A dumbfounded voice sounded out from behind her. It was the man who guided her there. He blinked several times. His head had toppled off his neck, and he was holding it in his hands. Even separated from his torso, the man's head continued to blink. His eyes turned upward and looked at his neck as blood began spurting forth from it. He gawked at it in shock. Then his lips went slack, and his body collapsed onto the floor while still holding his head. His feet flopped back and forth like fish out of water. All the while, his blood spread farther and farther across the carpet, seeping into it and dying it crimson. After a slight delay, the screams started. The room descended into a panic. Elisabeth, the only calm person present, simply shrugged. "'Just like the Torture Princess,' eh? You have nerve, I'll give you that... But know this—you were under a grave misapprehension. I have no patience for those who would use me for their own ends or make me their lapdog. 'Tis an insult of the highest order, and I've slain all who tried heretofore. I must admit, though, this banquet you've thrown truly is not unlike my own. I may be unto a demon, but you lot are no different. Very well! I recognize you, then, as having deviated from humanity's path!" Elisabeth spread her arms wide in a haughty, magnanimous gesture. This time, the smile on her blood-drenched face was of a wholly different nature than it had been before. When she made her sonorous declaration, her expression was downright villainous. "And as such, this is a task well befitting the Torture Princess! For killing those who are unto demons is a task that belongs to those just as wretched!" Sometimes, the only thing that could kill evil was a different brand of evil. That was one of the world's many truths. After all, those who sang the praises of righteousness would never have been able to find this underground banquet. To be invited here, one would have to be the kind of evil that other evildoers looked up to. And only someone evil would be able to tell just how wicked the banquet truly was. For Elisabeth could tell—mercy would be wasted on their kind, and they were unfit to receive even the faintest of amnesties. She could tell that the girl before her wasn't the first one they'd eaten alive. No, the victims whose blood stained those walls numbered in the hundreds. This was a place that was well worth being called a demon's banquet hall. And as such, there was but one act for the Torture Princess to take. "Duke of Exeter's Daughter!" Elisabeth's voice echoed out loud and clear, and a torrent of darkness and flower petals whirled up in response. A storm of black and crimson swept violently through the room. Then it vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. In its place stood an adorable young girl. The guests all shrank back and cowered in fear. Several of them let out confused yelps. The girl gave them an elegant bow. Her flaxen hair rustled, setting off her amber eyes. She was wearing an understated dark-green dress, and it was adorned with a white lace collar and a porcelain brooch. At a glance, she looked like an ordinary young girl. What was strange, though, was that there were four of her. Their faces were the same down to the smallest detail. One might think they were quadruplets, but that wasn't right, either. Even that wouldn't account for how unnaturally identical they were. It was like something straight out of a nightmare. To drive home that point, the arms extending from their sleeves clearly weren't those of a human. Their fingers were made of metal and were the perfect size for binding a person's limbs. It was like someone had taken a sheltered young maiden and replaced part of her flesh with restraints. The girls gracefully made their way over to the pedestal. Then they used their restraints to grab the stake stuck in the human sacrifice. """"Heave-ho!"""" As they called out in unison, they wrenched the stake free. They then rolled the corpse onto the floor, blood spurting all over them in the process. Entrails got spread everywhere, ruining the expensive-looking carpet. Once they were done, the four of them stood in an elegant little line. Elisabeth let out a whisper in a voice like honeyed venom. "Judgment is handed down, and I am she who hands it. Behold, as I take your dull destinies and forever alter them." *** A violent scream sounded out. A horrible, graphic noise filled the air, and it was soon followed by a desperate moan. The victim's body was torn in half at the waist, and organs and guts spilled from the fleshy tear. Several other such corpses were already piled atop the floor. Even though the air was thick with the stench of blood, the girls' smiles hadn't faded in the slightest. And why would they? Duke of Exeter's Daughter was a torture rack given flesh. Never once had they felt qualms or revulsion at the prospect of stretching people out. The girls tossed the new corpse aside, then set off and walked in formation by the group of people cowering stock-still by the wall. Finally, they stopped before one portly man in particular. "You." The man had been holding his breath, afraid that he'd get picked if he so much as moved. His eyes went wide when he discovered that his efforts had been in vain. He swallowed, then let out a throat-shattering scream.

The girls quickly reached out before he could make a break for it, binding his limbs with their metal restraints. Then they hoisted him up like a pig on a spit and began carrying him in cordial unison. """"Heave-ho. Heave-ho. Heave-ho. Heave-ho. Heave-ho."""" "Please, no, no, stop, I'll do anything, no, aaaaaaaagh!" The girls plopped the fat man down on the stone pedestal like it was a cutting board. Then they began pulling on his limbs. His joints began breaking and dislocating. His skin tore, and his flesh started to stretch and snap apart. His voice was hoarse by then, but he continued screaming all the same. However, the girls just kept on smiling. They launched into a happy song. """"Father asks a question, aren't you glad? Have you been good, or have you been bad? If you've been bad, then it's stretching time, until you decide to confess your crimes! You can scream and say no, no, no, but even if you do, we won't let you go!"""" "Stop, stop, please, Elisabeth, ELISABEEEEEEEEETH!" "Oh, don't go squealing like a pig. Surely you people should know from your own experience, but it normally takes far longer for a torture victim to die. Though I can't exactly keep your compatriots waiting, so today, you get the abridged version. 'Tis little reason to weep and moan, no? If anything, you should be grateful for how merciful I'm being." Elisabeth scoffed. The man started foaming at the mouth, unable to even scream anymore. His eyeballs swelled up, and urine began dripping from his nether region. Then came a squelching noise, and the man's innards began gushing out. Once little more than sinew and intestines were left connecting the two halves of the body together, the girls stopped pulling. They tossed it aside, as though they'd grown bored of it. Then they turned around. Their hair rustled as they blinked their eight innocent eyes. There were barely any survivors left, but the few remaining ones stayed paralyzed in fear by the wall. The girls strode forth once more. One of them began pointing her dainty finger from person to person. "Are you next? Are you next? Are you next? You're next!" "Forgive us! Please, Torture Princess, have mercy!" The woman's thick, black-painted lips quivered as she rushed toward Elisabeth. She knelt, knees trembling, and held her hands together as if in prayer. Tears streamed from her eyes as she made her desperate supplication. "Is our sin truly worthy of such punishment? Surely, you realize how twisted the Church is, don't you? But if so...then why?! Why subject us to such cruel judgment?!" "Oh, I'm well aware of how perverse the Church is. Any group that employs inquisitors, lets extremists run rampant in their ranks, and retains saints the way Church does is liable to bring about disaster hitherto unseen. But I ask this of you." Elisabeth reached out a slender finger and propped the woman's chin up. Then she curled her crimson lips as she offered her a sweet whisper. "What in the world does that have to do with your banquet?" "Th-that's... We needed to demonstrate our rebellion against the Church, to venerate demons..." "No, no. There's no need to be shy. Come now, say it with pride. 'Twas fun, wasn't it? I should know. The pain of others is a delight beyond compare, and their screams are like the finest of symphonies. You supped your fill of those luxuries, did you not? But now the bill for your feast has come due. Dissatisfaction with some other group hardly begins to justify your grim indulgences." Elisabeth swung her foot and kicked the silver plate the woman had used. It went flying, as did the sticky chunks of meat atop it. Her plate had been piled notably higher than the others. The woman let out a pained squeak. As the woman's teeth began chattering, Elisabeth lovingly stroked her chin. "As long as the Church opposes the demons and works to maintain order in the world, I shall willingly serve as their lapdog. And once my task is finished, I shall pay my bill in kind and give myself to the flames. Such is the fate I've chosen. And, ah, what a fitting end it shall be." "B-but...why? Why subject yourself to that humiliation? Your power is beyond that of even the demons... You could just summon a new demon, make a contract, and break the Church's shackles, couldn't you? Why just resign yourself to dying a cow's death?!" "Then I shall ask you the reverse. Why should I have to do any of that?" "Huh?" The Torture Princess's question rang with honest curiosity. It was enough to make the woman forget the peril she was in for a moment. A dumbfounded silence descended on them. The smell of blood wafted through the air as Elisabeth quietly gazed down at the woman. Then with an expression that seemed almost reminiscent of the Saint's, Elisabeth dispassionately went on. "Despots are killed, tyrants are hung, and slaughterers are slaughtered. Such is the way of the world. The demise of torturers should be garnished with their own screams as they sink to Hell with no chance for salvation. Only at such a time is a torturer's life truly complete. So why balk at it? Were you people ignorant of even that basic truth?" Elisabeth looked downward as though in newfound comprehension. Her black hair cascaded in front of her, concealing her expression. Yet even in spite of that, the woman could tell—the Torture Princess was furious. Scathing malice danced on Elisabeth's tongue as she spoke once more. "Ah, I see. I see... So you indulged in the flesh of the innocent, not even knowing that." The Torture Princess looked up. Elisabeth curled her lips into a fierce smile. All of a sudden, the woman felt a heavy tap on her shoulder. She nervously turned to look. There, she was greeted by four identical smiles. She screamed, but the girls captured her without missing a beat. And with that, Duke of Exeter's Daughter dragged her off, kicking aside corpses as they sang their merry song. """"Father asks a question, aren't you glad? Have you been good, or have you been bad? If you've been bad, then it's stretching time, until you decide to confess your crimes! You can scream and say no, no, no, but even if you do, we won't let you go!"""" "No, no, nooooo! Please, Torture Princess, have mercy, I beg of you! I... No. No, I'll never apologize! Curse you, dammit! I curse you to death, you shameless sow! You're no different from me! Nobody will save you! Not God, not Diablo, not anyoooooooone!" "Aye, indeed! None shall save me! God and Diablo have abandoned me, as has all creation! And so be it! So be it. Go on, you fool, curse me to your dying breath!" "Go to hell, go to hell, GO TO HELL, ELISABEEEEEAAAAAARGH!" Midway through, the shrill shout transformed into a muddled scream. The woman's torso was beginning to tear. Her back audibly creaked through her tight corset. Her tongue flopped out of her mouth, and blood and drool spilled out along with it. It was only then that her chest finally burst. Elisabeth didn't flinch at the spray of blood or guts, just as she hadn't at the woman's hatred. The girls let go of the body, and it collapsed with a splat atop the veritable mountain of corpses. No more desperate pleas were forthcoming. The executions continued on dispassionately. Eventually, Elisabeth calmly surveyed her surroundings. The room was empty of movement. The banquet was over. Or so she thought. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Suddenly, an absurd cry sounded out, and someone dashed off like an arrow from the corner of the room. Elisabeth, thinking she'd missed someone, made to snap her fingers again. The moment before she did, though, she stopped in her tracks. "...You?" It was a young man, his fists clenched and his face as pale as a sheet. He ran deeper into the room, some sort of resolve evident on his face. He reached out, grabbed the ornamental ax hanging from the wall, and turned its massive blade toward Elisabeth. Elisabeth quietly returned his gaze. It was the one person she had planned to leave alive. The sole man who hadn't participated in the banquet. Impulsive bravery burned bright in his eyes. It was plain as day what he had resolved himself to do. Elisabeth shrugged in exasperation. "What's this now? You fancy yourself a hero or something? You never took part in the banquet to begin with, so it's not as though I've any intention of killing you." "Shut up! You...you're no different than they were! How could you do something like this?!" Spit flew from the youth's mouth as he shouted. The pair of atrocities he'd just borne witness to had stretched his spirit to the breaking point. Now, powerless as he was, he was choosing to fight. However, Elisabeth only shook her head. "A question, then. Where was this foolhardy bravery of yours to be found when the girl was still alive?" *** The boy squeezed the ax so tightly that it made the bones in his fingers press up against his skin. Elisabeth sighed, then looked around at the ghastly scene surrounding them. Having finished her task, Duke of Exeter's Daughter was standing in a neat little line. Elisabeth turned her gaze back away from her, then spoke. "Why, if it's the brutality you object to, you could have even made this stand of yours back when they were alive. So why now? What will this baying of yours accomplish? Whose pain will it heal? At this late hour, how—?" "Be quiet! Shut up already, you monster! Yeah, you're right. I regret it. I regret it, okay! This is what I should have done the moment I stepped into this damn room! I don't know how long it'll take me to atone for not doing so, but I'll do whatever I have to!" "I see. Well, I know not the scale of your resolve, but if it's resolve you have, then I shan't say any more." "But here and now, what I need to do is kill you! How am I supposed to move forward if I let a monster like you live?!" Tears welled up in the youth's eyes as he shouted. Elisabeth nodded her understanding. When a person met a monster— —even if it posed no threat to them personally, it was still their duty to kill it. Such was the fate of people and monsters. The young man raised his ax high and charged at the Torture Princess. However, his movements were so slow, it was almost sad. One snap of her fingers was all it would have taken for Elisabeth to end things. However, she didn't move a muscle. She merely returned the youth's gaze. That, too, is one of this world's many truths. Sometimes, the only thing that could kill evil was a different brand of evil— —but in the end, only good could break that cycle of malice. Elisabeth Le Fanu stood motionless. The executioner's ax drew ever closer. Then it happened. "That's right. If this was the only thing you saw of her, then that would be a perfectly reasonable conclusion to draw. After all, it is an undeniable truth." "...Huh?" A dignified voice cut through the air. A slender figure made its descent and swooped down in front of Elisabeth. Then a maid made a gentle landing. Her outfit looked wholly out of place, but the emerald eyes beneath her silver hair were as serious as could be. "...However, I refuse to let you call her a monster." "Hina?" Elisabeth spoke the woman's name aloud. The maid, Hina, swung her halberd. The young man's ax head was cut clean from the handle. Its blade went spinning through the air, eventually planting itself in corpses' torsos. As the

youth tripped over his feet, Hina, still holding her halberd, dropped her voice an octave. "Never again utter such rudeness to my dearest Lady Elisabeth." "Wha...? I don't—" "And heeere I goooo! Hachaaaaaah!" The young man started to let out a bewildered yelp, but he was cut off by a loud, cheerful cry. At some point, the doorway had gotten thrown wide-open, and something large and heavy came hurtling through it. It was a massive piece of bone-in meat. After spinning through the air, it struck the young man square in the forehead. It made for a bizarre sight, but it was apparently effective nonetheless. The youth keeled over backward, then went still. It looked like it had given him a concussion. Elisabeth blinked in confusion. It wasn't a dream. It was reality. And there were two people she was well acquainted with standing behind her. Specifically, Hina and the Butcher. "Now hold on a minute... What are you two doing here?" "One thing led to another, you see!" "And we ended up tailing you!" With the grisly room to their backs, the two of them proudly puffed out their chests. "One thing led to another," eh? Elisabeth scratched her cheek. The fact of the matter was, considering how slow he was moving, she still could have returned the young man's attack with time to spare. She had never been in any real danger. Yet somehow or other... ...she felt as though she'd been saved nonetheless. The carriage rattled along the dark night road. The driver who'd been manning the reins on their way there had already fled, so the Butcher was filling in for him. "Why, I could do that with my eyes closed!" he'd claimed. And sure enough, he was handling the carriage more deftly than even the driver had. There are mysteries about when it comes to that man. Is there anything he can't do? As Elisabeth pondered that question, she stole a glance at Hina, who was sitting beside her. Hina said nothing, a silence that Elisabeth mirrored. However, their expressions were like polar opposites of each other. Hina was smiling happily, but Elisabeth was frowning in discontent. Eventually, Elisabeth looked back away from her seatmate and quietly spoke. "...You've no objections, Hina?" "About what, might I ask?" "You saw the atrocities I committed back in that room. You ordered the man not to call me a monster, but...your master is Kaito, not I. There's no need for you to flatter me. I appreciate your diligent service, don't get me wrong, but you needn't pretend to hold me in such regard." "I'm sorry, Lady Elisabeth, but please don't misunderstand me." Hina's voice rang out dignified and resolute. Elisabeth turned back toward her so fast, it was like she'd been slapped in the face. Hina was staring straight at her. Even in the dim, her emerald eyes shone like jewels. She softly opened her mouth, then spoke with a gentle calmness. "I might not have a sense of morals the way humans do, but I am aware of how your past deeds and cruel nature have drawn hatred and criticism from many. I can't refute what they say...but at the same time, it's my right to choose who I want to protect, and who I want to hold dear." My heart is mine and mine alone. Not even my beloved master can deny me that. That was what Hina was saying. Elisabeth had no answer for that. Instead, she just stared off into space. Eventually, she curiously posed a question. "...How utterly puzzling. What about me do you find so worthy of your admiration?" "Hmhm, there are oh-so-many things... But the specifics are a secret. That's something you'll have to figure out for yourself someday, Lady Elisabeth. It wouldn't mean anything if I just told you." Hina playfully raised a finger in front of her lips. Yet again, Elisabeth had no answer for that. It seemed wrong for the Torture Princess to affirm herself in that way after committing such a massacre. Beside her, her automaton companion kept on smiling. It was the expression of someone who knew their own heart inside and out. As the Butcher let out a strange "Heigh-ho!" cheer from up in the driver's seat, Elisabeth let out a low murmur. "You're a strict one, aren't you?" "Oh yes! I may dote on Master Kaito, but even I know when it's time for some tough love!" Hina puffed up her chest with pride. Elisabeth shook her head in defeat. The tension drained from her face, and a smile spread across it—the first genuine smile she'd worn that day. She nodded. "You know, in the interest of avoiding a large hassle, what say we—?" "Keep this all a secret from Master Kaito? Oh, of course." They exchanged a glance, and with that, their girls' promise was official. A moment later, they both broke out into laughter. Another strange "Heigh-ho!" echoed through the air as the carriage rattled beneath the dawn sky. And back at the castle, a certain dim-witted, softhearted boy was still fast asleep. A Message from Someone (4) To begin with, though— —what does it really mean to go mad? Whenever I start pondering that question, I immediately feel my sanity begin to slip away. Big deal, you might think, coming from a self-proclaimed lunatic. And you'd be completely right to do so. But it's the truth, so I'm afraid there isn't much I can do about it. Honestly, though, I'm really not sure. When was it, I wonder, that I went completely mad? Was it when I chose this world's appointed time? When I sowed the seeds of evil throughout it? When I made an attendant who would serve me and me alone? Was it when I brought about the worst possible result, one that could never be undone? Was it when I decided to take responsibility for the deed I'd committed? Or was it, perhaps, long, long ago— —when I made up my mind to perform that summoning? When I decided that I wanted to save the world? If so, though, wouldn't that mean that there has been something messed up about me all along? That there is something wrong with me as a person? That it was a mistake for me to ever have been born? Surely, that's too harsh. It's not as though a baby can bear sin. Would the mistake lie with the very world that created such a person, then? No, no, I'm getting this all wrong. Blame and criticism, I can take. They're far more pleasant than the blind faith and respect I was subjected to before, after all. But at the same time, I can feel it keenly. Is there anyone in this world who has the right to condemn me? Who? Who has that right? Certainly not you all. You don't know anything. Not a single, solitary thing. I'm not the Saint. I'm not the Suffering Woman. I'm not someone worthy of respect. I'm just a person. Just another lunatic. Yet— Yet even so— —I've been alone all this time. Elisabeth's Daily Routine (Back Side) Ever since the moment she was first turned on— —Hina the automaton had been Kaito Sena's eternal lover. In his sickness and in his health, she was his soldier, his love outlet, his sex doll, and most importantly, his faithful companion and maid. Constant caring and devotion were Hina's trademarks. However, even she had a secret that she couldn't share with her lover. Specifically, it was about the "brief little indulgence" she enjoyed before getting to work on breakfast. Each morning, Hina would go to Kaito's room and press herself against his door. Kaito's traumatic past life left him frequently plagued with nightmares, so Hina wanted to make sure she could "accidentally" wake him up whenever he started moaning in his sleep. If his rest was peaceful, though, then that was when the fun really started. After all, Hina's secret hobby was listening to Kaito breathe as he slept. Each and every day, she would devote the considerable full force of her automaton hearing capabilities toward that one task. Then as she listened to him, she would trace idle little circles in the air with her fingers. "Pant, pant... Oh, Master Kaito... You're sleeping so soundly, so defenselessly today. It's ever so adorable! Why, it hardly seems fair for one person to be so cool and so lovable! Yet nobody in the whole wide world is your better in either regard! Oh, I fall harder for you each day! ...Eep, you just said 'mmm'! How erotic! Oh, if only my most fervent wish could come true, and I could wake you up each morning with a passionate smooch!" "H-hmm... It feels as though it might be dangerous to call out to her right now, doesn't it? Ah, but nothing ventured, nothing gained! Now here I go! Ahem... Ms. Lovely Maid?" "Eep! Wh-who goes there?! Who's eavesdropping on me?!" Hina leaped up with a start and wasted no time in assuming a combat pose. She normally preferred to fight with a halberd, but she was still a force to be reckoned with even when unarmed. She could snap a bear's neck with her bare hands, and a single one of her kicks could knock a man's head clean off. And the other party was well aware of that fact. He quickly raised his hands in a show of surrender. "I come in peace! It's me—the one who everyone loves, the one who's always by your side when you need him most! Your humble Butcher!" "...Oh, Mr. Butcher?" "Me, friend!" "Ah, my apologies... You won't tell Master Kaito about any of what you just heard, will you, Mr. Butcher? I'm sure I can count on your discretion. And on that note, welcome to Lady Elisabeth's castle! What brings you here today?" "Oh goodness. I feel as though if you trusted me any less, my head and torso would be sharing a tearful farewell right now..." He shivered, and atop his shoulder, the large round sack he was carrying, which was covered in X-shaped patches, shook in turn. The Butcher was a demi-human merchant who often frequented Elisabeth's castle. The tattered black cloak he wore covered everything but his scaly hands and feet, adding to his already considerable air of mystery. When Hina saw him tremble like a scared puppy, she hurriedly moved to comfort him. "Oh no, there's no need to be afraid! Worry not—as long as you don't become an enemy of my beloved Master Kaito, I would never dream of attacking you!" "For words intended to set my heart at ease, they still have a decidedly frightening ring to them... Ah, but I have a task that needs doing, so I had better pull myself together, hadn't I? I apologize for showing up at such an early hour, but the thing is, I believe I left something here." "Oh my! What is it?" "One of my pieces of meat on the bone." Suddenly, a cry of "Again?! How do you keep forgetting those?!" echoed out from Kaito's room. However, it didn't sound like he was actually awake. What a dedicated straight man he was. Meanwhile, Hina gently tilted her head to the side. "Oh, goodness me... I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news. When Lady Elisabeth was drinking and making merry last night, I believe she grilled it and ate it." "I'm too late already?! Rgh... How transient and fleeting the life of meat is..." "Hmm. Come to think of it, though, while I'm certain she got something out of the ice-spirit fridge, it might have actually been something else. Here's an idea—it's a little earlier than usual, but I was just about to head to the kitchen to prepare Lady Elisabeth's morning tea. Would you like to come with me and check?" "Ah, you're too gracious! A thousand thanks!" Without Hina accompanying him, he couldn't enter the

kitchen. It was physically possible, to be sure, but the prospect of Elisabeth finding out was a terrifying one indeed. The Butcher leaped up and down in joy at this fortuitous outcome. Hina smiled genially. Early as it was, her daily indulgence was complete, and she set off. Together, the two of them headed for the kitchen. It was a decision that neither of them put a great deal of thought into. There was one step remaining on Hina's morning itinerary. Namely, preparing Elisabeth's morning tea. Each day, she would take the ambient temperature and humidity into account to mix the perfect ingredients for a cup of tea that would hit the spot just right. The thing was, there wasn't much else she could do for her masters in the morning. Elisabeth's dress was constructed out of magic, so she never needed assistance getting dressed, and Kaito had firmly turned down Hina's offers to help him out with his morning routine or bring him any sort of beverage. As such, she poured all her efforts into Elisabeth's tea. This morning, as always, her maid's spirit fired up as she mixed the tea leaves. The weather was slated to be chilly, and while it wasn't supposed to rain, it was definitely going to be overcast. "In that case, the situation calls for a tea that can warm up body and mind alike to start the day off right!" With her mission decided, Hina opened up the white cupboard before her. Inside, there was a large selection of cube-shaped boxes. She popped off a few of their lids, then scooped out some leaves with a silver spoon, blending together, in perfect, exquisite ratios, types that warmed up the body with varieties that had refreshing flavors. Then she added some dried red flower petals and bitter orange seeds. That way, the tea would come out in a nice transparent shade of vermilion and would have a sweet aroma to pick up one's spirits. After successfully finishing the mixing process, Hina turned to move on to the next step. Then she blinked. The Butcher was standing in front of the ice-spirit fridge, visibly at a loss. Hina hurried over to him. "What's the matter, Mr. Butcher?" "All the meat on the bone I intentionally delivered is still here. In other words, the one that Madam Elisabeth ate last night must have been the one I forgot! Ohhhh, what a cruel turn of fate." "Oh no, I'm so sorry. But knowing Lady Elisabeth, I'm sure she at least enjoyed it more than anyone else in the whole world would have!" "Well, well, well, I suppose that is a silver lining... Being enjoyed is the greatest joy that meat can have, after all." "It really is, isn't it? Come on now, please, don't look so down! Here, why don't I prepare you a light snack? First, though, I should check the weather just in case so I can... Hmm?" The stonework kitchen was cramped and claustrophobic, but it did at least have a window for ventilation. When Hina rushed over to it, she squinted, her artificial skeleton creaking as she pressed her head against the gaps in the window's iron grille. By craning her neck, she could just make out the area around the castle's front entrance—and, more importantly, the person leaving the castle through it. Thanks to her preeminent vision, Hina could recognize the figure's silky black hair even in the dead of night. "...Lady Elisabeth? Shouldn't you still be asleep?" "Hmhm, ah, such beauty recognizable even from behind! That's Madam Elisabeth, sure as a dragon has wings!" All of a sudden, the Butcher's head popped up beside Hina's. However, he was too short for that to make sense. The secret, as it turned out, was that he was standing atop his sack, and what's more, he was perched precariously on his tiptoes. Totally unfazed by his sudden appearance, Hina asked him a question. "Oh, Mr. Butcher, you can see her, too?" "Heh-heh-heh. To tell you the truth, I'm made of sterner stuff than the average demi-human! There's a reason I've lived as long as I have, I'll have you know!" He puffed up his chest with pride. However, doing so caused him to lose his balance. He wobbled back and forth for a moment, then puffed up his chest again. Hina gave him an impressed round of applause. This time, there was no straight man to be found. Meanwhile, as the two of them shared their friendly little chat, Elisabeth kept on walking. Soon, she vanished into the tree line. Hina tilted her head to the side. How very odd. Where could Elisabeth be going at such an early hour? Hina crossed her arms. The Butcher did likewise. Then they stepped away from the window in unison and turned to look at each other. "You know, Mr. Butcher, this is just my intuition speaking, but..." "...it feels as though there's something afoot, doesn't it?" The two of them both nodded. And with that, the curtain rose on their small little grand adventure. The two of them were both the type to act first and think things through later. After making their decision, both Hina and the Butcher got to work without wasting a moment. Hina grabbed her magic leather bag on the off chance they'd need it, and the two of them rushed outside all helter-skelter and made their way into the forest after Elisabeth. Luckily for them, they were able to hide in the tall underbrush without anyone spotting them. As Hina carefully carried the hem of her maid uniform to avoid getting it dirty, she looked to her side. Standing there, she saw a big green blob. At some point, the Butcher had taken some leaves and grass and affixed them all over his cloak. "That looks very professional." "Hmhmhm, at long last, the time has come for me to leverage the skills I've developed in the long battles to establish this world's distribution channels! Behold—Field-Mode Butcher!" The Butcher replied to Hina's compliment in a tone dripping with confidence. All the way back at the castle, Kaito's unconscious straight-man retort of "What the hell does that even mean?!" echoed through the halls. Sadly, though, there was no one there to hear it. Down in the dark forest, however, a voice overcome with emotion was heard by just about everyone. "It's a wondrous honor to be graced with your radiant presence, O beautiful Torture Princess. O ravishing Elisabeth Le Fanu!" A group of birds took off at the sudden noise, cawing loudly as they flew away. Hina and the Butcher quickly pulled their heads back, then looked out again. The speaker quivered passionately and spread his arms wide. As he did, Elisabeth's mood grew visibly more sullen. This clearly wasn't someone she was excited to be meeting. ""Hmm,"" Hina and the Butcher murmured. They turned their gazes to the other party. It was a middle-aged man wearing a high-quality black cloak, with a bowler hat perched atop his head. An ornate mask gleamed on his face, no doubt to capture the attention of any who looked at it and get them to forget the rest of his appearance. However, his voice was obnoxiously shrill. If Hina used her Self-Recording Device, identifying him would be trivial. "...Mr. Butcher, I fear this is terribly rude of me to say, but I get this strange feeling that he's kind of an idiot." "Worry not, Ms. Lovely Maid. That there is an authentic Grade A idiot." The two of them nodded quietly as they completed their blunt evaluation of the man's nature. Then Elisabeth spoke. "You wake a person at this ungodly hour, then have the nerve to say I'm 'gracing you with my presence'? If every word that comes out of your mouth is going to be this insipid, I've half a mind to slice you in two where you stand." "Hyoh-heh, I suppose that's the Torture Princess for you. That pride, that arrogance...how fitting for the one who will guide us and share our path!" "What? No, a rebuttal such as that hardly scratches the surface of the Torture Princess's arrogance. What are you, some wet-behind-the-ears noble? If the Church found out you were saying such things, they wouldn't just stop at seizing your assets, you know. They'd subject you to a full-on inquisition." As though to support their hypothesis, Elisabeth leveled one biting remark at the man after another. Despite having the wind thoroughly drained from his sails, the man valiantly continued talking. After a short back-and-forth, Elisabeth shot him a question. "Then I shall ask you thus—are you a demon worshipper? An organization that stands against the Church? Or perhaps the leader of a religion all your own?" Hina and the Butcher nodded in agreement. It was painfully obvious what the man's affiliation was. Plus, given that an anti-Church organization had sent Elisabeth an invitation, Hina had a pretty good idea what they wanted from her. The Torture Princess was beautiful, powerful, and shouldered peerless sins, all of which made her a perfect symbol. There was no shortage of people in the world who wanted to get their hands on her, and the man clearly numbered among their ranks. "It would seem I don't need to introduce myself, I see... Very well! Then let's talk, you and I. As you surmised, we stand against the coercive brainwashing the Church conducts on the masses, and we hold demons in the highest regard in their stead." "I don't doubt it for a moment. You're as black a lot as they come; that much is clear enough from your garb. You people do love that color, don't you?" Acknowledging her remark, the man launched into a tirade about the Church's inconsistencies. Hina and the Butcher nodded some more. Hina wasn't an expert on the topic by any means, but she was aware of the Church's corruption. Kaito had told her about the deeds of an inquisitor named Clueless, and that aside, Hina had a bone to pick with any organization that proclaimed themselves good and just while forcing the Torture Princess to fight the demons all on her own. In contrast, the Butcher didn't seem to have any specific thoughts on the matter. The darkness beneath his leaf-covered hood was simply black, just the same as always. Then all of a sudden, Elisabeth said something wholly unexpected. "That meat was fresh. Were they yet living when you sliced it off?" "Ah, so you enjoyed our little present!" "...'Present'?" Hina couldn't help but let out a puzzled little murmur. Apparently, the man had given something to Elisabeth. Hina thought back over what they'd just said. "The meat was fresh." "Yet living." "Sliced it off." No matter what it was, it couldn't have been anything wholesome. This time, the Butcher had something to say as well. "Rgh, just because they're alive when you cut it off doesn't mean the meat's necessarily going to be any good, you know. Some meat is better off being aged in a storehouse, and whether or not you drain the blood has a huge impact on the flavor as well." As the Butcher drew from his seemingly bottomless well of expertise, Hina decided to forgo commentary so she could focus on Elisabeth's conversation. The man continued his horrible speech in grand fashion. "Our group holds rituals, which involve human sacrifices, to deepen our bonds and to further blasphemy against God. We take the offering alive and make beautiful artwork out of them. Just like you—just like the Torture Princess!" Hina tried to rise to her feet right then and there, but the Butcher quickly grabbed her by the arm. After pulling her back down, he quietly talked her down as well. "Do settle down, Ms. Lovely Maid. I understand how you feel—I really do! But the man is talking nonsense! Why, he's best ignored altogether! Besides, if you rush out, he might be

able to catch Madam Elisabeth by surprise! Right now, the best thing we can do is wait here and watch them!" Hina gave his calm words of reason a nod. She clenched her fists tight, but she sat back down all the same. Meanwhile, Elisabeth's mood visibly shifted. However, the man didn't notice the change. The Torture Princess gave him a sweet smile. "I see. So you claim to be imitating me, of all things..." Such were Elisabeth's words as she gently guessed at the reason the man wanted the Torture Princess on his side. Then she made him an offer in a voice as intoxicating as poisoned liquor. "First, I must confirm something. Bring me to this meeting place of yours, and I shall see for myself if you've prepared a throne befitting the Torture Princess." "Y-you're serious? You'll become our sponsor—our figurehead?" "Enough blathering. 'Tis rude to make a lady repeat herself." Elisabeth gently raised her fair hand, and the man extended his in kind. His fingers were trembling—perhaps in fear, and perhaps in delight. Elisabeth elegantly took his hand in hers. Then out of the blue, she yanked him toward her. After bringing her lips close to him, she whispered something in his ear. His eyes went wide. Then he hurried off with Elisabeth in tow. The driver opened the carriage door, and the two of them boarded it. Hina and the Butcher were many things, but they were by no means willing to let the opportunity before them slip away. In a flash, the two of them were on their feet. "Our time has come, Ms. Lovely Maid!" "I'll roger that with a big old hurrah!" Then they broke off at a dash in perfect unison. As the carriage began moving, the two of them lined up side by side and leaped on board. They held on to its roof with their hands and managed to skillfully place their feet so they were only just barely protruding. The frame lurched. The pair panicked, worried they'd been found out. Fortunately, though, the horses' strength won out. The driver assumed that the ride had just hit a rock or something, and the carriage continued on through the forest as though nothing had happened. The dawn was yet unbroken. Under the cover of night, the two of them continued their stealthy pursuit. After exiting the forest, the carriage kept going for a good while longer. Eventually, though, it came to a creaky stop. Hina looked up. They were beside a dilapidated manor. However, Elisabeth and the others ignored the main building. Instead, they entered its attached chapel and used the secret staircase beneath its altar to head underground. And Hina and the Butcher followed them. Taking care not to let their footsteps echo or the reflection from their lantern light shine down the tunnel, Hina and the Butcher continued shadowing the other group. As she quietly strode across the pooled groundwater, Hina let out a whisper. "Thank goodness you had a lantern on you, Mr. Butcher. Little holes and bumps would never be enough to trip me up, but it's certainly nice not having to worry about accidentally stepping in mud and having it splash everywhere." "Hmhmhm. It's a wonderful thing, having a lantern and a fire slime in your sack! No gentleman should leave home without them! Why, in two years' time, everyone'll be carrying a pair around! Ha-ha-ha!" The Butcher struck a bizarre pose as he laughed. He seemed oddly confident in his prediction. Either way, his preparedness had allowed them to make good time down the tunnel. Suddenly, though, Hina stopped in her tracks. However, the Butcher obliviously strode on, so Hina had to grab him by the scruff of his cloak. "Mr. Butcher, please wait!" "And a heigh-dee— Hmm? What's... Ah. They stopped, then?" Hina nodded. Around the corner, the other party's light had stopped moving. It would appear that Elisabeth's group had reached their destination. The Butcher set his lantern on the ground and blocked its light with his sack. Then the two of them stuck their heads around the corner to start observing. Elisabeth, the man, and the driver were standing in front of a door. After exchanging some sort of passcode, Elisabeth and the man went inside. The driver stayed behind. He rolled his shoulders, then set off. There was probably some sort of antechamber he was heading to. Hina and the Butcher exchanged a glance. Hina nodded. The Butcher grabbed his sack. Then he took off and shot down the tunnel like an arrow. The driver turned, but it was already too late. With one fluid motion, the Butcher drew his signature weapon from the sack. "Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeers!" His war cry was quiet, but he made up for it in vigor. As the cry echoed down the passageway, his meat on the bone collided with the back of the driver's head. The weapon was blunt, but even so, the force from the blow was enough to make the driver collapse. However, the Butcher swooped down and caught him the moment before he hit the ground. In a pointless display of kindness, he even gently plopped the man's head down on his lap. Hina gave him a small round of applause, to which the Butcher replied with a big thumbs-up. "The man is down!" "That was a very impressive 'cheers,' especially for how quiet it was!" "That's what you're gonna comment on?!" Kaito cried back at the castle. However, there still wasn't anyone around to hear him. Over at the actual site, Hina suddenly looked up. She quickly rushed over to the door. "Now then, our one obstacle is out of the way! Allow me to check on the situation!" Just like she had at Kaito's room, she pressed herself against the door. There was a fleshy, nude etching of the Saint carved on its wooden surface, but Hina paid that fact no heed. She brought her head next to its carved breasts and leveraged the full power of her automaton hearing capabilities. "W-was there something wrong with the sacrifice?" "Oh, shut up. I have one question for you lot, and one question alone." She could hear Elisabeth talking to someone. Her eyes went wide, and she pulled away from the door. When she turned back toward the Butcher, he tilted his head to the side in confusion. "What seems to be the matter, Ms. Lovely Maid?" "The situation is bad! At this rate, things are definitely going to come to blows!" "Oh my! Are they preparing for a fight?" "Lady Elisabeth is pretending not to, but in truth, she actually is! Only someone who knows her as well as I do would be able to tell, but that's her super-mega-ultra-angry tone!" Hina rapidly nodded up and down. And in no time at all, her conjecture was proven true. Screams started echoing out from inside the room. Hina pressed herself back against the door to check what was going on. When she did, she was greeted by a voice dripping with bloodlust and rage. "'Just like the Torture Princess,' eh? You have nerve, I'll give you that... I must admit, though, this banquet you've thrown truly is not unlike my own. I may be unto a demon, but you lot are no different. Very well! I recognize you, then, as having deviated from humanity's path!" Hina narrowed her emerald eyes, and her expression contorted in sadness. Behind her, the Butcher tilted his head in puzzlement and stroked the area that was probably his jaw. "The thing is, Ms. Lovely Maid...it would appear these enemies are demon worshippers. The means Madam Elisabeth has every reason to fight them, and to be honest, I can't imagine there being the slightest chance they'll best her... So even if a battle breaks out, it is what it is. Wouldn't it be fine just to leave her to her devices?" "No! Why, I could never do such a thing!" Hina violently shook her head. She glared at the door. His interest piqued, the Butcher let out a long exhale. His next question had a strange weight to it. "Are those your feelings as an attendant speaking, perhaps?" "That's correct. Right now, I can't leave her alone. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I did." Hina answered without a moment's hesitation. The Butcher gave her a slight nod. Meanwhile, Elisabeth spoke once more. Her voice rang out proud and true. "And as such, this is a task well befitting the Torture Princess! For killing those who are unto demons is a task that belongs to those just as wretched!" Even Hina knew. Sometimes, the only thing that could kill evil was a different brand of evil. That was one of the world's many truths. And yet— —in Hina's opinion, that was far too sad a truth— —and at the same time, far too contradictory. The automaton had some thoughts about the words of man. What exactly was evil that killed evil? The righteous would never have been able to reach that underground banquet. Would people praise someone who had been invited there and gone on a rampage, then? The answer was no. They would attack the person who reached the banquet and point fingers at them, all while singing the praises of righteousness. And the Torture Princess wouldn't even get mad at them. She'd laugh, saying that theirs was a natural reaction. But Hina also knew someone who would get mad at them, who'd rage at them with all his might. It was her beloved master—Kaito Sena. You're looking down on someone who got their hands dirty to slay evil while you got to keep yours clean?! he'd shout. Righteousness is a difficult thing to pin down in this world and in every other. Everything can be right, and anything can be wrong. But... ...believing in your beloved's words was what it meant to love someone. Hina reached into her leather bag, a magic device that had no bottom, and pulled out a halberd longer than she was tall. She aimed its brutal blade at the door and launched a swing to break it open. The Butcher immediately let out a yelp. "No, no, no, no, no, think it through! It's dangerous to smash down the door all of a sudden! Why, you might well hamper Madam Elisabeth's focus! Stand dooown!" "How—very—right—you—are!" Hina nodded. However, she was already far enough in her swing that stopping the halberd was no longer an option. In an unbelievable display of strength, she changed the blade's course and cleaved through empty space. As the handle spun up into the air, Hina righted her stance. Her silver hair rustled as she lowered her head. "I'm very sorry. My composure was lacking. I offer you both my thanks and my apologies." "I must say, for you to be able to restore your posture from that position... You never fail to impress, Ms. Lovely Maid. Now then... It would be nice to find a key that could open this door quietly, or perhaps a different entrance we could use in order to take our enemies and just our enemies by surprise. And both would be even nicer still... Glance." The Butcher looked down at the driver, whose head was still resting on his lap. He rapped him on the cheek. He landed several such strikes before the driver woke up. When the man realized what was going on, his expression froze. It was a reasonable reaction. After all, anyone would react that way upon discovering that their head was in a mysterious, dark figure's lap. The man began to cry Aaaah, a monster! but was stopped; the Butcher spoke in a deep murmur. "Heh-heh-heh. Be quiet, now, and we won't have to hurt you." "Mr. Butcher, that sounds suspicious in a whole different way!" "Ha-ha-ha. You say that, but you're giving off a far more threatening vibe than I am... Now as for you,

do you know of any key that can open the door from the outside, or perhaps of another way to get in?" The driver blinked at the line of questioning. However, his eyes twitched to the side for a moment first. Hina's preeminent automaton powers of observation allowed her to pick up on the change, and the Butcher caught it, too. Both of the things they were looking for existed. However, the driver shook his head no. Apparently, he was planning on courageously keeping his master's secrets. The man's reaction caused the Butcher's expression to change. It was still dark beneath his hood, but Hina could tell. The Butcher was smiling. "Mr.... Mr. Butcher?" "Ah, such loyalty. Feeling responsibilities toward your post, fulfilling your duties as your master commands... It's the mark of a good man, and a mark I can respect. So I take it this means you're prepared to bear your share of the burden of your master's sin?" "...Hmm?" The driver let out a muffled voice through the Butcher's hand. The Butcher responded by slowly lifting his other arm. His claws gleamed as he laid them on the scruff of the driver's neck and spoke in a strangely syrupy voice. "Goodness, for you to so readily share the sin of whatever horrible ritual is going on in there... Hats off to your dedication, good sir." The driver started thrashing about, his eyes wide. He frantically tried to tell them something. However, the Butcher pretended not to notice, instead digging his claws into the man's skin. "Then I suppose I have no choice! I'm a proud Butcher, uninterested in matters that don't concern meat, but out of respect for your loyalty, I shall deliver the coup de grâce myself!" "Agh, gack... No, stop, please!" The driver threw the Butcher's hand off in utter desperation. The Butcher stopped for a moment. Before he could say anything, the driver shouted out the information of his own accord. "Th-the key is in the antechamber! And you can get into the observation balcony from there, too! If there's anything else you want to know, I'll tell you anything! Anything and everything! So please spare me, if no one else!" The driver sobbed as he made his desperate entreaty. Then he even began denouncing his employer. "The banquets are horrible." "Those demons." "They're the worst." "They're like fat pigs, all of them." The Butcher listened in silence to what the driver had to say. Eventually, he smiled once more within the darkness. "I see......... So that was the limit of your resolve as an attendant, then." "...Mr. Butcher?" Hina let out a puzzled little murmur. The Butcher's words were clearly full of all sorts of complicated emotions. But as far as she knew, he himself wasn't anyone's attendant. Hina tilted her head to the side. However, she didn't have time to put that confusion into words. All of a sudden, the Butcher's demeanor did a complete about-face, and he spoke in the same cheery voice as always. "Now then, if you'd be so kind as to lead the way! Tallyho!" The abrupt change appeared to strike even more fear into the driver. He nodded repeatedly, then practically took off at a dash. The Butcher tallyhoed on after him. Hina clenched her halberd tight and hurried on to join him. There was only one destination on her mind. The Torture Princess's—Elisabeth's—side. "The balcony is just past here." The driver pointed at one section of the darkened tunnel. Now that he mentioned it, they could see a stairway hidden there. According to the driver, the organization didn't officially allow observers, as one of the requirements for taking part in the banquet was to become complicit. However, they were willing to waive that requirement for some of their wealthier financiers. There was no small number of their older patrons who, while brutal in nature and filled with licentious appetites, lacked the willpower and physical resilience to partake in the banquets themselves. To accommodate them, the organization had built a balcony that was far enough back so as not to dampen the enthusiasm of those down below. That way, they could enjoy the bloody banquets to their hearts' content whenever they liked. "Hmm. For a group of so-called demon worshippers, their business senses seem much more on point than their actual beliefs... Ah, I see you're in quite the hurry. Fare thee well, Ms. Lovely Maid." The Butcher gave Hina a little wave as he watched her race down the stairs like a tempest given flesh. The decorative carvings on the wall flitted into her peripheral vision one after another as she barreled past them. They featured a horned monster laughing as it ate people. They were impressive pieces of artwork, albeit in rather poor taste. The devout probably depicted what they imagined a demon to look like. How completely absurd. Hina found the whole thing exasperating. For she knew one thing—those images didn't even begin to compare to how horrifying actual demons were. The pain they inflicted on people was beyond imagination. Admiring Diablo and its demons and altering them to make them more palatable to blindly believe in were both acts of utter ignorance. No matter how much you change them to suit your fancy, God and Diablo will never be worth believing in. No matter how many hordes of people praised and extolled them, Hina would never be able to bring herself to join the chorus. In her mind, there was only one entity worthy of her faith. It was Kaito Sena, her eternal lover. Him alone. For that was what love was—madness and faith. And beyond that staircase waited the woman whom the man she believed in believed in himself. And that was why Hina was making such haste. Suddenly, the walls at her flanks ended. Hina raced out onto the balcony. A chandelier glittered beside it, and past the balcony, Hina could make out what was going on below. She gasped. Or rather, she replicated the human gesture of gasping. The lower level was red with blood. In all likelihood, the scene that had just taken place was far grislier than any the rich financiers had ever witnessed from atop this balcony. Now, though, the carnage was over, and the floor below was a sea of blood and viscera. Ravaged corpses were piled up like mounds of dirt. Many of them looked to have been slain by the Torture Princess without so much as a chance to fight back. At long last, their crime had found its punishment. However, there was someone down there who was still alive. A young man with an ax leveled his blade at Elisabeth, squaring off against her with some sort of resolve burning in him. Elisabeth shrugged. "You never took part in the banquet to begin with, so it's not as though I've any intention of killing you." "Shut up! You...you're no different than they were! How could you do something like this?!" The man shouted, practically bellowing, and Elisabeth just shook her head. Then in the same level tone as before, she went on. "A question, then. Where was this foolhardy bravery of yours to be found when the girl was still alive?" *** "Why, if it's the brutality you object to, you could have even made this stand of yours back when they were alive. So why now? What will this baying of yours accomplish? Whose pain will it heal? At this late hour, how—?" "Be quiet! Shut up already, you monster! Yeah, you're right. I regret it. I regret it, okay! This is what I should have done the moment I stepped into this damn room! I don't know how long it'll take me to atone for not doing so, but I'll do whatever I have to!" "I see. Well, I know not the scale of your resolve, but if it's resolve you have, then I shan't say any more." "But here and now, what I need to do is kill you! How am I supposed to move forward if I let a monster like you live?!" Hina quietly listened as the youth raged. Elisabeth merely nodded. And Hina knew. When a person met a monster, even if it posed no threat to them personally, it was still their duty to kill it. Such was the fate of people and monsters. And yet... "Such is the fate of people and monsters." As Hina whispered those words, the young man raised his ax up high. He charged at the Torture Princess. However, his movements were so slow, it was almost sad. One snap of her fingers was all it would have taken for Elisabeth to end things. However, she didn't move a muscle. The Torture Princess calmly returned the youth's gaze. And Hina continued: "But you, my lady, are no monster." Sometimes, the only thing that could kill evil was a different brand of evil. But in the end, only good could break that cycle of malice. That, too, was one of the world's many truths. The Torture Princess knew that fact well. And anyone who knew that fact couldn't possibly be a monster. She was just Elisabeth Le Fanu, and she was standing motionless. The executioner's ax drew ever closer. "And I will never leave you alone." If the people of this world refused to see that, then it fell on those who didn't fit that criterion to stay by her side. Namely, a foreigner from another world and an automaton. Hina practically pirouetted as she leaped off the balcony. "That's right. If this was all you saw of her, then that would be a perfectly reasonable conclusion to draw. After all, it is an undeniable truth." Her maid uniform fluttered as she descended straight down. After that ghastly scene, it was impossible to deny the Torture Princess's brutality. Even so, Hina's feelings remained unchanged. "...However, I refuse to let you call her a monster." The person whom her beloved admired, a woman whom she herself adored— —was standing there with a forlorn look in her eyes. What more reason could she possibly need? Hina's silver hair swayed as she gracefully made her landing. She swung her halberd and easily lopped off the head of the young man's ax. Its blade went spinning through the air, eventually planting itself in corpses' torsos. Hina lifted her beautiful face and spoke without a moment's hesitation. "Never again utter such rudeness to my dearest Lady Elisabeth." "Wha...? I don't—" "And heeere I goooo! Hachaaaaaah!" The young man began to let out a bewildered yelp, but he was cut off by a loud, cheerful cry. At some point, the doorway had gotten thrown wide-open. The Butcher had used the key. Something large and heavy came hurtling through the entrance—the massive bone-in piece of meat that had put in so much work this day already. After spinning through the air, it struck the young man square in the forehead. The youth keeled over backward, then went still. It looked like it had given him a concussion. Hina fixed her gaze on him. His life didn't appear to be in any danger. When he woke up, he would probably flee. Then he would report what had happened to the Church, and they would learn of Elisabeth's brutal act. In the end, though, she'd successfully put down an equally brutal group of demon worshippers, so the Church would try to quietly put the matter to rest. Yet even so, the rumors would linger on. Loathsome Elisabeth. Repulsive Elisabeth. It was true. The punishment that the Torture Princess had handed down was a fate no person had the right to subject another to. But at the same time, no more innocents would fall victim to these dark underground halls. Each was just as true as the other. And because of that, Hina elected to gaze. She gazed straight at Elisabeth. Elisabeth, for her part, blinked repeatedly. This clearly wasn't a turn

of events she'd anticipated. Eventually, Elisabeth spoke. "Now hold on a minute... What are you two doing here?" "One thing led to another, you see!" "And we ended up tailing you!" Choosing to omit some details, the two of them proudly puffed out their chests. Elisabeth scratched her cheek as though unsure of what to say or do. And Hina and the Butcher both knew—even considering how slow he was moving, she could have easily countered the young man's attack. However, whether or not she had actually needed help was beside the point. Hina simply refused to leave the Torture Princess alone. Hina and Kaito had promised to stay by Elisabeth's side, and it was their duty to follow through on that. She silently addressed her eternal lover. Isn't that right, Master Kaito?! She then cleared her throat, her chest puffed out all the while. The carriage rattled along the dark night road. Beside Hina sat Elisabeth, who'd been making a tense expression for some time. The only thing that broke the silence was the Butcher's occasional cheers of "Heigh-ho!" Eventually, though, Elisabeth spoke in a quiet, stiff tone. "...You've no objections, Hina?" "About what, might I ask?" "You saw the atrocities I committed back in that room. You ordered the man not to call me a monster, but...your master is Kaito, not I. There's no need for you to flatter me. I'm appreciate your diligent service, don't get me wrong, but you needn't pretend to hold me in such regard." "I'm sorry, Lady Elisabeth, but please don't misunderstand me." Hina immediately rejected Elisabeth's premise, and Elisabeth turned back toward her so fast, it was like she'd been slapped in the face. Hina returned her master's master's gaze and returned her stare. Her emerald eyes gleamed. "I might not have a sense of morals the way humans do, but I am aware of how your past deeds and cruel nature have drawn hatred and criticism from many. I can't refute what they say...but at the same time, it's my right to choose who I want to protect, and who I want to hold dear." My heart is mine and mine alone. Not even my beloved master can deny me that. That was what Hina was saying. That was the one thing she refused to waver on. In fact, not even Kaito had the power to change her heart. Whenever he made a big decision, Hina would always think things over on her own first before making her choice. That was the mark of her dignity. That was the mark of her pride. And that was the mark of her love. Elisabeth had no answer for that. Instead, she just stared off into space and, eventually, curiously posed a question. "...How utterly puzzling. What about me do you find so worthy of your admiration?" "Hmhm, there are oh-so-many things... But the specifics are a secret. That's something you'll have to figure out for yourself someday, Lady Elisabeth. It wouldn't mean anything if I just told you." Hina playfully raised a finger in front of her lips. She and Kaito both adored Elisabeth. However, it was important that Elisabeth figure out for herself why that was. It was important for her to realize there were people who willingly stood alongside the Torture Princess in the hellish wasteland she'd created. There was something the two of them had changed. A truth that had seemed unshakable. "Heigh-ho!" the Butcher cheered once more. Elisabeth let out a little murmur. "You're a strict one, aren't you?" "Oh yes! I may dote on Master Kaito, but even I know when it's time for some tough love!" Hina puffed up her chest with pride. It wasn't good to spoil people, so at times, even love required a strict hand. Elisabeth shook her head as though to admit defeat. At long last, the first genuine smile she'd worn that day spread across her face. Hina loved it dearly when Elisabeth made that expression. She thought it was very becoming. Then Elisabeth whispered to her. "You know, in the interest of avoiding a large hassle, what say we—?" "Keep this all a secret from Master Kaito? Oh, of course." They exchanged a glance, and with that, their girls' promise was official. A moment later, they both broke out into laughter. Another strange "Heigh-ho!" echoed through the air as the carriage rattled beneath the dawn sky. And back at the castle, Hina's favorite person in the whole world was still sleeping soundly. A Message from Someone (5) To begin with. To begin with, to begin with, to begin with. Let's begin with basic premises. What am "I"? To begin with? Even if I asked you, I doubt you would have a good answer. I'm not even sure I do, so there's no good reason for you to. Or wait, do I have it all backward? Do you understand what "I" am better than I do? It's certainly possible. After all, the world is full of stories about "me," every one of them dressed up with pomp and flair. It's as though my own life were a fairy tale. A beautiful myth, adorned with a gorgeous bouquet of lies. How utterly absurd. How completely obnoxious. I don't want to be glorified, I have no desire to be revered or worshipped, and I certainly don't think you should put your faith in me. After all, what good will your prayers do? I have no way to reply and wouldn't have anything to say even if I did. In short, what I'm trying to say is this. Fuck off. Why should you people get to erase the fact that I was myself? Why should I let the sin I shouldered get stolen and painted over with pretty words? But you see, this is where I stop being so sure of myself. Are these thoughts simply the product of madness? Or would someone of sound mind have arrived at them as well? In truth, I don't much care either way. There's just... There's this acute feeling I have in the bottom of my heart. Why was it me? Why wasn't it you? Hina's Daily Routine (Front Side) "So Hina left these diary entries behind before she vanished, huh?" "What even is a 'daily routine'?" It all happened one evening, a short while after the Grand Governor was trounced; Hina and Elisabeth swapped outfits and roles to kill some time, and the group got wrapped up in an incident involving a curse. All the chaos had died down, and life at the castle was peaceful once more. Or so they thought, until a new incident reared its ugly head. Kaito Sena and Elisabeth sat facing each other, their expressions clouded with worry. Sitting them between was a single book with the words Hina's Diary written on its cover. Things had all begun a few hours prior, just after dinner. "Hiiinaaa." "Oi, Hina, where are you?" At the time, Kaito and Elisabeth were both looking for Hina, albeit for different reasons. Kaito's motive was that he needed to confirm the number of spare bottles of wine they had in stock. Elisabeth, on the other hand, just wanted to cajole Hina into making her a midnight snack. However, Kaito couldn't find her in her room, nor could Elisabeth find her in the kitchen. At that point, though, both of them had yet to realize just how serious the situation really was. The two of them each casually wandered about and checked the places they thought she might be. The route she patrolled at the night, the pantries she might be reorganizing, even the spirit-filled reservoir. But no matter where they looked, Hina was nowhere to be found. "Huh? Where'd she go? Hiiinaaa, where aaare you?" "Hmm. Not here, either? Hina, where did you wander off to?" As the two of them called out to her, they bumped into each other. And the moment they did, they realized something. Something had probably happened. That mutual hunch of theirs was soon proven. No matter how long the night waned on, Hina never showed up. They exchanged a glance. Not only could they not find her, but Hina also had automaton-level hearing. The fact that she hadn't come bounding over like a loyal hound the moment Kaito started calling for her was strange in and of itself. They crossed their arms and headed for the throne room. Elisabeth plopped herself down on the throne. After crossing her fair legs up high, she gave her final verdict with a grim expression on her face. "'Twould seem we've no choice but to consider the chance that she's gotten herself wrapped up in some sort of trouble." "Don't tell me a demon broke in..." Kaito's expression froze. There was precedent for that, as Elisabeth's castle had once found itself under attack by the Knight's beast. He didn't want to consider the possibility, but he couldn't deny that it existed. However, Elisabeth shook her head no. "'Tis too early to make assumptions. Remember that curse that befell us the other day? Not every foe that makes its way into this castle is a demon." "Y'know...I really do feel like you should do something about this place's defenses." "'Tis intentional, you fool. I leave the defenses shoddy to lure in demons. I will admit that it's the mark of a third-rate master to expose her servants to undue danger, but...spiriting Hina away without a trace is a task that would daunt even the Grand King, highest ranked of the remaining demons. Even if demons were to attack, I imagine we'd lose you at worst." "I mean, I'd appreciate it if you put a little effort into keeping me alive. Anyway, if this isn't a demon attack, then what is it?" "I haven't the faintest... The worst-case scenario is that she was subjected to some manner of curse or suggestion and left on her own. But if that's the case, then any technique that could control her with such precision would have required some time to take hold. We'll need to examine the actions she took over the past few days." "Yeah... I really hope that isn't what happened, though." "All we can do is believe. At present, we have but one fact we know for certain." Elisabeth rested her chin on her finger. Her crimson eyes gleamed as she made her quiet declaration. "Trouble's fell scent is in the air." And with that, the story wrapped back around to the start. Currently, Kaito and Elisabeth were in Hina's room. The two of them were sitting cross-legged on the floor and going through Hina's diary. After reading the entry from the day prior, Elisabeth snapped the book shut. She crossed her arms with a guilty expression on her face. "Hmm, nothing that particularly strikes me as odd." "So you're the reason the meat keeps going missing at night." "Let's not dwell on that. It's not important right now." "Huh, and when did she have a chance to hear me sleep-talking?" Kaito cocked his head to the side in confusion as he thought back over the passage in question. According to Hina, he had said, "I'm stuffed—I can't eat another bite," but he had no idea when that might have been. Elisabeth blinked. "Hmm? When she was pressing her ear against your bedroom door that morning, as she does every day. When else?" "Wait, hold up." A piece of information he would have been happier not knowing had just been mercilessly added to his brain. Kaito squeezed his temples. Elisabeth tilted her head with a quizzical expression on her face. "Hmm? Oh, did you not know? She presses herself against it so firmly, and you never once complained, so I'd just assumed it was all consensual." "That makes it sound like some sorta weird kink thing! I'm telling you, I had no idea! Eugh..." Kaito looked up at the ceiling in lament. He crossed his arms and sank

into thought. After thinking it over for a while, he let out a quiet murmur. "...What does she find enjoyable about that?" "Oh heavens, I haven't the faintest. Nor do I suspect I wish to." Elisabeth followed him in crossing her arms in thought. Now they had another useless riddle on their hands. However, this was hardly the time to be worrying about it. All of a sudden, Elisabeth rose to her feet and returned Hina's diary to her desk. "Anyhow, none of the entries here seem suspicious. 'Twould seem there weren't any hints inside." Kaito nodded. He'd expressed qualms about looking at Hina's diary without permission, but Elisabeth had informed him that Hina let her read it from time to time anyway. It was nice that the two of them got along in spite of their professional relationship. Unfortunately, though, the diary hadn't given them any clues into their current missing-person problem. Hina's strong. But that's what makes this so worrying. "'Tis too early to give up hope, Kaito. Let's retrace the steps she took today." "Oh, that's a good idea. Yeah, let's do that!" Elisabeth strode off, proactive as always. Worried as he was, Kaito gave her plan his enthusiastic endorsement. If worse came to worst, they might at least find traces of any magic that got used. Kaito stood up. And with that, the two of them left the room and set off in search of leads on Hina's current location. There was nothing to be found in front of the door to Kaito's bedroom, nor did they have any luck in the surrounding hallways. After checking them, they headed to the next place that Hina stopped by in the mornings. Namely, the kitchen. When they got there, Elisabeth proudly puffed out her chest. "Each and every morning, Hina brews me the finest cup of tea, you know! See, unlike a certain someone, she knows what it means to be considerate! You could stand to learn a thing or two from her, Kaito!" "Oh yeah, Hina's great; I'm with you there. But you do realize that if I tried doing the same thing, I'd end up with a cup of toxic sludge, right?" "...'Tis a mystery to me how your cooking skills remain so singularly catastrophic." "You're one to talk, with that poison cooking of yours and all." "You know, if we weren't in the middle of an investigation right now, you'd be meeting a brutal end for that comment." As she spoke of bloody murder, Elisabeth headed to the white cupboard and threw its doors open. Inside sat Hina's collection of tea leaves, seeds, and dried flower petals—all of which were sourced from far and wide and arranged into neat little rows. The lowest shelf was home to the silver spoon, small dish, and mortar that made up her mixing set. Each morning, Hina would carefully consider the ambient temperature and humidity that day to come up with the perfect blend. Elisabeth circled the cupboard, looking it over from top to bottom. Kaito did likewise. This was where Hina did much of her work—not just in the morning, but in the afternoon and evening, too. However, they couldn't find anything out of order in the cupboard or its surroundings. They then gave the rest of the kitchen a thorough once-over and, upon doing so, discovered that it was completely spick-and-span. Not so much as a single knife was out of place. Elisabeth nodded in admiration. "Hina's efforts really do exude excellence, don't they?" "Yeah, you can say that again." As her beloved master and her master's master, it filled their hearts with pride. However, this was no time to be getting sentimental. The two of them quickly hurried out of the kitchen. This time, they headed for the stairs. "Why, Hina even cleaned the stairs throughout the castle today! Yet another display of magnificent thoughtfulness!" "Yeah, she said dust was starting to build up in the corners. For the record, I did help her out." "And you accomplished but a fraction of what she did, no doubt. The difference between your work and hers is as vast as the distance between Heaven and... Hold that thought." "What's up?" "Now that I say it, something dawns on me. 'Throughout the castle'?" Elisabeth massaged her temples. Kaito nodded—he knew exactly what she meant. Not only was the castle gigantic, but in keeping with its fortresslike exterior, its layout was also complex and unintuitive. Elisabeth's face turned a little pale. "I-in short, we, too, have no choice but to climb and descend its entire godforsaken span?" "H-hey, at least we're just looking around; it's not like we have to clean it or anything!" Kaito gave his response enthusiastically, but after thinking it over a little, he, too, came to appreciate how daunting the task before them was. As his mind swam, he recalled the interaction he'd had with Hina earlier that day. At the time, it was midafternoon, and the hem of Hina's maid uniform was swaying back and forth in the most adorable way as she diligently swept her broom to and fro. "Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho, my meats are the finest meats around! Filled with love and bravery, they'll never let you down! Eat them and your courage will increase a millionfold! As always, I'm your friendly neighborhood Butcher! Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho! And I am Master Kaito's maid!" While she briskly cleaned the stairs, Hina was also singing, and her revised version of the Butcher's peculiar song echoed through the halls. Each time she finished clearing a given step of its dust and cobwebs, she would hop down to the next step in turn without wasting so much as a single movement. It gave her work an almost rhythmic flow to it. Impressed, Kaito walked over to her. She immediately turned around. When she spotted him, her face lit up like a puppy whose owner had just returned home. In fact, Kaito could practically envision a little tail wagging back and forth behind her. "Oh my! I sing Master Kaito's name, and here he is before me! Surely, this must be destiny!" "I dunno if I'd go quite that far." "In fact, I have half a mind to hold a wedding ceremony right here and now, but when I think about it, I suppose I'm already your eternal companion. Yee! ...Ahem. Forgive me, Master Kaito, I let my excitement get the better of me. Is there something you needed me for?" "Nah, I was actually just wondering if you wanted me to lend a hand." "Goodness me! Why, that's so kind, I could just swoon! I would be overjoyed to have you help!" In spite of the snarky quip it had been preceded by, Kaito's offer caused Hina's face to flush with glee. She was an automaton, so it was unclear if she actually needed the help, but she was clearly delighted by his consideration regardless of its efficacy. Hina smiled happily. Bliss practically radiated from her expression. Upon remembering that smile of hers, Kaito clapped himself on the cheeks. When he spoke, it was with renewed motivation. "And besides, we gotta do what we gotta do! Remember, this is for Hina!" "Right you are! For Hina's sake, no task is too onerous!" Kaito and Elisabeth gave each other a firm nod. Then they took off at a run. How did things go after that? Well, for all his enthusiasm, Kaito ended up being largely useless. Without a supplementary source of mana, his stamina quickly ran out, so despite verbally lambasting him as being a weak-kneed coward, Elisabeth ultimately had to cover the majority of the stairs herself. In the end, though, their investigation came up empty-handed. They did receive a scare when they found traces of mana-rich blood on the first floor of the main western stairwell, but they quickly realized that it was just Kaito's from when he keeled over in exhaustion. "Don't go leaving red herrings!" Elisabeth cried as she clapped him on the head. And there was something else they discovered as well. It was about the leftmost stairwell in the servant quarters, the one Hina had assigned Kaito to clean. After investigating the castle's staircases, they discovered that out of all of them, that one was both the shortest in length and had the widest steps, meaning it was by far the easiest one to clean. "...Man, I'm so tired that I can't even move, and even so, I can feel Hina's love." "...You're surrounded by it constantly. You should be feeling it all the time, you dunce." During their quarrel, the two of them were both sprawled out on the hallway floor. Kaito idly gazed at the ceiling. The light streaming in through the stained-glass windows was as creepily ominous as ever. He let out a dull murmur. "Elisabeeeth." "Whaaat?" "You really should remodel those, y'know." "I share the sentiment, but they're so high up, 'twould be a right royal pain." "Yeah, I feel you." Both of them sounded like their brains weren't getting enough oxygen. Before they even noticed, they got deeper into the night. Normally, this would be the perfect time to start drinking. However, they still hadn't found Hina yet. The two of them racked their exhausted brains for ideas. "...Man, I wonder where Hina went." "Well, we did cover the whole castle without turning up so much as a single trace of her. It seems rather unlikely it was any sort of curse or suggestion. No mage, no matter how skilled, could have pulled such a stunt off so cleanly." The good news was, that meant it was less likely that Hina was in any immediate danger. Even if they hadn't learned anything else, that alone was reward enough for their trials. Kaito breathed a sigh of relief. If that was the case, though, then where had Hina gone? Why did she vanish? Kaito and Elisabeth furrowed their brows. "Hey, Elisabeth. Are there any other possibilities that come to mind?" "At the moment, the most likely one seems to be that Hina left the castle of her own volition." "What, without telling either of us?" "Hmm. No, perhaps not." The mystery only grew deeper. Another silence descended on them, and they each closed their eyes and thought. Their bodies were hot from running all over, and the hallway floor was cold against their skin. Right when the two of them had just started cooling down, though, Elisabeth's eyes shot open. She sat up with a start. "Wait just one minute!" "Forget waiting—I wasn't even moving." "Precisely! No, not precisely." Elisabeth lay back down, then used her arms to lift her body off the floor and rose to her feet with movements reminiscent of a clockwork doll. She pointed her finger at Kaito, who was still lying on the floor. "I found it! Something strange!" And with that, they returned to the starting point. Namely, Hina's room. Elisabeth strode over to the desk and retrieved Hina's diary from between the desk's bookends. Then she flipped it open to the final entry and pointed at the passage in question. "Here!" "Uh... You mean this bit? 'However, I discovered that one of the rooms that had been listed as empty was actually being used to store grain. And just as I feared, the place was home to a large rat infestation. Perhaps due to the preservation magic that had been cast on the grain, each of the rats had grown to the size of a human baby. Oh my! As a result, we ended up having a rather heated battle.'" "I often cast magic on grain to preserve it for long periods, then forget that I did so or that it was even there in the first place!" "I feel like that's the sorta thing you should try to remember." "But see, even eating it would never cause rats to grow as large as babies!" "Say what?" Kaito stared at Elisabeth blankly. Being from another

world, that was all news to him. He couldn't help but glance back and forth between her face and the passage. "Wait, that clearly means something weird is going on! How could you not notice that?!" "No, well, they do grow fairly large, so I just overlooked it. But still, I've never once heard of them growing to the size of babies. Now that I think on it, these rats could well be someone's familiars." Kaito's face went pale. If Hina ran into someone's familiars and got into a fight with them, there was a very real chance she was in danger. He and Elisabeth had inspected the stairwell leading underground and the main corridor at its bottom when they were searching the castle, of course, but there were still a lot of rooms in its branching, labyrinthine hallways that they hadn't checked yet. Elisabeth snapped the diary shut with a stern expression on her face. They exchange a pair of grave murmurs. "So the place we should head to..." "Aye, 'tis the basement." After returning the diary to its desk, the two of them set off, throwing the door to Hina's room wide-open as they strode through it. Then they broke into a run. Their destination: the basement corridors. The basement corridors were dark, stank of rust, and were constantly filled with a noise that resembled a low moan. On top of that, they had been constructed in an obtuse, winding manner. Setting foot in them without proper preparation was just asking to die lost and alone. However, Kaito's life experiences had left him with a particular ability—he could remember anything perfectly as long as his memory of it was accompanied by pain. Thanks to the time he got Elisabeth to carve a map of the key areas in his flesh, he knew those spots like the back of his hand. However, there was a limit to that map's scope. And unfortunately, he wasn't familiar with the place that Hina had written about. "So, you have any idea where this 'room that was listed as empty but was actually being used to store grain' is?" "...About that. I haven't the faintest." "Don't you own this place?" Kaito frowned. If Elisabeth didn't know where it was, then they were at an impasse. Elisabeth impatiently glanced from left to right and back again. After painstakingly racking her brain, she let out a shout. "Well, you can hardly blame me! This is me we're talking about, remember—the person who shoved the grain into some random room, forgot about it, and listed the room on the map as unused in the first place! Why, it would be contradictory if I did remember where it was!" "You don't have to get so defensive, geez! It's not like I'd get anywhere by pointing fingers... So, uhhh, I guess our only option is to figure out which rooms you listed as empty, exclude the ones I remember, and go check all the others." "Aye. If we've other options, I certainly can't think of them." Elisabeth readily nodded. It was a boring plan, and labor-intensive at that. However, this was no time to be losing heart. Hina does so much for us; this is the least we can do for her. And with that, the two of them began their search of the basement. As they walked through the cold and the dim that permeated the basement hallways, their footsteps echoed in a manner that was downright unsettling. Although there were magic lights dotting the walls, the night down there was far deeper and darker than it was aboveground, and the shadows lurking in the nooks and corners seemed to defy any attempt at illumination. Elisabeth trembled just like she had the last time they found themselves wandering about down there. "Urgh, how do I describe it...? As always, this place is disagreeably disquieting. It plays on a person's childhood scars in a way demons can only dream of... Not that I'm afraid in the slightest, mind you!" "...I still can't get over how much being down here bothers you." "Don't you take that tone with me! Why, I've half a mind to subject you to the same ghost stories that Marianne and that wretched uncle of mine so gleefully tormented me with in my youth!" "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," Kaito listlessly replied as he took the lead and strode on. The two of them turned away from the main hallway, which led to the teleportation circle, and headed even deeper into the basement. Eventually, they reached an area that was predominantly filled with storerooms. It was dead quiet there. Just like Hina had reported, none of the traps were turning on when they weren't supposed to. However, that only served to accentuate the basement's gloom. Elisabeth trembled even harder, a fact that Kaito found downright astounding. "Seriously, what gives? How is it you can fight such horrifying enemies without even flinching, then get freaked out by your own basement? Actual real-life monsters have to be scarier than stuff from made-up stories, don't they?" "...Our grim tale begins just after a young bride meets a most untimely death." "Wait, hey, no, I don't wanna hear this." Apparently, Elisabeth intended to make good on her threat. The darkness of their surroundings did a perfect job of setting the mood, and Kaito couldn't help but break out into a cold sweat. Elisabeth ignored his pleas and went on. "The nightmare first took root in the manor's exquisite flower garden. Before anyone noticed, the rosebushes underwent a horrible change." "Elisabeth, man, you gotta cut it out—I'm not kidding around... Huh?" Suddenly, Kaito arched his brow. The bend in the hallway in front of him was almost completely cloaked in darkness, but he felt as though he could make out something writhing within. When he realized what it was, his eyes went wide. "Wait, what?" Just around the corner, there was a thick tangle of bizarre, undulating ivy. In fact, it almost resembled the plant from the ghost story that Elisabeth was telling him. He frantically yanked at her arm. "E-Elisabeth! Elisabeth!" "The first tragic victim was the gardener... What is it now, Kaito? We're just getting to the good part. At least let me get through the first night before you... Ah!" When Elisabeth caught sight of the aberration, she froze in place. The moment she did, Kaito realized something. This was bad news. Maybe getting Elisabeth's attention was a mistake. However, hindsight was twenty-twenty. He hurled himself backward, and without a moment's warning, Elisabeth let out a yell. "Death Rain!" "I knew it!" A surge of jet-black miasma and crimson flower petals whirled through the air, and red-hot lead began raining down from within it. The mysterious plant found itself completely dashed by molten metal, and Kaito had to frantically scurry around to avoid getting splashed. Then they heard a horrible "Screeeee!" Apparently, there had been something under the strange vegetation. Kaito turned back to look at it, then tilted his head. There were large piles of clay lying on the floor. However, he didn't see any collapsed walls or anything, so it seemed odd for there to be so much clay in the closed-off underground basement. But he didn't have time to ponder the mystery for long. The lead had started loudly cooling and hardening around the ivy, and a writhing swarm of something else entirely had emerged from beneath it. Kaito desperately tried to keep his cool and hold his ground. He squinted at the swarm to try and identify what it was composed of. Then he finally came to a realization. "It's some sort of weird plant...and a swarm of giant rats!" "Hmm? But why? There were no rats in the ghost stories I was told." "Those never had anything to do with anything!" As Kaito let out his exasperated bellow, the rats continued crawling over their comrades' corpses and advancing toward the two of them. Their size was just as Hina had reported it. They were about as large as human babies. The bigger problem, though, was just how damn many of them there were. The rats' noses twitched as Kaito and Elisabeth became the new targets of their single-minded hunger. The creatures seemed absolutely ravenous. As far as Kaito was concerned, this was far more terrifying than the ghost story had been. To Elisabeth, though, they didn't even register as things to be feared. She immediately regained her usual composure. Then she clapped her hands together. "I see, I see! I've cracked all the mysteries!" "Wait, you figured it out? You know whose familiars they are or whatever?" "No, no, these are no familiars! They're normal rats, born and raised!" "They're what?!" "Even if they ate magically preserved grain, rats would never grow to this size! But take a gander over there!" Elisabeth pointed toward the rats' feet. Kaito was confused, but he squinted in that direction regardless. There, he saw the odd pile of clay from before, the one that seemed so out of place. Now he realized that pile was where the ivy had sprouted from. Elisabeth puffed her chest up with pride. "That, right there, is the remains of a golem—likely one that got too old and broke down of its own accord!" "Oh, huh. You store unused golems down here, too? ...No, you don't. You were just running it ragged until it up and died on you. Isn't that dangerous? C'mon, you gotta keep a better eye on your stuff." "Yes, yes, many apologies, so sorry! Anyhow, when the rats were carrying the grain back to their nest, one of them must have dropped some in the golem's clay remains, and the mana stored in the golem caused the seeds to germinate. The rats weren't just feasting on the mana from the grain, but from the golem as well—that's why they grew so large!" "Ohhh... Wait, hold on a minute." If that was the case, then that put them all the way back at the beginning. Just as they'd originally concluded, there wasn't, nor had there ever been, an intruder. So where had Hina gone? But right when Kaito was about to ask that, Elisabeth looked up with a start. She strained her ears. "Hmm, hmm... Hmm... Hmm?" "C'mon, Elisabeth, listen to me when I'm talking to you. Hina is—" "There's something behind the rats...and it's moving? I have a bad feeling about this. Fall back!" "Huh? Hwah!" Elisabeth grabbed Kaito by the collar, then fled with him in tow. In the blink of an eye, they rounded the previous corner they'd turned. Elisabeth came to an abrupt stop. She crouched down with the wall to her back and dumped Kaito on the floor beside her. The rats chittered as they drew ever closer, and the ivy rustled along with them. Suddenly, both those noises were drowned out by a bizarre, intense FSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. "...Huh? What?" "Good going, me. Call me forgetful if you will, but my intuition is as sharp as ever." Elisabeth nodded proudly. Some wispy smoke flowed over from around the corner. It would seem that the noise had been from some sort of vapor billowing out. Kaito and Elisabeth were fortunate enough to have avoided a direct hit, but that wasn't enough to save them from being assailed by its horrid, pungent odor. They frantically covered their mouths. Still holding her breath, Elisabeth snapped her fingers. A whirl of black darkness and crimson flower petals coalesced, then began rapidly spinning to blow the vapor away. Luckily, that was enough to thin out the smoke. The two of them cautiously rose to their feet and slowly made their way across the corridor. They peeked out around the corner where the rats just were. "Huh?" "Hmm?" And what they saw there— —was some sort of bizarre life-form. "...It's a space alien." "The hell is a space alien?" Elisabeth reacted to Kaito's dumbfounded murmur with a frown. She wasn't

familiar with the term. Unfortunately, though, Kaito couldn't think of any other way to describe it. After all, the entity before them was clad from head to toe in silver. It was even holding some sort of copper tublike implement in its hands. It was bizarre, even by space-alien standards. Communicating with it probably wouldn't be possible. Kaito was at a loss for what to do. Then all of a sudden, it popped its head off. Beautiful silver hair flowed out and landed atop the entity's shoulders. "Wha—?!" "Oh?" Kaito and Elisabeth's eyes went wide. Then they cried out in unison. ""Hina!"" "Phew, that should finally be all of them... Oh? Why, if it isn't my beloved Master Kaito and my dearest Lady Elisabeth! Whatever brings you down here?" *** The two of them were relieved, but that wasn't going to stop them from shouting. Hina blinked her emerald eyes in puzzlement. Still dressed like an extraterrestrial, she cocked her head to the side. At that point, Kaito elaborated: "You went missing, so Elisabeth and I have been looking everywhere for you." "For me? Oh goodness, I'm ever so sorry. It was all part of my work for the day, and I figured I would be done in no time, so I didn't think I needed to tell you, but...could it be that it's much later than I think it is? Eek, oh no! I got so wrapped up in mixing that I lost track of the time! However can I possibly apologize?" Hina gave a hurried bow. However, Elisabeth told her that all was well. "A-as long as you're safe, then there's no harm done. Come now, raise your head." Kaito felt he should say something as well, but his attention kept getting drawn to what Hina was holding. Inside her copper tub, there was some sort of dark-green liquid sloshing about with a number of half-dissolved plants in it. He tried to peer inside. The moment he did, though, Hina quickly hid the tub behind her back and shook her head. "There isn't much left, but it's still emitting vapor! It's dangerous to stick your head in!" "Hina...what exactly is that?" "A secret mixture for exterminating rats, passed down since time immemorial, that I had stored in my Self-Recording Device! Or to be more precise, a special Murder Supreme Version of it that I came up with!" "'Murder Supreme Version,' huh...?" That certainly had a scary ring to it. By the sound of it, the rats didn't stand a chance. And given that that's what she was holding, it was easy to surmise the rest of the story. Hina must have gone back for a rematch with the rats. More than a little embarrassed, she bashfully told them the details. "You see, I ran into one of their survivors when I was making my evening rounds. After that, I was able to discover that their main diet wasn't actually the grain, but the plant growing here, and that their nest was tucked away behind it. From there, I went into the basement storage area and retrieved my ingredients and an outfit to safely handle them with..." "Goodness, I had no idea we even had such things stored in the castle." "Wasn't I just telling you to keep a better eye on your stuff?" "Then once I was done mixing the treatment chemicals, I evaded the swarm, put the tub in their nest, and finished them off by adding an herb in to release poison smoke! If the unthinkable happened and a rat that large were to bite one of you, why, I wouldn't have been able to rest until I killed every last rat in the world!" Hina clenched her fist tight, and the other two nodded in understanding. With that, all the mysteries were finally solved—why Hina had vanished, why they hadn't been able to find her, and why there hadn't been any traces of her. Everything was clear now. In short, there hadn't been any reason to worry in the first place. The fact that they were currently embroiled in a series of battles against the demons notwithstanding, it was certainly possible that they had let their imaginations run a little too wild. It would probably have been smarter to at least wait until the next day before sounding the alarm. But right as Kaito and Elisabeth were about to start reflecting on their actions, Hina gave them a big, bright smile like a flower coming into full bloom. "I really am sorry about the inconvenience, but thank you both so much. Knowing that my beloved Master Kaito and my dearest Lady Elisabeth were worried for my sake, why...it makes me feel more blessed than I could possibly dream of!" Overcome with emotion, she blinked happy tears from her emerald eyes. Kaito and Elisabeth couldn't help but scratch their cheeks. Then they puffed up their chests like what they'd done was the most natural thing in the world. A Message from Someone (6) That's right—why was it me? Why wasn't it you? Why me? Why was I the only one who had to endure this? If I think back, there was no real reason why I should have had to do all the things I did. All the stories they tell about "me" are far removed from the truth, so really, it should have just been someone who fit that idealized mold from the start. So why the hell did it have to be me? Why not you? You still live free of care in this fragile world I reconstructed, don't you? Yet you know nothing of the truth. Nothing of the facts. You just guzzled down the faith they laid in front of you like a pig at a trough, didn't you? That's right—flocks of sheep are fundamentally stupid. And that is the way things ought to be. Honestly, you probably don't think I have any right to blame you. But that self-indulgence of yours is a sin unto itself, and because of it, you never even tried to notice. Surely, the grace period I gave you was long enough. Yet even so, you were unable to learn. Stupid sheep. Fattened swine. I keep sending you these messages, but you never reply. Is my voice even reaching you? ...Because if it is, if you can hear me, then surely, you're putting in a commensurate amount of effort trying to respond, aren't you? Don't tell me you didn't try at all, did you? Surely, surely, surely that isn't the case. Fine, then. Fine. If no one will listen to my message, then so be it. But if that's the case, then...I curse you. A curse on you. A curse on you. A curse on everything— —and a curse on you. Hina's Daily Routine (Back Side) "I understand, I really do—you all have your peace, just as we have ours." An earnest voice could be heard in the dim light. It echoed against the walls, gradually growing deeper and heavier before eventually fading into nothing. The speaker—Hina—fixed her emerald eyes straight ahead of her. She was squaring off against a foe. "However, your peace is in danger of encroaching on the lives of my beloved and my dearest." It was rare for Hina to take such a tone with her adversaries. Normally, she made no efforts to conceal her hostility and scorn. However, her current conduct was an exception to that, and for good reason. Chance encounter though it was, it wasn't her first rodeo with this particular foe. It was a rematch. Hina had defeated them once before. In fact, she thought she had stamped them out. After all, there was a marked gap between her capabilities and theirs. She was powerful; they were weak. And yet even so, they had escaped annihilation and concealed a fair number of survivors from her. Given her overwhelming advantage over them, that in itself was a form of defeat for her. The mere fact that a rematch was necessary had earned them a fair bit of her respect. "Prepare yourselves—for it is my duty to end your lives until none of you remain." With that declaration, Hina made her intentions known to the enemy forces once more. The darkness before her wriggled and squirmed, and cries that were filled with a mixture of bloodlust and primitive animal fear cut through the air. Hina nodded in satisfaction. It looked like their second bout was going to be just as heated as the first. Hina adjusted her grip on the instrument of death she was holding. This time, though, it wasn't her usual halberd. It was a copper tub filled to the brim with rat poison. "Now then, have at you!" And with that, Hina charged alone into the massive swarm of rats. As an aside, she wasn't wearing her standard maid outfit, either. Instead, she had on a silver outfit that was cylindrical at the torso and wide at the arms and legs. It somewhat defied comprehension, although to put it in terms from Kaito's world, it looked sort of like a space suit. Her stout legs went thump, thump, thump as she raced down the corridor. It was a sight that begged the question: How did things even get to that point? Answering that, though, would require going back a few hours before the final showdown began. "Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho, oh-ho-ho-ho-ho!" After serving dinner, Hina happily sang a little song. And why wouldn't she be happy? The day had been lovely in so many ways. Kaito had helped her clean the stairs, and Elisabeth had complimented her cooking. She was filled with the kind of joy that could only be expressed through song. "Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho, my meats are the finest meats around! Filled with love and bravery, they'll never let you down! Eat them and your courage will increase a millionfold! As always, I'm your friendly neighborhood Butcher! Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho! And I am Master Kaito's maid and lover! Eep!" Even though she was the one singing, she bashfully covered her face anyway. She had been able to spend yet another day working for the people she loved, and just thinking about that fact filled her with joy and pep. The group was smack-dab in the middle of their prolonged battle against the demons, but as far as Hina was concerned, these were the happiest days imaginable. For there was something she knew. She was, without a doubt, truly fortunate. The automatons Vlad built as presents—Hina's sisters—couldn't feel strong emotions. Yet even so, if they saw how she was being treated, it wouldn't be odd for them to feel driven to tear her limb from limb. She was just that blessed. Carefully crafted automatons like her could sometimes develop emotions and rich minds of their own, depending on how they were used. It blurred the line between her and actual humans. However, this world had magic, so there was something of a surplus of entities with minds of their own. There were familiars, spirits, mythical beasts, and even summoned souls like Kaito, and all of them were frequently used as servants. In a world like this, the thought of automatons having human rights was absolutely laughable. As a general rule, things created using magic were viewed as nothing but tools for their users. That was just a commonly accepted fact. However, Hina's two masters treasured her like she was an actual human girl. For starters, both of them were kind people. Also, in Kaito's case, he was from another world, and for Elisabeth, she probably just didn't pay the matter much thought. Neither of them realized what they were doing, but from Hina's perspective, the way they treated her was a blessing she could never have even dreamed of. To her, being able to work for their benefit was the ultimate form of bliss. The only way it could possibly be better was if her eternal lover, Kaito, would let her dote on him

to her heart's content. "Sigh, Master Kaito was the coolest today, just like he always is... The way he ties up his hair into a little knot is so lovely, I could just lick him all over and smooch him until the cows come home... All right, it looks as though I've finished making the rounds. What should I do now? I wonder if Lady Elisabeth wants to play some cards or some chess, or perhaps even do some drinking..." It had been cloudy that afternoon, so although things could go either way, there was definitely a risk it could rain. Depending on the weather, they might have to pick somewhere different to hold their evening activities. Hina headed over to one of the windows lining the hallway to see how things looked. *** Suddenly, she sensed a presence. She whirled back around on the spot. At present, Elisabeth and her servants—Hina included—were locked in battle against the fourteen demons. No matter what else she was doing, Hina never let down her guard. Even if, by some turn of fate, she had been sloppily making out with Kaito, she would still have been vigilantly attuning herself to her surroundings. Thanks to that, her reaction was swift. She reached into her magic leather bag, pulled out her halberd, and brandished it menacingly. "Who goes there?!" However, Hina's shout was met with silence. Instead, some sort of figure dashed behind the sword-wielding suit of armor stationed at the bend in the hallway. It made its way down the stairs as fast as it could. Hina shifted her center of gravity down low, then took off at a dash, pursuing the target of her suspicion like a beast on the hunt. Down at the landing, the figure she saw earlier joined up with another, similar entity. The newcomer was holding a biscuit tight in its mouth. Kaito or Elisabeth must have dropped it while they were snacking on it. The figures were each about the size of a human baby. ...No. It can't be! When Hina realized what they were, she was shocked. And if she hadn't been sure enough before, the next noise she heard sealed the deal. Squeak! The two of them descended down into the basement. For a moment, Hina stopped in her tracks. She squeezed the handle of her halberd tight. A few tense words escaped her lips. "...I see there were survivors." Not only was that wholly unexpected, but also, to her, it was proof of a grave failing on her part. For to a servant like her, rats were her natural enemy. Unfortunately— —the castle's custodian had no patience whatsoever for dust, bugs, cobwebs, weeds, or rats. Whenever she found them, dead or alive, she would fight to the bitter end to ensure they were completely purged from the castle's halls. For example, there was the valiant battle she'd fought the day prior. As part of her task for the day, Hina went down to the basement. There were no problems with the teleportation circle, and all the traps were responding properly. But in one of the basement's rarely used rooms, she discovered that there was something strange going on. The records listed the room as empty, yet inside, it was full of grain. As a result, a rat infestation had taken root there, and to make matters worse, the preservation magic cast on the grain had resulted in a problematic side effect. Thanks to its power, the rats had grown to be as large as human babies. When Hina fought them, it was a fierce affair indeed. In the end, though, she managed to trounce them with ease, albeit with her legs a little more gnawed on than before. She knew that dumping their bodies in the forest ran the risk of disturbing the ecosystem, so she instead buried them out by the rear garden. Was it coldhearted of her? Perhaps. But the world was a coldhearted place. At that point, though, she got complacent and made the incorrect assumption that the battle was over. And that was a grave error. Some of the rats had survived. And where there were two survivors, there were probably two hundred more out of sight. "Oh dear... It would appear I've made a blunder. This time, I must be sure to finish them off before my beloved Master Kaito or my dearest Lady Elisabeth runs into them!" Hina clenched her fists tight. The thing was, her beloved Kaito dwelled in a golem body. In theory, it was immortal, but not even he would survive being eaten alive. In that regard, a huge swarm of giant rats was like his natural predator. And as for Elisabeth, the rats themselves didn't pose a threat to her, but if they scared her badly enough, there was a chance she would end up bringing the whole castle down just to kill them. Hina needed to settle this alone, and as quickly as possible. Before she descended the stairs leading into the basement, she massaged her temples and thought her options over. I remember the room where I faced the rats yesterday, and I think it's safe to assume their nest is somewhere near it. Now, if I head to that room and that room, I should be able to find... Hina searched her memory for all the bits and pieces she needed. Each time she walked through the castle's labyrinthine basement, she added the route she took to the ever-expanding map of the area that she kept stored in her brain with astonishing accuracy. She even recorded the contents of every room she visited. She would need materials for this rematch, and she knew just where to find them. It was unclear how many survivors there were, but it was essential that she wipe them out completely this time. Now certain of her path, Hina snapped her eyes back open. "All right, this will work! I was the one who made the mistake, so it's time for me to make things right!" After rallying her spirit, she stowed her halberd in her leather bag and daintily lifted the hem of her maid outfit. Then she gracefully descended the stairs. Her silver hair swayed as she vanished into the gloom. Incidentally, this was around the same time that Kaito and Elisabeth started looking for her to check the wine-bottle count and coax her into making a midnight snack, respectively. However, there was no way Hina could have known that. Down in the basement, not even her beloved master's voice could reach her. Undeterred, Hina began running through the underground corridors. Her first mission was to figure out where their nest was. To do that, she headed for the grain storeroom where their previous battle took place. To get to the present, you had to start with the past. At the moment, their old battleground was devoid of rats, but Hina didn't let that discourage her. Not faltering or panicking in the slightest, she pulled a block of strong-smelling cheese out of her leather bag, tore off fragrant little chunks, and placed them throughout the hallway. Cheese might seem like an odd thing to carry around, but she liked to have some on hand so Kaito or Elisabeth would have something to eat if the situation called for it. Then she concealed her presence and waited. When she really put her mind to it, Hina could even silence the cogwheels inside herself and truly act the part of an object. Before long, a single rat appeared. Not noticing her, it took the cheese in its mouth and happily scurried off. Hina followed behind it with silent footsteps. After tracking it for a little while, she arrived a corner and made a sudden stop. She peeked around it. There was something writhing around the bend. Upon further inspection, she discovered that it was some sort of strange, rapidly growing ivy. It would seem that the rats weren't her only enemies. Hina carefully surveyed the surroundings. In doing so, she finally realized what had driven the rats' irregular growth. There were several large piles of clay scattered all over the hallway floor, which was odd, given that she was underground. They were where the ivy had taken root. Considering the golem, the rats, and the grain seeds, the answer was as clear as day. "I see... It all started when one of them dropped some seeds it was carrying. And I suspect that their nest is inside it." Ever since the ivy grew around their nest, the rats had been enjoying its blessing. It made for the perfect defensive wall. However, now Hina knew where they lived. Her task was set. Hina nodded. The method she had in mind should end up getting rid of the ivy, too. This wasn't a problem. "Now then... Let's get this started, shall we?" Her emerald eyes flashed as she shifted her battle plan into its second phase. Little did she know, though, that things were only going to get harder from there. "Hmmm. It really is kind of old, isn't it?" Hina crossed her arms. She was in another storeroom that had been listed as empty on her maps. Several jars sat before her, all of which she'd pulled down from the crumbling shelf embedded in the wall. At a glance, they looked like antique bottles of wine, but they were actually chemicals infused with mana. However, these weren't the kinds of fancy chemicals that professional mages used in their research. They were just minor household supplies, like pesticides and herbicides. It wasn't exactly a trivial task, but by going to Mage's Row in the Capital and getting a membership card, which demonstrated that one understood enough about magic to know how dangerous they could be, even members of the general public could get their hands on such chemicals. However, it was unlikely that anywhere but Elisabeth's castle had them stocked in such variety or quantities. It was a complete mystery as to why she'd bought so much. In all likelihood, though, she'd probably had a small bug problem at some point, freaked out, and completely overreacted. Later, Hina had taken it upon herself to draw strangely adorable skull marks on the lids of each one. That way, nobody would accidentally mistake them for wine. It was a more legitimate concern than one might think, as Elisabeth was secretly a giant klutz. It really is such a charming feature of hers... That aside, though, we have a problem. After mentally reaffirming how adorable her master was, Hina sank back into thought. She stared at the box of herbs and the two types of bottles she'd picked out. "It's as I feared. They've grown too deteriorated." At the moment, Hina's plan was to concoct a powerful rodenticide. She was using a recipe listed in her Self-Recording Device; these instruction had been passed down since time immemorial by traveling mages who used it when they visited small villages stricken by plagues. The process involved combining two kinds of simple cleaning chemicals, then tossing in an herb that would release poisonous fumes to kill the vermin. The problem, though, was that the chemicals had weakened with age. "Well, no sense in standing around worrying about it. Let's at least see how it looks." Hina ripped the oil-paper lid off one of the bottles. Even just doing that was enough for her to tell how half-hearted the bottles' supposedly airtight seals had been. She frowned, then poured a drop on her finger and placed it atop her tongue. It was a special automaton technique for testing such things. For a moment, she closed her eyes. Then when the analysis was complete, she nodded. "Yes, just as I thought. I can't really expect these to have much of an effect at all." The chemical had lost almost all its mana, and its composition had badly degraded. As a result, the toxin's effect on the rats

would be much lower in turn. There was no way such an inferior poison would be enough to take down those massive rodents. Hmm. Hina closed her eyes and thought. One option was to simply head back upstairs. From there, she could get in contact with the Butcher and order fresh chemicals. However, that would mean leaving Kaito and Elisabeth to coexist with the rats while she waited for the chemicals to arrive. In Hina's mind, that was a complete nonstarter. Why, she was Kaito's eternal lover, his faithful companion, his soldier, his weapon, his love outlet, his sex doll, and his maid. She refused to expose her lover to so much as the faintest possibility of harm. And she refused to allow rats a place by her masters' sides as well. She had her pride, after all. "That's right. I can't give up now; it's simply not an option." She clenched her fists in determination. Running away with her tail between her legs would be a disgrace on her name as a servant. As a good wife, and as a proper maid, she didn't have the option of giving up. "It's all right, though. I have a plan. The only thing I need to do is follow my master's example." Hina placed her hands, overlapping one over the other, atop her sizable chest. She closed her eyes as though in prayer. Then she spoke in a voice brimming with faith and affection. "That's right—it's time to emulate Lady Elisabeth, poison-cooking extraordinaire!" Hina was completely serious, by the way. Her words were intended as a sincere compliment. If Elisabeth herself had heard her, though, she would have let out a shriek like an avian cryptid and sent Kaito flying with a ferocious kick. Why MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?! he'd have cried as he spun through the air. Fortunately, however, no such victim emerged here. Hina nodded vigorously and reached for a new bottle. "Luckily for me, I'm an automaton, and poison has no effect on me! Thanks to that, I can make my concoction with the Lady Elisabeth Method: 'Throw random things in the dish as the mood strikes me'!" Then she grabbed the large copper tub from the bottommost crumbling shelf. Just as originally planned, she dumped the two chemicals into it. After taking the now-empty bottles and tossing them on the ground helter-skelter, she immediately reached out and grabbed more bottles. She steeled her resolve. "All right, let's do this! Time to make an even stronger rat poison—the Hina's special Murder Supreme Version!" And with that, she announced the start of her horrific experiment. A centipede tried to flee from a crack in the wall, but it died before it could travel far. Several spiders plopped down from the ceiling. Not one of them was still alive. Hina let out a cry of delight at the successful completion of her slightly deranged experiment. "I-it's finished! I knew the Lady Elisabeth Method would do the trick! Now I've successfully defended my honor as Master Kaito's maid! Pant, pant, oh, Master Kaito, how I wish I could lick you and smooch you and nibble your adorable face!" Her cheeks flushed scarlet. Before her, the surface of the completed brew burbled and gleamed in a most unnatural way. At first, it was purple, then red. For a moment, it faded into a dull gray, before then shifting into an array of rainbow hues. For whatever reason, it ultimately settled on a deep, dark green. The whole process defied explanation. At least the color it ended up as was a fairly reasonable one for a chemical to be. Automatons didn't sweat, but Hina wiped her brow and let out a long breath all the same. It felt like the appropriate gesture to make, given the circumstances. She took another look at her finished concoction. It had plenty of mana, its effect was similar to the original rodenticide recipe, and its toxicity had received a major power-up. Thoroughly satisfied with her work, Hina surveyed the room. The floor was so covered in empty bottles, the scene looked like the morning after a night of revelry. She went silent for a few seconds, then eventually puffed up her chest with pride. "I thought I might be taking things a little too far!" That was a fact that she couldn't deny. However, it was also a fact that she completed her concoction. She eagerly grabbed the tub but, a moment later, quickly came to her senses. She was an automaton, so the poison wouldn't affect her, but if she carelessly spilled any... ...th-then the maid uniform Lady Elisabeth so graciously gave me will get ruined! She frantically glanced over her clothes. Fortunately, her mixing technique had been impeccable. In spite of all the countless bottles she'd thrown into that tub, not a single drop ended up getting spilled. It turned out that her status as a first-rate maid wasn't just for show. She breathed a sigh of relief. However, not even she would be able to protect her outfit while she carried the tub. After all, she was about to embark on the grand task of trying to break through the swarm of rats. "Um, well, I suppose I'll need one of those, but is there even one here...? Ah, there is! How lucky!" After searching the room, she was able to locate the item she sought sitting on the left-hand shelf. It was a large box. She rushed over to it and opened it up. Inside, she found exactly what she was looking for—the protective clothing that came bundled with large purchases of caustic chemicals. Just as she hoped, the two had been stored together. "All I have to do is put this on, and it'll be smooth sailing from here! Ha-ha!" Hina cheerfully donned the gleaming silver outfit, completely covering her lovely maid uniform. It looked rather bizarre, to the point where if Kaito saw it, he'd undoubtedly cry, It's an alien! However, Hina paid its appearance little heed, putting on the headpiece to cover the last bit of her body. Then she took the tub in her heavily bundled hands and held it tight. "Just you wait, my beloved Master Kaito and dearest Lady Elisabeth! This time, I'm going to go finish what I failed to settle last time!" Through the outfit, her resolute declaration got muffled and ended up sounding more like "Mm-mm, mm-mm, mm-mmph!" Incidentally, this was around the time that Kaito and Elisabeth were lying sprawled in the hallway at the end of their unsuccessful grand search. However, Hina still had no way of knowing that. Fully fired up, she began lumbering off with big, clumsy strides. She headed out into the hallway. However, she immediately turned around and lumbered back into the room. This time, she remembered to grab the herbs. Then she majestically strode out into the hallway. And with that, the story wrapped back around to its beginning. "Now then, have at you!" And with that, Hina charged alone toward the massive swarm of rats. The rats responded by rushing at her in kind. A cacophony of squeaking and chittering surrounded her on all sides. In fact, even the ivy began winding its way toward her. Apparently, obtaining such a large quantity of mana had bestowed it with something akin to intellect, and it had struck up a symbiotic relationship with the rats. Both it and the rats wanted to kill Hina and use her corpse for sustenance. However, Hina didn't slow her charge. Gah! They're a lively bunch, aren't they? —Not that I would expect anything less! The tub's contents lapped against its sides as she lugged it along. If the ivy wound its way around her ankles or if she tripped on a rat, all her efforts up until then would have been for naught. However, her prospects of success still looked good. Even though she hadn't added the rodenticide's final ingredient—the herb—yet, it was already releasing a powerful odor. That alone was enough to make some of the more cowardly rats among her enemies' ranks hesitant about approaching her. The rest were still leaping at her, but she managed to successfully dodge their attacks one after another. However, the biggest reason behind her confidence was her protective clothing. The material it was made of was unbelievably thick and durable, leaving her foes at a complete loss as to what to do. Incidentally, there was a good reason behind its ludicrously sturdy design. The kind of person who would go all the way to Mage's Row just to pick up some pesticide was invariably wealthy and powerful. If one of their servants ended up dying when using the shop's chemicals, they would likely come back demanding serious compensation. Now, though, the sellers' callous, calculating business savvy was helping Hina out in a major way. Hee-hee-hee. If you think you can stop me, you're welcome to try! Her clothing made it difficult to walk, sure, but even when the rats bit her, she didn't feel a thing. Plus, her legs were too thick for the ivy to be able to get a good grip on them. The only thing she had left to worry about was tripping, but the outfit's weight helped out on that front, too. After breaking through the opposing defensive line, Hina steadily made her way forward. If Kaito had been there to see her, he'd probably have shouted, When'd you become a rugby player?! Sadly, not a single game of rugby had ever been played in this world, but that didn't stop Hina from continuing her unstoppable advance. However, the forces guarding the nest were the best of the best, and Hina knew better than to try brute-forcing her way through them. "Oh dear..." Then out of the blue, the rats and ivy changed tacks. Hmm? It feels like...they've fallen back? Hina tilted her head to the side in confusion. It was almost as though they'd sensed some sort of new enemy behind her. Many of the rats broke off their attack on her, and some of the vines began making their way behind her as well. As it turned out, her hunch was on the mark. But although there was a great commotion taking place behind her, her thick protective gear kept her from noticing it. A few drops of molten lead even splashed on her back, but somehow, that wasn't enough to catch her attention. Instead, she just took advantage of the fortuitous opening and made a mad dash straight ahead. At long last, she reached her goal—the dead end at the far side of the corridor. Behind her glass visor, her emerald eyes gleamed. There it is, just as I thought! The rats had built their nest in a hole at the bottom of the wall. Because of their oversized bodies, their nest was similarly large, and it looked like the hole continued on for quite a way. However, rodenticide as powerful as Hina's could reach that far with ease. The rats gnawed Hina all over as she stooped down. She shoved the tub into the burrow's entrance. A chorus of indignant squeaks and chitters rose up around her. Hina replied in an apologetic murmur. "I'm sure you all just wanted to live out your days peacefully. I really am sorry about this." However, she didn't stop. Instead, she raised one of her hands, which was carrying the herbs, above the tub. When she spoke next, her voice rang with determination. "But I'm the one who's been tasked with keeping this castle clean. And sadly, that means that dust, bugs, cobwebs, weeds, and rats have no place here! When I find you, dead or alive, it's my job to purge you from this castle's halls! However, I do ask that you kindly stop biting me before I die." It was true. If not for her protective suit, the way they were biting her would have proved fatal, even for an automaton

like her. She raised her arm up high and spoke without a moment's hesitation. "Now then—it's time to settle this!" And with that, she hurled the herbs into the tub. The herbs bobbed as they floated on the liquid's surface. A heavy silence filled the air. Hina tilted her head to the side. Hmm? Then a tremendous quantity of smoke gushed out with a deafening FSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. *** Hina tensed up so badly, she practically joined the rats in their scream. The smoke, still making a FSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH sound, billowed past her at an alarming clip. It was so dense that she couldn't see a thing. Hina couldn't help being thankful that she was an automaton. It was dangerous to take a direct hit point-blank like that, even with the protective suit. "Oh, goodness... That gave me quite a fright." At that point, she realized that the rats around her had all toppled, and the ones that had been clinging to her had fallen off. Her concoction had worked. In fact, it might well have been overkill. She quietly clasped her hands together as though in prayer, then rose to her feet and clomped back the way she came. The smoke had dirtied up her glass visor, and it soon became evident that it wasn't going to clear up on its own. Hina deftly swapped the tub to one hand, then popped off her protective headpiece. She shook her head to clear the hair out of her face. Then, her eyes gleaming, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Phew, that should finally be all of them... Oh? Why, if it isn't my beloved Master Kaito and my dearest Lady Elisabeth! Whatever brings you down here?" When she removed the protective gear, though, she discovered Elisabeth and Kaito standing before her. It made no sense for them to be here, and Hina herself had no idea what was going on. However, one thing was clear—the two of them were definitely standing there. And what's more, their replies came in the form of a shout. *** She blinked her emerald eyes in puzzlement. Still dressed like an extraterrestrial, she cocked her head to the side. At that point, Kaito elaborated: "You went missing, so Elisabeth and I have been looking everywhere for you." "For me? Oh goodness, I'm ever so sorry. It was all part of my work for the day, and I figured I would be done in no time, so I didn't think I needed to tell you, but...could it be that it's much later than I think it is? Eek, oh no! I got so wrapped up in mixing that I lost track of the time! However can I possibly apologize?" Hina gave a hurried bow. She had no idea that anywhere near that much time had passed. Then a thought crossed her mind that caused her to panic so hard, she felt steam might come bursting out of her ears. Oh, oh my, thank goodness they weren't there when I released the chemicals! Why, I very nearly engulfed my two most important people in poison gas! In truth, she had actually engulfed them, but she of course had no way of knowing that. "A-as long as you're safe, then there's no harm done. Come now, raise your head," Elisabeth encouraged her. Hina very nearly replied that she couldn't because she hadn't finished expressing her penitence, but before she could get the words out, she spotted Kaito trying to peer inside the copper tub. She quickly shook her head and hid the tub behind her back. "There isn't much left, but it's still emitting vapor! It's dangerous to stick your head in!" "Hina...what exactly is that?" "A secret mixture for exterminating rats, passed down since time immemorial, that I had stored in my Self-Recording Device! Or to be more precise, a special Murder Supreme Version of it that I came up with!" "'Murder Supreme Version,' huh...?" "You see, I ran into one of their survivors when I was making my evening rounds..." And with that, Hina began honestly recounting everything that had happened in her long campaign against the rats. At the end, she passionately clenched her fist. "If the unthinkable happened and a rat that large were to bite one of you, why, I wouldn't have been able to rest until I killed every last rat in the world!" The other two nodded in understanding. It looked like they found her explanation satisfactory. That was a load off Hina's back. As her heart filled with relief, she felt a tingling of joy in it, too. Ah... How truly, truly blessed I am! In this world, nobody paid a second thought to the feelings of automatons. Yet these two had not just been worried about her, but they'd also even come looking for her themselves. It made her feel fortunate beyond belief. She gave them a big, bright smile like a flower coming into full bloom. "I really am sorry about the inconvenience, but thank you both so much. Knowing that my beloved Master Kaito and my dearest Lady Elisabeth were worried for my sake, why...it makes me feel more blessed than I could possibly dream of!" Tears began slowly but surely welling up in her eyes. Before long, she was crying in earnest. Unsure what to do, Kaito and Elisabeth scratched their cheeks. Then they cheerily went on. "C'mon, of course we were. It was our precious Hina we were talking about." "You work so hard for our sakes, and for all we knew, you might well have been in peril somewhere. 'Twas but a matter of course we'd come searching for you." Their words just made her happier and happier, and the tears kept coming. Kaito and Elisabeth affectionately came over and stood beside her. The moment they did, they both let out cries of surprised realization. "Whoa, Hina, your outfit's crazy stiff." "It really is. 'Crazy stiff' is just the way I'd put it." "Hee-hee... It is built to be sturdy, you see." Hina smiled again and wiped away her tears. Now that the rematch with the rats was over, the three of them headed back the way they came. The battle had left a pretty disastrous mess, and Hina knew she'd have to come back later and clean it all up. For now, though, she was going to take a little break. Her day had been full of joy, and there were so many things she wanted to write about in her diary. With any luck, the next day would be similar, as would the day after it. A small wish welled up inside Hina. Deep down, she knew it couldn't possibly come true. Yet even so, she wished that the happy days the three of them were spending together could go on forever and ever. A Message from Someone (7) I cursed, I resented, I hated, I despised, I grieved, I lamented, I cursed, I cursed, I cursed, and at the end of all my cursing... ...my wish was finally granted. The end of days took place once more. The seeds of evil I'd sowed budded without fail. At that point, all that was left was for everyone to die. The stupid sheep would perish, persistent in their idiocy to the bitter end. That would have been fine. Just deserts would have been served. That was the verdict I cast, and that was the wish I made. However... ...the person I am now— —is not who I was then. ...Will you hear me out? O anonymous listener who I once wished death upon? It is a tale from long, long ago. Back then, I made a fatal blunder. I brought about the end of days. But that wasn't my true intention. I didn't destroy the world because I wanted to. I was mistaken; don't get me wrong. One could even say that my very existence was an error. But even so, none of that changes the nobility of my goal. I just wanted to save the world when nobody else would. But in spite of that— —at some point, I forgot. He—the Mad King—was right. I forgot. Back then— —everyone was crying— —and I wanted to make it so they didn't have to— —so now— —why? Why are my ears— —so full of screams and—? "I caaaught him." "Excellent work!" Elisabeth was in the beastfolk lands. Having successfully carried out her Peace Brigade duties for the day, Elisabeth returned to Valisisa Ula Forstlast's residence. With a listless announcement, she kicked the bound mage forward. Her beastfolk subordinates replied with their thanks, and one deer-headed soldier dragged the man off to the dungeons for having committed the crime of ritualistic demon worship. Elisabeth rotated her shoulders in exasperation. Lute walked up to her and handed her a hot cup of tea. "I would expect nothing less. With this, we can strike another name off the most wanted list." "That's all, correct? I shall be taking my break now. And my dinner, albeit a late one." Shortly after she made her announcement, though, the door got violently kicked open. The voice that rang out seemed somehow puppetlike, yet at the same time, it was strangely obnoxious. "Pardon me. Elisabeth! Is Elisabeth Le Fanu around? Listen to what I gotta say for a minute, bitch!" "Ah. 'Tis Jeanne... I see you've made your way here from the Capital again. How many times does this make, anyhow?" "Don't worry about that; just listen. I don't understand what's going on in my little lady's head. Women, I'm tellin' ya! Like, does she hate me? She doesn't hate me, does she?" "As far as I can tell, Izabella's never been much of a clingy type. I'm off now. Good-bye." After exchanging a glance with Lute, Elisabeth beat a hasty retreat and made her way out into the hallway. Once she'd made sure nobody was coming her way, Elisabeth tossed a jewel downward. It struck the floor and drew a teleportation circle atop it. Crimson flower petals and darkness sprayed up as far as the eye could see, and cylindrical walls the color of blood formed around her. Fine cracks ran across them. Then they were gone, and nobody remained within. Elisabeth had vanished from the beastfolk lands. Tick, tock... Tick-tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Ti— Click. Click. "I've returned." "Hey, welcome home." Elisabeth spoke, and a cheerful voice called back. Kaito tilted his chair backward. Still seated, he turned around. The little knot that his faded brown hair was tied in dangled behind his head. As usual, his butler uniform looked completely ridiculous on his skinny frame. Appearing the same as always, he checked over the inventory listing for their main storeroom. Elisabeth started to raise her hand to greet him... Hmm? ...but halfway through, her arm froze. Something felt dangerously off. She cocked her head to the side. Meanwhile, Kaito continued scribbling away with his quill pen. From time to time, he would smudge some ink or begin idly doodling. It was an almost tear-inducingly mundane sight. There was nothing peculiar or amusing about it in the slightest. Elisabeth chose not to put her discomfort into words. Instead, she strode over to Kaito with a wide gait. Without even looking at her, he pulled out the chair beside his and gestured at it with his chin. "Mmm." "Aye." Elisabeth responded as though it were the most natural thing in the world, then sat down as well. A few seconds later, she cocked her head to the side again. However, she didn't get a chance to vocalize what it was that seemed so odd. Kaito slid the inventory list over to her and pointed at one of its blank spaces. "Elisabeth, I gotta say, these documents suck." "Dullard... That's the sole conclusion you reached after going at it all day? I'm out there working tirelessly, so the least you can do as my butler is keep my castle in order. Enough grousing—just

do your job!" Hmm? Hmmmm? What was she talking about? The words came to her readily, but they were accompanied by a third wave of indescribable malaise. She raised her hands up and down in consternation. Kaito, for his part, stretched his arms, then pursed his lips. "I mean, you say that, but... Here, how's this for a number that'll knock your socks off? The last seven years of inventory just...aren't listed." "Heavens, wouldn't it be faster to simply discard them and start from scratch?" "Right? That was the only real option I could come up with... Ugh, all that time wasted..." Kaito let out a big yawn, then went limp and slumped facedown on the table. Elisabeth poked him in the head. Now was no time for sleeping. For her troubles, she received a strange "Gehhh." As the two of them fooled around, a pair of light footsteps drew near. "Good work today, you two!" Upon hearing the cheery voice, Elisabeth looked up and was greeted by a pair of gleaming green eyes and a head of silver hair. They belonged to a beautiful automaton in a maid outfit. Hina beamed adorably as she pushed her serving cart along. Elisabeth found herself overcome with dizziness. However, she still had no idea why. Hmhmmm? "I've brought an afternoon snack for you, my beloved Master Kaito and my dearest Lady Elisabeth! There are tarts and muffins and cookies of every variety, so please go ahead and take whatever you like!" "Damn, you made all that? You sure you aren't overworking yourself, Hina?" "Eek, my adorable husband is ever so kind! Take me now! ...Ahem. Worry not. If it's for my beloved Master Kaito and my dearest Lady Elisabeth, then even baking sweets is like being in paradise! Right now, I feel super-duper happy in strict moderation! Eek, it's like the world itself is jealous of my joy!" "Uh, okay... Well, I'm not sure I totally follow, but if you're happy, then I'm happy, too." No, no, no, hold on a moment. 'Tis nice that Hina seems the same as always, but... Something about it was weird. Elisabeth massaged her temples. But no matter how hard she thought, she couldn't put her finger on what was so odd. Perhaps it wasn't just one thing. In fact, if she were to force herself to put it into words, then... "Everything" is odd. "Lady Elisabeth, which one would you like?" "The raspberry and honey tart, I should think!" In that moment, though, Elisabeth ceased wondering. She eagerly extended her hand. With a "But of course," Hina deftly dished up the tart. Elisabeth peered down at the plate. The tart was piled extravagantly high with raspberries, and the honey gave it a glossy sheen. Looking at it was like feasting her eyes on a mountain of rubies. As Elisabeth grabbed a fork, Kaito made a sly quip. "Man, I can practically see a tail and a pair of ears twitching on you." "Silence, you. I'm no cat." "And yet you're the only one who said anything about cats... Looks like even you realize it." "If I had to choose between being a cat or a dog, I would be a dog! I'd roll on my back, show Master Kaito my belly, and wag my tail so hard, it would almost fall off! Woof, woof!" "That's nice, honey. Even without a tail, you're plenty cute already." Kaito patted Hina's head past her soft maid hat. As Hina let out more delighted woofs, Elisabeth joined her hand to the petting. Hina was overcome with joy. Their Hina-cherishing party continued on like that for a little while. Perhaps it was just Elisabeth's imagination, but the air in the room seemed a bit warmer than it had been before. With the mood suitably lightened, Elisabeth turned back to her plate and spoke with a smile. "Now then, to the tart!" "I do hope it's to your liking!" "Make sure you slow down and chew it so you don't choke." "What do you take me for, a child?" As she shot a complaint Kaito's way, Elisabeth brandished her fork and sliced carefully through the crust so as not to disturb the cream or the raspberries. Then she slowly lifted the bite to her mouth, and— "...It tastes like nothing." —with a thud— —all the lights went out. Tick, tock... Tick-tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Ti-ti-ti-ti— Creeeeeeeeeeak. "Now then, I suppose that marks the end of the first act." A deep voice echoed through the air, and a lamp lit up in the darkness as though it had been waiting for that very moment. The lamp's candle cast a white circle around itself. Because it was pitch-black, even that meager light source seemed as blinding as the sun. Elisabeth squinted. She could see a pearl-gray tablecloth extending out from the circle on into the darkness. Silver buffet platters sat atop it, laden with food so colorful that they almost looked like they were made of wax. There were a number of hors d'oeuvres, from a translucent jelled oyster dish and a vividly orange marinated salmon to a broad selection of pâtés. The table was absolutely packed with fragrant foods. However, nobody was partaking in the spread, which looked too good to be true. There was but one person there. The silhouette of a man, sitting at the head of the table. He wore a silk shirt with a cravat, and his coat was decorated with silver thread. Ignoring the buffet platters, he instead ate from a single pure-white dinner plate. Upon the porcelain dish was a slab of meat with blood dripping from it. The raw liver didn't even look seasoned. The man cut thin slices of the meat and carried them to his mouth with his fork. The darkness was broken up only by the candlelight and the soft sound of dishes clinking. After looking at the man's crimson eyes, silky black hair, and beautiful features, which resembled her own, Elisabeth spoke. "And who the hell are you?" "Oh, come now, precious daughter of mine. This thing you do where you forget I exist isn't nearly as endearing as you think." Vlad Le Fanu put down his knife and fork. Elisabeth merely gave him a scoff. She knew perfectly well who he was. However, her resentment toward Vlad ran deep. The mere fact that she was willing to regard him with apathy instead of outright hostility was a supreme display of self-control. At that point, though, Elisabeth cocked her head to the side. What was it that Vlad just said? "...What first act?" "In a sense, we stand at a legend's end. The space beyond the fairy tale." All of a sudden, Vlad began speaking. He lifted his knife and fork once more. As he sliced up his meat, crimson blood trickled forth from it. "This is the stage past the curtain's fall, the shell of what remains after the final act that was the end of days—but the performance's end, you see, was nowhere near adequate. With its lease on life renewed, the world continued on. But the bells would eventually toll on a new curtain's rise." For that is the way bells and curtains are. Ting. After cutting his meat, Vlad dinged his knife against the plate's surface. Then he slowly looked up at Elisabeth, his mouth curling into a smile as he went on. "Preventing the play from ending. The three races, unified. A noble sacrifice. It's moving, don't get me wrong. A tale well worth telling. But what about the story that follows it?" "...What story?" "Revolution. Revenge. Betrayal. Any and all of these require diving deep into the actor's psyche and motives. And that means the story that follows can hardly be told. Eventually, all of it will be buried beneath the black veil of history. And with no regard paid to those who fought so valiantly... Although, of course, it's entirely too early to tell if there'll still be a world where one could tell it in the first place. Things are starting to look a little grim." Deftly moving his fork, he brought a taut slice of liver to his mouth and laid it atop his tongue. Then he popped it into his mouth, almost as though hammering home his statement to Elisabeth. The meat's crimson blood painted his lips a slightly darker shade of red as he let out a casual laugh. "Nobody's going to like this. Even seasoned veterans will want to avert their gazes. That's just the way it's going to play out." "Vlad, don't tell me... Did you hit your head or something?" "You know, your concern might well be touching if it weren't always so insulting!" On hearing Elisabeth's reply, Vlad set his utensils back down. In an unusual turn of events, it sounded like he was being relatively serious about what he was talking about. But what of it? Elisabeth frowned. For her part, there was a fretfulness eating away at her so intensely, it felt like her neck was burning. Something is off—I'm certain of it. Her vision wavered. Vlad's description was unpleasant, but more than that, it was disquieting. There was something lurking just below the surface, something she mustn't lay eyes on. However, Elisabeth couldn't even figure out what it was. Every time she tried to think about it, she was obstructed by an intense headache. "What...is this?" Elisabeth pressed down on her forehead. Vlad went back to eating. After elegantly making his way through the meat, he wiped his lips with his napkin and looked up. "Caught your attention?" "What?" The question came out of the blue, and it was notably lacking a subject. However, Elisabeth didn't get a chance to ask him to elaborate. Vlad nodded all on his own, then snapped his fingers. Darkness and azure flower petals filled the air. When they cleared, all that remained on the table was a single bowl. It was deep, and filled to the very brim with water. The water's surface, flat as a mirror, was projecting an image of somewhere else. Elisabeth's eyes went wide. She gasped. "Kaito, Hina..." Kaito and Hina were sleeping, huddled up together with peaceful expressions on their faces. They looked almost serene. It was just beautiful, nothing more. There wasn't anything odd about it. Everyone knew they were married, and it was perfectly normal for married people to sleep together. However... It seems so...distant. That calm, gentle scene was farther away than the world's end. Elisabeth was overcome with a crushing sense of isolation. She knew that the image on the water was just that, an image, but that alone didn't explain why she felt the way she did. It was like the entire space they were in was cut off from her by some sort of transparent wall. She gazed wordlessly at the two of them. Vlad laughed a low, booming laugh. Ignoring him, she reached out, even knowing there was no way she'd be able to touch the scene atop the water's surface. After all, it wasn't real. There was nothing there to reach. There shouldn't have been anyway. And yet. And...yet? ...Splash! Tick, tock... Tick-tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Ti-ti-ti-ti— Creeeeeee— —eeeak? "Hey, Elisabeth, what's going on?" "Are you all right, Lady Elisabeth?" ".................................Hmm?" Elisabeth slowly opened her eyes, only to have them immediately seared by a dazzling light. At some point, the room had brightened up. She could still see the pearl-gray tablecloth stretched out atop the table before her, but the silver platters and waxy-looking food were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Vlad, for that matter. In fact, Elisabeth had even swapped places with him and was now sitting at the head of the table herself. And the silver bowl with the image of Kaito and Hina had been swapped out for something as well. It was some sort of strangely majestic container. Elisabeth peered intently at the newly appeared object. I

know this. 'Tis... It was something she herself had once created on Kaito's request. It was an earthenware pot. What in the world was it doing there? No, no. There was something more pressing to consider. Namely, the fact that Kaito and Hina were standing right next to her. After looking down at her from both sides, they spoke. "No response. It looks like she's a corpse or somethi— Mmph!" "Come now, Master Kaito! I love you dearly, but you mustn't make rude jokes like that about women! Lady Elisabeth is a sensitive soul!" "Y-yeah, you're right. My bad... Seriously, though, Elisabeth, are you okay?" "Well, I am a tad worried about the way Hina sees me." Elisabeth frowned. From her perspective, she thought of Hina like a little sister, yet for some reason, it felt like she was the one being pampered. "Hmhm!" Hina puffed out her chest in an inexplicable display of pride. A half beat later, though, she hopped into the air with a start. "Whoa! Why, Lady Elisabeth responded!" "Whoa! What's going on, Elisabeth? You were totally spacing out there." "Spacing...out? No, I was just... Vlad was..." "Did you not want your purin?" "...Purin?" On hearing that, Elisabeth looked back over to the earthenware pot. Its lid was still on, but now that he mentioned it, she could definitely make out the pleasant aroma of eggs, milk, and sugar. It was, without a doubt, packed full of wobbly, pale-yellow goodness. Elisabeth instinctively reached for its lid, but she then stopped and shook her head. "No, wait, the raspberry tart... What became of my tart?" "Hmm? A tart? Would you have preferred a tart, Lady Elisabeth?" "No, no, that isn't it. It feels as though I can't tell up from down." Assailed by another headache, Elisabeth pressed down on her forehead. Now that she thought about it, everything was just downright bizarre. Her memories felt like they flowed into one another, but there were no logical links among them. They seemed to defy not just time, but space as well. As they watched her start brooding over the subject, Kaito and Hina exchanged a glance. They stepped back from the table. Then they crouched down and started whispering to each other. "Did she say that she wanted a tart, and not purin? Am I just misremembering it?" "If I may be so bold, I'm quite sure she said purin... But you have to remember, Lady Elisabeth is a growing girl. It's not strange for her tastes to change from day to day. Not to worry, though—we have plenty of apples, so I can go start making a tart right this moment!" "Wait, what? Elisabeth's still growing?" "Oh yes! Why, she'll probably end up being as big as me!" "Are you talking about my chest or my height over there?" At that point, Elisabeth couldn't help but cut in. It was a matter of some interest to her. Kaito leaped in place. "Oh God, she could hear us." Hina cheerfully raised her arm up high. "Your height!" "Very well, then!" "Huh? Wait, but if Elisabeth grows as tall as Hina, won't that make me the shortest one? This is bull." Kaito began quietly grumbling. Elisabeth considered poking fun at him but quickly thought better of it. She didn't want Hina scolding her and telling her that it wasn't nice to tease guys about their height. And besides, this was no time for snark, not when she still didn't know what was going on. Elisabeth turned back to the earthenware pot. Its lid seemed to have a sort of larger-than-life presence. EAT ME, it was saying. This is what appeared in the silver bowl's place... Elisabeth reached out again, but this time, she actually took off the top. When she did, the jiggly yellow purin within came into view. With the lid removed, the sweet smell of milk, eggs, and sugar was free to permeate the air unobstructed. Kaito and Hina started loudly chattering. "Hey, looks like it came out pretty all right." "Just what I'd expect from you, Master Kaito! Your powers of creation rival even God's!" For some reason, hearing that comment filled Elisabeth with annoyance. That aside, though, purin was food. A dessert. That was an undeniable fact. And as such, it would be absurd for her not to eat it. She slowly picked up her spoon and plunged it into the purin's soft surface, scooping up a spoonful that was syrupy and droopy on the sides. Its texture was as splendid as always. She carefully lifted it up. Then she popped it in her mouth. "Hey, she ate it." "Hooray!" "Mm, mm, mm, mmph." What Elisabeth had tried to say was Why are you two getting excited? Due to the spoon in her mouth, though, the words came out all muffled. This time, she could taste it like normal, and its sweet flavor filled her mouth. The dish had a full-bodied aroma, just as it was supposed to. Its deliciousness had a rustic simplicity to it, yet at the same time, the way it melted in her mouth was unlike anything else she'd ever eaten. It was hard to believe that such a sublime dish had come from such a foolish servant. Now that she thought about it, though, she remembered that purin was the only thing Kaito had been able to make properly. Wait, had been? Not was? Elisabeth raised an eyebrow a smidgen. However, she didn't let her discomfort stop her from moving her spoon. For whatever reason, Kaito and Hina were watching her with bated breath. She couldn't exactly stop now. Eventually, the spoon met the bottom of the pot. With great vigor, Elisabeth scraped up the final bite. "Ooooh." "Aaaaah." "As I said, what in the world is it that you two find so riveting about this?" When Elisabeth shot her quip at them, though, they responded with a round of applause. They clearly weren't listening to a word she said. It defied explanation. However, it was also kind of nice. She held her spoon up and struck a proud pose. When she looked back down at the mouthful of purin atop the spoon, though, she froze. Sitting on the smooth utensil— —there was something small and white. "...A rabbit?" A white rabbit. The white rabbit had a matter-of-fact look on its face, and it was carrying a pocket watch. Both of the watch's hands, long and short, were pointing straight at twelve. And Elisabeth knew. The appointed time had come long, long ago. Days gone past would never return. And though the rabbit didn't look like it was talking, it was. It opened its mouth wide— —and from inside, darkness came— —Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down Down. Down. Alice fell down a very deep hole. "Welcome, Elisabeth. Welcome to Wonderland." Elisabeth could hear a young girl. She was saying something about "Wonderland." But Elisabeth couldn't see a thing. Everything around her was pitch-black. Lying on her back, Elisabeth cast her gaze in every direction. No matter which way she turned, though, all she was met with was a dark that never seemed to end. The blackness had an oddly stuffy quality to it. It was as though she were surrounded by heavy cloth, like the kind that kept stage wings hidden from the audience. But right when Elisabeth began pondering her situation in earnest, she heard a thump on the floor. The wooden floorboards creaked. Then the noise repeated itself, eventually developing into a sort of pitter-patter. 'Tis the sound of someone running. Specifically, a child's footsteps. They were innocently running laps around Elisabeth. Suddenly, though, she could hear the heels snap together. The resultant silence was nigh deafening. Elisabeth heard someone exhale, then rattle off a quote that sounded like a monologue from a play. "After all that bouncing around, it's finally time for my debut, Elisabeth! Now, what act is this again? I haven't the faintest, you see. But neither do you, right? In fact, things have gone so far off the rails that nobody, not the actors or the director or even the playwright, can really tell what's going on. And you're also a spectator, so that goes double for you. Say, Elisabeth, isn't it sad? Even here, you're oh-so-very sad... No, actually, maybe that's wrong. After all, this isn't a tragedy so much as it is a farce... Wait, Father, where are we going? Huh? 'This isn't our place to appear,' you say? 'We weren't called for, so we should stand down'? You're ever so kind, Father... Hmm? Wait, hey, don't leave me behind! Wait for me!" With a peeved cry, the girl pitter-pattered off, then leaped. Right above her, the sound of someone's joints snapping sounded out, and the echo of the girl's footsteps vanished. It would seem that she was dangling off someone's shoulder. The other party's clothes rustled a little as they set off. A short while later, Elisabeth heard a door open in the distance, then close. Silence descended on her once more. Who were those people just now? She didn't know. What she did know, though— —was that she didn't trust them one bit. "And then just when you thought the still darkness would go on forever..." "...Hmm?" "...someone showed up with an incongruous hello, hello, hello!" Elisabeth cocked her head. She could hear someone saying something stupid. There was obviously someone new present in the murk. However, she couldn't see anyone. She strained her eyes and cautiously scanned the darkness. Sure enough, one section of it had an oddly "occupied" feel to it. Yet I never heard any footsteps. It was like they had manifested out of thin air. She frowned. However, her concern went unnoticed by her mysterious guest. Intentional or not, they let out a merry cry. "All righty then, Madam Elisabeth! Time to wake up, hey, hey, hey!" "Wake...up? No, hold on, I'm—" "Up—and—at 'emmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!" "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" A shout that sounded like some sort of strange bird echoed through the air. Sensing danger, Elisabeth leaped to her feet, then rolled forward and opened her eyes. After, she shot a glance backward. Behind her, there was a scaly leg with gleaming claws resting atop a crack in the stone floor. The force of the kick had split open the ground where she'd been just moments ago. The perpetrator of this powerful attack let out a small breath. However, that wasn't to say Elisabeth actually saw them do so. The thing was, their entire mouth was hidden by the darkness beneath their hood. The man, concealed from head to toe in a tattered cloak, struck a pose. "Phew... That there was my Butcher's Knockout Alarm-Clock Kick—and brilliantly executed, if I do say so myself!" "You never possessed any such technique!" Elisabeth couldn't help but shout back at the top of her lungs. The Butcher just stood there with his bag on his shoulder and his finger pointing at the sky. It was unclear if he'd even heard her. She turned toward his majestic back and gave him a piece of her mind. "And besides, was your aim to wake me or to kill me?! The latter makes the former quite a challenge, I'll have you know! You're inscrutable, illogical, and baffling to boot! Cough, cough." "Willing to even sacrifice your throat to deliver cutting jabs and comebacks... You never fail to impress, Madam Elisabeth. You're an artist through and through." "And don't go accusing people of bizarre forms of artistry, either! Cough, cough, cough." Elisabeth lapsed into a heavy fit of coughing. It had been quite a while since the last time she strained her voice that much. Before her, a nostalgic figure—the Butcher—hopped up and down in an excessive show of good cheer. Elisabeth sat cross-legged

and decided to stop paying so much heed to his antics. The bare stone floor was cold on her legs. Curious as to where she was, she glanced around. It was a small, cramped room with little in the way of furniture save for the bed beside her. The bed had a simple design but was high-quality all the same. Over on the stone wall, there were magically reinforced knives embedded in a map. It was a room she was well familiar with. After all, it was the Torture Princess's own bedroom. Instead of the bed, though, she seemed to have been lying atop the floor. "Why am I down here? Or no, rather...what exactly is going on?" "Hyah!" "Hmm?" All of a sudden, the Butcher leaped. Elisabeth watched him as he landed on the wall, scuttled across it, and plucked a knife out from the map. He then landed back on the floor, pulled an apple from his sleeve, and began peeling it. There clearly hadn't been any actual need for him to crawl across the wall. Elisabeth gave him a skeptical glance. "Peel, p-peel peel, peel peel peel." "...What exactly do you think you're doing?" "Hoh-hoh-hoh, I'm peeling an apple." "Well, yes, I can see that." "Your cough got me worried, Madam Elisabeth! And so I thought, why not serve you this delicious, juicy apple?! And for dessert, I can make you some meat!" "You seem to have your dessert and your entrée switched up there." Elisabeth was starting to tire of having to play the straight man. The Butcher gave her a wordless thumbs-up. In translation, that probably meant Exactly! The skepticism in Elisabeth's glance grew, and silence descended on them. Round and round the apple went in the Butcher's hand as he peeled it. The long strip of red skin traced a path through the air that seemed almost preordained. As she watched it wind like a snake, Elisabeth let out a quiet murmur. "Say, Butcher." "What is it, Madam Elisabeth? Ah, could it be that you'd like me to cut it into a bunny shape for you?" "Why? Why betray us?" The skin snapped. However, its descent was cut short. As the red peel fluttered in a downward spiral, the Butcher snagged it by the end. He spun it like he was playing with a toy, its red exterior and white interior turning and turning and turning again. "...It doesn't mean much, asking that 'here' and 'now.'" His voice was a soft whisper. Strangely, though, his tone was calm. He continued rotating the apple skin as he went on. "Asking 'me' is no different from turning to a mirror and asking your own reflection. Asking yourself a question meant for another will leave you forever seeking a reply, and asking yourself a question with no right answer is the first step toward having your heart break for good... I agonized over the same thing myself, you know. Why did she appoint me as her apostle?" "...Butcher." Round and round the spiral turned. Then out of the blue, the Butcher released it, then dropped the apple itself in turn. Its bare white flesh spun slowly as it drifted through the air, silently passing through the space that was separating Elisabeth and the Butcher. He was standing on the other side of that apple. Elisabeth directed a faint smile at that hidden face of his. "That was a falsehood, no?" "How very right. Or at least, just 'not a truth'... I'm sure even you realize, Madam Elisabeth—the 'real me' never agonized over anything of the sort." "Probably not, no... No, you didn't, no doubt. What a repugnant thought. You didn't even bother thinking; you just accepted your lot as a sacrificial pawn. Idiot." With zero warning, Elisabeth stuck out her arm and snatched the falling apple out of the air. Then with a chomp, she bit into it and began violently chewing its flesh. The Butcher said nothing. Elisabeth kept eating, spitting out seeds as she went. The small black lumps fell to the floor. Then she wiped her juice-covered mouth. "Why, you might well be the biggest idiot I know. What kind of fool spreads seeds of evil through the world he claims to love so dearly?" "This kind of fool, I suppose. I'm not proud of it, you know. But 'in their heart of hearts, everyone has just one thing that truly matters to them,' so it's not like I had much choice in the matter." The Butcher quietly nodded. Elisabeth clicked her tongue as she ruminated on his words. "In their heart of hearts, everyone has just one thing that truly matters to them." It sounded as though they'd come from someone else. When she finished eating the apple, she tossed its core over her shoulder. It smacked into the wall and fell to the floor. After turning to face the Butcher once more, she narrowed her eyes in irritation. "And one more thing. About me." "Yes? What might that be?" "I think I've come to understand." "Come to understand what, might I ask?" The Butcher cocked his head. Elisabeth closed her eyes and turned her gaze upward. Then she shifted her weight and collapsed back into empty space. But before she could fall, her head struck something. She was reclining against something hard, smooth, and cold. "What 'this world' is." The Butcher offered her no response. Even with her eyes closed, Elisabeth knew. He was gone— —nowhere to been seen. Tick, tock... Tick-tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Ti-ti-ti-ti— Creeeeeee— —eeeak! "...For in short, that is what your existence amounts to." As Elisabeth finished her murmur, she sat up straight and slowly opened her eyes. As she expected, there were two people smiling before her. "Oh hey, Elisabeth's up." "And a very good morning to you, Lady Elisabeth! Did you sleep well?" "Kaito. Hina." She was back in the dining hall. She realized now that she was sitting atop a cabriole-legged chair. As for the other two, Kaito was standing on a wooden stepladder, and Hina was holding it steady. For whatever reason, they seemed to be decorating the walls. After Kaito finished sticking some ribbons up by the ceiling, Hina passed him a handful of artificial flowers. The way they looked working together was so sickeningly adorable, Elisabeth could hardly bear to watch. She shot them a question. "So what in the world are you two doing?" "Huh? We're getting ready for your third-year anniversary party as captain of the Peace Brigade—what else?" "Master Kaito wanted to surprise you, and I was in full support!" "Yes, well, that's all very nice, Hina. But it hardly seems like much of a surprise if you do the preparations in front of me, does it?" "I mean, you're not wrong." "In fact, I would go so far as to say that Lady Elisabeth is right." Kaito and Hina crossed their arms contemplatively. Hina aside, it was odd not having Kaito play the straight man. As a collective married unit, though, they definitely fell on the other end of that particular spectrum. Elisabeth pondered how best to respond. After giving the matter some thought, Kaito finally spoke. "But at the end of the day, you wouldn't want us decorating the dining hall and inviting people over without your say-so, right?" "Aye, that would be a problem indeed." Elisabeth nodded. It was a legitimate concern. Plus, if he hadn't checked in ahead of time, there was a risk that Elisabeth would be busy meeting with an envoy from the Church or something on the day of the event. Kaito had clearly put some thought into the matter. However, Elisabeth cocked her head anyway. "Wait, you said something about guests? It's not just you two—you invited others?" "Hey, this is a big deal! It's been three whole years since you got a job besides just fighting demons! We even handwrote invitations and everything." "Don't worry, Lady Elisabeth, you won't have to do a thing! Hospitality is a specialty of mine! Plus, we made sure to stock the wine cellar beforehand, and I prepared plenty of food!" "My my, it's so lively in here. Look at you all, innocent as babes. I must say, I'm impressed with your ability to maintain such dogged interest in this world." Suddenly, Elisabeth heard a deep voice that was as smooth as butter. She frowned. As Kaito fiddled with the artificial flowers' placement, he fired a casual response back. "Vlaaad? You being snide over there?" "Perish the thought! This is sarcasm, snide's softer cousin!" Elisabeth jerked her head to the left. Sitting brazenly beside her was a man dressed in an aristocratic coat. His was a face she'd seen not long ago. Elisabeth wrung a strained question out of her throat. "And what exactly are you doing here, you lout?" "Ha-ha-ha! I wasn't expecting a warm reception by any means, but even so, that's quite the cold shoulder you're giving me, my dear. The fact of the matter is, here is where I am. There's little to be done for it." "No, but why—?" "Come now, think about it. I've always been an obstinate one, if I do say so myself. Even death wasn't enough to get rid of me. And that's why I'm still here—because that's the way you perceive me. You understand what I'm getting at, I assume?" Vlad shrugged. After a short silence, Elisabeth nodded. In other words, that was just the kind of person she saw him as. She slumped back in her chair. "I see. Then I suppose that's that, then." "So it is. It's not like I'm here by choice, after all. Like it or not, here I am... I will remind you, though, that the world of man is full of pointless trivialities. Enjoying them is what makes us human. Our species' very existence is rooted in absurdity." "See, now you're just spouting nonsense." "Ha-ha. I see you won't be tricked quite so easily. You're a sharp one, my precious. If my dear successor were in your place, I'd have you fooled backward and forward by now. He really could stand to be a bit more of a skeptic." "I can hear you, y'know," Kaito grumbled in annoyance. Now that he had finished putting up the fake flowers, he started descending the stepladder. Halfway down, though, he stopped in place and glanced at Hina. She was standing expectantly by with her arms spread wide. Without missing a beat, Kaito leaped into them. She caught him and spun him round and round. As always, the pair never missed a chance to flirt. "Ha-ha-ha, Hina, Hinaaaaa!" "Hee-hee-hee, Master Kaito, Master Kaitooooo!" "By the way, those two have been like that this whole time, so it's taken them ages to get anything done." "Aye, I don't doubt it for a moment." "Expected as it may be, I must say, it's a most inefficient way of working. And I'm not sayin' that 'cause I'm jealous or anything, mind you!" The voice that rang out seemed somehow puppetlike, yet at the same time, it was strangely obnoxious. Elisabeth looked up. Long, honey-blond hair fluttered at the entrance to the dining hall. It would seem that the first guest— —had arrived a little early. The girl—Jeanne de Rais—had a golden beauty to her. Elisabeth glanced her over from top to bottom. Then she nodded and spoke in dispassionate tone. "...Jeanne. It's a trivial thing, I'll admit, but this is ostensibly a banquet. Could you not have come in normal clothes or, at the very least, covered a bit more skin up?" "You say 'normal,' but to me, this outfit is normal. And besides, isn't your outfit much the same as mine? You look just as much like a flasher as I do, lady!" "See, you're even aware that you look like a flasher. Go and get yourself dressed up a little." Jeanne was wearing the same obscene bondage dress as always. Only mages

possessed garments woven from pure magic like that, but even in the Capital, it was highly irregular for them to wear it when they weren't on duty. Jeanne did have a point, though. Elisabeth's outfit had a bit more cloth to it than hers, but on the whole, they were still exceedingly similar. That said, this was Elisabeth's castle—even she had the decorum to put on a regular dress when she headed out in public. As such, she decided to ignore her own hypocrisy. Jeanne crossed her arms in annoyance. "I must say, that really isn't any of your business. And besides, I came not as a guest but to help set up. C'mon, anyone coulda figured out that those two dumb-asses would be wasting the day away gigglin' and gagglin' at each other! And plus, callin' this a banquet? Get off your fuckin' high horse!" "Dressing up—now there's an idea. I think that's a wonderful suggestion." Suddenly, a dignified voice cut in. Jeanne froze, then quickly straightened her posture. Footsteps could be heard echoing from the entrance to the dining hall. When Elisabeth cast her gaze in that direction once more, she was greeted with the sight of an alabaster beauty. The comforting voice continued: "After all, Jeanne, it would be a shame to waste that beauty of yours. I'm sure you would look stunning in a formal dress... We did leave separately, but even so, it was my oversight as well. Next time, I'll be sure to get you something nice to wear." "Yes. No. Yes." "Well, don't go panicking, now." Elisabeth tried to calm Jeanne down, but it was clearly an exercise in futility. Jeanne wasn't very familiar with the subtleties of her own emotions, and her romantic experience was more or less nonexistent. In other words, having her first love, Izabella Vicker, say something like that to her had proven instantly lethal. As Izabella took her spot by Jeanne's still-frozen side, Kaito and Hina finally noticed their new visitors. "Hmm?" "Oh?" The two of them had stopped spinning a little while ago. Still holding each other tight, they looked up in unison. Kaito let out an excited shout. "Jeanne, Izabella, you made it! And so early, too!" "Of course. We would hardly turn away such an invitation, much less coming from you. But we owe all three of you a great debt; it hardly feels right being treated as guests. If you don't mind, I'd love to help out however I can. But first, Hi—rather, Mrs. Sena, this is for you." "Oh, what lovely flowers! That's so thoughtful of you!" "I do hope they're to your liking. I'm glad I could do my part to add some color to the banquet." Izabella offered Hina the bouquet she was holding, and Hina took it with a warm smile. It was composed of lilies paired with a new type of flower bred by the beastfolk, and they were arranged in a beautiful silver-and-white composition. Their thin stems were adorned with countless little florets that shone like stars. As Hina buried the tip of her nose in the bouquet, Izabella smiled gently. "Ah, it sets off your lovely hair just the way I hoped it would. I imagine it would look nice next to Elisabeth's dark hair, too." "Hey! Izabella! Quit trying to seduce my wife!" Izabella and Hina stared blankly at Kaito. A moment later, Hina's face went bright red. Words spilled out of her lips as fast as her mouth could make them. "O-oh, no, no, no, I'm sure Ms. Izabella didn't have any such intentions, and even if she did, my gears would fall out and stop before I fell for anyone other than you, but even so, Master Kaito, were you being jealous just now? Was that jealousy? Eek! Thank you, God, for this blessing! My heart's beating so hard that it feels like it might become an inferno that turns all creation to ash!" "Th-this is a misunderstanding, Sir Kaito! I wasn't doing anything of the sort! It's not just your wife—I do this for all sorts of people! To comfort wounded knights, and to welcome new recruits! And besides, I thought they would set off your strong-willed eyes as well!" As Hina wriggled and squirmed with glee, Izabella hurriedly explained herself. Kaito couldn't help but massage his temples. Satisfied with her answer, he nodded. "All right, I get what's going on now... You've got, like, bucket-loads of secret admirers among the other paladins, don't you?" "Wh-what? Secret admirers?" "Yeah, I figure you've got plenty of guys and girls who're totally head over heels for you," he continued. "H-head over heels?" Elisabeth nodded in agreement. "Aye, I concur. I can picture it with remarkable ease." "Right?" Kaito quipped. Elisabeth thought about it. Over the years, the Church had been home to more than its fair share of corruption, and on top of that, many paladins had lost their lives in the battles against the Torture Princess and Vlad's demon army. How beautiful must their young commander have looked, carrying out her duties amid all that madness? Plus, not only did she comport herself with dignity and grace, but the frank manner in which she spoke also made it easy for people to fall for her as well. If you excluded the reconstruction sect, her approval rating among the paladins was probably through the roof. And that wasn't even getting into the other exceptional someone whom she had head over heels for her. "And I gotta say, there's something really cool about an attractive woman dressed in a sharp— Ow, ow, ow!" "How rude. Please revise that." Jeanne, the golden Torture Princess and Exhibit A of people who were head over heels for Izabella, reached over and grabbed Kaito by the hair knot. Her expression was downright sullen. Izabella, for her part, was still flustered from the earlier exchange. Just as Kaito was in the middle of saying, Izabella was dressed to the nines. Instead of her usual armor, she was wearing a slender dress suit. Its white jacket and trousers were designed to be worn by a woman, but they also would have looked just as spiffy on a man as well, a fact that accentuated Izabella's androgynous appeal. She was a beauty through and through. However, Kaito didn't get a chance to finish his compliment. He frantically apologized as Jeanne pulled harder and harder on his hair. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow... J-Jeanne, you gotta tone down the bloodlust back there! It was my bad, okay! I know she's your first love and all, and I probably said too much... Ow, ow, ow!" "I'm just glad you understand, mister. That saves us both quite a lot of time. You know what you gotta say now, don'cha?" By the time she was done speaking, Jeanne's tone had grown downright murderous. Cold sweat trickled down Kaito's back. That said, they were in front of both Izabella and Hina, so there was probably a limit to how bad things could get. As far as Elisabeth went, though, the only help she offered was warmly noting, "You seem to be in quite a pinch." Kaito raised his hands in surrender. "Uh, I...I'm sorry?" "No. I'm not looking for an apology. Like always, your head's as full of mush as a cat in a sunbeam! Just cotton and fuzz from one ear to the next!" "Wait, then...what?" "Hmm," added Elisabeth. "I haven't the slightest, either." "Elisabeth, you know I'm your servant, right? So when I'm in danger, you're supposed to come help me." "Not my problem, best of luck, et cetera, et cetera." Elisabeth's reply was decidedly aloof. Suddenly, Kaito noticed that Hina and Izabella had wandered off to get a vase for the flowers before they could wilt. If he had been in any actual danger, Hina would have intervened long ago. In other words, he didn't need to fear for his life at the moment. Well, probably. Jeanne curled the corners of her mouth ever so slightly as she spoke. "Are you listening, mister? I'll only say this once. So clean out that shit in your ears and listen up!" "I'm listening, I'm listening!" "My fair lady..." Jeanne took a deep breath, a rare human mannerism for the golden Torture Princess to display. Kaito, Elisabeth, and even Vlad listened intently. Then Jeanne spoke with barely concealed fervor. "...isn't just cool, but adorable. Adorable, I tells ya!" "Wait, that's it? That's the bit you wanted me to revise?" "Also, why repeat it twice?" Elisabeth asked. "I suppose she thought it was just that important," Vlad replied. The three of them were all well and truly bewildered. Jeanne, expressionless as ever, bobbed her head up and down. Apparently, that was enough to satisfy her. At some point, she had also released Kaito's hair. Grateful for that stroke of fortune, Kaito beat a hasty retreat. That was when it happened. "Huh?" A black blur— —shot toward him like a bullet. "Up—and—at 'emmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!" "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" A shout that sounded like some sort of strange bird echoed through the air. Then the black blur—that is, the hunk of bone-in meat—smashed directly into Kaito's face. Fearing an enemy raid, Izabella reached for the rapier hanging from her waist. However, her puzzlement quickly won out over her concern. People didn't normally use bone-in meat for launching surprise attacks, after all. The force of the blow nearly caused Kaito to topple over, but Hina quickly rushed over and caught him from behind. After gently lowering his head down onto her lap, she spoke indignantly. "Come on now, Mr. Butcher, you can't attack Master Kaito by surprise like that! I'm very close to being quite cross with you!" "Wait, why're you giving me a lap pillow?" "Hello, hello, hello, Ms. Lovely Maid! My deepest apologies! I was just so giddy about being invited to this banquet, I couldn't help myself! Hello, hello, hello, Madam Elisabeth!" "Quite," Elisabeth replied. "Oh yes, and congratulations on your third-year anniversary as whatsit of the Something-Something Brigade!" "Why is it that your attention to detail always fails at the most inopportune times?" Elisabeth grumbled. Meanwhile, Kaito shook off the shock from being struck by the raw meat and made to sit up. As he did, though, his gaze met Hina's, and he stopped in place. Then the two of them exchanged a loving embrace. Elisabeth and Vlad offered up some bemused commentary. "No, but...why?" "It's nice that they get along so well, I suppose, but it does seem to be getting in the way of the rest of their lives." Meanwhile, the Butcher spun like a top and made his way into the dining hall proper. Upon reaching the table, though, he came to an abrupt stop. He looked up at Vlad and went silent for a little bit. After reconsidering the matter, though, he gave him a big thumbs-up. "And a fine hello to you as well, Sir Vlad!" "After contemplating as best you could how to act toward me, that's what you ended up with? I think we can dispense with this strained geniality. I'm a more tolerant man than I look, but even I have my limits." Vlad smiled cheerfully as he rested his chin on his hands and elegantly crossed his legs. In contrast to his demeanor, though, his voice dripped with outright hostility. On hearing their exchange, Elisabeth was reminded of something. That's right—Vlad and the Butcher share a karmic bond. The Butcher was the one who'd given Vlad the First Demon's meat. However, that, too, had been part of the Saint's plan, and during Ragnarok, Vlad had made no secret of his fury at having been used as a pawn. I know not how they met, nor how their relationship developed from there. But Vlad clearly didn't appreciate being used. I've no doubt he harbors harsh feelings toward the Butcher. On hearing Vlad's comment, the Butcher lowered his hand. However, it would appear that he

planned to just pretend like he hadn't heard anything. Instead, he whistled and meandered away. After making his way over to Hina, he quickly hid behind her back. When he spoke next, it was from the shadow of her maid outfit. "Ah, that reminds me! On my way here, I spotted a group who looked to be guests as well! I imagine they'll be here any moment!" "There are guests yet to come? Who?" Elisabeth furrowed her brow. However, her answer arrived quicker than she expected. Down the hall, she could make out a group of boisterous voices. "Vice-Captain Lute...I know it's a bit late to be asking this, but are you really sure it's all right for us to let ourselves in?" "As far as Sir Kaito told me, it should be fine. Although I must admit, I didn't expect for us to get chased by a walking suit of armor the moment we came inside... Now, I think it was somewhere around...here?" "Lute!" "Sir Kaito! Madam Hina! Captain Elisabeth!" Kaito sat up from his spot on Hina's lap, and Lute let out a cry of delight. He ran over, and the two of them exchanged a light fist bump—a symbol, perhaps, of how beastfolk-human relations had improved over the past years. Kaito thanked him for showing up. "I'm so glad you could make it! Wasn't it hard on you, having everyone take the day off at once?" "Ha-ha-ha, not in the least. Our Lady Valisisa Ula Forstlast's magnanimity knows no bounds! And besides, there aren't nearly as many incidents these days as there were three years ago. Taking a day off like this is nothing! And that, too, is thanks to our captain's undying efforts." The rest of the Peace Brigade members nodded in agreement. Despite their praise, though, Elisabeth frowned. The image of a regal beastfolk woman flashed through her mind. "Valisisa Ula Forstlast..." The name carried a heavy nostalgia with it. It would appear that Valisisa was in good health, and La Christoph was probably carrying out his duties in the Capital like normal as well, praying and believing in God while accepting the love of the people. Elisabeth closed her mouth without finishing her sentence. Her Peace Brigade subordinates let out cries of relief at having finally found the dining hall. It was clear that they'd gotten lost in the castle's vast corridors. After a few of them handed Hina small gifts as thanks for inviting them, they all got to work removing their armor, revealing the layered formal wear beneath. Each of their chests was decorated with colorful tail feathers. Even in times of peace, it was exceedingly rare for a beastfolk soldier to take off their armor. It was a sign of their utmost trust in the castle's owner. They lined up in front of Elisabeth and saluted. However, they then paused. "Um...Captain?" "I've a fair guess at what you wish to ask, but go on, say it." "Is there somewhere you'd like us to put these gifts?" The beastfolk gestured to the packages they were all carrying. Some were wrapped bundles of cloth, and others were covered baskets, but every one of them was impressively large. Still seated, Elisabeth let out a small sigh. "This isn't a child's birthday party, you know. I appreciate the sentiment, aye, but surely, there was no need to bring that much! 'Tis excessive!" "We're sorry, Captain... We just got to thinking about how much you always like to eat, and we got a little carried away." "Wait...you mean to say... That isn't all food, is it?" Elisabeth reflexively leaned forward in her chair. The Brigade members meekly nodded. "Just what kind of image is it you have of me?!" she cried, turning her gaze up toward the ceiling. Then she felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked to her side. There, she saw a beastwoman with a goat head. "I'm sorry for interrupting your lament, but might I have a moment, Madam Elisabeth?" "Ain? What is it?" Ain, Lute's talented wife, was wearing a modest gray dress. She gestured with her chin. Elisabeth looked and discovered that Kaito and Lute were surreptitiously peeking their way. Ain lowered her voice. "Just now, Sir Kaito and my husband came to me with a request. It's a special occasion, so they were really hoping that all the women would dress up. I'm here to help with that. Do you have a wardrobe room somewhere?" "Hold on. Jeanne is one thing, but they want me to change, too? What a pain." "Everyone's gotten on board, even me," replied Jeanne. "As the star of the show, what are you waiting for? If you don't get ready, nothing can start, and nothing can end. The thing is, see, I gotta go get changed so a certain lovely lady'll tell me I look cute! Get a move on!" "I see it didn't take much to win you over." Nobody could have possibly imagined that the self-proclaimed "oppressor of slaves, the savior of the world, the saint, and the whore" would ever get so thoroughly domesticated. Elisabeth sighed in exasperation. A thought crossed her mind. If I don't get ready, nothing can start, and nothing can end, eh? There was some truth to that. Elisabeth nodded, and her heels clicked as she set off. Accompanied by Ain and Jeanne, she headed out into the corridor. The moment she left the dining hall, it went dead silent. It was as though nobody had even been there in the first place. However, Elisabeth pretended not to notice that. Tick, tock... Tick-tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Ti-ti-ti-ti— —ti...tick...? Of the castle's many rooms, one of them was where Elisabeth kept various garments. Inside, it was a veritable sea of cloth. There were whites as white as snow, blacks as black as night, reds as red as roses, and blues as blue as the sky. Processed fabrics of every quality and texture had been haphazardly shoved inside. The room seemed to go on forever, yet at the same time, it felt as cramped as a box of sweets. Either way, though, it was an odd state of affairs. The thing was, Elisabeth didn't own anywhere near that many dresses. In fact, the wardrobe room had originally held mostly outfits for her servants. At that point, though, an irregularity that minor hardly even warranted notice. After all, nothing about the situation— —could be described as anything approaching normal. Hina hadn't accompanied them to the wardrobe room. Because of how early the guests had arrived, she was still in the middle of setting the table. Lute and the rest of the beastfolk had offered their services and were helping carry various plates to and fro. As she directed them around, Hina had offered Elisabeth a wave. Her warm smile was the last thing Elisabeth had seen before departing the area. Now Elisabeth was facing off against a seemingly endless assortment of dresses. Beside her, Jeanne let out a faint murmur. "Man, I ain't got a fuckin' clue what to pick." "Hey now, best not omit the polite bits entirely." Elisabeth shot Jeanne a warning. If Izabella were there to hear her, she'd probably have gotten upset and scolded Jeanne for her foul language. However, Jeanne proceeded to cock her head to the side. It would appear she actually didn't know what would be best to pick. Ain took that as her cue to briskly step forward. She spread her arms with the mountain of clothes laid out behind her. "Now then... It looks like answer is no, but I'll ask anyway—do either of you have anything specific in mind?" "No. I'm up shit creek here, lady! How the hell does everyone else pick out their own clothes like it's nothing?!" "I haven't anywhere near the patience to look through that mass. I'm more than happy to delegate the selection to you. I'd prefer something extravagant, though, with bold lines and clean cuts." "Ah...something to my lady's preference would be nice, actually." "Something flashy and something trim, then. Very well. One moment." Ain strode forward, her expression as composed as ever. The other two watched as she descended into the sea of cloth. It was like a fish vanishing into a wave, or perhaps a honeybee slipping into a rose. The soft folds of fabric conformed to her shape, then went still again. Elisabeth and Jeanne waited in solemn silence. A few minutes later, the two of them shared a quiet exchange. "...This is taking quite a while." "It really is. Fuckin' hell." "Sorry about the wait." Ain popped her head out of an opening in the mass of dresses. Elisabeth and Jeanne practically leaped out of their skin. Just as promised, she was holding a pair of dresses. The other two each took their proffered item. Elisabeth turned hers inside out, then nodded. "Aye, not bad." "Yes, mine looks good as well. I'm gonna be the belle of the goddamn ball!" Jeanne seemed to have taken quite a liking to hers. The main dress was golden, and it was adorned with a number of pieces of faintly gleaming cloth, which were layered atop it. On its back sat a ribbon in the shape of a flower. And as for Elisabeth's dress, it was black with crimson highlights and had suggestive openings on its sides. Upon seeing their expressions, Ain nodded. "Now, finding those took a good deal of time, so let's be nimble and quick about getting you into them." "You know, I can't help but think..." "Yes, me too. I've got a baaad feelin' about this." Elisabeth and Jeanne were no strangers to corsets and tightened belts. Even so, though, the way the skilled healer in front of them looked to be itching to go was enough to strike fear into both of their hearts. But it was Ain's next words, and the unsettlingly cheerful tone she said them in, that truly sealed the deal. "You're both in good health, but I can see you've let that keep you from learning to take proper care of your bodies. Let's see if we can't get those joints moving a little." The two of them were both Torture Princesses. As such, chirotherapy was a sensation yet unknown to them. Elisabeth and Jeanne tried frantically to flee. Before they could get far, though, Ain snatched Jeanne by the shoulder, and Jeanne replied by quickly grabbing Elisabeth's wrist in kind. "H-hey, Jeanne! Don't get me wrapped up in this! Unhand me!" "Never! If I'm goin' down, you're comin' down with me!" "Making more victims is never the answer!" "Don't worry," Ain reassured them. "When it starts hurting, just raise your left hand." "By that phrasing, you make it sound as though pain is a presumption!" "W-wait, no, I—I said 'wait,' goddammiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" Jeanne's shrill cry echoed across the sea of cloth. The two Torture Princesses both let out rare screams, then were quickly silenced. Tick, tock... Tick-tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Ti-ti-ti-ti— ...Tick? T-tick? "I-I've never been through such a harrowing experience in all my days." "So much clicking and clacking and snapping and popping... Who knew bones could even bend like that?" "Now, I hope this will serve as a reminder to the both of you to take regular care of your bodies. If I don't see some improvement, next time is going to have to involve a medicinal bath." "Heavens, woman, what do you intend on doing to us next? What more could you possibly ask of our poor bodies?" Elisabeth and Jeanne clung to each other and trembled. Ain's nails were sharp, but her fingers were nimble enough to perform all sorts of minute movements. Never before had the two of them cursed the beastfolk's digital evolution so much. "Welcome back! Oh, Lady Elisabeth, Ms. Jeanne, you look splendid! Those dresses fit you so well! They're splendid! Lady Elisabeth, you're like a gleaming jewel! And, Ms. Jeanne, you're like a

lovely little flower! If the world could speak, it would boast of both your beauties to all creation!" "Mmm, 'tis a most pleasant way to be complimented." Hina hopped up and down before Elisabeth like an excitable puppy. Elisabeth nodded. That alone made all the strain and suffering she'd endured worth it. Kaito, who was in the middle of carrying a set of wine bottles with Lute and the others, stopped in his tracks. Then he rushed over to Elisabeth and let out a cry of astonishment. "Hey, that looks nice on you! See, I told you it'd be good to try wearing a normal dress every now and again." "Your compliment is perfunctory at best. I give it failing marks." "Why?! I said you look nice!" he shot back, flustered. At present, Elisabeth's slender frame was clad all in black, with her two arms bare at her sides. Her collar was so low that it exposed her collarbone, and she had a crimson shawl draped around her neck. She looked bewitching, yet at the same time, strangely ephemeral. "You think a pedestrian word like nice is sufficient to capture the entirety of my refined beauty? Why don't you try that again until you get it right?" "Hey, having self-confidence is great and all, but you gotta cut me some slack." "See, I knew it would look good on you!" Then Elisabeth and Kaito heard a delighted cry. They looked over at its source. Izabella was standing in front of Jeanne, who was standing stiff as a board, and nodding repeatedly. Izabella scooped up a tuft of her full, honey-blond hair in her gloved hand. "It's just as I thought—a maidenly dress like this truly brings out your beauty. It's so sweet, so charming. And the color goes perfectly with your hair!" *** "Oh hey, I guess we finally figured out how to get her to be quiet," Kaito commented. "See, what Izabella gave there was a model compliment. Try taking a lesson from her," Elisabeth replied. "Wouldn't that sound kinda creepy coming from me?" "...Ah, true enough." Elisabeth nodded deeply, and Hina hopped up and down in front of her. "That's not true at all! The enchanting words that Master Kaito spins with his honeyed voice are always the finest there can be! Lessons are useless for him because he's been unmatched at compliments since the day he was born! Hmph!" "Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Hina. You're the cutest, just like always." Kaito wrapped Hina in a tight embrace to calm her down. Meanwhile, Izabella took Jeanne by the hand and headed for her seat. The beastfolk, now finished with moving the wine, hurried back to the table as well. Lute theatrically pulled Ain's seat back for her. Vlad hadn't once budged from his seat, and the Butcher was restlessly scattering flower petals around the room. Elisabeth assumed the seat of honor and gazed out over the table. Sitting atop its pearl-gray tablecloth was a fine feast indeed. There was organ pie, a whole roast hen, potherbs of every sort, vegetables in jellies and potages, seafood, myriad desserts, and countless other labor-intensive dishes all arranged in a beautiful spread. And as a finishing touch, the silver and white flowers sat decoratively at their center. Kaito stood by Hina's side, his arm gently wrapped around his wife's back. They leaned toward each other, the very image of bliss, then faced Elisabeth and smiled. "Congrats, Elisabeth. Good work these last three years." "Congratulations on three years well served, Lady Elisabeth." "Aye, thank you. And thank you, everyone, for coming." Elisabeth looked out over the group. All of them were wearing warm smiles on their faces. Kaito and Hina. Izabella and Jeanne. Lute and Ain. Her beastfolk subordinates. The Butcher. Vlad. Everyone was there. How unnaturally convenient. "...Thank you, truly." For a brief moment, Elisabeth closed her eyes. She breathed in a deep breath. Then she clenched her fists and spoke. "Now then, it seems high time..." However, she stopped midsentence. She hesitated, unsure if she should continue. She glanced Kaito's way once more, her gaze strangely reminiscent of a child's. Is this for the best? she was asking him. I'm not making a mistake? But Kaito Sena— —just returned her gaze— —smiling at her like he had once before. And so Elisabeth opened her mouth, emptying her lungs of words and breath alike. To end it all. "...we put this charade to rest!" And in that moment, the world was filled— —with the heavy, heavy ringing of a bell. Creeeeak... Ding-dong... Ding-dong... Ding-dong... Ding-dong Ding— —dong D i n g D o n g There was nothing there. And yet at the same time, there was everything. If one was to describe that place, the most apropos comparison would be to a blank white canvas. Or perhaps a completely black canvas. Nothing meaningful was painted atop it. In other words, one could paint over it to their heart's content. It was empty, and it was free. There was nothing there, yet there was everything. That was where Elisabeth now stood. At the spot that lay after the end and before the beginning. By all accounts, nobody should have been there. Mankind had yet to even be born. However, Elisabeth could sense someone behind her. They were still and silent. Not turning around, Elisabeth spoke in a soft whisper. "I know nothing of this place. And I suspect it isn't just me. Nobody does, save for one exception." The list of people who'd witnessed the blank world before the reconstruction was short. In fact, it had but one name on it—the reconstructor, the one who built the world, who wielded the brush all those lifetimes ago. The Saint. "This scene was formed from your memories, was it not?" "...When did you notice?" "Notice what?" "That the world laid out before you was all just a fabrication." Despite the fact that they were asking a question, the other speaker showed no sign of alarm or confusion. This was an outcome they'd seen coming. Elisabeth looked up at the sky. Everything above her was empty and hollow. There were no clouds, no sun, and no stars. Not even color. It would seem the two of them truly were standing atop the canvas. Below them, it was white, and above them, there was nothing. It was a lonely place. There was no death there. But the world itself had no life. And a world with nothing born unto it was a lonesome place indeed. Elisabeth couldn't help but lower her voice. "Subconsciously? Since the start, I daresay... But it only truly became clear with the Butcher. That man betrayed us, and he had no regrets. There was no reason for him to ever appear before us again. And that was precisely why I created him—as a method to put my confusion into order." In her eyes, that was the role he played. As a person, the Butcher was someone who constantly spouted nonsense yet always held the answers she was looking for. The person behind her didn't reply, leaving Elisabeth's words to echo across the ivory plane. Suddenly, those words materialized, taking on a form as hard and brittle as glass. Then they shattered and vanished into nothing. Even words were alien to a place as empty as this. Like ink spilled in water, they refused to conform, instead getting swept away by some invisible hand. Undeterred by their change, Elisabeth went on. "This place resembles somewhere else—a dream, spun by a demon. Although, granted, that one was a psychological attack, so the nuance differed somewhat. This place uses memories as its base, and each time I grow suspicious of it, it breaks down and builds itself anew. Thus, the world within can remain gentle forevermore. Ha, what an absurdly convenient dream. Why, if the end of days hadn't come, I'd have been executed. Burned at the stake, as was my destiny." Elisabeth clenched her fists. Inside the dream, three years after Ragnarok, everything had fallen into place. Nothing had been lacking, and everything in her life had been good. But no matter how fate had turned, such a world could never really have come to be. "Kaito was there, and Hina. The Butcher was alive. Jeanne, Izabella, my men—they were all there as well, and I worked in the beastfolk lands. How could such a place possibly exist?! 'Tis ridiculous! Utter absurdity! Yet exist it did in there." Elisabeth bit down on her lip, hard. It had used her memories to temporarily bring about an impossible future. It was like a fictitious castle built out of sand. No matter how many times it fell, it would always come back. But because of that, it was a castle that could never hold a permanent form. "A sandcastle by the beach. A stage, repeating the same act again and again. A piece of sugar candy, melting away—'tis too pleasant to be called a nightmare, yet too unsettling to be taken as benevolence. So why? Why call me here?" The figure behind her didn't move. Elisabeth didn't turn. If they wanted her dead, she would be dead. If she had expressed malice, they would likely have lopped off her limbs. However, they just stood motionless, seemingly bewildered by their own actions. And so Elisabeth pressed on. Without so much as looking at her face. "Answer me, Saint." "The thing about...dreams, you see..." The Saint began to answer. Elisabeth closed her eyes as she listened to the woman's strangely childish voice. The Saint went on, as though trying to validate her own intentions. "I felt that...everyone has the right to dream." "How do you mean?" "You bore the burden of the world... Or rather, the people you care about most did. And it fills you with anguish. And so...I, too, would have liked to gaze upon a dream of the time before everything went to ruin." At the end, Elisabeth heard a small gasp. That was the wish the Saint had sealed away deep within her heart. It was an insipid, fleeting wish, to be sure. Eventually, Elisabeth let out a short sigh. "I see. So not quite benevolence, then, but pity. However..." With her eyes still shut, Elisabeth began walking forward into the darkness. After the first step, though, she felt a pair of hands grab her wrist. Those weren't the Saint's fingers. No, it was a sensation so nostalgic, it almost made her tremble—the hands of the two people she loved so much, she couldn't stand it. But Elisabeth knew. Those two would never have stopped her there. They would have wanted her to move forward, even if it meant she had to do so alone. It was cruel, without a doubt. Yet even so... Yet even so. "...I've no need of it. I saw the only dream I need long ago." Once, the Torture Princess saw something beautiful. Two beautiful people. They were people who made the world worth saving. "And I was by their side." Now they were gone. Yet even so, there were some things that would never vanish. And so Elisabeth shook off the shadow of her memories and walked. Just like she had walked in front of Kaito when they were trapped in that nightmare long, long ago. Even though this time, there was no one by her side. "That was enough." And with that, she quickened her pace, eventually breaking into a run. Without looking back— —she abandoned the Saint. Ding-dong.........ding-dong......ding-dong......ding-dong......ding-dong......ding-dong Ding-dong It felt like a bell was ringing somewhere. A solemn noise, echoing through the air before vanishing. It was a sound that signaled the end. However, it was probably just a trick of the wind. Or perhaps, without a doubt— —it came from someone's dream. Elisabeth slowly opened her eyes. She was sitting in a place with no night or day. She glanced about. All around her was purity crafted from snow and water, wind and mana. Above her,

a rainbow sheen hung in the milky-white sky. The sky had no sun, nor did it have a moon. It was beautiful, but there was nothing there, making its beauty hollow. Delicate snowflakes fell from the sky and piled upon the ground. Two toppled pillars of ivy sat atop the snow. She was at the World's End. The pillars rested in that pure world, corpses of giants lying on top of each other and propping the other up. There was a shrine-like cave where the two pillars met, decorated by the azure and crimson roses that yet dotted the ivy. And that cave was precisely where Elisabeth was sitting. Upon realizing that she was leaning against the crystal, Elisabeth let out a small breath. "...Ah, I see." Even without turning to look, she already knew—there were two people sleeping inside that crystal. Their faces no doubt bore the same wordless smiles as always. This was reality. The crystal was cold and hard. The distance that its clear walls separated was slim, yet it was farther than the World's End. Inside, Kaito Sena was slumbering with his bride, bearing the burden of a world that, by all rights, he should have had nothing to do with. Elisabeth reviewed the situation. Mankind had committed a grave sin. Countless people had let themselves be bystanders, and now the mixed-race folk were taking their revenge. The imperial princess had died a noble death, the demi-human had betrayed everything for the people he loved, and the saints' representative had died while still believing in everything and in God. As a result, the living were descending into fear and suspicion, and a new battle was cresting the horizon. This was where Elisabeth had come before the fighting began in earnest. As she sat with her back to the crystal, she must have nodded off. And when she did, she dreamed. It was a long, long dream. She thought back on the words she'd said just before falling asleep. "Would it not be better for a world such as this simply to end?" "Yet even so..." The words slipped from her mouth. She wasn't going to turn back. And so she whispered to those she'd seen in her dream— —and to the smiles long since lost. "Yet even so." She clenched her fists tight. Then she glared forward, her eyes gleaming like rubies. The battle to determine the world's destiny was beginning. The one that would determine if everyone deserved to live— —or if everyone deserved to die. A short while later, the bell rang, and the curtain rose. A Message from the Saint (Final) I've been thinking about atonement. Up until now, it was a topic that never even crossed my mind. No, it would be more accurate to say I decided to forget about it. You see, long ago, I chose to reconstruct the world in order to make up for my sins. However, I was never able to forgive the innocent masses for theirs. I wasn't able to bear the weight of having to shoulder everything alone. And so I destroyed everything. But now, having survived, I realize something. I was in the wrong. And not only that, but I've also always known I was. What a terrifying thing that is to realize. People died. Countless throngs of them, savagely butchered. Corpses piled up thousands high, and in the end, even the world itself broke. Tens of thousands of sobbing voices filled the air. Some died trying to save others. Some died trying to save themselves. But they died all the same. And it was my fault. Mine, and mine alone. The Mad King told me something. "Lucky you," he said. "You got everything you ever wished for." And so I did. But you see, that wasn't it. I wanted everything to be destroyed. But I never wanted this. I'm well aware how contradictory that is. But no matter how many times I reconsider my answer, it never changes. You...you, who's been listening to my message all this time. I told you, didn't I? I never loved you people— —and certainly not enough to want to leave you with my words. Those were my true feelings; they really were. That was my wish. I cursed you. A curse on everything, and a curse on you. But I never wanted to soil my hands. I never wanted to cause you such profound pain. I never wanted to wrench your chests open and gaze upon your still-beating hearts. And I swear, I never wanted to kill you. I didn't want to hear your laughter— —but I didn't want to hear your screams, either. That was the long and short of it. That was how I truly felt. I know it seems late for me to be realizing that now. But that's the way things are. By the way, the Mad King told me something else, too. He told me that I "chose" to be alone. I needed to understand what he meant by that. I needed to learn about this person who he said he liked. But in doing so, I came to realize something else. I was ignorant. I should have known everything, yet I let so many things slip between the cracks. Will you...hear me out? O ye who never once replied? I hated you. I cursed you. I told you to go die. And yet— And yet, even so... Hearing this from me now probably won't do you any good. But these are my true feelings, so I beg you to lend me your ear. Please survive. Please survive as long as you can. Even once the next ugly war takes this fragile little world in its grasp. And thank you for listening to my message. I waited and waited and waited, but no answer ever came. Yet even so, the fact that I had someone listening to me was what saved me. This will be my final message. To you, and to all others who bear life— —may you suffer my curse— —and may you find blessings enough that it will not break you. And thank you— —for being born unto this world I reconstructed— —and for fighting back against my hatred. Good-bye. Epilogue Two people slumbered in a crystal at the World's End. Before that crystal, the Torture Princess awoke. She stared up at the sky. In that moment, the Saint's consciousness rose from the depths of her dream as well. While the Torture Princess slept, the Saint had been in the fabricated world along with her, watching over the events within as the master of the transient castle. Although the Saint no longer had access to the massive amount of magical power she did when she had contracts with God and Diablo, a certain technique of hers allowed her to tap into bottomless reserves of mana all the same. Furthermore, she had been a peerless mage since before the world's reconstruction, and all her skills were still intact. Imitating the ability of a decomposing demon was child's play for her. Normally, the world that the Saint wove would have lasted a little longer. However, Elisabeth's malaise had hastened its destruction, forcing it to rebuild itself over and over again until the constant rejection caused it to lose its form for good and shatter completely. Like a sandcastle, getting struck by progressively larger and larger waves. And now the child playing in the sand had left the beach entirely. "The path you've chosen is a harsh, solitary one indeed." Giving her that dream had been the Saint's expression of pity. For she knew better than anyone the agony of bearing a foolish world on one's shoulders. Fighting in solitude ate away at a person's heart and could even make them forget the things they once thought were beautiful. Elisabeth Le Fanu had the right to flee before she came to despise everything. Nobody could deny her that. But the Torture Princess had said, "Yet even so." Yet even so. And as such, there was nothing more for the Saint to say to her. As Elisabeth glared off into space, the Saint made her move before Elisabeth could spot her. Garbed in a completely different outfit than the one she had worn long ago, the Saint pulled her hood down over her eyes, then quickly left the ivy-entwined corpses behind. Snowflakes crunched under her feet, and she gazed up at the sky. Its rainbow film was the same as ever, but far away, declarations of malice, hatred, and violence echoed through the distant sky. "Then I, too, will go." The Torture Princess had chosen to fight, so she, too, had a duty to carry out. For the people she once cursed— —and for the things she once discarded— the Saint herself was going to fight. And with that, the encounter between the Saint and the Torture Princess— —came to a quiet end. It all took place a little while before— —the final battle of those who loathed the world. Afterword Hello, Keishi Ayasato here. As you can tell, Volume 7.5 was a series of short stories. I wanted to make sure everyone got a chance to read these before you all headed into Volume 8, so I'm really glad I was able to get these tales compiled like this. Now, there's no page count to stop me, so it's time to dive into some backstory on each of the sections! Kaito Sena's Daily Routine (Front Side/Back Side) Chronologically, this story takes place right after the battle against the Knight. At this point, Kaito hasn't met Neue yet. Back when these short stories were being released as a web serial, this was the very first one I wrote. It was also where the idea of having a front side and a back side written from different points of view started out. What is a daily routine anyway? Incidentally, this was also the story that I needed to rewrite the most extensively for this compilation. I hope you enjoyed it. Elisabeth's Daily Routine (Front Side/Back Side) Chronologically, this story takes place before Volume 2 and after Animal-Ear Capriccio, the side story about the Grand Governor's defeat. Out of all the short stories, this one was definitely the most "Torture Princess-y" of the bunch. Although Duke of Exeter's Daughter doesn't show up in the main story, it's a personal favorite of the torture devices I've written into the story. I've also always wanted to try having Hina and the Butcher team up, so it was a lot of fun writing those bits. When those two get together, no straight man can possibly keep up. Hina's Daily Routine (Front Side/Back Side) This one also takes place before Volume 2, but even further after Animal-Ear Capriccio—in fact, it takes place after the special edition of Role-Swap Rondo and a Kiss for Sleeping Beauty. This story definitely skewed heavier on comedy than the others. When I was writing a story based around Hina, it was nice getting to come up with something that would let her spend the plot happily working away. The New Content As you could probably tell from reading this story, it takes place immediately following Volume 7. It was designed as a series of highlights to reminisce on where we've come and how we got here before we get into Volume 8 and the meat of Part 2, so I borrowed a lot of bits and pieces from several different volumes for the various scenes. It might be interesting to go reread it and see what you can find. The setup afforded me a lot of freedom in how I structured and wrote the story, so I had a lot of fun working with it. With this, we're ready to head into Volume 8. I really hope you enjoyed everyone's final party. A Message from the Saint When this was part of the web serial, it only went as far as A Message from

Someone. Back then, I already had the outline of the Saint's story laid out, so I wanted to make sure these sections were set up such that it would all make sense later down the line. Finally getting to finish her Message came as a big relief. Now you have the full picture on what she thought and felt. I hope that someday, we'll get a chance to see her again. The Parent and the Child, or Perhaps the Enemies of the World Originally, this story wasn't part of the manuscript at all. Because of how the page count on the compiled short stories worked out, though, the book ended up having a lot of blank pages. That was when my editor O suggested that I write a story about Alice and Lewis, and the rest is history. I was really happy to have the chance to touch on their lives in this compilation, and I hope you all get a chance to read through it before you move onto Volume 8. In the end, it made me really happy to get to show off so many different aspects of Torture Princess here. I will note that the beastfolk didn't get much of a chance to appear this time, nor did the saints, so ideally, there'll be an opportunity to tell more of their stories in the future. For now, though, this intermission has reached its end, so I hope you all look forward to the main story continuing in the next volume. Finally, as usual, we move on to the acknowledgments section. I'd like to thank Saki Ukai, for the gorgeous cover and in particular for being able to fit so many characters on it; my editor O, for everything as always; Hina Yamato, for delivering a manga adaptation packed so full of love; everyone else involved in the series; and my beloved family, in particular my older sister. Thank you all so very much. And above all else, I'd like to give a heartfelt thank-you to every reader who picked up Volume 7.5. Next up is Volume 8. After I finished Volume 7, I could tell that the rest of the plot was going to be even more dense and detailed. Putting everything down on paper is going to be a challenge, but I'll do my best to get it right. If you don't mind, it would mean the world to me if you continue following along and watch the characters confront their destinies. "And yet even so," she said. And now it all begins. A Publicity Stunt The room was red. Its walls, floor, and ceiling were all dyed the color of fresh blood. It was the kind of scene that burrowed its way into your eyeballs and chipped away at your mind. After all, staying calm and levelheaded when your entire field of view was filled with crimson was no easy task. In contrast with its violent hue, however, the room itself was constructed in an exceedingly normal manner. Firewood was stacked beside its hearth, and it had a cupboard decorated with modest little ornaments. The room also had a plain, well-built desk, and atop it sat two teacups. Each was filled with milk tea. Suddenly, a pale hand holding a silver spoon reached out. Grains of sugar cascaded down from the spoon and sank into the piping hot beverage. There, in that red, crimson, scarlet room— —in that room that looked like a gaping wound gouged out of flesh— —the two of them spent their days as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "Here you are, Master Kaito. It's still hot, so do be careful." "Got it. Thanks, Hina." Kaito Sena nodded as he took the cup. His short hair's tied-back knot swayed as he took a sip. Sitting in the seat across from him was a beautiful maid. It was his eternal lover, his beloved automaton wife, Hina. Aside from their seats, the dining table also had a third chair. But that chair was empty. The vacuum it left was hollow and lonesome. Not only was the room itself perverse, it was also missing something important. However, they enjoyed their peaceful teatime all the same. But all of a sudden, that genial silence was shattered. A ghastly noise was ringing off in the distance. It was frail and shrill yet ominous all the same. It sounded like someone screaming or perhaps someone wailing in resentment. It was the sound of swords ringing, of flesh being eaten, of people being consumed, of crying, of screaming, and of all other noises combined. Hina turned her emerald eyes downward and let out a quiet murmur. "It's started...hasn't it?" "Yeah. It has." Kaito looked down at the faintly cloudy surface of his tea and nodded. However, even though he himself was the one who fended off the end of days, he didn't seem particularly surprised. He went on matter-of-factly. "I mean, I always knew it was going to happen. Every living creature is ignorant, every living creature is like a stupid animal, and every living creature is precious. And that's why they're worth protecting. But at the same time, it's also why they can never escape ruin. It's just the way they are... But still, just three years? That's crazy fast." "It is, but it seems the stone began rolling before the final battle even began." "Yeah. The question is, what's gonna happen now? The mixed-race folk are one thing, but the bigger problem is this new reincarnation. I dunno if she and her allies even realize that...or I guess I should say I dunno if they realize just how dangerous she is. 'This time, I'm going to accomplish everything I set out to do,' huh?" Kaito frowned. He himself was proof of the power of that sentiment. That "conception" possessed by those who met cruel deaths could form the basis for limitless magical growth. But what if there wasn't anything that the person in question wanted to accomplish? A hollow vessel had the power to change its shape at will. It was impossible to tell what it would give the world and what it would do. Would it love or would it hate? Would it be just or would it be evil? "In my case, I was filled with love. That much I know. But what even is justice? I'm still not sure." Back when he was alive, the Mad King obtained unrivaled power. Yet even so, he wasn't able to save everyone. He was aware of countless tragedies yet didn't reach out to prevent more than a scant few. And Kaito wasn't alone in that. The innocent begged for mercy, but nobody lent them an ear. Many committed horrible acts, and those who didn't merely stood by as spectators. Eventually, punishment always caught up with sin. Stupid sheep only saw what they wanted to see and only heard what they wanted to hear. Would they be granted salvation? Even just asking was completely shameless. In a world where God and Diablo actually existed, wishing for convenient miracles to occur was nothing short of comical. The living needed to learn their lesson already. Salvation wasn't coming. Eventually, all of them would die and the world along with them. That was the answer. Not a single person had the right to criticize the current rebellion. However, a single foolish person murmured, "Yet even so..." And now it was all beginning. "Yeah, Elisabeth, that's right... Yet even so..." Kaito didn't finish the rest. Now that he noticed, the noise was gone. Everything was quiet again. Of course, the room was completely sequestered from the outside world. It was distant from everything. It would be strange if anything were audible. The room was red. It had no windows. It had no doors. No one could leave. And no one could enter. It was almost like a graveyard. Or perhaps a prison. And in that place, that place where no one ought to be the two of them just sat. The sound of burning meat filled the air, as did the smell of charred flesh. Somewhere, people were burning. A bell rang off in the distance. The ground was hot, and the sky was black with smoke and ash. The land, the trees, the grass—everything was burning. The water was bitter, and countless were dead. A single bird flew through the sky, crying loudly as it went. A slender man gazed up at it. The hem of his black, aristocratic coat swayed as he murmured. "'A calamity cometh. A calamity cometh. To all the people of the land. The coming messenger aims to blow the bugle of the end.' ...Or something to that effect, I imagine. It does resemble the second coming of the end of days, though, doesn't it?" "Still thy tongue, Vlad. If you wish to wax poetic about tragedy, then go become a wandering minstrel or something." Someone standing behind Vlad shot him a biting remark. However, Vlad offered no response. He just kept gazing upward. Hard footsteps echoed out as the other speaker approached from behind. Her black hair and the hem of her lascivious bondage dress fluttered behind the beautiful woman when she came to a halt. She looked up as well, her crimson gaze cutting through the ashen wind. Then the Torture Princess—Elisabeth Le Fanu—spoke. "At the moment, we've no messenger, no God, no Diablo. Just a fat lot of survivors from the end of days trying to kill one another. Yet again, you succeed in being naught but foolish and annoy— Hmm? You're finished? Were there any survivors on the east side?" "A-allow me...to give my report..." The answer to Elisabeth's question came from the human conscript a little ways off. He had come running over from the houses to the east. Behind his metal epaulets, she could see a group of soldiers carrying bodies out of the still-burning houses. It was clear that most of the victims had already perished. The soldiers carried the brutalized corpses to the central plaza one after another. Although she was still waiting for the conscript's answer, the number of bodies she saw gave Elisabeth a fair inkling of what it would be. He came to a stop before her. Not forgetting to salute, he placed his arm horizontally across his chest as he spoke. "No luck... It was horrible! As far as we can tell, they slaughtered the entire town! Women, children, even unborn babies... It was just like all the others." He clamped his mouth shut, no doubt resisting the urge to vomit. His face was blackened with soot and swollen from inflammation. The air inside the houses was still scorching hot. They had fought back the fires as part of their search-and-rescue mission, but they hadn't had time to put them out completely. In spite of all that, he was shivering as badly as if he'd just taken shelter from a blizzard. Upon hearing the peculiar phrase even unborn babies, Elisabeth clicked her tongue. "Tch, again? How tasteless. And how persistent. This goes beyond the level of mere amusement." All of a sudden, Vlad slowly turned to them and spoke. "Isn't it just proof of how exceedingly deep the rebels' hatred runs, precious daughter of mine? Not to say that there isn't a pragmatic reason as well, but as for their fundamental motive, I've little doubt that it's just pure unadulterated loathing." Elisabeth made no efforts to hide her grimace, and the conscript let out a small gasp. Vlad grinned gleefully. It was a decidedly unsettling sight in a place as hellish as that. He went on, seemingly unfazed by the other two's revulsion. "'You're different from us... That means I can do whatever I want to you.' It's a cruel piece of rationalization some humans once came up with. Depressingly shallow logic, to be sure, and nothing but base sophistry designed to ward off feelings of guilt. You see, the

true reason people have to show compassion to others is so they don't get killed themselves. But those humans violated that rule, taking those of mixed race just as intelligent as them and butchering them like animals." And that had led directly to this. "A natural conclusion," Vlad whispered softly. "How can you even say something like that?!" the conscript cried back. However, Elisabeth placed a hand atop the man's shoulder to settle him down. There was nothing to be gained from getting worked up about the things Vlad said. Even as she ignored him, though, Elisabeth couldn't help but have a thought cross her mind. 'Tis far too indiscriminate to be neatly written off as retribution. She closed her eyes, then opened them. Now then, what to make of the grisly spectacle laid out before the Torture Princess? Buildings were burning. People were dead. Their corpses lined the streets. And ash rained from the sky. At the moment, Elisabeth and the others were in a nameless, medium-size village. It had been attacked by the rebels, and everyone within had been slaughtered. Originally, it had been just another unremarkable remote village. Its population was on the larger side, and it produced a decent amount of wheat. However, it wasn't linked to any major roads, didn't have any large farms or factories where magic item components were produced, and wasn't home to any rich deposits of ore. Attacking it might earn you a little money but nothing beyond that. By the time news reached the Capital that something had happened there, though, Elisabeth and the others were already too late. The village had been set ablaze, and the slaughter was finished. Because the villagers had chosen to prioritize looking for survivors, the fires in the fields and storehouses yet raged, but the dirty rain would take care of them in time. A charred weather vane creaked as it spun atop a burning roof. And down beneath its watchful gaze sat the villagers' corpses. However, the fire wasn't what had killed them. Their chests had been ripped open, their rib cages smashed, and their hearts extracted all while they were still alive. And the pregnant women's children—the aforementioned unborn babies—were no exception. They, too, had been ripped from their mothers and had their organs savagely extracted, an act so barbaric it called into question the sanity of the perpetrators. However, there was a reason why the horrific acts had been carried out the way they had. After all, of course there was. Neither side had completely descended into madness just yet. In other words, there had to be some reason. At least for the time being. Elisabeth murmured the rebels' original motive aloud. "Revenge for the fact that the Mixed-Race Massacre continued even after Ragnarok, then?" The story began a little while before the three races successfully staved off the end of days. When confronted with the annihilation that was the end of the world, many people lost their minds. As a result of that, they began killing heretics despite the fact that none of their doctrine called on them to do so. It was their attempt at demonstrating their piety toward God and begging for salvation. Because the mixed-race people looked different from them and were close at hand, they made for obvious targets. And the incidents continued even after the end of days was averted. There were myriad reasons why, such as the reconstruction sect pulling strings and people fearing that another calamity was on the horizon. The widespread knowledge of Diablo's confirmed existence also caused a marked increase in people conducting ritual sacrifices. When it came to piety, though, that village fell in one of the former categories. At times, rustic simplicity and zealous devotion can make for an alarming combination. Elisabeth sifted through her memories. There was an incident she could recall from about a year back. A disturbing report had been brought to a church near that village. According to the report, a group of mixed-race vagrants had gone missing one after another in the area around the village she was now standing in. That led to a party of truth seekers being dispatched, but the villagers all seemed like devout people; none of them said anything suspicious, and the group couldn't find proof of any actual wrongdoing. And how could they? The villagers blindly believed that their actions were just and good. There was no reason why any of them would slip up, and there was no way they would leave any evidence. With all the villagers working together, it was nigh impossible for a rural church's investigation to see through their cover-up. And thus, the truth vanished into darkness...or so they thought. "'Twould seem our mixed-race friends caught wind of what they did. One of them must have plied some friendly peddler with booze, and once their tongue slipped, that was that. Given the uniformity with which the villagers were slain, the mixed-race people were no doubt trying to repay like with like." As Elisabeth swept her gaze over the bodies, she narrowed her eyes. The putrid stench of death was strong and traveled well. The truth had been leaked, and revenge had been carried out. Retribution had caught up with sin. Still, the act of butchering not only children but also babies goes beyond the pale. In all likelihood... Perhaps having guessed what Elisabeth was thinking, Vlad let out a quiet soliloquy and voiced the words in her stead. "Gender, age, creed...they didn't have the freedom to weigh such things when determining who they should and should not kill, my precious daughter. Not if they wanted to blindly insist that justice was on their side, like the villagers themselves did back when they were alive. For they knew that when they sobered up from their stupor of blood and pretext, all that awaited them were their own broken souls." In short, such was the nature of the act. He shrugged calmly as he gazed at the grisly spectacle. "Avengers really are a troublesome lot, aren't they? The more righteous a man's motives, the deeper his obsession, the crueler his methods, and the sooner he brings about his own ruin... I can't say I hate it, but it is a little gloomy for my tastes." "Vlad, no one gives half a damn about your opinions. As I just said, if you intend to compose poetry like a jester, then go find yourself a more suitable profession and venue. If you have time to wax poetic, that time would be better spent doing your job." "Oh? And what job might that be, my precious daughter? What is it you would ask of me?" Vlad tilted his head to the side in a feigned display of innocence. As he did, his malevolent smile broadened. Instead of immediately answering him, Elisabeth began walking. The conscript hurriedly followed after her. She was headed to the plaza, where the soldiers were still in the middle of moving the victims. The body count was high, and their work had no end in sight. As such, Elisabeth knew what they needed to do. "That should go without saying—help carry the bodies." A bird cried out. An eagle cried out. A crow cried out. A calamity cometh. A calamity cometh. To all the people of the land. A few days ago, the world's peace had been shattered once more. The mixed-race people had declared war against the three races. Not only had the rebels' spokesperson Lewis inherited the mixed-race organization's assets, knowledge, and technology, he had also successfully created the Fremd Torturchen, Alice Carroll, and the demon grandchildren. In contrast, the three races' preparations for war were decidedly lacking. After avoiding the end of days, they chose to pour all their resources into the reconstruction efforts. Plus, humanity's repeated battles against demons had left them exhausted. It was hard to find anyone who hadn't lost something important to them. They weren't mentally ready for another war. But revenge waits for no man. The curtain had risen on a new stage, whether the performers wanted it to or not. The conflict had begun. However, no large-scale fighting had broken out yet. At the moment, the big battle they were expecting had yet to come. Even so, the death count was soaring higher by the hour. And the people who were directly slaughtered weren't the only victims. "Where are we putting the bodies we've yet to examine? Ah, I see. Very well... Hmm?" Elisabeth, who'd been transporting the corpse of a middle-aged man, suddenly stopped. She looked up. Over by the plaza's well, a silver-haired woman was talking to a mage from the royal castle. Noticing Elisabeth's gaze, the woman returned it and looked over at her. Her face was beautiful and well proportioned. However, it was also covered in bizarre machinations, and a good half of her cheek was full of spinning cogwheels. Izabella Vicker narrowed her dignified blue and purple eyes and called over to Elisabeth in a solemn tone. "Elisabeth, just the person I was looking for. I have news. Just as you suspected, the water was poisoned." "Sure enough. So that's the cause behind the strange acrid odor I smelled." Elisabeth nodded. She'd first noticed it the moment they arrived at the village. The air was thick with smoke from the burning bodies, but she'd been able to make out a faint irritant amid the other smells. The bitter aroma had already been scattered by the wind, so it was hard to make out, but given the fact she could make it out at all, it must have pervaded the entire area during the time of the attack. Izabella held up two small vials between her fingers. One had water from the well and the other had water from the village's irrigation channel, but both had a layer of viscous green liquid floating at their tops. Izabella grimly gave voice to her mage companion's hypothesis. "It's the same kind as what the underlings emitted during Ragnarok. I never would have imagined that anyone but us got their hands on any, much less analyzed it and managed to reproduce it. Now, fortunately, they weren't able to amplify its strength the way Sir Kaito did. If anything, they diluted it. Even so, any attempts to use this water to fight the fire would have caused a massive cloud of poisonous haze to spread through the town in an instant. That's undoubtedly why we didn't find any traces of the villagers fighting back." "The haze cleared in time, but even then, the poison remained in the well and channels. As always, it seems they've little interest in keeping the land fit for future use. It's as though their goal is merely to dot the human map with unhabitable blots. Between that and the fact that they raid with small groups, set fires, spread poison, kill all they can, and promptly flee..." "That's right. In short...it's the same as the other villages that were hit." With a stern expression on her face, Izabella pointed at the rows of corpses. Elisabeth followed her finger. The first responder combat medics were conducting an inspection of the bodies. Their skill with healing magic was lacking, but they made up for it with their unparalleled knowledge of anatomy. At the moment, they were using gender, age, and any other characteristics they could make out to compare the dead against the village's population register. Given their clouded expressions, Elisabeth could guess at their findings. "Too few corpses to account for the whole town, eh... Again?" "Of course. The ones slaughtered weren't the only victims. Many, such as the village leaders and their families, were abducted. And hoo boy, they're in for some nasty shit! Hell, they'd be better off havin' their hearts ripped clean outta their chests! At least that way they'd die quick!" For how crass the words were, the voice was surprisingly demure. Elisabeth and Izabella turned. A

girl who resembled a mannequin was coming toward them from the main road that led to the village's meeting hall. Her porcelain skin gleamed under a bondage dress even more risqué than Elisabeth's. The girl shook her head lightly to the side. Doing so caused her golden hair to sway luxuriously. Her rose-red eyes were fixed emotionlessly on the scene before her. It was yet another Torture Princess—Jeanne de Rais. "As suspected, I found this lurking in the belfry. Fucker was watchin' us pull cleanup duty!" Jeanne took what she was holding and violently tossed it on the ground. The hideous creature crashed onto the cobblestones with a thud. It was a familiar, one that looked like someone had taken an eagle and affixed it to a piglet. There was no doubt that it belonged to the rebels. Izabella grimaced and shook her head. Jeanne's tone was dispassionate, but her eyes gleamed like rubies. "I also found traces of a teleportation circle behind the meeting hall. It was the same as the ones we found in the other villages' churches, graveyards, and other large buildings. And just as before, it was impossible to trace back to its source. Those punks are a lotta things, but weak ain't one of 'em. They work quick and dirty, but that just ends up makin' it harder to track 'em. Shit's like tryin' to follow a hunting hound who dug up the whole damn neighborhood along the way." "That's what they used to abscond with the villagers, no doubt." Jeanne gave Elisabeth's low murmur a nod. Izabella clenched her fists tight. "Not again... They can't keep getting away with this barbarity. Their desire for revenge is one thing, but these acts are beyond forgiveness." "That goes without saying, my lady. Thing is, though, they don't give a rat's ass if you forgive 'em or not. That's just how avengers roll." Elisabeth thought over one of the words Izabella just said. It was that again. All the other attack sites they'd gone to had had the exact same pattern of victims. The kidnappings were no doubt happening because the rebels needed "mothers" for their demon grandchildren. Jeanne was right. Death would be far preferable to the fate that awaited the taken. To hammer that point home, the rebels had begun leaving the burst corpses of such victims in various towns and villages, almost like a warning. Committing sporadic acts of slaughter and plunder and leaving provocative displays in their wake... This is no normal war. Elisabeth narrowed her eyes as she thought. Jeanne, guessing at what was going through her mind, replied. "That's right—what they're doing isn't warfare. And it's different from the underlings' indiscriminate destruction as well." "In short, this is all one grand act of revenge—nothing more, nothing less? Is that what you're saying?" Jeanne gave Elisabeth's question a nod. Elisabeth turned to Izabella, wanting to hear her take on the matter. When she did, though, she realized something. At some point, Izabella had begun looking at Vlad. The man in question was standing in front of the crushed familiar with a thin smirk on his face. The viewpoint he had to offer on "evil" was valuable to them, so he was being allowed to travel alongside them, but by all rights he was a criminal who was supposed to be locked up. That made him suspicious even under the best circumstances, and what he was doing now certainly wasn't helping his case. Izabella squinted at him, trying to figure out what he was after. Noticing her apprehension, Vlad spread his arms wide. "Ah, was I being too quiet? I suppose if all I do is attract suspicion, that makes me rather useless indeed. I'm not a jester sent to liven up the proceedings, after all. I suppose it's high time I did my job and elucidated the situation a little." Then his expression did a complete one-eighty and became as serious as could be. There were some truths that could only be gleaned by the truly evil. Vlad began giving his explanation. "These massacres were no act of war. They were a revenge drama, a performance designed to stir up a fell wind. A publicity stunt, if you will. The main act is sure to follow soon." "A...fell wind? A publicity stunt? What in the world are you going on about?" Vlad's words were as cryptic as they were irreverent. Izabella's distrust grew deeper yet. However, Elisabeth understood what he was getting at. Vlad went on without offering Izabella any clarification. "'A calamity cometh. A calamity cometh. To all the people of the land.' That is what our mixed-race friends are trying to convey, and therein lies their plan. After all, total war is a fool's errand." An image from the past flashed through Elisabeth's mind. Dark figures blotting out the sky like clouds. Massive flocks, all taking off from the forest around the World Tree at once. Birds crying out. Eagles crying out. Crows crying out. Then a familiar blowing the bugle. "I'll take this world, I'll make it my own, and I'll kill every last fool who walks upon it. And at the end of the day, it doesn't matter whether I do anything; it won't affect our ultimate fate. Salvation isn't coming, ladies and gentlemen. Not for you, not for anyone. And certainly not for me. "The sun has gone dark—now, let the killing commence. "We, the mixed-race folk, hereby declare our rebellion against you." That was the declaration of war Lewis made. But even with a few of the demi-humans on his side, wiping out the three races was still a distant pipe dream. His side was far better prepared, but he was also facing down an overwhelming disparity in manpower and resources. That said, the same had been true of the Mad King. And in his case, even though it had taken a fair number of accidents and coincidences to get there, he had nonetheless obtained power sufficient to overthrow the entire world. Depending on the Fremd Torturchen's strength, it might well be possible to overturn the world's power structure. However, maintaining power and stability for any length of time was another matter altogether. Trying to lump the three races together and rule over them as a single unit was just asking for disaster. Lewis and his people knew that. Yet even so, they were trying to become proper shepherds. After rooting out everyone responsible for the Mixed-Race Massacre, their goal was to rule over the world to prevent such a tragedy from ever happening again. In other words, their dream was the realization of a perfect, idealized utopia. Short of a literal miracle, such an absurd future will never come to pass. Alternatively, they could merely obtain so much power that people would have no choice but to obey them unconditionally. That would require an immense deterrent, exactly like the kind the Saint had sought out. Namely, God and Diablo. And if that's the case, then it's all too clear what this "fell wind" of theirs shall be. Before she could finish her thought, though, Elisabeth found herself interrupted. The sound of a bell clanging rang out. It was a signal from their lookout stationed by the teleportation circle just outside the village. Someone was coming. "Messenger! Messenger!" Before anyone could jump to conclusions, a deep voice cut through the air. It was the lookout, stating the nature of their new visitor. It was just a messenger from the Capital, nothing more. Once the soldiers realized that there wasn't an emergency, they visibly relaxed. However, Elisabeth took off at a dash. Izabella, Jeanne, and even Vlad, for some reason, raced along after her. The four of them whizzed past scorched buildings as they raced down the road. Elisabeth was filled with an ominous premonition. Right now, the three races are constantly exchanging communications. Consequently, operating the communication devices was taking all the personnel the Capital had. They certainly didn't have the manpower to spare by sending valuable civil officials off to minor villages with no strategic value. Something major must have happened to warrant taking such measures. And even if not, no good can come of anyone arriving under such circumstances, regardless of their allegiance! Eventually, Elisabeth and the others arrived at the humble fence that surrounded the village. Dirt flew up by Elisabeth's feet as she skidded to a halt. Before her sat a teleportation circle enclosed in a cylindrical wall of light. A moment later, that wall cracked and shattered, descending to the ground in a rain of glowing droplets. Standing atop the circle was a man clad in a silken robe—a man Elisabeth recognized. He was normally stationed in the tomb that served as the temporary royal castle, and his job was to keep an eye out for if the rebels tried to make contact. As Elisabeth took that fact in, the man strode forward. His stride was sure, but his face was flushed and damp with sweat. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he spoke. "I come bearing news! The rebel forces have added more to their proclamation!" "Now, eh? I'd have thought it would come a good deal sooner—either that or not until after they'd made a big show of flattening another two or three villages! To think that they'd go for it right in the middle like this... Well, I do love me a good surprise. Go on then—give us the rest!" Vlad clapped his hands together. However, his cheery response was an odd one. Even though he was on provisional release, he was still technically a prisoner, and he certainly didn't have the authority to be giving orders. However, he had given them so brazenly that the official was at something of a loss. He darted his gaze to and fro, not sure what to do. Eventually, Izabella freed him from his plight by gesturing for him to go on. The official straightened his posture, then bowed. "Thank you, ma'am. Then by your leave." "Go on." "The addendum goes as such. 'You people lived lives of arrogant bliss, never once sparing a thought for the destitute and the needy. Your deeds were as haughty as they were heinous. As such, the lot falls on us to lop off your sinful heads. It falls on us to spill rivers of your blood, stack mountains of your corpses, and reduce you all to ash. For us, our victory lies in slaying as many of you as we can until the day of our ultimate defeat. However, if it's clemency you would ask of us...'" Suddenly, the flowing narration came to an abrupt halt. The official began coughing. It would seem that the smoky air was starting to get to him. Vlad slumped his shoulders in contemptuous exasperation, an act that earned him a sharp glare from Izabella. Seeing that, Jeanne just barely managed to stop herself from shrugging as well. She quickly righted her drooping posture. As all of that was going on, Elisabeth surreptitiously frowned. Something had caught her attention. It was the civil official. As he coughed, he was glancing in her direction, asking her with his gaze if it was really all right for him to read the rest aloud. Is the information dangerous to me in some way? But if so, why bother warning me? Wait... Suddenly, Elisabeth remembered something—she knew him. That in and of itself was odd, given that she had little interest in any of the civil officials or their business, nor did she even know the man's name. However, there was a good reason she recognized him. It was from when they took her verbal testimony when compiling records on Kaito Sena. Out of all the people there, he was the only one who'd had the decency to so much as offer her a cup of honey tea. Afterward, he told her that his brother was one of the paladins who

fought in Ragnarok. Then he went on. "'The Mad King's the only reason any of us made it out of there,' my brother kept telling me. 'If it weren't for him, we would've all just died.' The way I see it, it's our job as survivors to pay our respects to the person the Mad King was fighting to save... Even if that person is the Torture Princess." That was undoubtably what was causing him to falter. He was afraid that giving his report would be doing wrong by her. Upon realizing that, Elisabeth returned the man's gaze with a sharp one of her own. "Out with it already," she urged him. I've no need for compassion from a softhearted fool. And besides, the die's already been cast. His silence would do nothing to improve the situation. They could close their eyes and stuff their ears all they liked, but the tragedy would unfold all the same. Fleeing was no longer an option. Not for anyone. Certainly not for the Torture Princess. And as such, their only choice was to fight back. The civil official gulped at Elisabeth's stern glare. Then he spoke with renewed solemnity. "Forgive me... Now, it continues with the rebels' demands. Shall I read them out?" "Aye, tell us what it is they want." This time, Elisabeth urged him on out loud. He nodded and steadied his breathing. Then he gave them the rest in one go. "'If you would have us put a halt to your judgment, then we require compensation. A victim. A sacrifice. If you want us to spare you, then give us the Mad King and his bride in their crystal—as well as the Torture Princess Elisabeth Le Fanu.'" There was a perceptible shift in the air. Everyone present gasped in unison. Izabella squeezed her forehead. Jeanne shrugged. And Vlad let out a small chuckle. Elisabeth, however, was silent. Their demand fell within her expectations. It was hardly worth getting worked up about. Though, that said... ...she was also acutely aware of what would happen next. Soon, the masses would become her greatest foe. That was the true threat lurking within those words. 2 The Suffering Women The room was red. It was dyed all over with the color of fresh blood, and it was the kind of scene that burrowed into your eyeballs and chipped away at your brain. However, the room itself was constructed in a normal manner. Firewood was stacked beside its hearth, and it had a cupboard decorated with ornaments. A chessboard sat atop its plain, well-built desk. Of all the room's minor sundries, it was the only one that stood out. For one, it had far too many pieces. Given the size of the desk, it shouldn't have been possible for the hundreds and thousands of them to all fit, but fit they did. There was clearly something odd about the board's width. And for another, each and every one of the pieces was intricately crafted. The knights were armed with swords, the bishops held their staves high, and the king was adorned with a proper crown. However, the pawns were all empty-handed. That in and of itself was yet another of the board's oddities. After all, what could be stranger than unarmed soldiers? But that was just the thing. The pawns represented the greatest force on the board, but although they resembled soldiers at first glance, they were actually something else entirely. In truth, they were the powerless masses. The vast majority of them had no ability to fight in their own defense the way the knights could. Even if calamity were to befall them, most of them would have no choice but to wait for the end to come. Suddenly a sonorous sound echoed. The boy had picked up a pawn and tapped it against the board. When he did, the pawn swelled between his fingers, popping and rupturing and transforming into chunks of blood and viscera. Its remains stained a section of the board dark red. Kaito Sena then spoke, his youthful face somber and grim. "Izabella and I had a conversation once. I told her that I couldn't save everyone." "Was that the one you two had the night before Ragnarok, when you came to the Capital to pick me up?" "Yeah, that's the one. That was the first time I learned that the mixed-race folk were being massacred." Kaito narrowed his eyes. Pureblood humans made up over 80 percent of the Capital's population, but that hadn't stopped the tragedy from occurring there. Up in the poverty-stricken north, where mixed-race people were more plentiful and therefore more visible, it went without saying how grim things had gotten. Especially once you considered how many of the attacks had gone unreported, the incident was bad enough to leave an ugly stain on the annals of history. That much had been apparent even as it was happening. Kaito's expression clouded as he went on. "This is what Izabella was worried about." "What is?" "'Even if we overcome this challenge, the world is too steeped in malice,' she told me. 'With all the animosity and fear the people will bear, I have no faith we'll be able to keep on living like normal.' Well, bad news..." Hina nodded sadly from the seat across from his. "It would appear that her fears were realized, weren't they?" The army facing off against Kaito was splayed out before her. However, she wasn't the one he was playing against. In fact, they weren't even playing chess. The scene laid out on the board was no game. It was a microcosm of the world. Either that or perhaps a grim parody made to look like one. Kaito picked up another piece. Yet again, it swelled up and burst. However, none of that was his doing. The pawns had been bursting all on their own for a while now, and each time they did, the enemy's ranks swelled by the same number. The new pieces looked like hideous babies, wet with blood and amniotic fluid. Demon grandchildren. They dwelled in the wombs of captured pieces—human beings—and were born by devouring their mothers from the inside out. Kaito spoke as he watched the detestable process repeat itself again and again. "You and me, we're not gods. And for that matter, even God is just a naturally occurring phenomenon around these parts. Nobody has the power to save everyone. And that means...anyone who wants to save as many people as possible needs to know when and where to cut their losses." His voice was tinged with anguish. Such was the unpleasant choice the powerful sometimes found themselves faced with. Their forces were meager, and the territory to cover was vast. In other words, they could only station their soldiers in a finite number of places. Because of that, the rebels' raids had forced the three races to make a decision while they searched for the enemy stronghold. On Vlad's suggestion, they'd identified the areas where the rebels were likely to strike, ranked them in order of strategic importance... ...and abandoned everything below a certain threshold. The places they deemed unworthy of defending were left with little more than warnings and occasional patrols, and it was exactly such places where the mixed-race forces carried out their slaughter. Coldhearted as the three races' decision had been, though, it had proved fruitful. Ever since the loss of the first and second imperial beastfolk princesses and the saint representative, they'd avoided suffering any more notable deaths. "Of course you did," Vlad had quipped. "How could you get laid low by underhanded tricks when you have the help of the most underhanded man around?" However, the greatest outcome was, as always, the greatest good for the greatest number. True dominion of the board lay with those powerless pawns. In a sense, the masses were like a single sprawling ruler. The things they thought and said had profound effects on the rest of the board. For how could they not? "Revenge is impatient. Corpses speak louder than words. Fear warbles. And a fell wind blows. Now, then..." As he wove his abstract statement, Kaito carefully picked up another piece. It was a piece modeled in the shape of a slender woman—the sinner, lording over the battlefield with long sword in hand. As always, it had been placed in front of the other pieces, protecting the powerless by squaring off against the grotesque enemy army. Yet despite that, there wasn't the slightest hint of fear on her face. She was unflinching, valiant, and beautiful. It was the saddest thing imaginable. Kaito narrowed his gaze. "...What's your play, Elisabeth?" The piece clicked against the board as he placed it back down. Then he snapped his fingers, and the chessboard vanished without a trace. All that remained in that red, crimson, scarlet room was silence. A loud clap echoed through the timeworn hall, casually shattering the still silence. It was followed by the sound of Vlad's overly theatrical voice. "Now, then! Some silly little questions to sort through what we know!" The plaster wall he was standing before was adorned with etchings of ivy and grapevines. However, the fine furniture the room should have housed was nowhere to be seen, and the windows were all shuttered up. The manor itself was lavish, but it was all too evident how long it had been abandoned for. The air inside hung gloomy and stale. Empty as his stage was, though, Vlad's voice rang as sonorously as ever. "How much do the masses truly know about the particulars of the reconstruction? On the night they survived the end of days, did the foolish sheep dream of the unvarnished truth? There can be but one answer!" His heels clicked as he strode forward. Suddenly, though, he wheeled around with an elegant spin. With his right palm laid atop his chest, Vlad extended his left hand before himself, chewing the scenery for all it was worth. "Nay. Nothing changed. The sheep remained as ignorant as ever, for they had nobody to hand them the fruit from the tree of knowledge. Now, of course, there were a great many things that did come to light in the end of days' wake." He paused for a beat, as though to gauge his audience's reaction. Ignoring Vlad would only make him all the more annoying, Elisabeth knew. Dealing with him required a certain degree of forbearance. As such, she decided to play along. She gave him a nod as she leaned against the wall. While she did, she quietly went over her own memories of that time. The three races forming their joint army. Their valiant battle against the higher entities at the World's End. The noble sacrifice of the mage who called himself the Mad King. Those were the kinds of glorious tales that had been recounted to the masses by none other than the human king himself. However, much of the information on Ragnarok had nobody to tell it but the mage merchants who took part in the battle themselves. All things considered, it was a fine trick. Many parts of the story were moving, well worthy of being passed down and told for millennia. Meanwhile, the less savory information could be quietly hushed up and forgotten. After all, the existence of Jeanne de Rais, a second Torture Princess, and the fact that Vlad Le Fanu and the Kaiser aided in the three races' struggle were but the tip of the iceberg. The Grave Keeper's true role, where the First Demon had lain, the Saint's malice, the details on how alien and cruel the God pillar was—that information was as dangerous as a poisoned blade or a sulfurous flame. If any of that had become widely known, it would have dealt a crushing blow to humanity's recovery. At best, it would have led to civil unrest and mass suicides, and at worst, it might have even sparked a war. To

prevent that, those who knew the truth decided to extract the palatable bits alone in order to dress them up and present them to the world. "As naked men and women hide their unmentionables and mask their faces with makeup. As flowers are pruned, with their rotted stems coldly discarded. Such is the nature of our dilapidated legend." What had been left at the end was a tale of love and miracles. Vlad's voice flowed through Elisabeth's ears so eloquently it made her skin crawl. However, she was only half paying attention to him. The rest of her focus was commanded by a quote she'd just remembered, one she'd heard in a dream within a fictitious castle of sand. It had been spoken by someone who was Vlad yet wasn't him at all. "In a sense, we stand at a legend's end. The space beyond the fairy tale." At present, those words were quite literally true. In order to varnish over the truth, Ragnarok had been glorified in poems, songs, plays, paintings, epics, and novels, and thanks to endorsements from the government and the Church, the people had amused themselves with such art all throughout the reconstruction efforts. To them, the entire story was already nothing more than a fairy tale. Alas, one can hardly blame them. From the people's perspective, the underlings had shown up to attack and devour them out of the blue. As they prayed to the newly manifested God pillar, Diablo had subjected them to calamities untold. And then, without warning, the nightmare had ended just like that. They were told that a grand battle had taken place behind the scenes, sure, but just hearing about it couldn't possibly have made it seem real. To them, the things that had transpired out of their sight were no different from legends and fairy tales. As far as many are concerned, the Mad King may well have never truly existed. Long ago, an ordinary woman had been made into the Saint, a being of unsullied beauty and boundless mercy. And someday, an ordinary boy would be made into the Hero, a wise and powerful being who knew no pain. With each telling, the sheep would embellish the tale a little further. They wouldn't mean any harm by it—after all, they were dealing with a figure from legend. Why not make him out to be as legendary as could be? They knew nothing. Not a single, solitary thing. He was no hero. No fairy-tale protagonist. No one to be revered. He was just a man. Just a boy. And yet in spite of that, Kaito... ...would remain at the World's End forevermore. Vlad continued on, his voice as pompous as ever. "As such, the masses have no idea the true danger behind the rebels' demand. In fact, it'd be a problem if they did, no?" Hearing him brought Elisabeth back to the here and now. She shook her head. Seemingly unconcerned with his listener's reaction, Vlad continued his enthused monologue. "And besides, the Mad King is but a hero from a legend. Even if they learned the truth, the blood and tears they themselves shed would still feel far more vivid, to say nothing of their fear of the pain yet to come. Compared to their own well-being, his well-being would be an afterthought of an afterthought. And what's more, revenge is impatient. Corpses speak louder than words, fear warbles, and a fell wind blows. To wit..." "...Disquieting rumors will begin circulating among the people." Vlad gave Elisabeth's reply a nod. By carrying out the massacres in the way they had, the rebels had set the stage. Then, before sending their demand to the Capital, they'd also prepared a number of familiars and communication devices with the same message and sent them to broadcast it through the air. All across the land, birds were crying out, eagles were crying out, and crows were crying out. "If it's clemency you would ask of us..." And that had gotten the people talking. "Did you hear about those villages that got burned down?" "Did you see those corpses with their bellies torn open?" "Did you hear that message that was coming from the sky?" "The attacks are indiscriminate, and they're still happening." "But it's not like we can turn to the king for help." And if that's the case... If that's the case... "Precisely, my precious. It won't be long at all before the people start demanding you be handed over! I warned you, did I not? That those massacres weren't an act of war but a publicity stunt designed to stir up a fell wind—that is to say, those disquieting rumors. And oh, how their audience responded. Why, they'll turn out in droves! And you know what that means, I take it." "It means that." Elisabeth let out a sigh. Vlad, seemingly satisfied, concluded his speech with a graceful bow. Electing not to offer him any further response, Elisabeth glanced at the others. Over by the window, Izabella was squeezing her forehead with her beautiful heterochromatic eyes closed. The whole situation was giving her a headache. An unusual blue ring gleamed on her middle finger. Beside her, Jeanne was raising and lowering her hands. She clearly wanted to offer Izabella some words of encouragement, but she was anguishing over what exactly to say. Although her intentions were serious, her hand motions made it look like she was performing some sort of pagan ritual. Although the two of them were both worrying in silence, the room was noisy all the same. That was thanks to the mob outside, audible even through the closed window. Loathsome Elisabeth, repulsive Elisabeth! Cruel, hideous Elisabeth! "'Tis a chant I've not heard for some time... Why, the nostalgia is getting me all misty-eyed." Elisabeth thought back to the scene they'd seen outside. People dressed all in black were marching down the main street. They had looked almost like a funeral procession, which had been accentuated by the fact that they were carrying a set of three coffins. Each one had been stuffed full of flower petals as vivid and crimson as if they'd been packed with human viscera. It was clear they were meant to symbolize the three people the rebels had demanded. The mob's footsteps were heavy, and the constant fear they lived in was visibly weighing on them. Even now, they were still continuing their hoarse, joyless chant. Loathsome Elisabeth, repulsive Elisabeth! Cruel, hideous Elisabeth! It was like they were reciting a fearful, hate-filled curse. Either that or perhaps a nursery rhyme. "Well, at least they're being reasonable enough not to wave axes and torches around," Vlad remarked. "But still, this is just the Capital we're talking about. The poverty-stricken north is another beast altogether. After all, there are plenty of people up there who are no strangers to carrying pitchforks." He wrapped his point up with a pleased-sounding murmur. "Who knows just how bad things will get from here?" Elisabeth took a moment to listen to the tumult, basking in the familiar cries of hatred. A little while later, she shook her head and gave Vlad his orders in a sharp tone. "...Vlad." "Yes?" "Change it back." Vlad responded with an elegant bow, as though to say, Your wish is my command. With a snap of his fingers, azure flower petals and thick darkness swirled through the room like a whirlwind. Then everything in view began to crumble. The room they were in was changing from the ruin into somewhere else entirely. Scaly cracks spread across the plaster walls as the ceiling splintered into cubes and the windows broke into bricks. And not only was the room fragmenting, it was being peeled away like wallpaper. Its chunks fluttered through the air one after another. As they did, they too gradually transformed into azure flower petals. The polished floorboards disappeared as well, slowly but surely overwritten with a seamless swath of living wood. As the dimly glowing azure fragments drifted through the air like dead butterflies, they collectively burst into flame. Then the flame vanished, leaving not even ash in its wake. At the end of it all, they were in a completely different room than the one they'd been in before. It was strangely smooth and composed entirely of white wood. The floor and ceiling weren't parallel but gently sloping, and the walls were curved as well. There were no seams anywhere. It didn't look man-made, and in fact, it wasn't. The entire room had been set up in the hollow of a massive tree. And in all the three races' territories, there was only one tree large enough in which to pull off such a feat. In short, Elisabeth and Vlad were in the home of the Three Kings of the Forest, one of the sacred places in the beastfolk lands. The World Tree. Neither Izabella nor Jeanne was present. The two of them had been stripped away at the same time as the old ruin had been. Just like the contents of the previous room, the two of them weren't actually present in the World Tree. Elisabeth gave the transformed room another glance over. "One does wonder, by the way, why you felt it necessary to project an image of that ruin in the Capital across this entire room as you spoke. Are you truly that fond of idly squandering your mana?" "Ha-ha! Come now, precious daughter of mine—what's the harm? Why, at the moment, our entire world sits atop a farcical stage! And what better way to celebrate that fact than with theatrics? We're here—might as well make the most of it." Vlad laughed as innocently as a child. Elisabeth gave him a disdainful sigh. The peeled-away scenery—the abandoned room with blocked-off windows—was the image that Izabella's magic ring was "perceiving." By projecting that image, Vlad had made it appear as though their room in the World Tree had transformed into the one in the Capital. However, doing so had been a meaningless act bereft of any real purpose. Vlad had merely done it to amuse himself. Izabella and Jeanne, on the other hand, were stationed in the ruin for real. They needed to be able to deal with things if the mob got out of hand. However, diplomacy hardly fell in Vlad or the Torture Princess's wheelhouse, so they decided to relocate to the World Tree. At present, they were standing by and waiting to serve as Maclaeus Filliana's guards once he got out of the three-race meeting that was currently going on. They also had another important reason for being there, but they hadn't been informed of any progress on that particular front. Unable to rein in his boredom, Vlad had transformed their room and launched into a monologue under the pretense of sorting through the information they had at their disposal. As an aside, he was the one who'd adorned Izabella with her ring, and Jeanne had made a big fuss about refusing to let him put it on her ring finger when he did so. Elisabeth let out a third sigh. Everywhere she turned, she was surrounded by people with petty agendas. What a pain. "Jeanne's bellyaching was annoying, granted, but I supposed it didn't grate on ears nearly as badly as the march at the Capital did. To them, Kaito Sena is a hero, a character from a fairy tale, so they've been reluctant to lambaste him quite the way they do me. No matter, though. They can chant my name till their tongues grow numb, for all I care. At the end of the day, though, I doubt it shall stop them from trying to offer all three of us up." Elisabeth shook her head from side to side. There was nothing to be done about it. Ever since the end of days, the suicide rate had doubled. People were killing themselves from being overwhelmed with despair, and the atmosphere of fear and sorrow was

still just as pronounced as it had been back then. After the demons and the end of days, it was only natural that some people would seek refuge in death rather than endure a third such calamity. Elisabeth nodded deeply. The mob was making an understandable decision. An understandable, irredeemable, and utterly asinine decision. "Dullards, the lot of them. They think they can outmaneuver their foes without even understanding the basic situation they're in? Simply relinquishing something when told to hand it over is naught but folly and intellectual sloth. They can flee punishment for their crimes, aye, but all they will find is another brand of pain waiting just around the corner." "Oh, I agree wholeheartedly, my precious. Hope is a thing more brittle than glass. You only ever give it to people so you can crush it later—and oh, how sublime it is to watch that light fade from their eyes." Vlad smiled sweetly. Not only was his remark in poor taste, but it also applied to the wrong side of their particular conflict. Elisabeth decided to start ignoring him again, and as she did, she realized something. ...Hope, eh? 'Tis much the same arrangement as the Mixed-Race Massacre. How ironic. During the end of days, the devout killed those of mixed race in hopes that it would lead to their salvation, and now the stupid sheep were trying to offer up yet another sacrifice. It was an act with no creed behind it, no devotion. It was just an intense, desperate scream—I don't want to die. I don't want to die So you should die instead You should die in my place Someone other than me should die. It was all so irrational it defied belief. However, fear of death was a powerful enough motivator to render morality impotent. Who could cast judgment on a man who pushed another off a raft to save himself? With the avengers preceding over the trial, however, there could only ever be one verdict. "Why's it wrong to do unto others as I had done unto me?" "...What a pain they all are. And how utterly vexing." Sighing yet again, Elisabeth leaned forward from the wall. Her black hair fluttered around her as she strode forward and made for the room's sole door. Vlad called out from behind her. "Oh my, you're leaving? When you haven't even been called for yet?" "Ha, 'tis odd in and of itself it would take them so long. 'Twould be faster if I simply went there myself, no?" "True enough. I can't say I don't have concerns about your ability to resolve things peacefully, mind you... Come now, my precious. Firing off stakes without so much as turning around? Why, if it wasn't me you were dealing with, you might well have killed someone there." A stake had appeared out of nowhere and come hurtling toward him, but Vlad snatched it out of the air with ease. He squeezed his slender fingers together. Cracks ran across the length of the hard stake, and it soon shattered and dissolved into crimson flower petals. Vlad grabbed one of them out of the air and raised it to his lips. Even without stopping or turning around, Elisabeth could tell full well what had happened. Still facing forward, she gave him a light wave. "Worry not—I launched that with every intention of it being lethal. Go on and let it run you through for all I care." "Goodness gracious. Your brutality is beautiful enough to be worthy of admiration, but you really ought to tone down the rudeness. It makes me want to have words with your parents, but I suppose now that would just entail talking to myself... Oh, come now!" "Louisette." Elisabeth whirled back as though performing a pirouette. She then lashed out, launching a blade at him as though drawing a sword from its scabbard at point-blank range. Vlad blocked it with his palm, but even so, it gouged deep into his flesh and cast a magnificent spray of blood through the air. The Torture Princess had nearly cleaved his hand in two. Elisabeth gave Vlad a steely, crimson glare. "You're no father of mine. Hold your tongue unless you wish to see it sewn to your jawbone." The message was clear—that would be his last warning. Vlad shrugged, rivulets of blood gushing from his hand as he casually plucked the blade out. His arm sagged lifelessly to his side. A few drops of blood had landed on his cheek, and he licked them off with great fervor. For some reason, his newly reddened lips were curled into a smile. However, it was different from his usual sinister smirk. It was the sort of expression a parent wore when admiring their child. Elisabeth scoffed, then set off once more. She strode quickly toward the door and reached for the handle. Behind her, Vlad spoke through a mouthful of blood. "Ta-ta. Oh, and do give my best to the Suffering Woman." Elisabeth opened the door, then headed into the hallway alone and slammed it shut behind her. She was off to see a proud, solitary woman who bore a heavy burden. Normally, the Suffering Woman was a term that referred to the Saint. However, the Saint wasn't in the World Tree at the moment. In fact, her current whereabouts were a mystery. After her chance encounter with the Mad King, she had gone missing. The current Church and reconstruction sect alike had devoted no small amount of effort toward trying to find her but had come up empty-handed time and again. As long as she wanted nothing to do with the world, finding her would be impossible. She may have long since lost the boundless fonts of mana that were God and Diablo, but that didn't change the fact that her magical prowess was as yet unequaled. As far as the world was concerned, though, her decision was a rather fortunate one. After all, there were no shortage of things she knew that could easily set off society's current powder keg. With the exception of the Church, most powerful mages shared the sentiment. She should go live somewhere else, and someday, she should die there. Just so long as it isn't here. As such, the "Suffering Woman" Vlad had referred to wasn't the Saint. But if she wasn't the Saint then who was she? Elisabeth headed deeper and deeper into the World Tree's interior. The farther down she went, the fewer people she passed by. Eventually, she made her way to the very bottom of a spiral-shaped stairwell and made her way to the left. She was told that the path before her had once been blocked by tough roots, but at the moment, it was wide open. A pair of guards, one human and one beastfolk, were standing watch by the entrance. Ever since the demi-humans' betrayal, they'd been excluded from such roles. Both guards were clearly exhausted, and Elisabeth's arrival caused them to become visibly alarmed. The eagle-headed soldier nervously spoke up. "Forgive me, Madam Elisabeth, but I don't believe we've called for you yet. Even as captain of our late Lady Valisisa Ula Forstlast's Peace Brigade, I'm afraid I cannot let you through." "'Tis taking too long, and I've grown weary of waiting. Stand down." "...I understand how you feel. However, there's a danger this could give rise to a serious interracial issue, so I must ask that you—" "Oh, enough with the blathering. As I'm sure you're aware, we've long since passed that point." Elisabeth looked to the side, focusing her bloodred eyes on the beastfolk man. He gulped. Even with his tail curled up into a ball, though, he was clearly about to continue making his diligent plea. Elisabeth chose to beat him to the punch. "I shan't kill her." She knew, as did they, that her word would be sufficient for now. The time to carefully consider what to do with the prisoner they were guarding had long since passed them by. Now it was time to let the Torture Princess do her work. The two soldiers looked at each other, then silently stood aside. "Much obliged." With that, Elisabeth took off down the straight path. The entire corridor was made of unseasoned wood so white it threatened to throw her sense of time out of whack. Eventually, at its end, a boy wearing a scarlet outfit came into view. It was La Christoph's attendant. With his master now dead, he was serving in a similar function to the one he had before. Elisabeth stopped in front of him. He looked up at her, then abruptly spoke. "You...remind me of him." "Hmm? What's this now? Who is it I remind you of?" Elisabeth frowned at the sudden assertion. Those in the boy's role normally placed great value on silence, so she hadn't expected him to speak up like that. He continued on in a faltering murmur. "You remind me of the Mad King... So tense and so sad. My master... La Christoph was the same way. People who bear such burdens seem so sad, each and every one of them." After hoarsely inflecting the end of his statement, the boy went quiet again. Elisabeth wasn't sure how to respond. There were any number of truths she could offer him, but each one seemed a mistake to voice aloud. In the end, she decided to act as if she hadn't heard anything. As for the boy, it would seem that his comment had been nothing more than a slip of the tongue, likely from the shock of having lost his master. He stepped to the side without waiting for the Torture Princess's response. When he did, the door carved with the Three Kings of the Forest's coat of arms came into view. Elisabeth pressed her finger against its engraved surface. When she pushed, the door readily swung open. Just like the corridor, the room within was completely white. A heavy silence rose up to greet her. The Mad King's window had long since vanished, and the only furniture within was a modest bed. It was like a hospital or perhaps a prison. Atop the bed's clean sheets sat a thin woman. She must have been able to hear the door opening, but she sat motionlessly, her gaze fixed on the wall. She was staring at a single point, as if there was genuinely something there. Elisabeth spoke. "Now, I hear you've been adamant in your refusal to be questioned. I must ask, are you feeling all right?" Even she was surprised at how gentle her own voice came out. And the woman must have known that her question was free of sarcasm. However, that wasn't to say she didn't take it as a death sentence. She slowly turned around. Golden light burned in her reptilian eyes. "I have been much better, but I have also been much worse, Torture Princess." "Well, that's good to hear, Suffering Woman." Aguina Elephabred's wife? Thus began a meeting between two women both of whom bore terrible burdens and each of whom was held dear by an enemy of the world. 3 Those Who Loved The room was red. It was dyed all over with the color of fresh blood, and it was the kind of room that burrowed its way into your eyeballs and chipped away at your brain. A chessboard sat atop its plain desk. Of its pieces, several were wriggling and squirming in a most peculiar way. Not only was the horrible process of death and birth from before continuing to take place, several groups of pawns were also beginning to march. In the remote corners of the board, some of them were even rioting. However, there were also two pieces holding the board in check. Each belonged to a different side, and the two were standing face-to-face. Both were women. One's head was human; the other had the head of a lizard. Kaito

and Hina watched the two pieces intently. However, neither of the women moved. They merely began having a conversation. However, the pieces' voices weren't audible from down on the board. And Kaito and Hina both knew that. The pieces appeared close to them, but they were actually farther away than the World's End. Trying to hear them was a fool's errand. Yet even so, Kaito and Hina continued straining their ears. The two of them were silent. And the room was silent as well. Totally utterly silent. "You say that I'm suffering, but...the term suits you better than it does me, don't you think?" Aguina's wife's voice was gentle. Elisabeth narrowed her gaze. It was difficult to tell a demi-human's age at a glance, but even so, the woman was clearly no spring chicken. Each and every one of her vermilion scales gleamed in the light, but several of them had grown much harder than they normally should have. It resembled the change that the Sand Queen's corpse had undergone. That was proof that her blood was exceptionally pure, even among the highest-grade pureblood demi-humans. After committing his betrayal, Aguina had left her completely in the dark. But despite her lack of involvement, she still refused to be questioned. However, forcing her to testify wasn't exactly an option. The thing was, her pedigree and status were even higher than her husband's. In short, she was a blue blood the likes of which were rare even for demi-human nobility. Despite the woman's position, though, Elisabeth made no efforts this time to hold her sarcasm in check. "Nay, I relinquish it to you without reservations. Your husband betrayed the beastfolk and humans and sided with the mixed-race people. Now he is an enemy of the world. All for the sake of a reckless, ill-conceived gamble. His obsession with blood purity blinded him to the idiocy of his own plan." "Insolent words coming from a lowly human like yourself." The lizard-headed woman's voice was gentle and calm. So much so, in fact, it took a moment for Elisabeth to register what she'd said. Such was the depth of the soft dignity her words exuded. Aguina's wife then continued, never once losing the characteristic elegance of one who stood above others. "For surely you're aware, Torture Princess—weapon of the Church, pitiful sinner, and consort of the Mad King that you are." "...Hmm? I've some objections I'd like to voice. But go on." "How humanity is a group of exclusionary elitists unable to see just how deeply human-centric their worldviews are. And what's more, you're as numerous as rats. In time, you will eradicate the other races, whether they took part in the rebellion or not. Knowing that, he chose to save the hostages. To prioritize blood purity so that our race might be saved. For a human, of all people, to deride that decision as 'idiocy' is an act worthy of contempt." The demi-human woman smiled. Her tone was as warm as a hand gently stroking one's head and as biting as a knife to the gut. She narrowed her golden eyes and spoke with her head held high. "That's right—I take great pride in what my husband did." And with that description of her husband, the enemy of the world, she brought her speech to a close. That was all she had to say. That and nothing more. She turned away from Elisabeth once more. Elisabeth shook her head, her expression quietly changing. Suddenly, the Torture Princess spoke. "See, I can scarce think of anything further beneath my interest." *** Elisabeth was well aware how careless her statement was. It was the height of impropriety. Aguina's wife turned back toward her. When she did, Elisabeth reached out, grabbing the woman by her scaly throat before she had so much as a chance to scream. It was only a light pressure. She didn't squeeze down. Instead, though, she deployed a wave of flower petals in a circle around them. Aguina's wife's eyes went wide. The demi-humans were no experts in magic, but even she knew. She knew that the Torture Princess was a sinner clad in flower petals, a wielder of blood and chains. To her, severing an artery or lopping off a head would be child's play. Still pressing on the demi-human woman's vitals, Elisabeth nodded. "Your fear and concern are valid. The end of days and the rebellion both had their roots in human religious fanaticism. But your people were just as exclusionary toward those of mixed race. You refused to shelter them. Everyone believed that justice lay solely on their side, and the mess we're now in is the result of that." "You—" "Standing by and watching is a sin in and of itself. However, I shall admit that mankind is entirely unworthy of trust." "Oh, then we are in agreement there. So why not—?" "But that, too, is of little import." Elisabeth smiled amiably, and for the first time, Aguina's wife's expression froze. It was hard to say if her intuition was sharp or dull, but in either case, she'd finally realized something. She had realized just how utterly furious the Torture Princess was. Her expression still as mild as could be, Elisabeth spoke with firm conviction. "I take great pride in what Kaito Sena did." Aguina's wife gave her a confused look. His was a name that was completely unrelated to what they were talking about. To Elisabeth, however, nothing could possibly have been more important. After all, the basis for her sense of justice had long since transcended such pedestrian concepts as morality and logic. "I mean, has it ever even crossed your mind?" "Has...what?" "Who was it that fought for this world? Who was it that rescued all the stupid sheep? Who was it that sacrificed himself to make all that possible? Was it your husband? No. Of course not. You and all the others...you're full of it, you know that?" Elisabeth's rage caused her fingertips to tremble ever so slightly. However, she didn't squeeze down with the hand itself. Taking great care not to wound Aguina's wife, the Torture Princess went on. "You, your husband, your people's obsession with blood purity, the mixed-race people's lament, the three races' various designs...to me, such things are worth less than nothing. I have but one intention—to save this world, and as many of the mindless fools who live in it as possible, by whatever methods I can muster." "...That's a very contradictory ideology, is it not?" "Oh, it is—make no mistake. But you see, there was once a person who saw the world's hideous face and accepted it for what it was. And so I must do the same—for I take great pride in that fool, and I love him from the bottom of my heart." The words cascaded from her mouth, one after another. Elisabeth cocked her head to the side. Hmm? She pondered for a moment, ruminating on what she had just said. And in the end, she arrived at a quiet realization. It was true. It was as one would their confidante, or their brother, or their savior. As one would a kind, incorrigible fool— As one would any whom they ought to love— "I, Elisabeth Le Fanu, love Kaito Sena." In that moment, a warm tear slid down Elisabeth's cheek. However, she ignored it. For such a thing was completely and utterly unbefitting the Torture Princess. "Now, speak." Elisabeth gave her order as though nothing had happened. The noblewoman looked at her with her golden eyes. Of all the demi-humans who'd remained, she was the sole one who'd persisted in refusing to testify. The Torture Princess spoke dispassionately as she faced her. "Wife of Aguina Elephabred. If your love compels you to remain silent, then so be it. For the sake of my love, I shall flay the truth out of you." "...You would threaten me, knowing who I am?" "Aye, 'twould be inexcusable, torturing a pureblood demi-human noble from a distinguished family. But do you really think your status will save you? Knowing who I am? Shouldering such sins is precisely the role the Torture Princess plays." As promised, she wasn't going to kill her. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to break her. A malevolent smile spread across the Torture Princess's lips. As the crimson petals whirled around the two women, Elisabeth presented Aguina with the sole means of escape. "But if you've anything you wish to tell me before that, then by all means, be my guest." "Such insolence." A hard, flat sound rang out. Aguina's wife had swatted Elisabeth's hand aside. When she did, the petals sliced shallow cuts into her fingers, but the Torture Princess intentionally yielded to her weak resistance. She dismissed the remainder of the petals, then withdrew her hand from the noblewoman's scaly throat and silently stood by. After steadying her breathing, Aguina's wife did an impressive job swallowing her fear. "There is one thing I would like to tell you." "You have my attention." "I am fully confident that a single broken pinkie would be enough to get me to talk." "I'm...not sure why you sound so proud of that." Elisabeth squinted at the woman. Half the things she said seemed to be practically begging for pithy rebuttals. For some reason, though, Aguina's wife was the one who sighed. She then straightened her posture, elegantly pressing her fingertips together to stop the bleeding. Now facing the Torture Princess head-on, the demi-human noblewoman spoke. "Elisabeth Le Fanu... You claimed to be one who knows love, did you not?" Elisabeth tilted her head, not sure what to make of the question. In an instant, the golden eyes of the wife and mother standing before her took on a newly serious glint. She faced the Torture Princess, brazen and bold. "Those who boast of knowing love cannot well make light of the love of others. Such is the oath I demand of you. I am well aware that my husband's crimes are beyond pardon. But when you find my son and his wife, I ask that you vow not to forsake them." "You... Rather than submitting to torture, you would choose to negotiate? What—is this your pride as a pureblood speaking?" "No, my love as a mother. I cannot...will not allow harm to come to them." The woman murmured, "Surely you understand." Elisabeth gave the matter some consideration. It was no small demand. In fact, depending on how things were unfolding in the pureblood settlement, protecting the woman's family might well prove impossible. Aguina's wife went on. "The whereabouts of the pureblood settlement in the Dragons' Graveyard—the one found by the rebels, where my firstborn and his wife live—were hidden even from me. And the merchants the rebels used to track it down, as well as their supply routes, have doubtless been wiped out. Their lives and records lost to the rebels... As such, finding the settlement amid the vast desert will be challenging at best, to say nothing of the short time frame you're working under. And given how difficult it would be to hold the settlement otherwise, I think it's safe to assume that you'll find large numbers of mixed-race people lying there in wait. Well? Wouldn't you agree?" "...Aye, true enough. 'Tis imperative we get eyes on it posthaste. Still, though... Here I had thought you a dullard, but you're a sharp one indeed. Why, I would hardly take you for a noble at all." "You know, my husband said that was what made him fall for me. Speaking of which, he told me something when he left for the palace. Not the location but something akin to it." Aguina's wife calmly looked up at Elisabeth. Her gaze was downright enticing. Her insinuation was clear, and her hook was cast. She laid her palm atop her chest. "What will it be, Elisabeth Le Fanu? Will you accept my offer, or will you torture me until

my blood and secrets run freely from my mouth?" Her voice was calm and dignified, and it rang thick with determination. Even now, she was still searching for a respectable option. Either way, her path would be a thorny one, but she had steeled her resolve and, if need be, was prepared to commit a betrayal of her own. Elisabeth gave a brief nod. Even as the Torture Princess, she knew. When one option carried the danger of sparking interracial tensions, the other was obviously sounder. "I cannot offer you any firm promises, as protection is hardly my forte. But if our assumption does end up holding true...then I shall devote whatever resources I can to ensuring their survival. Will that do?" "That is acceptable. Given my current position, negotiating better terms than that is beyond me. But know this—you shall hear this information from my lips but once. For your sake, I hope you can glean meaning from it." The pride possessed by pureblood demi-humans was difficult to overstate. In one sense, it was insipid, and in another, regal. Steadfastly maintaining her dignity to the bitter end, Aguina's wife spoke. "The way things are going, war may be inevitable. I have no intention of letting the calamity affect you or our people, but if you feel that you're in danger, gather the rest of the purest bloods and turn to the Sand Queen. She will lead you to us and our son.' That is the totality of what my husband told me." "'Turn to the Sand Queen'... Meaning her corpse?" "Such irreverence. In our land, you would be executed for a comment like that." Elisabeth ignored Aguina's wife's admonishment. The Torture Princess frowned. Aguina may have been obsessed with blood purity, but he was also a pragmatist through and through. Whatever he was getting at, it must have been something that would actually work. Are the settlement's coordinates recorded on the Sand Queen's corpse somehow? No...just telling the purebloods where it is would be insufficient, given that they'd still need to cross the desert afterward. Some sort of teleportation mechanism installed in the corpse, then? Nothing happened when we blew it up, though... As Elisabeth sank into thought, she looked up. Aguina's wife was staring at her, almost as though trying to figure her out. Their negotiations were complete. Elisabeth gave her a wave to set her mind at ease. "...That concludes my boorish task, so I shall be out of your hair now. Forgive the intrusion, wife of Aguina." "Satisbarina." "Hmm?" Elisabeth cocked her head. From her human perspective, the word sounded almost like a tongue twister. Aguina's wife laid her wounded fingers atop her mouth and let out a sigh. "I see you're a little slow. It's my name—Satisbarina Elephabred. I am not 'Suffering Woman,' nor am I 'wife of Aguina.' We have made an oath, you and I, and as such, I expect you to remember that." "Ah, I see... Then, Satisbarina, I have something I would tell you in turn." "By all means, speak your piece." Satisbarina gracefully offered Elisabeth the floor. Elisabeth crossed her arms. She hadn't minded most of the accusations Satisbarina leveled her way, but there was one thing she couldn't let stand uncorrected. "'Tis as you said—I am the Torture Princess, a weapon of the Church, and a sinner. But I've no need of your pity, and moreover, I am no consort of the Mad King's. He is a married man and a devoted one at that." "Oh, goodness me, I had no idea. My deepest apologies; I see I've touched on a painful subject." Satisbarina covered her mouth, not sure what to say. However, there was nothing that needed saying. Elisabeth got the sense that a new misunderstanding had taken the old one's place, but she turned around after deciding to leave things at that. A thought crossed her mind. 'Tis but a tale from long, long ago. Once upon a time, there was a boy who was brutally killed by another and a monster who brutally killed others. Or perhaps there was a child who was abandoned by his parents and a sinner who was abandoned by the world. By now, there was nobody left who knew how they had spent their days. But the sinner was fine with that. The two of them used to be together. That was enough for her. "Fare thee well, Satisbarina Elephabred." "And likewise to you, Torture Princess Elisabeth Le Fanu." Thus spoke the Suffering Women those who loved the enemies of the world as though vowing never to meet in that room again. And with that, they parted, much in the manner that friends did. Elisabeth exited the room, passing by the gatekeeper boy as she left. He silently stepped back and resumed his post. As he did, Elisabeth strode down the white corridor. With each wordless step she took, her thoughts turned and turned. ...After La Christoph's death, I sent a familiar to the demi-human palace and discovered that the rebel troops had thinned out. I retook the area Alice and Lewis vanished from, but...most of the rebels were gone, and they took the demi-humans and demon grandchildren with them. Satisbarina's assessment of the situation had been on the mark. They still hadn't found the rebels' stronghold, but even though there was no guarantee that the pureblood settlement was where they were holed up, the sheer lengths to which it had been concealed brought that to the forefront of Elisabeth's mind. She needed to reexamine the Sand Queen. Right when she reached that conclusion, though, her train of thought was interrupted. "Madam Elisabeeeeeeth!" "Ah! Y-you surprised me... Lute, is that you? For a moment, I half thought you the Butcher, back from the dead. So what is it? For you to come all this way down... Did something happen?" Elisabeth blinked repeatedly as she stared at the wolf-headed beastman who had just rushed up before her. It was Lute, vice-captain of the Peace Brigade and Elisabeth's direct subordinate. His tongue was longer than a human's, and it hung from his mouth as he panted to catch his breath. All his coppery fur was standing on end, his tail was puffed up and sticking straight out, and to top it all off, his ears were twitching up a storm. It was all too plain to see that something was up. Had there been another attack? Had the masses gotten even more out of control? Both perhaps? Elisabeth narrowed her eyes as she considered the possibilities. However, she could tell that none of them were it. Lute was shaking his head indecisively, his gaze wandering and his nose twitching. Then finally, he raised his voice. "Ah, to hell with it! I'm the first member of the Peace Brigade, and moreover, a sworn friend of Sir Kaito Sena's! For the greater good or not, I cannot sit by silently and watch this happen!" "Kaito Sena? What, did something happen to Kaito?" If so, that was a whole different story altogether, and his alarm was well warranted. Elisabeth took a step forward as she spoke. For some reason, seeing his captain's reaction seemed to help cool Lute's head. He straightened his posture and gave his report. "In the tripartite conference I was just attending as a guard, the discussion turned to the crowds protesting across the land. Things have settled down in the Capital, but the people in outlying areas are rioting. Casualties are already starting to occur, and there's concern that the rebels will use it as an opportunity to attack. And so the conference reached a decision." Lute took a deep breath. Before he could finish, though, Elisabeth sensed what he was about to say. She hoped against hope that her prediction was off the mark, but his next words served to squash that possibility. "Handing the vessel of God and Diablo over to the rebels is off the table. Instead..." Before the masses had a chance to become completely uncontrollable they would destroy the crystal, with Sir Kaito Sena in it. "I see. A prudent measure." Elisabeth delivered her succinct response in the quietest of murmurs. Her tepid reaction almost earned her a dismayed howl from Lute. You're okay with this?! he seemed to be on the verge of shouting. But he took a single look at her face, and that was enough to drive him silent. Elisabeth had no idea what her own expression looked like, and in truth, she didn't much care. She just slowly closed her eyes. For Elisabeth Le Fanu knew. It was as one would their confidante, or their brother, or their savior. As one would a kind, incorrigible fool— As one would any whom they ought to love— Elisabeth Le Fanu loved Kaito Sena. And so if the world was going to betray him— —then she had no choice but to betray the world. 4 Atop a Farcical Stage The room was red. It was dyed all over with the color of fresh blood. As always, a chessboard sat atop its plain desk. Things had been bad to begin with, but now the pieces were truly scattered all over the place. The lines of marchers and throngs of rioters had only grown, and it was clear at a glance that the game had been thrown into disarray. Most noticeable of all, though, was the fact that the person sitting in front of the board was gone. In his place, there was but a single cold cup of tea. There was a figure in one of the other seats, though. Not a human, mind you. No, it was Hina, the Mad King's eternal lover and beloved automaton bride. For some reason, she was looking down. She bit her lip, a curtain of her silver hair hanging down around her face. Her petite fists were clenched tight atop the hem of her maid uniform's skirt, and her emerald-green jewel eyes were like veritable oceans of sorrow. Let us briefly entertain a hypothetical. If, at that moment, the Torture Princess had been there with her she would have spoken to her in the gentlest of voices. Come now—there's no need to be so sad, she'd have said. Then she would have stroked her head. A smile suits you far better, does it not? But hypotheticals are inherently meaningless creations. And without meaning, a creation is good for nothing. Hina's dearest lady wasn't there. That was the truth, and that was all there was to it. She was all alone. And off in the distance she could hear a girl singing. Apparently, the protests in the Capital came to a surprisingly peaceful conclusion. To borrow Jeanne's explanation, "Hags don't fuck around!" In a sense, it was utterly incredible how she had managed to convey no information whatsoever. Afterward, Izabella filled in the blanks. "When the people were marching, an old woman went and stood in their way, you see. Then she faced the people demanding the Torture Princess be turned over and called them 'FOOOOOLS!' at the top of her lungs." Then, without so much as faltering, she addressed the crowd. She said that if they wanted to keep going, they'd have to kill her first. As she put it, "If y'all aren't willing to cut down a single old bat like me, then how great can your cause really be?" It was a dangerous, stupid thing to do. But it worked. The old woman was dead serious, and in contrast, the throng was utterly exhausted. The march ground to a halt. Eventually, a priest popular among the masses came out and was able to peacefully defuse the situation. Hearing that last bit came as a surprise to Elisabeth. Not long ago, such a thing would have been unthinkable, but it would appear that after the deaths of Godd Deos and La Christoph, the Church was slowly becoming more proactive. It was a welcome change, as any organization that sat

silently and watched events unfold from on high was all too liable to grow twisted and rotten. Thanks to their efforts, the situation had been resolved without incident. However, one mystery yet remained. "The thing is, neither Jeanne nor I had any idea who the old woman actually was," Izabella had concluded her report. However, Elisabeth had a hunch. Long, long ago, the Capital was on the verge of being engulfed by a horrible mass of flesh. Before dealing with the mass, she and Kaito had gone around dispatching underlings. And in the course of doing so, they saved an old woman. Afterward, the woman got down on her knees and thanked them over and over again. And right before the Torture Princess's execution, she had grabbed at the spectators' sleeves and desperately begged them not to execute her rescuer. Even so, Elisabeth never imagined that she would show up again and with such vigor. What in the heavens compels her so? ...Nay, 'tis simple. The woman was simply full of regret. Regret at not having been able to save the person who saved her. When Elisabeth laid out her theory, Izabella smiled and nodded. "Then this, too, is the fruit of your labors." Elisabeth elected to withhold her modesty and simply agree. Blood drenched as their world was, it still had budding seeds of hope—seeds that the Torture Princess and her dim-witted servant had strewn behind them as they went. But in spite of that, the Torture Princess was going to betray everything. In order to save the person who saved her. "Well, it's not like I didn't see this coming!" Of late, Vlad's incessant cheer had become even more pronounced. It was unclear when it had started or what had brought it on, but once again, he was merry as could be. He went on in a lilting tone. "After all, our original plan was to smash the Diablo pillar, and you at its core along with it, before it could collapse of its own accord! Of course, that plan got shelved when a certain fool decided to shoulder God and Diablo himself, but that in itself was an aberration. As such, returning to the whole smashing plan seems an entirely natural course of events. I have to say, though, what an ungrateful lot they are!" That was simply the way the world worked. After all, creation was but an unwanted child born from a single woman's despair. "And as such, there's little point expecting anything from it! Wouldn't you agree, my precious?" Vlad thrust his index finger straight at Elisabeth and held the pose. He was clearly waiting for some sort of response. Again. It would seem that his love for friendly banter with his beloved daughter had not waned. Elisabeth begrudgingly posed a question to him. "Vlad, why is it you're so needlessly chipper? ...And why did you come along, for that matter?" "What a silly question, my darling. Why, I'm just trying to help my beloved dau— Oh dear, I felt that one." A needle buried itself in Vlad's left eye with a squik. It was one of Elisabeth's Silk Pins. Vlad plucked the blinding weapon out. Just as Elisabeth expected, there wasn't so much as a scratch left on his eye afterward. In a way, it was impressive how his entire being managed to be so completely and thoroughly farcical. Elisabeth shrugged, then turned to face forward once more. A magnificent snowscape lay spread out before her. They were in a place with no day or night, a pure place crafted from snow and water, wind and mana. Above them, a rainbow sheen hung in the milky white sky. In truth, though, it was no sky at all. It was just a hollow space with no sun, no moon, and no stars. The ground was piled high with delicate little snowflakes, like tiny ice sculptures that been dumped out across the ground at random. ...The World's End. That was how the Saint had designated it. Elisabeth strode forward through the beautiful, empty, unchanging landscape. Behind her, Vlad followed along. He claimed that his aim was to help his beloved daughter, but there was no way of telling how true that was. Trying to understand what made He Who Rears Hell Within His Mind tick was no easy feat. And to obfuscate matters further, Vlad was wearing a most enigmatic smile. His buffoonish diction remains much the same as always, but that expression of his seems...different somehow. Elisabeth shook her head. That might be true, but so what? Now was no time to be getting caught up in his nonsensical pace. She needed to hurry. After hearing the news from Lute, Elisabeth refrained from immediately acting so as to at least carry out the bare minimum of her duties. Instead, she headed back to her room and waited for Izabella. Izabella gave her report, and Elisabeth conveyed Satisbarina's information to her in turn. Then, once the tripartite conference was over and Maclaeus gave her the order to stand by for the time being...she slipped out of the World Tree. In all likelihood, the decision to destroy the crystal was made midway through the conference. Yet the order I was given was to stand by for a time. In short, that time is precisely when they aim to mobilize the paladins. If I don't make haste... Elisabeth had but one objective—to take the crystal with Kaito and Hina sleeping inside and hide it somewhere safe. She already had a spot in mind, so the one issue was how she was going to get the crystal there in a way that couldn't be tracked. After considering a number of different methods, she eventually just shook her head. "Eh, I'm sure it'll work out. I am a genius, after all...and more to the point, I haven't the time to spend racking my brain." Elisabeth's voice trailed off into a hoarse murmur, and as it did, Vlad let out a cry of wonderment. "Oh-ho, now this is a nostalgic sight! Magnificent as always, I see." Everything else paled in comparison to the oddity of the sight before them. It was physical proof of the miracle they had borne witness to. And it was the image that marked the end of their dilapidated fairy tale. Resting before them were two toppled-over pillars of ivy. They were like corpses of giants, each lying atop the other and propping it up. A cave sat at their center, like a profane little shrine, and the ivy's surface was still dotted with azure and crimson roses. Because of that, petals of both hues fluttered through the air without end. All in all, it made for a magnificent, florid sight, like something out of a pagan festival. And at the very center of it all, deep within the cave, sat a crystal. A man and woman were sleeping inside it. Their expressions were tranquil, and because of how transparent the crystal was, they looked almost close enough to touch from the outside. In truth, though, they were farther than the World's End, like unreachable flowers frozen in ice. And in front of Kaito Sena and Hina's unwaking forms— "...I see. I'd not have thought you'd go to such lengths. 'Twould seem the Craven King has become quite the force to be reckoned with." —stood a young man clad in fine furs. A sizable group of paladins stood at the ready behind him. Jeanne and Izabella accompanied him, too, as did a number of saints. His hands were clasped together sadly. It was Maclaeus Filliana. As the human king stood before the crystal of sacrifice at the World's End he slowly raised his head. "So you anticipated my actions, then... Or, no, you intentionally let the information slip to Lute, didn't you?" "It's sad, Elisabeth. Every person in this world owes their life to the Mad King." Maclaeus answered Elisabeth's question by talking about something entirely unrelated, which she took as an affirmation. She narrowed her eyes threateningly. However, Maclaeus didn't falter. "Sir Kaito Sena was a much better king than I am. In fact, you could even call him a messiah. And yet nobody cares in the slightest for his well-being. It's a sad state of affairs, and honestly, quite shameful. However..." The greatest outcome was, as always, the greatest good for the greatest number. True dominion of the board lay with those powerless pawns. In a sense, the masses were like a single sprawling ruler. The things they thought and said had profound effects on the rest of the board. For how could they not? "Peace needs to be... I need to maintain peace, so this is the only choice I have." "Hmm. 'Choice,' eh?" Lute was a sworn friend of Kaito Sena's and the person who regretted Ragnarok's outcome the most. With him stationed in the tripartite conference, 'twas but a matter of time before the information made its way to me. 'Tis a simple enough trap, but... No... Something was off—Elisabeth could feel it. But then— Clang. A hard noise rang out, as though to cut off her train of thought. Two women stood before Maclaeus. To his left, silver. To his right, gold. Like a silver rapier and a golden flower. Both were breathtakingly beautiful, and both were well acquainted with the landscape of the World's End. And there was something else they had in common, too, Elisabeth knew—they were both terrifying to have as enemies. "Izabella and Jeanne... I never imagined I would end up fighting you two lovebirds." "Nor did I. It's regrettable that things have come to this," responded Izabella. "Is it? I myself think it's quite wonderful. Somehow or other, the lady and I have never had a proper battle. This might not be half-bad. Also, we ain't lovebirds! And not for lack of tryin', but that shit's easier said than done!" Jeanne ended her comment on an expressionless lament. As always, she knew where her priorities lay. Now that she had Izabella and Jeanne's reactions to go off, Elisabeth thought back over the situation. Ah, aye. Sure enough... She wordlessly cast her crimson gaze toward Maclaeus. However, he too said nothing. The paladins and saints lined up behind him were silent as well. One of the saints, a young girl with both legs bound, returned Elisabeth's gaze with a cold glare. Next, Elisabeth turned around. Unsurprisingly, Vlad was smiling. This time, though, it was back to his normal condescending smirk. Now Elisabeth could tell exactly what was going on. However, she nodded nonetheless. "Very well—then battle it shall be." Her tone was that of a child who had just been invited to play. She tapped her toes on the ground twice, and the snow crystals falling around her cracked and shattered. Their fragments glinted radiantly as they floated through the air. The Torture Princess, surrounded by their light, extended her fair arm straight out. A long sword's handle fell into her upturned palm. Elisabeth grabbed her blade. Jeanne raised her hand, the very image of an orchestral conductor. Izabella dropped to all fours like a feral animal. The paladins gulped. The saints offered no reaction. And the king closed his eyes. Elisabeth twirled her sword, its blade carving through the air as it turned. She held it at the ready. That moment, everyone present saw the same vision. It was as though rich music had just filled the air— "Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal." "Waltz." —for it was clear to all that a ball had just begun. A ball replete with the sound of blades lightly clashing. Azure and crimson petals danced in unison. Crystalline snowflakes glinted in the light. And beneath the milky-white sky, they were joined by a series of sharp silver flashes. Izabella wielded her arms as weapons, each one like a metal whip, their strikes arcing through the air like a blow from a scythe. Many of her fingers had been replaced with

mechanical substitutes, and any one of her attacks would be sufficient to rend flesh and crush organs. Yet not only did Elisabeth evade her deadly strikes, she did it with footwork reminiscent of a dancer's. Then she leaped backward with feline agility, landing on her feet with a light tap. Her black hair hung in the air. Before she had a chance to blink, Izabella closed the gap and bore down on her. Normally, no human could have possibly moved that fast. However, Elisabeth just snapped her fingers without so much as pausing. "Recreation of the Plain of Skewers: Impaled Victim." An ugly noise rang out as the earth split open and stakes exploded up from the ground. Izabella reacted immediately, twisting her body at a sharp angle as far as it would go to avoid the stakes. "Flexible" didn't even begin to describe it—if anything, she looked like a puppet being pulled about by strings. And what's more, she even evaded the stakes coming at her from her blind spots. Even so, it would appear that she was still the one in charge of regulating and maintaining her core strength. As Elisabeth watched the unified decision-making in action, she gave an admiring nod. Ah...'tis well and truly a waltz for two. The women of gold and silver were dancing as a pair. All of a sudden, Izabella grabbed a stake as it sprouted up beside her, wrenched it from the ground like an animal gnawing off a hunk of meat, and hurled it at Elisabeth. It shot through the air with the speed of a cannonball. Elisabeth brandished her sword. Then the world stood still. Or at least, that was how it looked to the paladins. As the stake approached her head-on, the Torture Princess cut it down. While the thunderous noise of her slash rang out, a great rush of crimson flower petals flew through the air like a chorus of cheering voices. And for a moment, neither side moved. Elisabeth and Izabella faced each other, neither saying a word. The silence was almost deafening. The air was fraught with tension. And as before, the saints didn't move. Nor did Vlad. Nobody wanted to break the unnatural stillness. Two pairs of eyes, one crimson and the other a mismatched blue and purple, stared into each other. Both women smiled ever so faintly. Then they dashed forward in unison. Elisabeth held her long sword aloft. Izabella reached out with her armored arms. The two clanged into each other. Both sides mercilessly pressed forward, each refusing to give so much as an inch. All the while, the gears in Izabella's face continued turning, their constant ticking and tocking a complete tonal mismatch with the rest of the scene. The woman of black and the woman of silver drew together, their lips so close they were practically kissing. Then Izabella let out a whisper that was barely more than a sigh. "I take it you've noticed, Elisabeth?" "Of course. Izabella Vicker...you're holding back." Sparks flew. And as they did, the two parted. Silver and black hair became intertwined, got entangled, then came free. It made for such a bewitchingly beautiful sight one almost forgot they were watching a battle. The two women twirled round each other thrice, then came back together. Sword and palm met, as hands would of partners reuniting in a ballroom dance. Elisabeth and Izabella shared another surreptitious exchange. "Good, then we're on the same page. King Maclaeus knows as well. Destroying the crystal with God and Diablo inside would eliminate a great weakness of ours, but it would also remove the sole thing keeping the rebels from going completely on the warpath. We would ensure our safety for a time, but it would eventually lead to our ruin. As such—" "—our best option is to steal the crystal and hide it beyond the masses' reach. 'Tis quite the crafty plan, to say nothing of the fact that it forces sin upon my shoulders without so much as my consent." "Yes, that's the problem. I know it's a lot to ask of you, but would you be willing to bear that burden?" "'Tis a good plan. I've no objections. I am the Torture Princess, after all. A woman steeped in sin. Crown me with thorns and cast stones at me all you please." Elisabeth's voice was quiet but dignified all the same. Izabella gave her a small nod. All the while, their blades kept screeching against each other. Elisabeth jumped back, casting a shower of sparks in her wake. She took another look around. The paladins couldn't intervene for fear of exacerbating the situation, and moreover, they had been swallowed up by the atmosphere of the scene. However, Vlad was staying just as motionless as the saints. And this was why. In a sense, their current situation was taking place atop the farcical stage as well. All the people gathered there were but witnesses to the charade, and in all likelihood, many of them had no idea about the Torture Princess's arrangement with the king. And that was for the best. The fewer people who knew, the less likely the truth would be to get out. That was probably also why he hadn't told Elisabeth about it beforehand. Deciding to have her pull it off with no advance warning had been a risky gambit, but he had threaded the needle excellently. Plus, there was something else the Torture Princess knew. This choice of his...'Tis not only I who bear a heavy burden but Maclaeus as well. There were many who had their eyes on the throne, and given how weary and angry the people were, there was a fair chance the mob would hang the king for his failure. Elisabeth shot Maclaeus a questioning gaze. Are you really fine with this? However, he offered her no answer. And that in itself was answer enough. There was no need for him to say it aloud. "...Good heavens. I commend him on his growth, but perhaps he's matured too much for his own good." Elisabeth's voice was a low murmur. Maclaeus looked up to Kaito Sena, and he deeply regretted having forced everything onto him. Now, though, the king who once fled on his own had braced himself for the weight of responsibility. Elisabeth thought back on what La Christoph's disciple had said. "People who bear such burdens seem so sad, each and every one of them." However, her ruminations were cut short. Taking advantage of her lapse in concentration, Izabella drew a concealed knife and threw it at her. The Torture Princess tilted her neck, but her decision to evade using the smallest motion necessary ended up being a poor one. A thin red line appeared across her fair throat. And a moment later fresh blood splattered across the frozen ground. Red, crimson, scarlet. Soiling the pristine earth. Without even sparing a glance toward the blood, Elisabeth snapped her fingers. There was no time to neatly heal the wound. Instead, she chose to roughly stitch it closed with string, an act that bore a striking resemblance to torture. More knives followed the first, but this time, Elisabeth sliced them away. Upon catching one knife on the tip of her sword, she spun her body in a half-turn. The knife, newly propelled, shot back toward its original thrower. Right before it landed, though, Izabella leaned forward and bit down. A horrible ringing noise reverberated through the air. The blade glinted as it sat pinned between her teeth. The paladins let out cries of shock and amazement. And thus did the extravagant dance continue. Meanwhile, the blood that fell from Elisabeth's throat began moving. Its crimson trail slithered across the ground like a snake, carving through the ice and forming a precise pattern. Finally, crimson met crimson. The snake had swallowed its own tail, and the trail's start and end were linked. A complete teleportation circle now sat on the ground with Kaito and Hina's crystal at its center. The blood began glowing. Feigning surprise, Izabella stopped in her tracks. And Elisabeth, presented with a flagrant opening, took it. She fired off a roundhouse kick. "Gah!" The kick landed squarely in Izabella's gut. After going still for a moment, she went hurtling out of the teleportation circle's radius, bouncing off the ground several times and crushing piled-up snowflakes beneath her with each step. Eventually, she rolled to an unseemly stop. With an injury like that, not even a seasoned veteran would guess that she'd taken the fall on purpose. Jeanne bit her lip. In all likelihood, she objected to the decision. However, Izabella's had been a necessary sacrifice. The more pain that was suffered, the better it would sell the lie. That went for Izabella, Elisabeth...everyone. And so without pausing to reflect, the Torture Princess raised her voice, loud and brazen. "You're finished!" "My liege, get back! It's dangerous!" Just as she expected, the paladins quickly moved to get the king outside the circle. They readied their shields and drew their swords, but they knew full well how powerful the Torture Princess was. They made no moves other than to protect the king. It was a prudent decision. Elisabeth nodded. All the audience members had left the stage. Now it was time for the ball's curtain to fall. The Torture Princess gave an elegant bow, and her black hair fluttered as she raised her head back up. Maclaeus was standing silently behind the paladins' guard. The Torture Princess mouthed a silent whisper. "Farewell, Maclaeus, O tragic king of man, O wise fool who admired the Mad King." "Good-bye, Elisabeth Le Fanu. May you find yourself in good health until the day they string us both up." The two of them locked eyes for a moment, knowing it might well be their final parting. Then they quietly averted their gazes. A wall of crimson rose up between them. Light from the teleportation circle danced through the air, and the petals began hardening. The cylindrical pillar was complete. And in that moment "Ah!" the moment before the crimson blocked out everything they sensed a wave of malice so hideous it was almost palpable. "Daughter of mine!" Vlad let out a rare scream. The pillar cracked. There was a hole right in the middle of its wall. And through it... ...a massive amount of blood could be seen gushing from Elisabeth's shoulder. "Wha—?" That was enough to strike even the Torture Princess speechless. Not only had the attack pierced through her teleportation circle, but it still had strength after breaching the wall. That was a feat no ordinary attack could boast. To say it was unexpected would be an understatement. However, Elisabeth choked down her alarm and focused her attention on her shoulder. Upon seeing what was squirming atop it, she finally realized what had happened. It was a divine beast in the form of an albino rat snake. Its long body was faintly luminescent, and its scales rippled and flowed. If you wanted something to bite holes in dark magic, you'd be hard-pressed to find a better option. "Bah, how annoying!" Fully removing its fangs would take time. Instead, Elisabeth chose to prioritize mending the teleportation circle while still keeping its destination masked. If the unthinkable happened and she got caught, it wouldn't just put her in jeopardy but Maclaeus as well. Between the pain and the blood loss, her body temperature began rapidly dropping. However, she chose to ignore that fact. Pain was but something to be swallowed down. That was what Kaito Sena had done. Seeing her lack of resistance, the snake began slithering around and trying to gnaw through her shoulder. Elisabeth scoffed. I can reattach it later or else find a replacement. In fact, you'd be doing me a favor—with the arm loose, I can crush it and you in one fell swoop. But right when the Torture Princess made her decision... "...Hmm?" ...a splat sounded out... ...and the

snake's belly went limp. Golden light poured from its body in place of blood. Elisabeth furrowed her brow, then looked over in the direction of the most likely culprit. However, Vlad wasn't the one she had to thank. He hadn't so much as moved from his spot. He had merely thrust out his arm, as though calling something. There was a rare serious look in his crimson eyes, and he was staring at the empty sky. It was a peculiar gesture, but it seemed to have done the trick. Upon further inspection, the snake had been pierced through by a beast's fangs. A displeased voice rumbled up, as though coming from the bowels of the earth. "After all this time, this is what you call me for? I am not a snare for snake hunting, and you would do well not to treat me as one." The voice belonged to a black dog the size of a small cow. Each of his eyes burned bright with hellfire. After pinning the divine beast's tail in place with his forepaws, he ripped through its torso with his jaw, swallowing it down without allowing it so much as death throes. Divine beast or not, the gap between its power and his was unimaginably vast. Elisabeth pressed down on her shoulder as she called out his name. "...It's been some time. It wouldn't have killed you to show up a tad sooner, though, Kaiser." "Ha, it seems you don't know your place. Would you like me to pick up where the snake left off?" The Kaiser, supreme hound and strongest of the fourteen demons, snorted derisively. His existence was the primary reason Vlad hadn't been executed. After the end of days, the Kaiser declared that he had grown bored of humans and disappeared. It was a completely demonic yet utterly un-demonic act of capriciousness. However, the fact remained that Vlad was the one who'd inherited his contract from the Mad King. And executing the Kaiser's contractor was easier said than done. If they tried to behead him or trigger his self-destruct device, there was a fair danger that the executioner would find themselves on the business end of a black dog's fangs. Of course, in his case, even if Vlad were about to be executed...would he show up? One wonders...'Twould depend...on his mood...no...doubt... Ah, this is bad. I feel faint... Elisabeth took another look at her wound. Crimson streams were pouring out from between the fingers she was using to press down on it. Dark magic matched up poorly against divine beasts. She was losing too much blood. Elisabeth leaned back against the shattering teleportation circle's wall, then slid down until she was seated atop the icy ground. She took a moment to think back on what she'd just seen, blurry as her vision had been. "That...was..." The young saint girl's eyes had been burning with a brutal, intense hatred. 5 The Beastfolk's Decision The red room was deathly quiet. The chessboard was a mess, and the pieces were in utter disarray. Plus, there weren't even any players. All that remained by the desk was a cold cup of tea. At the moment, that place, that place where nobody ought to be— —had a visitor. A woman had appeared— —in that room, farther than the World's End. To. Fro. Chitter. Chatter. There was a voice. It wasn't clear if it was a dream or reality, but there was definitely someone singing. It was a young girl, her voice loud and full of pride. She called out, her tone that of a person dashing through a field with deranged abandon and laughing their head off. "Come now," she was saying, "let's be good girls and sing a song." "Holy, Holy, Holy! "Lord God Almighty, thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. "Amen. "Hallelujah." The last line was the Grave Keeper's final statement. It was odd. Why did people say hallelujah and wish blessings on one another? Why did they sing songs so rife with contradictions? Why did they give such perverse orders? How could they do all that yet remain utterly blind to their own sins? Until the day of your death, try to do some good at least. And if you cannot do good, then die. However, the very premise was flawed. What was "good"? What did the world that turned ever so properly deem good? At this point, is anything truly "good"? "...eth...sa...beth... Lady...Elisa... Lady Elisabeth!" "...Hmm? What's going on there? You're making a racket." Upon hearing someone call for her, Elisabeth suddenly came to. When she did, she discovered a pair of emerald eyes wet with grief blinking right beside her. They weren't human eyes; they were actual jewels. It made for a beautiful sight and one that stirred up a wave of nostalgia in Elisabeth. When she saw them, she finally understood her situation, which came as a great relief. It was a delightful silver-haired maid peering straight at her. "Oh, Hina, it's you. In that case, all is forgiven." Elisabeth let out a small breath, then shook her head. Pain's aftertaste still lingered in her body, and she felt as though she'd just had the most horrible nightmare. However, she was unsure how much of it had been a dream and how much had actually been real. Wanting to know where she was, she glanced around. Upon doing so, though, a deep furrow made its way across her brow. "...Wait, where are we?" The room was red. It was dyed all over with the color of fresh blood, and it was the kind of room that burrowed its way into your eyeballs and chipped away at your brain. A chessboard sat atop the plain desk at its center. Elisabeth stood and walked over to it. Upon peering down at it, she couldn't help but scrunch up her face. The pieces' arrangement was a mess, and even at a glance, it was obvious that the game was in a state of abject chaos. And to top things off, there weren't even any players. All that remained by the desk was a cold cup of tea. The oddest thing, though, was there were two pieces submerged in that cup. Elisabeth plucked them out. A red droplet dripped down her wrist. That was not tea in the cups. It was blood, and it dripped off the sword-brandishing boy piece and halberd-wielding maid piece as they rose. As she looked at the strange designs, Elisabeth finally realized something. "Wait... Hina? Hina?!" Hina was Kaito Sena's eternal lover and beloved automaton bride. She was also the Torture Princess's maid—a kind woman and one whom she held great affection toward. However, she was also someone who had no right to be there. After all, she and Kaito Sena were locked in a deep slumber within a crystal. Elisabeth whirled back around as though she'd been struck. She stared intently at the maid standing there. Hina gave a pained smile. However, she then abruptly looked down and bit her lip as her silver hair draped in front of her face. She gripped the hem of her maid uniform's skirt. Elisabeth hurriedly rushed over to her. She had a million questions—where they were, for example, and why Hina was there—but she immediately discarded them all. Hina was mourning right before her eyes. That was the only thing that mattered. Elisabeth stroked her cheek, then stroked her head through her soft maid cap. "Come now—there's no need to be so sad. A smile suits you far better, does it not?" Hina's eyes went wide. She said nothing, and tears began streaming down her cheeks in large drops. Seeing that sent Elisabeth into a tizzy. "What's going on? What's wrong? Is it something I did?" All of a sudden, though, Hina grabbed her hand. Elisabeth's eyes went wide. Hina desperately squeezed her hand, tears still pouring down her face. Then, for some reason, she began talking just about as fast as her mouth would let her. "There are a lot of sad things happening to you right now, Lady Elisabeth. Sad things, and painful things, and difficult things, and horrible things, and unforgivable things... And I'm certain there will only be more of them from here on out! But please, Lady Elisabeth, you must believe. And no matter what happens, you mustn't forget." Hina raised her downturned face with great vigor. Her tears gleamed like tiny stars as they scattered through the air. Elisabeth had no time to so much as get in a question edgewise. As though pressed for time, Hina continued her fervent plea. "We... That is, Master Kaito and I, we love you so much! So please, you must protect this world of yours. Please...if you remember nothing else, remember that." "How could I possibly forget?" Elisabeth's statement rang with a certain coldness. Hina gasped. However, Elisabeth quickly gave her a smile. The Torture Princess then returned her grasp, clasping Hina's hand in both of hers. Elisabeth gently stroked the back of Hina's hand. The Torture Princess made her calm proclamation. "I love you, too, Hina. I could never forget that...not even if I wished to. Nor shall I. Never, ever, ever." Thus did Elisabeth make her promise, her tone reminiscent of a child's. Hina blinked. At long last, a smile spread across her face, like a beautiful flower opening its petals. However, her expression quickly darkened again. With her face scrunched up like she was going to resume crying, she untangled her hand from Elisabeth's. Her fingers' faint warmth grew distant. Puzzled, Elisabeth finally asked a question. "...Hina, what's the matter?" "It's time for us to go our separate ways, Lady Elisabeth. Someday, I'm sure...we'll... No...no, perhaps not. Please, though...please do take care of yourself." Little by little, Hina's voice grew fainter, and her face etched with its childlike sorrow grew more and more distant. Eventually, her familiar visage disappeared from view entirely. Elisabeth reached out, but those slender fingers of hers were nowhere to be found. "Wait," Elisabeth tried to beg her. "Don't go." But her voice wouldn't come out. Everything was growing hazy. For a moment, she thought she saw a shadowy figure. However, that too soon fluttered away into the darkness. It was unclear how much was dream and how much was reality but either way, everything came crumbling down. Elisabeth called out desperately to the figure she hoped beyond hope was real. "Don't go, Hina! Don't go!" "......eth...sa...th......beth...Elisabeth!" "Hina!" Elisabeth sat up with a start. Her head smacked into someone, hard. "Hey, ow!" they yelped. She tilted her head to the side. Hmm? She heard an oddly familiar voice as well as an oddly unbefitting quote coming from it. Right in front of her, the usual suspect was rubbing his jaw. "Goodness, these surprise attacks are starting to get to me. That was a sincere cry I let out there." "Calling that 'sincere' is about the scariest lie I can imagine." Hearing that man say "ow" like that was unsettling in the extreme. What if that wasn't a lie, though? Elisabeth's face paled a little. Perhaps she was overreacting, but the prospect was scary enough to warrant it. Vlad shrugged discontentedly at his beloved daughter's words. "You know, I'll remind you that you're the one who head-butted my jaw. Well, no matter, I suppose. The long rebellious phase marches on, and it's up to my paternal love to be equal to it. You were tossing in your sleep—is something wrong?" It was unclear if Vlad's allusion to his "paternal love" came from a place of sincerity or mockery, but either way, Elisabeth decided to refrain from attacking him over it. She pressed down on her forehead. She had just been having a dream; she was sure of it. A lonely, nostalgic nightmare. And yet she couldn't remember so much as a single detail about it. "...No, 'tis nothing. I think." "Are you sure? But Elisabeth, you— Heh. You

kept not waking up, so I tried calling you by your name for a change. Ah, the memories it brings back. Back to the matter at hand, though, you say nothing's wrong, but..." Vlad curled his lips. Elisabeth narrowed her eyes—if he had something he wanted to say, she'd just as soon he said it. All of a sudden, something fell from the corner of her eye. The Torture Princess quickly wiped it away with her finger to try and pretend it hadn't happened. However, Vlad wasn't about to let it slide so easily. "...it looks to me like you're crying." "...I'm sure I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about." Elisabeth's reply was cold and blunt. The thing that had fallen was something most unbefitting the Torture Princess. In fact, it was utterly unacceptable. But if it had, indeed, fallen... ...then it must have fallen on behalf of someone from her dream. Someone inside a crystal, who could no longer cry themselves. "So this is... Ah." Elisabeth took another look around. The place they were in was most peculiar indeed. For one, everything she could see was hard. That was due to the boulders piled up all around them. Kaito and Hina's crystal was narrowly wedged in between them, and the two of them were sleeping peacefully in the darkness of the boulders' shadows. However, there were also a series of sunbeams streaming down on them from overhead. By following the golden rays with her gaze, she could make out the heavens far, far above. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the sky above was clear and sunny. Its deep blue contrasted against the two mountain ranges that towered high up into it. Their peaks were misshapen, evidence of the magical explosion they'd been subjected to. The boulders piled around them were the remnants of those shattered peaks, but before the explosion, the area had been home to some humble abodes and horribly mangled corpses. The alchemists who lived there had willingly sacrificed themselves to give birth to the golden Torture Princess, and now they were all buried beneath the boulders. The area had been destroyed, just as they intended. In short, Elisabeth and Vlad were at the alchemists' hidden village. The birthplace of Jeanne de Rais. "So we reached the destination safely, then... I visited this place but once, after hearing of it from Jeanne and coming in hopes of learning something from the magical traces here. And what's more, that was over two years ago. Impressive, I should think, that I made it here successfully under such conditions. I really am a genius... Wait, what of my wound?" Elisabeth turned her gaze over to her shoulder. When she did, she found herself struck speechless. There was a bandage wrapped around it. Whoever tied it had evidently tried to do so carefully, but their results were clumsy at best. Elisabeth lifted the bandage to check on the wound. It was healing quite nicely, and the flesh had successfully knit itself back together. However, she clearly didn't have Vlad to thank—pointless acts like "wrapping it in a bandage, just in case" weren't exactly his style. But then...who? Elisabeth fumbled through her vague memories. Indistinct flashes of the final bits rose to the forefront of her mind. A sad face disappearing. A familiar figure vanishing. Reaching out and being unable to find their slender fingers. Trying to beg them not to go but being unable to speak. Everything growing hazy. And then, for a moment, feeling like she saw a shadowy figure. However, that too fluttered away into the darkness. "A shadowy figure...fluttering? A figure...in tattered rags, perhaps?" It was unclear how much was dream and how much was reality but either way, everything came crumbling down. "No, it can't be." There was only one person she could think of who fit that description. But Elisabeth shook her head. He was dead. He had cast himself into the abyss, sacrificing himself to fulfill the role allotted to him by his mother. Never again would he return. Suddenly, a deep voice rumbled out. It belonged to a black dog, and it rang with a deep, intense boredom. "So what do you intend to do, foolish child?" "About what, Kaiser? What is it you're asking me?" Elisabeth responded to the vague query as befitted such a question, and the supreme hound slammed his tail against the ground in irritation. As cracks splintered across the boulders near the impact site, he roughly gestured its supple black mass toward the crystal. "It should go without saying that I'm asking what you plan to do with that. Such an ugly ruckus, this business about handing it over and smashing it and so forth. As always, humans are utterly incapable of making sound decisions." Normally, the human condition lay beyond demonic understanding. However, that particular beast had come to know hatred, and as such probably had a better handle on the rebels' motivations than most. However, he wasn't finished. "And that goes for you, too. Mankind's shallow deeds are misguided and fraught with error, each and every one of them. All this nonsense comes far too late. "Eventually, the end of days would surely come once more. "Geh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh, fu-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh, geh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh." When he laughed, his voice sounded almost human. Their imminent crisis was only the tip of the iceberg. A true, final end was coming. It was an ominous, despair-inducing prediction and to it, Elisabeth gave a resigned nod. Now then, it's time for a story. A tale of reality told as would be a fairy tale. A tale of God and Diablo. Such was the manner in which Vlad eloquently began his speech. "Three years ago, the world very nearly met a tragic end." However, that seemingly immutable fate was altered by a single individual. After burdening himself with God and Diablo, the boy fell into a deep slumber at the World's End. Thanks to his deeds, the people of the world managed to avoid the apocalypse. The greatest good for the greatest number was, surely, the greatest outcome. One could say they all lived happily ever after. But whenever someone's story ends, there are some things that yet remain. With its lease on life renewed, the world continued on. But the bells would eventually toll on a new curtain's rise. "...For that is the way bells and curtains are. And oh, how they toll! God and Diablo—entities with the power to destroy and rebuild worlds—exist. And now, all three races are now fully aware of their existence!" Now everyone knew that there was a way to destroy the world. The true menace, the true threat, was the survivors' changed perceptions. After all, the true value of information lay in its ability to set people's minds in motion. And now that everyone knew that the world was something that can be ended, the end of days was no longer a pipe dream or a legend. It was oh-so-very real. "'The end of days cometh, and destroying the world is an attainable feat.' With that fact proven, people will undoubtedly come out of the woodwork to try it for themselves. And in a sense, they won't even be doing it maliciously. For you see..." "'What kind of villain sees a chance to turn the world on its head and doesn't take it,' was it?" Elisabeth took over for the closing remarks, and Vlad nodded in agreement. She was self-aware enough to realize what was going on. The mob's decision had been mistaken, but the Torture Princess's response had amounted to little more than grandstanding. On a long enough timeline, temporarily hiding Kaito Sena in an attempt to keep God and Diablo safe or destroying the vessel to return them to the ether would both end the same way. At the moment, the strongest thing mankind could summon was the Kaiser, apex of the fourteen demons. But now that it had been conclusively proved that the reconstruction happened, it was only a matter of time before more and more people began trying to summon God and Diablo. Having a clear goal allowed mankind to reach it in far fewer years than would otherwise be required. Astronomic as the odds were, having God and Diablo under control like this was still far better than having someone else summon them and return the world to nothingness. One way or the other, though, ruin would eventually come. No matter what option they chose. After all, this world was but an unwanted child born from a single woman's despair. As such, it was in its nature to eventually end. Every option led down the same road—all they were doing was delaying the inevitable. And so to save this world in the truest sense of the word... ...would require freeing it from the God and Diablo system altogether. The Kaiser, an entity above all that, scoffed at the folly of man. "Your human perspectives are too puny to grasp it all, I imagine. But from my vantage on high, it's plain to see that even with the end of days averted, it will eventually come to pass all the same. Two points in time, all but overlapping... And in that sense, my previous unworthy master, Accumulation of Seventeen Years' Pain, is the greatest dunce of you all. And yet... "...I find it hard to imagine him being that blind." The final words escaped the Kaiser's mouth as little more than a murmur. His tone betrayed a surprising amount of confidence in Kaito Sena. Vlad's unpleasant smile widened. He opened his mouth, ostensibly to poke fun at the Kaiser. Wanting to avoid having a fight break out, Elisabeth made to stop him. At the last moment, though, she found something more pressing to comment on. "Now, would you be so kind as to tell me why you followed us here...Lute?" "My deepest apologies. The thing is, I was actually at the World's End back then as well." A timid voice she was well familiar with rose up in reply, and a copper-furred wolfman made his way out from behind the crystal. Neither Vlad nor the Kaiser offered any reaction. Apparently, Elisabeth was the only one who hadn't noticed him. She clicked her tongue, annoyed at her own oversight. Perhaps she really was going soft. Upon hearing that, Lute's tail curled into a ball. He clearly thought it had been directed at him. However, Elisabeth waved her hand to dispel the misconception, and Lute's flattened tail and ears returned to their usual state. Still nervously cowering a little, he went on. "I must say, that battle was a thing of beauty. But right as I was watching in secret, utterly transfixed, the saint fired off her unauthorized attack, and things immediately got chaotic. She must have been concerned for Madam Izabella's safety, I imagine. Anyhow, I took advantage of the confusion to slip into the teleportation circle. As for why..." "How you got here is beside the point—so long as you've no intention of turning on me, that is. This reason of yours is what concerns me—" "And you want to know what he plans on doing now, I imagine." A response came, but the voice it belonged to wasn't Lute's. Lute bowed low and took a step backward. A panther-headed beastman strode forth to take his place. His night-hued frame was adorned with a cloak of white wolf fur and a military uniform of the finest make. His fur was short, his figure was lean, and he carried himself with majesty and grace. Elisabeth narrowed her eyes. Even she knew who he was. He was nowhere near as renowned as the first imperial princess, Valisisa Ula Forstlast the Dynast, or the second imperial princess, Vyade Ula Forstlast the Wise Wolf, but he too had been named as a member of the imperial family by the Three Kings of the Forest. As far as age was concerned, he was Valisisa's junior

and Vyade's senior. "First prince Vyadryavka Ula Forstlast." Elisabeth spoke the man's name. He nodded, then gave his cloak a flourish. It flared out behind him, and the ornamental peafowl feathers on his shoulders fluttered along with it. Then, as Elisabeth looked at him in puzzlement, he made his move. Without a shred of hesitation, the first imperial beastfolk prince knelt before the Torture Princess. Then, still on one knee, he gave Elisabeth a deep bow. She regarded him with suspicion. "What's this now?" "It's quite simple, Torture Princess Elisabeth Le Fanu. I kneel before you with a humble request. We can no longer place our trust in the humans. But you are a different matter, and my people have a score that still needs settling." "And what score is that?" "Our emotions run deep, and our honor runs deeper. My sisters were murdered, and we will not take that lying down. So as such..." One of Vyadryavka's fists was pressed against the ground, and he clenched it tight. Elisabeth thought back. Some of the demi-humans had betrayed humanity and sided with those of mixed race. In contrast, the beastfolk had maintained the status quo. However, it was clear to demi-humans and beastfolk alike that the humans could no longer be trusted. So what were the beastfolk to do? The answer was right before her. "...we intend to receive the betrayer of humanity as an honored guest." The first imperial beastfolk prince made his declaration. His aim was as Vyade's had been when she extended her invitation to Kaito all those years ago: to pick up a blade the humans cast aside in order to do battle with it. 6 The Final Intermission The room was as red as always the chess pieces atop the board were in utter disarray and there was a woman crying into her tea. She was a young woman with lustrous silver hair, and her tears fell without end, their artificial fluids rolling down her pale cheeks one after another. She was an automaton, so the tears were fake. But her sorrow was as real as could be. She let out a quiet murmur, her thoughts still with the one who had just left. "Lady Elisabeth..." There was no answer. The Torture Princess had been stroking her head and saying kind things to her mere moments ago, but now she was gone. That was the bitter truth. Hina looked up at the red ceiling and bawled like a baby. "Hey, Hina. I'm home." Suddenly, another voice echoed through the room. That in and of itself was odd. After all, the room was completely sequestered from the outside world. It had no windows. It had no doors. It was distant from everything. Nobody could leave it. And nobody could come in. It was almost like a graveyard. Or perhaps a prison. And in that place, that place where nobody ought to be "Welcome back, Master Kaito." Hina dried her tears and greeted her beloved husband as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "Welcome back, Captain Elisabeth!" "Welcome back, Madam Elisabeth!" The chorus of voices all blended together. Standing before Elisabeth were her Peace Brigade subordinates, all lined up in a row. Elisabeth was so surprised she froze up. At the moment, she was at Vyadryavka's primary residence. She had come there after accepting his invitation, but upon her arrival, she found herself greeted by a number of people she knew. Whatever she'd been expecting, that certainly hadn't been it. Just like Vyade's manor, the building was crafted from stone, and its walls and ceilings were decorated with all manner of live ivy, flowers, and embroidered tapestries. Each member of the imperial family had a unique insignia that reflected their personality, and Vyadryavka's was an elaborate design that incorporated grapes, two panthers, and three species of ivy. In short, the halls were finely adorned, a fact well accentuated by the slanted rays of golden light streaming in from outside. And amid all that decor, there was a full lineup of familiar rugged faces. To put it mildly, Elisabeth had no idea what to make of it. She leaned over to Lute, beside her, and quietly asked him to fill her in. "Wait... After the tragedy with Vyade Ula Forstlast, her Peace Brigade was reassigned to the World Tree to protect visiting dignitaries...was it not?" "Well, whenever I mention you to them, they always talk about how much they miss you..." "This was your doing, then?" "As you can see, I brought them all here to Lord Vyadryavka Ula Forstlast's manor." "All of them?! This is absurd! Think of all the trouble this must be causing!" Her voice still quiet, Elisabeth fired off a sharp rebuke. She may have been the Torture Princess, but she was also their captain, and it was her job to speak up when her subordinates were out of line. However, the culprits in question were collectively all smiles and grins. Given how calm they all seemed, she could only surmise that they'd obtained the necessary permissions to come. In fact, their whole ambience was so terrifyingly welcoming that even the Torture Princess was powerless before its might. Elisabeth spoke in a strained tone. "...Er, erm...I'm back?" "Welcome home, Captain! Excellent work out there!" Her men spoke in unison, their heels all perfectly lined up. Elisabeth tilted her head, just as flummoxed as before. It hardly seemed like an appropriate response. Not only was she currently on the run from the humans, but this wasn't even her castle. Welcoming her home hardly made any sense whatsoever. Beside her, though, Vlad puffed up his chest with satisfaction. "Ah, what a delightful reception. I'm back, too." "I'm sorry, but I don't think anyone was talking to you." This time, the reply came from just one of her subordinates, a dog-headed beastman who was quite proud of his short black-and-white-spotted fur. Although he had panicked during the raid on the second imperial princess's residence, he was generally hailed for his composed temperament, and his attitude toward Vlad was as cold as ice. Vlad replied with a malevolent grin. "Heh-heh-heh. You have nerve, I'll give you that." However, the brewing tension was nipped in the bud by Elisabeth's subordinates lugging over a heavy package. The package in question was a basket woven from vegetable fiber, and its interior was loaded with thick cloth. Elisabeth tilted her head to the side yet again. Lute's ears perked up. "Oh, would you rather start with a bath, then?" "Lute...I want you to take a moment and think about what you just said. A single moment, if you would. Just one." That was enough to give even Elisabeth pause. Why in the world would she want to take a bath? Sure, Vyadryavka wasn't there at the moment. He had sought out Elisabeth after hearing Lute's report and advice, but according to him, he had put off a prior arrangement to do so. It must have been rather important, as he left immediately after inviting her. His fur was practically standing on end... What could it be? Because of that, Elisabeth was hardly in any sort of mood for relaxation. However, Lute seemed earnestly surprised by her response. The Peace Brigade's members were many things, but blessed with social awareness was not one of them. Upon seeing her reaction, a sheep-headed subordinate of hers raised his hand and spoke, his voice brimming with confidence. "Ah, right you are! Forgive us for being so insensitive, Captain. We all know how much you love to eat, so we should have known that you'd want to have dinner first!" "Once things settle down, remind me to dock your pay for disrespecting a superior." Elisabeth's tone made it clear she was being quite serious. The sheepman leaped back with shock. "No!" Elisabeth shook her head in exasperation. Is there anyone around here with a lick of common sense? Then she felt a soft tap on her shoulder. She turned, only to have her eyes go wide when she was greeted by yet another familiar face. It was a goat-headed beastwoman with intelligent eyes. She was a healer who worked at the World Tree as well as Lute's beloved wife. "Why, Ain, it's you. I hadn't imagined even you would be here." "Lute told me about what happened and about the injury you suffered. I finished my work quickly today so I could come. Now, let's see what we're dealing with. Come, come—be quick about it." "Wait, stop, there's no need to— Someone help me!" Ain was a preeminent healer, but her methods were forceful to say the least. Elisabeth's men knew just how terrifying she could be...and they also knew better than to get in her way. Tragically, that meant there was nobody to stop Ain from capturing Elisabeth. She unraveled Elisabeth's bandage without letting her get so much as a word in edgewise, exposing her smooth shoulder. Ain narrowed her eyes as she looked the wound over. Then, clearly satisfied, she let Elisabeth go. The moment Elisabeth got free, she leaped backward with a feline hiss. Ain gave her a composed nod. "It's not bad. Despite how ugly the wound is, it's healing surprisingly well. By tomorrow, there won't be so much as a scar. One thing I can't abide, though, is how dreadfully that bandage was wound. That said, it's about what I would expect from a skilled mage overly used to relying on their magic. Did you bind it yourself?" "Nay, not I! Although... A skilled mage, you say...?" Elisabeth trailed off as she sank into thought. That cloth from before fluttered through her mind and then faded back into the darkness. She wasn't certain if he had been able to use magic, but she still couldn't think of anyone else who might fit. Sensing that Elisabeth was preoccupied, Ain turned to go. She certainly wasn't boorish enough to meddle in other people's business. Suddenly, though, she turned back and spoke in a sharp tone. "The bath I've prepared for you is highly medicinal. I expect you to take it." "...Yes, Doctor." Elisabeth raised her hands in defeat. And with that, her men carried off the basket, wagging their tails as they went. Regular bathing wasn't really a part of the beastfolk custom. However, what they lacked in quantity they made up in quality, and noble beastfolk would generally use large, public baths filled with flowers and fragrant herbs. The room Elisabeth now found herself soaking in was no exception. Red flower petals were even strewn glamorously across the water's surface. It was a wholly unnecessary flourish and one she suspected had been added for her benefit. After her bath, a lady-in-waiting led Elisabeth to her room. The beastfolk held nature in high regard, as evidenced by the vegetation adorning the guest room's stone walls. After they first learned to use fire, their early attempts at constructing buildings suitable for their climate led them to develop a technique where they combined stone with various other materials. The room Elisabeth occupied was simply another one of the fruits of that technique. Everything about it, from its sunlight-accommodating windows and hay-stuffed mattress to the carpets on its floor, were the exact same as they'd been in Vyade's guest room. Elisabeth let out a small sigh. She was feeling a most uncharacteristic emotion. However, her time working for Vyade had by no means been short. Not even she could escape nostalgia's pangs. ...But now she is dead. The Wise Wolf was gone. And even Elisabeth could tell how much their master's death was affecting her men. They were putting on brave faces, but it was taking all they had to do so. Valisisa Ula Forstlast had also been slain, but her subordinates were taking her death a little differently. After all, the Dynast's men were a group of battle-hardened soldiers, and they were no strangers to loss. For them, not being able to

settle the score with her killer was eating away at them day after day. Elisabeth had been hearing about their frustration for some time. 'Twould seem Vyadryavka is keeping in close contact with their commanding officers. Earlier, Elisabeth had spotted one of them in the hallway. He'd had a dangerous look in his eyes, and his hand had been resting on his sword's handle. Even outside of battle, Valisisa's men were making no efforts to hide the fury bubbling up inside them. Embers of conflict were smoldering even there. Elisabeth shook her head. She sat down on the bed and flopped backward without so much as turning around. Then she took a look at the bandage she was carrying. She had tried analyzing it on the off chance she'd find something, but it really was just an ordinary piece of cloth. In fact, there weren't even residual traces of mana on it. In terms of identifying its owner, it was utterly useless to her, and yet something about it felt inexplicably familiar. She could have sworn she'd never seen it before, but it felt nostalgic to her all the same. She squeezed the cloth strip tight, as though she were squeezing a hand. "...If you let your guard down in a situation like this, you might well end up dead, you know. What is it that commands your attention so, O daughter of mine?" "Well, I was just musing on how wretched a man would have to be to barge in on a woman he ostensibly calls his daughter. What the hell are you doing in here?!" As Elisabeth shouted, she magically hardened her pillow and hurled it at Vlad for his troubles. He took a step back and raised his hands in a show of surrender. "Worry not—even compared to my old friend the Grand King, your build is too modest by half. There's no need for that particular type of concern, I'm merely being considerate of my daughter's— Okay, well, see now, that one would have actually killed me! Ha-ha!" With a laugh, Vlad sidestepped the guillotine rushing down on him from overhead. However, that left him unable to react to the elliptical hole that opened under his feet, and he disappeared into it so quickly it was like he'd never been there at all. That was thanks to the torture device Elisabeth had used to create a space under the floor. Death Row Cell had no windows. It had no doors. 'Tis perfect for giving him time to reflect on his actions. She shrugged, then sat back down on the bed. Right when she was about to get comfortable, though, Vlad's voice echoed up from within his confinement. "Hey, daughter of mine, would you be so kind as to let me out? The floor's a little too hard to get any decent sleep in here." "The fact that you immediately tried lying down and sleeping is impressive, in its own way. I think you're fine just where you are." "Ah, how the rebellious phase drags on... I will say this, though." Vlad paused for a few seconds. With his echoey words gone, only silence remained. When he spoke again, his voice was far more earnest than she'd expected. "When I said you could die if you let your guard down, I was being serious. I really am worried about you." There was nothing quite so ominous as a jester removing his makeup. Elisabeth let out a small exhale. She offered no reply to Vlad's message of concern. Instead, she merely closed off the hole. If Vlad got bored, he could always just break the spell to escape. She never intended the cell to actually hold him. Elisabeth then spread her arms wide and flopped backward for the second time. For some reason, she was dead tired. She slowly closed her eyes and gave herself over to the drowsiness. All of a sudden, though, her eyes snapped back open. At the same time, a knock echoed out from the door. Elisabeth succinctly gave them permission to come in. "Enter." "Pardon me, Madam Elisabeth." Lute did as instructed, then saluted as he gave his message. "Lord Vyadryavka Ula Forstlast has returned." "I must say, I was shocked when Ain told me she was pregnant." As the two of them headed to see Vyadryavka, Lute suddenly broached the subject. He'd clearly been wanting to talk about it for some time. Now joined by the sound of his voice, their footsteps echoed through the wide hallway. "It's taken a long time, but we've finally been granted the greatest blessing a person can receive. I can hardly even begin to describe how happy I am. But at the same time...I feel like I just don't know anymore." Lute murmured quickly, practically speaking to himself. He probably wasn't looking for any sort of response yet, so Elisabeth continued listening to him in silence. Instead, she glanced around the hallway. The sun had already set, and their surroundings were dim. Desert lilies bloomed a brilliant white against the still darkness. A gift from the demi-humans, no doubt. As the two of them strode on, the flowers receded behind them. Now there was nothing much to see at all, and Lute continued. "If my son or daughter were taken hostage, would I truly be able to make the right decision? What would I be willing to sacrifice, and what would I cling tight to?" "...Hmm." "Oh, what am I saying? That's no way for a vice-captain to talk! Ha-ha, don't mind me. I meant nothing by it." Lute laughed, but it came out raw and forced, and his tail was drooping. Elisabeth knew exactly what had given rise to his worries. She turned her thoughts to what Aguina Elephabred said to them back in the demi-human lands. "Of course. No amount of grieving, boasting, laughing, or crying will change who I am or what I need to do. Why not be brazen about it, then? And also, Sir Lute, back to my original topic... "My son and his family live in that settlement." He betrayed everything, became an enemy of the world. 'Tis only reasonable he be denounced and despised by all. And yet... He never betrayed his family, nor did he betray his race. Depending on how history played out, he might well be remembered as a hero. However, he could just as easily be remembered as a laughingstock of a fool, with people coming to mock even his grave. But either way, his wife would take pride in what he did. And even so, she sold him out to protect her son. Each and every person has different things they hold precious. Or as someone once put it, "In their heart of hearts, everyone has just one thing that truly matters to them." No two scales ever tilted quite the same way. Upon remembering that fact, Elisabeth opened her mouth and spoke. "Justice takes a different form for everyone. All you can do is follow a path that shan't leave you with regrets. If you become my enemy, I shall strike you down, and if I become yours, you shall strike me down in turn. That's all there is to it. But know that yours is a blade I trust." Lute stopped in his tracks and looked at her in shock. Beastfolk expressions were difficult to read, but in that moment, Elisabeth was keenly reminded how that barrier could be overcome with familiarity and experience. She continued conveying her sentiments to her subordinate. "You're an honest man, and you were a good friend to Kaito Sena. You've earned that trust well." Elisabeth said the words as though she were stating the obvious. This time, it was Lute's turn to open his mouth. His jaw dropped as he stared at Elisabeth in surprise. A good few moments passed before he shook his head to compose himself. With a loud click, he snapped his heels together and bowed deep. "I fear you think too much of me, but it is an honor nonetheless." "Do I? I thought it a rather deserved assessment myself." "...You know, Madam Elisabeth, you really are the best captain a man could ever ask for." "Hmm? I don't see how you got that from anything I just said." Elisabeth raised an eyebrow. All she had done was give voice to her honest thoughts. Lute raised his head with a terribly serious look in his eyes. He started to say something but stopped and shook his head. "No disrespect meant, but...," he prefaced his reply, "...that's something you'll have to figure out for yourself someday, Madam Elisabeth." "...You're a strict one, aren't you?" As the response sprang naturally from her mouth, Elisabeth thought back. Long ago, in a rattling carriage, Hina had told her the exact same thing. "That's something you'll have to figure out for yourself someday, Lady Elisabeth. It wouldn't mean anything if I just told you," she had said with a finger playfully raised in front of her lips. Elisabeth had never gotten a clear answer to Hina's question from that day, and the chance to check her guesses had now been lost to her. Elisabeth closed her eyes for a few short seconds, then resumed her stride. At some point, the golden sunbeams lighting the corridor had been overtaken and replaced by silver moonbeams whose hue so matched the hair of a person she held most dear. The two of them continued briskly down the corridor. Eventually, they could hear a voice off in the distance. Someone was angrily shouting. However, there was no sign that anyone had bumped into them, nor did it seem to be directed at the lady-in-waiting standing outside the entrance. In fact, it didn't seem to be directed at anyone else at all. Those were the shouts of a man possessed. Elisabeth raised an eyebrow. Something was clearly up. Soon, the foyer came into view, and with it, the shouter pacing agitatedly around it. "Again, again with this! It's okay, though, I still got a bite. I still got permission for my audience tomorrow. I'll do it...I'll do it, dammit! I'll get those three to take action! No matter what it takes, even if it costs me my life! No matter what it takes! I—ah, Madam Elisabeth." Suddenly, Vyadryavka whirled around. His white wolf cloak swayed as he gave her an almost intoxicated bow. He was riled up and dead tired, and his body smelled faintly of blood. Elisabeth furrowed her brow, wondering what the hell he had been up to. As far as she could tell, though, he wasn't wounded, nor did he appear to have anyone else's blood on him, either. It seemed unlikely he had just come from a fight. But what, then? "Your wound is healed, I hope?" he asked. "...I do apologize, by the way, for inviting you and then taking off so suddenly." "...Goodness, your voice is so hoarse I can barely understand you." "Ah, that... Ha-ha, I may have overused my throat a bit, yes. No need to worry about me, though." That was the answer—the bloody scent was coming from inside his mouth. He must really have run his throat ragged. Elisabeth replied with silence. Lute did the same. Talking to Vyadryavka now would accomplish little, as his heart was clearly elsewhere. After bowing once more, he began walking again. Several ladies-in-waiting hurriedly followed after him. As he scratched at his brow, he started muttering. "That's right... It's unforgivable. Unforgivable. I will have my revenge. No matter what it takes. No matter what it takes. No matter what it takes." Elisabeth could see full well that the look in his eyes was the same as in Valisisa's soldiers'. Just like them, Vyadryavka was making no effort to hide the intense fury he felt toward his enemies. Once again, Elisabeth realized something. Ah. How right you are, Vlad. She really might end up dead if she

let her guard down. Things had been peaceful that day, but even that calm was nothing more than a fleeting illusion. The tranquility was but an intermission in the farce. And before long, the show would begin again to cheers and thunderous applause. When that happened, those scant peaceful hours would vanish like they'd never been there. And what's more, she was sure that this would be the play's final intermission. 7 The Kings' Advent The room was as red as always and the pieces atop its chessboard were in utter disarray. However, things around the simple desk were quiet. At it, two people sat across from each other. Steam wafted up from their freshly brewed cups of tea, and there was a plate adorned with a small pile of cookies. Time passed peacefully there. They shared no conversation, although they did look up and nod from time to time to set the other's mind at ease. They both rested one hand by the chessboard, each squeezing the other's tight. However, that peaceful time of theirs soon came to an abrupt end. The intermission was over. Suddenly, the chessboard shook. It rattled ever louder, and its surface began rumbling. It was as though the earth itself was roaring. Kaito Sena leaned forward. From there, he could see the board's tumultuous change in its entirety. Something was appearing on it. Kaito's eyes went wide. Then, in a low voice, he spoke. "...Here they come." "My esteemed colleagues, I thank you all for coming here once again. Now, without further ado, let us be seated!" A dignified voice rang out over the large round table. Yet again, they were gathered at the underground conference room beneath the World Tree. A few days had passed since Elisabeth accepted the first imperial prince's invitation. Sensing that the time was upon them, Vyadryavka Ula Forstlast had summoned the three races' representatives together. However, the dignitaries had problems in their own lands to worry about. The rebellion hadn't stopped, nor had the massacres. Cold looks lingered in their gazes at Vyadryavka having taken valuable time from them that could be spent dealing with their domestic emergencies. Despite the reception he was getting, though, the sharply dressed panther-headed beastman merely replied with a calm bow. Puzzled looks spread across the dignitaries' faces. The humans and demi-humans were one thing, but not even the lower-ranked members of the beastfolk imperial family understood what was going on. However, their expressions soon turned to ones of comprehension, each sporting a different shade of it but all possessing it just the same. "It seems like something's changed." "I wouldn't have expected this, not from someone who's neither the Dynast nor the Wise Wolf." "Still, though, that confidence of his doesn't seem baseless." "And confidence is often rooted in strength." "From money, from armed might, from powerful backing." "Or sometimes..." "Well, let's just hope it isn't madness or delusion." "What is it he decided? What is it he obtained?" In any case, I imagine that's what most of them are thinking. Elisabeth glanced around at the representatives and nodded. Everyone there was highly capable, and together, they formed the nucleus of society. They were not idiots. Unwittingly, she had come to much of the same conclusion that Kaito Sena once had. With a flourish, Vyadryavka raised his arm out to the side. A blue ring gleamed on his middle finger. "Now, I know you're all busy people, which is why I should start with an apology. The reason I called you here today was to inform you of events that have already been set in motion." A wave of restlessness swept through the room. Some people even slammed the table and rose up from their chairs. They were hasty reactions, to be sure, but the situation had everyone on edge. At the moment, high spirits were a scarce commodity. One of Maclaeus's advisers leaned over and whispered something to the Royal Knight beside him. Suddenly, the young king took the initiative, rising to his feet to dissuade anyone from making any rash decisions. The room went silent. Perfectly composed, Maclaeus faced Vyadryavka and spoke. "Would you mind elaborating? Given that you chose to call us here to make this announcement, I assume there was meaning in doing so. There would have had to have been. Do I presume rightly, Lord Vyadryavka Ula Forstlast?" "You do indeed, King Maclaeus Filliana. Now, allow me to say what needs to be said." The two nobles exchanged a glance from across the pure-white round table. Elisabeth frowned and thought back to the records she read after the end of days. That was the same table where Valisisa the Dynast and Kaito Sena the Mad King had played out their battle. Now Vyadryavka was imitating his older sister as he stood before it. In truth, nothing he was doing or saying was anything but base mimicry. There was a reason he had never made a name for himself while his sisters were still alive—he knew full well just how stunted a vessel he was. And that was precisely why he knew that he needed to become larger than himself. The situation called for a dramatic change. And to make that happen, the first imperial prince would have to become capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with his sisters. He holds the Dynast and Wise Wolf in great esteem. And he held particular adoration for the first princess, as I recall... It was a silly little thing, but the first imperial prince's stance on the Dynast and the Wise Wolf was rooted in simple love. During her stay at his manor, Vyadryavka had told Elisabeth a story. "When I was young, I asked Valisisa to teach me how to use a sword, and I got Vyade to patch me up afterward. I couldn't let my subordinates find out, you see. Because of an incident where a member of the imperial family murdered another and tried to pass it off as a tragic dueling accident, we were prohibited from so much as martial training. My sister railed against that restriction, though, saying that one dishonorable half-wit did not a people make as she knocked me off my feet over and over and over. 'You need to be stronger,' she would tell me. 'Weaklings are a disgrace to the imperial family...' And then Vyade would have to come comfort me, telling me that kindness was just as important as strength. Ah, how frustrating those days we shared were and what fun we had!" ...'Tis nigh impossible to tell a man with such sparkling eyes not to base his decisions off something such as that. When you got right down to it, the mixed-race people started their rebellion for exactly the same reason. It was the simplest reason imaginable, but it was rooted in a heavy truth. "Someone they wished was alive had been killed." That, as always, was what gave rise to the flag called revenge. Vyadryavka's white wolf fur cloak flapped showily behind him as he began his proclamation. "Our lands are in chaos, to say nothing of our hearts. And waging a war of attrition is hardly an option, not when we have no idea how much stronger the Fremd Torturchen may yet grow and not when we have no idea what other weapons our foes may have in store. The rebels will bide their time, waiting for us to fall further into disarray, and when they come at us, they will come at us hard. The pressure is on us to act—and to act now. Give me the map!" When Vyadryavka barked out the order, Vlad gave a scornful laugh from Elisabeth's side. "Well I see someone's being a bit of a taskmaster. Would it kill him to say 'please'?" Despite his grumbling, though, he snapped his fingers all the same. Azure petals and black darkness swirled up before the round table, etching a large map in midair. There was a red mark on the vast desert that spanned much of its top half. Vyadryavka slammed his fist into the mark. "We've identified their hiding spot! Right here!" When his hand made contact, the map shattered. A shower of petals cascaded throughout the conference room. Amid the azure storm, a stir ran through the dignitaries. Elisabeth frowned. Vyadryavka's performance was flashy—almost excessively so. However, even though the people there had only seen it for a moment, that coordinate was now etched into their brains. Such was the power of Vlad's red mark. Before they had a chance to recover from the shock, the panther-headed beastman went on. "We have visual confirmation on both Lewis and Alice, as well as a number of demon grandchildren. There can be no doubt that this is the mixed-race forces' main stronghold—and that now is the time to strike!" For a moment, the room was cloaked in absolute silence. Then it was as loud as if a bomb had gone off. It was a natural reaction. After all, unilaterally deciding to invade should have been completely off the table. There were people shouting at him for acting out of turn, people calmly trying to point out how dangerous it would be, people complaining that this wasn't the plan—and they all blended together, echoing through the room like a buzzing swarm of insects. Everyone kept shouting and shouting, trying desperately to be heard in that bee's nest of a conference room. Elisabeth gazed at the chaos from the window. What Vyadryavka had done was inelegant, but that wasn't to say she opposed it. Endings always come swiftly, like meteors descending. That speed and fervor were necessary if they wanted to blow everything away. And they had to, for if they didn't, a calamity would come. A calamity would come. To all the people of the land. That was what they were up against. "And for that sake, there is but one answer—to take sword in hand, folly as it may be." During Vyadryavka's speech, Elisabeth and Vlad weren't actually present at the World Tree. Instead, they were on standby at the Sand Queen's temple over in the demi-human lands. The two of them gazed down at the proceedings through the window of what Vyadryavka's blue ring was perceiving. The reason they were there was to await the results of the second inspection. The first inspection—the one on the Sand Queen's corpse—had long been completed. There had always been a danger that they would run into the human army while conducting their investigation, but as yet, the temple was still quiet. In all likelihood, they had Maclaeus Filliana to thank for that. He must have kept the information he got from Izabella a secret. Viewed favorably, it was because he wanted to let Elisabeth handle it her way, regardless of whether or not she actually had the right to do so. However, he might just as easily have held back because he was concerned the information itself was a trap. After all, it was odd how Aguina's wife had been left behind. Her information was such that they had no choice but to look into it. But due to the fact that it was a potentially dangerous trap, the only one he could afford to have go was the Torture Princess. At the end of the day, though, Elisabeth didn't much care what the king's true motive had been. Either way, it didn't change what she had to do. As a result of her initial inspection, a new piece of information came to light. What she had found was an act of blasphemy and utter sacrilege. It was a teleportation circle, carved atop the Sand Queen's meaty tongue inside her sealed mouth. Normally, it wasn't possible to teleport out from the Sand Queen's burial chamber. However, that seal didn't extend to the inside of her mouth. Furthermore, it was a place nobody would ever look without knowing to do so ahead of time. After

all, who would ever imagine a group containing several prominent demi-humans defiling the Sand Queen's mouth like that? That would be like the Grave Keeper abandoning her vows or the Butcher forgetting the Saint. And that was precisely why they picked it. That was what it meant to betray the world. However, one question yet remained. Even if Satisbarina went to the corpse, how would she know where to look? Their working theory was that Aguina's group had fed some of the other purebloods a piece of information that would draw their attention to the Sand Queen's mouth. That way, they wouldn't even realize it was connected to the betrayal, so they would have no reason to bring it up when they were being questioned. Plus, even if the information did leak, it would be meaningless on its own. 'Tis like a nasty bit of wordplay... And what's more, it's harder to decipher the closer one is to the demi-humans. From there, Elisabeth had analyzed the teleportation circle and identified its end point. However, she had refrained from activating it. Running mana through the circle would immediately alert their foes, and sending a familiar or communication device to the site would run a similar risk. Fortunately, though, Elisabeth had a trump card at her disposal that could make the impossible possible. The Kaiser, apex of the fourteen demons. If he went, there was little danger he'd be detected. The only problem was convincing him to go, but much to her surprise, he took on the task with surprisingly little resistance. As always, the Kaiser was a fickle beast. Perhaps he was merely tired of waiting on the sidelines. Thanks to him, they were able to scout the location. Sure enough, Alice and Lewis were at the pureblood settlement, and they were accompanied by a sizable group of those of mixed race. With that, their path was clear. All that remained were the fateful choices. Should they invade or not? And if so, then when? How should they coordinate the three races' forces? Should they send the demi-humans in at all? Who would act as commander? Vyadryavka's proclamation had been abrupt, to be sure, but that certainly wasn't to say his decision had been thoughtless. He was doing it to circumvent the array of interconnected problems bubbling just below the surface. A particular source of concern was the humans. The Torture Princess's flight had given rise to no shortage of scheming and plotting among their ranks, and the longer things drew out, the more people would start weighing their personal ambitions against the risks they carried. Once that happened, even the beastfolk would find themselves forced to start acting more cautiously. And Vyadryavka had another reason for acting the way he did, too. His other motive was related to Vyade's final curse. "Valisisa Ula Forstlast was a precious treasure chosen by the Three Kings of the Forest, as was I. We were royalty, chosen by the Three Kings to serve as special pawns. We were this country's greatest treasures, as well as servants to its people. "...For those who destroy such treasure, the only fitting punishment is death. "For such an act is unforgivable. Till the end of days, you shall never be forgiven—and thus, you shall perish here and now." Those were the Wise Wolf's dying words to Lewis and Alice. It was widely recognized that the Dynast and Wise Wolf were gifted, even for members of the imperial family. That was precisely whom those of mixed race had stolen from them. And to make matters worse, the demi-humans had shamelessly cast aside their age-old friendship to side with the rebels. From there, all that remained was a simple equation. There was no way for them to apologize. Not the slightest chance for atonement. Given those parameters, there was a pretty clear answer. You multiplied hate by resentment, then subtracted those pesky ethics. Then once they carried out their revenge on the second party, the story would come to an end. And if that becomes the common understanding of the beastfolk, as it once did for the mixed-race people... ...then even the unmoving would be driven to take action. On the other side of the window, the chaos was reaching its zenith. Even among the beastfolk, there was no shortage of people calling to proceed with caution. And they weren't even misguided in doing so. With so many uncertainties still at play, there was no one correct option. With the uproar showing no signs of dying down, Vlad gazed at the proceedings and whispered. "Now then—time for the main actors to make their advent." "Our victory is all but assured! Listen...and bear witness!" The words had scarcely left Vyadryavka's mouth when an earsplitting roar rang out. However, the sound wave soon eclipsed the range of their perception. All they could sense of it were the terrible tremors running through the conference room. If anything, though, the fact that it was still quaking despite being silent save for the walls' creaking made it all the more terrifying. Fearing that it was an enemy raid, the knights and soldiers moved to protect their various charges. However, they soon realized that something was amiss. That noise had come from a beast. And what's more, the entire World Tree was shaking. Elisabeth's crimson eyes flashed as she murmured. "I never thought I would live to see the day..." "It can't be... It can't! Is this really happening?" Maclaeus, sharp as ever, let out a cry of abject shock. Due to his astonishment, though, his voice ended up betraying his youth. A moment later, several others who were a bit slower on the uptake gasped in disbelief. Everyone's gazes were fixed on the panther-headed prince. Vyadryavka nodded. This was what he had run his throat ragged for. This was what he had wrung his tear ducts dry for. This was what he had put his life on the line for. He spread his white wolf fur cloak wide. Then he made his announcement with the solemn dignity of a priest. "Yesterday, at long last, we reached an understanding. The Three Kings of the Forest are going to war." Due to the murder of their finest royalty and their betrayal at the hands of their compatriots the demi-humans the Three Kings of the Forest—beings straight out of legend—had been driven to action. 8 The Tragedy's Purpose "Oh, I simply adore chess!" A young girl in leather shoes swung her feet back and forth beneath her seat at the tea party. She laughed, innocent as could be. The red wall was to her back, and her seat was the one straight across from Kaito's—on the side of the enemy army. At present, she was fiddling with the chessboard, snatching pieces up and tossing them back down as suited her fancy. Then three crowned pieces appeared atop the board. They were much larger than the other pieces, and the girl regarded them with great interest. "It's such an odd chess set, what with it having three kings and all! The thing is, see, I don't know the rules all that well. I just think the little pieces look cute. Did you know that Through the Looking-Glass is a story about chess? There's a Red Queen and a White Queen, you see, and the whole story is about their match!" The girl threw out her chest with pride, her red eyes gleaming beneath the brim of her oversized hat. All of a sudden, though, her expression went blank and she spoke in an apathetic murmur. "...Say, why is it you still think this world will amount to anything?" "Forget the pointless question—are you sure you should even be here?" Kaito rested his chin on his hand and answered her question with one of his own. He gazed at the girl with eyes just as emotionless as hers. She dumped a handful of sugar cubes into her cup and puffed up her lips in annoyance as she violently stirred. "Pshaw, it's fine. I'm asleep right now! And you see, in my dream, I followed the scent of something familiar from another world. It was like I was chasing after the White Rabbit... I'm a very good girl, you know. You might not know it, but I can do just about anything! But the way you are now, not even I'm any sort of match for you." The white ribbons adorning the girl's—Alice's—hat slumped down. Her emotions were as bombastic as they were varied. As the Mad King and Fremd Torturchen continued their Mad Tea Party, Alice spoke in the saddest of tones. "Once I wake up, I'll forget that any of this happened. It's better for you that way, right? ...But see, that's how dreams really ought to be. You can't keep your memories from Wonderland once you go back. And Father said the same thing... 'Nightmares are best forgotten,' he told me. He said that he feels sorry for me because I always cry so horribly in my sleep." But what about this? With a small murmur, Alice tilted her cup over. Its red contents spilled out onto the board, and sugar cubes went tumbling and knocked pieces over. However, the maid didn't scold her for her rudeness. Hina merely stood silently by her husband's side. Eventually, Alice seemed satisfied. She gave a big nod. "Well, I suppose either's fine! But since I'm here and all, I may as well wish for it to be a good one—oh, but the pieces have started moving, so I'm going to be woken up. That's quite a shame." Alice poked at the three massive pieces. Each crowned piece bore the form of an intersex beast. One was an ancient wolf, another was a white deer, and the final one was a colossal hawk. As they trampled over her army, Alice spoke in a quiet, singsong voice. "Poor Kaito Sena. Poor Elisabeth. Poor, poor everyone. Someday, you're all going to break." Then a loud crash echoed. Her cup had fallen down. Alice was gone. All that remained was the crimson-soaked chessboard— —and the high-pitched echo of her laughter. The sound of flesh burning filled the air, punctuated by the snapping of bones. Somewhere, someone was being burned. And off in the distance, dragon bones were being crushed underfoot. The earth was searing hot, and the sky was choked with the black of smoke and ash. Great roars rocked the air. The Three Kings were laying out their decree: Burn the earth. Burn the trees. Burn every last blade of grass from the ground. Many of our foes will perish. For that is the price their betrayal commands. Another horrible tremor wracked the ground. Buildings as far as the eye could see shuddered and collapsed into splinters. For a brief moment, a monstrous silhouette appeared amid the burning buildings, and a mixed-race mage desperately firing off spells found himself snatched up by a colossal wolf paw. He screamed and begged for mercy but vanished into the beast's maw all the same. A horrible, graphic noise sounded out, and blood cascaded down like rain. With a thump, a single arm fell back to the ground. It felt like watching the world end. A man garbed in black, standing still in the middle of the chaos, let out a low murmur. "'A calamity cometh. A calamity cometh. To all the people of the land. The coming messenger aims to blow the bugle of the end.' Although, looking at this, perhaps they already have." "Still thy tongue, Vlad. And what are you standing out in the open so brazenly for? Get back here." Elisabeth wrenched Vlad back by his collar. Then she continued dragging him as she proceeded down the side alley. Vlad, in a surprising show of obedience, didn't put up a fight. The settlement made copious use of the surrounding dragon bones in its construction, and the upcoming street corner was fashioned out of one

such skeleton. As she quietly slipped through its open rib cage, Elisabeth spoke. "The front lines are no place for us. Our task lies in the shadows." Meanwhile, demon grandchildren with misshapen wings flew over the main drag. Weaving over the labyrinthine streets, they made for the Three Kings of the Forest like arrows. The air crackled with the sound of their bizarre laughter. However, one sweep of the Three Kings' tails was enough to crush them all like flies. They were outmatched, plain and simple. Elisabeth's thoughts turned as she watched their entrails soar through the air. The gulf in strength and size is simply too vast... Weapons designed to kill people are meaningless against the Three Kings. However, not even an army of summoned beasts would be equal to the task. There are scant few who could mount a resistance against a weapon capable of leveling a nation. The Three Kings of the Forest mowed down everything in their path as they made their advance. Behind them, the beastfolk and human soldiers trampled over the broken corpses of demi-humans, mixed-race people, and buildings. Their armor clanked, and their disorderly footsteps shook the ground as their chaotic advance continued. By and large, the invasion was a complete rout. Cries of successful conquest rose up from the various demon research facilities that had been set up in the underground shelters. Although there were still some areas left to subdue, it had all gone so anticlimactically it hardly even felt like a victory. The conference had taken place just a few short hours ago. Now the dragon bone settlement was a living hellscape. Once the Three Kings of the Forest got moving, the situation developed at a breakneck pace. It was like a boulder rolling down a hill. With no way to stop the Three Kings' march, the smaller beings had no choice but to fall in line so as not to be left behind. However, things ended up going surprisingly smoothly. Maclaeus was able to quickly identify the best course of action, and the paladins and Royal Knights both went along with it. They had already known that a battle with the mixed-race people was imminent, so for them, it was just a matter of assembling as much of their army as possible and using the castle's mages to teleport it so they could join up with the beastfolk. Meanwhile, the beastfolk's decision pulled double duty by forcibly removing the demi-human dignitaries from play. In short, the conference had also served as a trap. As for Vyadryavka, his forces were a hodgepodge consisting of the private armies of the late Dynast and other high-ranking members of the imperial family. The rest of the imperial family's soldiers were assigned to stand guard over the demi-human officials. Then Vyadryavka used the majority of the mage blood the beastfolk had painstakingly collected over generations to teleport both the army and the Three Kings of the Forest as close to the settlement as possible. It was a drastic move, but it got the job done. Once they got close, the mixed-race people sensed their presence, but by then, they had no time to flee. It was like trying to take cover from a tsunami or volcanic eruption with no advance warning. As it turned out, trying to escape a calamity was easier said than done. And that was truly the term that described what struck the pureblood settlement. The demi-human lands were home to golden sand, harsh winds, burning liquids, and myriad minerals mass-produced in the Dragons' Graveyard. Of the various graveyards, the pureblood settlement was located in the one with the least raw mineral ore and where the dragon bones were all largely in their original states. As a result, the bleached bone surrounding the settlement cloaked it in the constant reek of death. Despite that, though, the townscape itself was fairly posh. Its sandstone houses were decorated with jewel-and-metal charms, hand-sewn sunshades, and various succulents. There was also a temple deep within the settlement, albeit a fair shake smaller than the real one, and the path leading to it was dyed vermilion. They had done their best to leave the dragon bones as is and work around them, so the paths were intricate and winding, but all in all, the settlement was laid out in much the same way as the demi-human first sector. Due to the increased population from those of mixed race, it was almost like a small nation. Now, though, most of it had been obliterated. The Three Kings' march was destruction incarnate—a wave of pure, unbridled chaos. Everything they touched got demolished and consumed in their unforgiving wake. Against them, the very concept of order shattered and fell. Seeing them in action made Elisabeth keenly aware of why they had so obstinately refused to take the stage up until then. They were simply too powerful. 'Twould make a right mess of things, having power incarnate dictating national policy. That was probably why they had refrained from acting during the end of days, too. If they had made an appearance back then, it would have slowly but surely shifted the world's power balance toward the three of them. They were creatures of a bygone era, and they respected modern society too much to let that happen. That was why they only acted through the imperial family and stuck largely to their role as spectators. Even as more and more of the world's power balance shifted toward the humans, the Three Kings of the Forest had remained steadfast in their nonintervention. And if natural selection had slowly taken its course, they would probably have stayed that way. But then their beloved children were destroyed by an act that fell outside of that natural course. And what's more, a brother of the fallen shed tears and lifeblood to make a desperate plea to them. "Please grant us your strength," he begged. "Please, bless us with your compassion." So now they were making a once-in-a-lifetime march. The colossal hawk flapped its wings, shattering the bones that surrounded the settlement. The white deer hooves trampled houses and people alike. And the ancient wolf's fangs mowed down the survivors. Their foes tried to resist with all manner of weapons and magic, but the Three Kings' sheer power crushed them one and all. Many of the corpses they left in their wake were reduced to little more than piles of blood and viscera. For others, nothing remained but a single arm or leg. Several times now, Elisabeth had tried to look up at the Three Kings as they conducted their brutal savageries. Even so, she had yet to grasp their full forms. There were countless bits and fragments burned into her retinas—sleek fur, majestic wings, an array of udders, limbs that stretched into the sky, and bestial eyes that looked like full moons—but she couldn't reconcile them into cohesive wholes. Her brain simply refused to comprehend the Three Kings. All she could tell was that they were mighty, they were beautiful, and they were terrifying. They, too, were beings that superseded human comprehension. Their march, in comparison, almost called to mind a parade—it was lavish and majestic and overwhelming. It was like something that would be thrown to celebrate a king's return. Everything about it was so ludicrously beyond the scope the smaller beings operated at. A dispassionate thought crossed Elisabeth's mind. This is no battle. The beastfolk were done grieving. This was their anger given form. Your deeds are as haughty as they are heinous, the Three Kings howled. As such, it falls on us to lop off your sinful heads. It falls on us to spill rivers of your blood, stack mountains of your corpses, and reduce you all to ash. Ironically, it was the same message as the mixed-race proclamation. For in the end, that was what revenge boiled down to. The rebel army had been well prepared to defend themselves, even against a fairly sizable force. However, they hadn't planned for the Three Kings' march. Not even the humans and beastfolk had. As such, the frontal assault served as a surprise attack as well, and the one-sided domination continued. As Elisabeth dashed deeper into the hellscape, her gaze lingered for a moment. She saw Lute standing between two leveled buildings. The copper-furred wolfman was barking orders at his subordinates to look for someone. Their eyes met. She nodded at him, leaving the rest in his hands. Amid the fire and ash and smoke, Lute straightened his back and gave her a deep bow. Elisabeth set off again. Most of the mixed-race people will die here and now. The traitorous demi-humans as well. That was why the Peace Brigade—her subordinates—were in charge of a different mission than the rest of the army. Their task was to locate and protect Satisbarina's son, and they had official approval from the Three Kings of the Forest to do so. The Three Kings were kings before they were beasts, and they knew full well the ripple effect that breaking an oath with a prisoner of war could have on society. However, there was still no guarantee their mission would end in success. For one, the late Dynast Valisisa's private army was out for blood, and there was a genuine risk they would end up slaughtering the hostage residents along with their foes. Almost all the civilians killed by swords had been downed by their hands. Such was the depth of their rage and sorrow and such was the scale of their loss. And with how chaotic things were, there was no stopping them. Any attempt to control the soldiers scattered across the settlement would be an uphill battle at best. Off in the distance, young children could be heard screaming. As Elisabeth charged on, her expression unchanging, her thoughts turned once more. Did Satisbarina know this would happen? There was but one answer. She did. She might have seemed a dullard, but she was sharp as a knife, and it was difficult to imagine her harboring any naive illusions about how things would play out. She must have foreseen the tragedy that awaited, yet even so, she had taken the best option available to her and gambled everything on saving her son. For the sake of her love, she was willing to let everyone else die. And Elisabeth was the one who'd taken advantage of that fact. This particular hell had the two Suffering Women to thank for its creation. From beside Elisabeth, an easygoing voice cut through her reverie. "You know, my precious, you get hung up over the oddest things. I can't imagine the screams rest easy in your ears, but it's a little late for that, no? If anything, you should consider them a badge of honor. Of all the tragedies you've caused as the Torture Princess, at least this one might pave the way for a brighter future." "Silence, Vlad. I know not if you're trying to praise me or get a rise out of me, but in either case, I don't care for it one bit." "Oh, I don't doubt it. And if I'm being quite honest, my aim lay with both in equal measure! Your reactions are so adorable; I really just can't get enough of them." Elisabeth gave Vlad's response a sharp click of the tongue. Oddly, Vlad replied with a smile. There was something really quite unsettling about it, but before Elisabeth had a chance to figure out what seemed so off, a scream cut through the air, and the wall to their left came crumbling down. Elisabeth raced on, dodging the rain of debris and kicking chunks of rubble aside. Suddenly, she noticed a dark figure the size of a calf running alongside her in the sandy cloud. There could be little doubt that he was enjoying the tragedy more than anyone else. The Kaiser spoke, laughing all the while in a voice that sounded almost human.

"Ah, hell. Hell! Where everything burns and festers and crumbles and dies. Where are you off to in such a hurry amid all this death?" "I said it not moments ago—we have a task to fulfill in the shadows." "My, how underhanded. What task is that?" Elisabeth responded to the Kaiser by silently glaring forward. For she knew. There were two people, and two people alone, capable of turning the tables on this despair-inducing situation. The Fremd Torturchen Alice Carroll and Lewis. And hunting smaller beings like them was a job for rats. As such, Elisabeth voiced her and Vlad's mission aloud. "'Tis simple—kill Alice and Lewis." The two of them needed to be killed. That was the price of peace. To. Fro. Chitter. Chatter. There were voices. Throngs of people sobbing and screaming and trembling. Someone was loudly crying out with pride, "Victory is ours!" Someone else lamented their defeat, their tone that of a person dashing through a field with deranged abandon and laughing their head off. "We're doomed; it's all over." And there, in that place that seemed halfway between a nightmare and reality, a young girl spoke. "Come now, let's be good girls and sing a song. "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall! Humpty Dumpty had a great fall! "All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again." But what is it that truly can't be put together again? Right as the thought began tickling Elisabeth's brain, the girl stopped singing. She slowly spun to face her. The white, rabbit-ear-like ribbons attached to her oversized hat swayed from side to side. It was then that Elisabeth realized the girl was grinning and clutching the hem of her dress. She gave it a vigorous flourish. Desert lilies went fluttering up through the air. They were in the temple courtyard, and the girl had been picking flowers. That was what she'd been doing amid the destruction and the slaughter. Just like she had once before, Alice bent a knee. "Welcome, Elisabeth. Welcome to Wonderland." With that, Alice gave her an elegant curtsy, and her white hair flopped adorably about. Although their surroundings had been reduced to a grim hellscape, the way Alice faced her was much the same as ever. Things were quiet in the temple, but red light lapped at the tops of courtyard walls. The settlement was burning, and every so often, sparks would come tumbling down. In time, the temple would go up in flames, too. Yet even so, Alice was waiting inside it without so much as trying to hide. Elisabeth nodded. She'd had a feeling this was how it would go. Fleeing and hiding weren't exactly Alice's style. Alice spread her arms wide as though gesturing at the conflagration outside. She began turning in circles. "Say, Elisabeth. Did you do this?" "Aye, that I did. 'Twas I who laid the groundwork, and 'twas I who lit the fuse. What of it?" "Ah, I knew it! Oh, that's so sad. Poor, poor Elisabeth." Elisabeth raised an eyebrow. Surely it was the mixed-race people and demi-humans who deserved Alice's pity, not her. She certainly didn't feel poor. However, Alice just kept going, spinning all the while. "Poor Elisabeth. Poor Kaito Sena. Poor, poor everyone. Someday, you're all going to break." What did Kaito Sena have to do with anything? Right as Elisabeth was about to voice that question, though, another voice cut in. "Ah, Elisabeth Le Fanu... You're here already?" Lewis strode out from inside the temple proper, calling out to her as one would a friend. Much to her surprise, he seemed completely composed. Most of his comrades had been consumed, and his experiments had gone up in flames. However, the light that burned in his one unmasked eye was as calm as ever. And as always, there was an indescribable sadness about him. Elisabeth raised an arm to gesture at the burning settlement. "Behold the grim spectacle. Would you still call me weak? Would you accuse me of having had everything taken from me? And one other thing. Why do you yet speak to me with such confounding familiarity?" "Valid questions. Allow me to make one amendment, though. You are weak. But it's not a term meant for people like you. No...perhaps it never was." Lewis spoke quietly, as though talking mostly to himself. He gave his head a small shake. Elisabeth glared at him. For the first time, the faintest hint of dejection spread across Lewis's countenance. "I and he—the man who wanted a star—were too different. And you and I are different as well. But even so, I have to ask. Can't I persuade you to change your mind? To lend us your strength, mother the vessels of God and Diablo, and release Kaito Sena from his burden? Or if not that, would you at least join our side?" "Enough of your blathering. Frankly, I'm surprised...you seem to be taking this all in stride. But that point passed us by long ago." Elisabeth's reply came sharp. The time had come. The Three Kings' unprecedented march had laid waste to all the mixed-race forces' plans. At this point, not even swaying her mind would make a difference, not in the face of the all-consuming violence that was destroying everything in its wake. It was too late to wax poetic about ideals. All that was left was to cut the two of them down, and— But then, suddenly, out of the blue... ...Elisabeth realized it. Something was off. His reaction, Alice's actions, everything. What if... What if none of this came as a surprise? There were countless tiny discrepancies she'd been filing away in her subconscious. It was like looking at a giant painting filled with little moth-eaten holes, and now bits of information were snapping into place one after another over the blank spaces. One by one, they twisted and turned and gradually came together. After all, it was odd how Aguina's wife had been left behind. And then there was the matter of Lewis's declaration of war. Even with a few of the demi-humans on his side, wiping out the three races was still a distant pipe dream. But depending on the Fremd Torturchen's strength, it might well be possible to overturn the world's power structure. Their dream was the realization of a perfect, idealized utopia. And to achieve that, there were certain prerequisites they had to fulfill. So what was it they needed? Then a different scene flashed through Elisabeth's head. The raided villages filled with poison and burned to the ground. That wasn't the kind of thing you did if your aim was a long, peaceful rule. Next, she overlaid that horrible image with one much like it. Jeanne's hometown. Countless people had died agonizing deaths in sacrifice to the Torture Princess. It was something that shouldn't have had anything to do with their current situation, but it filled a blank space all the same. However, it went without saying that pain was an indispensable component in dark magic, and that held just as true for the Fremd Torturchen. The completed painting melted, and something new rose up in its place. The mass of flesh born from its viscous sludge slowly but surely began assuming a human form. Was that hell truly of Satisbarina and Elisabeth's making? Wasn't it possible that that place filled with agonized screams was simply being used as a sacrifice? "...No. You knew?! You knew this would happen?!" Elisabeth shouted, her voice a fevered bellow. Behind her, the sound of flesh burning filled the air, punctuated by the snapping of bones. Somewhere, someone was being burned. And off in the distance, dragon bones were being crushed underfoot. The earth was searing hot, and the sky was choked with the black of smoke and ash. Great roars rocked the air. The Three Kings were laying out their decree. Burn the earth. Burn the trees. Burn every blade of grass from the ground. Many of our foes will perish. For that is the price their betrayal commands. And amid all the death and slaughter, amid all the horrific tragedy... ...Lewis just gave an ever-so-slight nod. 9 The Jester's Decision The room was red. Its walls, floor, and ceiling were all dyed with the color of fresh blood. It was the kind of room that burrowed its way into your eyeballs and chipped away at your mind. After all, staying calm and levelheaded when your entire field of view was filled with crimson was no easy task. But that was to be expected. The room was completely sequestered from the outside world. Nobody could leave it. And nobody could come in. It was almost like a graveyard. Or perhaps a prison. It was a place where nobody ought to be. That was why there was nobody there. It just...was. That was all. "That should be self-evident. No matter how much our preparation exceeded the three races', the gulf in resources and manpower was simply too vast. Wiping them out was a distant pipe dream. The only way for us to overturn the world's power structure was with the Fremd Torturchen—so as such, it was imperative that we fostered her growth. Surely you knew all that, Elisabeth Le Fanu?" Lewis began his speech in a calm voice, one almost reminiscent of a teacher's. It was dim in the temple courtyard, but the flames visible over its wall were as ferocious as ever. A booming noise sounded out. The shelling must have started. As Elisabeth recalled, metalworking and the weaponization thereof was a particular strength of the demi-humans. However, even their cannons would be powerless against the Three Kings. They probably wouldn't so much as put a scratch in their sleek, hefty fur. The best they could even hope for was to slow them down. Despite that, the demi-humans continued their bombardment. All of them were desperately fighting for their lives. Yet the temple and the temple alone remained quiet. Lewis leisurely continued his dispassionate speech. "We sought God and Diablo. But there were prerequisites we needed to meet before we could take the world, make it our own, and kill every last fool who lived in it. And to meet them, there was something else we needed to prepare." Pain and sacrifices were the water they needed to fill their limitless vessel. Lifting the hem of her skirt once more, Alice beamed. As she did, a trickle of crimson blood slid from the corner of her young lips. Now Elisabeth realized in full just how closely the events unfolding around them resembled the manner of Jeanne's creation and the method Kaito had used to amass his power. There were two things Lewis had once told her. "By summoning from another world a soul that's accustomed to pain, placing it in an immortal body, making it form a contract with a demon, and giving it the heart of an individual who's ingested demon flesh and accumulated a massive amount of pain, it's possible to artificially create an entity capable of revolutionizing the world. "...I summoned a pair of weaker demons into a man and a woman, then destroyed both their egos. They had two children. Then I bred the children together. By repeating that process, it was possible to create a pure, powerful demon. Eventually, I created a demon powerful enough to meet my needs." The ingested demon wasn't the only one; the demon for Alice's contract was likely produced in the same way. In all likelihood, it was nothing more than a mass of flesh and power, a caterpillar-like being with no reason or intellect, capable only of writhing, cackling, and suffering. Its strength no doubt paled in comparison to the Kaiser's, but if all you needed was an apparatus for turning the pain of yourself and others into power, then it did the trick just fine. And because Alice was from another world, there was no limit to the amount of mana she

could possess. That method wouldn't be enough for her to surpass Kaito, but surpassing Elisabeth was another matter altogether. Now, thanks to a ritual they'd prepared in advance, all the pain being generated in the settlement was being offered up to Alice. "...So that was why you left Satisbarina behind." If their location never got leaked, they could continue to demand God and Diablo while still going around and slaughtering villages to amass mana. And if the location did get leaked, they could sacrifice the settlement to collect all the pain they needed in one fell swoop. No matter how things played out, they would reach their goal one way or the other. It was simply a matter of when. "You never cared if your location got leaked or not, nor did you care what became of the settlement. So...what about your demi-human allies, the ones who were trying to protect their blood purity? You were just tricking them?" "The demi-humans—well, it's not really my place to say. We demanded God and Diablo. However, we never held any great hopes for the world. It's true—we didn't care if the beastfolk's day of wrath came. The Three Kings' brutal rampage would do well to fill our vessel, and if it served to advance the Fremd Torturchen's growth, our comrades' lives and riches were a small price to pay. Just more dead killers for the pile. After all, it seemed only reasonable that the design of our revenge engulf its creators as well." Once Lewis got started, his words flowed like water. Elisabeth thought back to his earlier proclamation. "If the end of days truly had been upon us, maybe it would have all been fine. All your atrocities could be forgiven, written off as isolated incidents of fear-induced derangement. But God and Diablo failed to bring down the hammer—so I must do it in their stead. I'll take this world, I'll make it my own, and I'll kill every last fool who walks upon it. "I don't need a reason. After all, justice died long ago. At this point, what use does anyone have for something so decent and proper?" Lewis and his allies wanted to become "proper shepherds," and their ultimate goal was the realization of a perfect, idealized utopia. But Lewis had never said a word about letting the world survive as is if it refused to accept his ideals. What if stability on par with what the current world enjoyed had never been part of his utopia's design in the first place? "God and Diablo are powerful deterrents, but even if you couldn't get them, all you needed was strength enough to maintain your reign of terror anyhow. And as long as you could overturn the power structure, long-term stability was of secondary import... So what—you had no qualms about never allowing peace to exist again? Does your hatred truly run that deep?" "It does. We are warped, Elisabeth Le Fanu—resigned, angry, and broken. This was why I called you weak, you know, why I said you had had everything taken from you. You see, you were changed so completely it took you this long to even realize that about us. And yet because the person who changed you wished it, you'll never see him again. Poor Elisabeth." His tone was that of a teacher pitying their student. Elisabeth bit down on her lip. His statement was an affront of the highest order, yet so too was it an undeniable truth. Once, the Torture Princess had laughed as she basked in the anger and hatred of those around her. And not only that, she understood those emotions in their entirety. But a simple boy had irreparably changed her. Then he left. Smiling like a child. And the day of their reunion would never come. She was struck speechless. But only for a moment. "They did it, Father! It's him! They found out where Kaito Sena is!" "...What?" Alice shouted, her voice loud and clear. As she puffed out her chest, her white ribbons stood straight up. At that point, even Elisabeth couldn't help but let out a cry of disbelief. Only a tiny handful of people knew where Kaito Sena was. How could she have found him? And yet, it didn't look like she was lying. Alice's innocent thrill seemed genuine. Her glee made sense. If they could get their hands on Kaito Sena, then they wouldn't need to make so many sacrifices to the Fremd Torturchen, and they would be able to realize their perfect utopia all the more quickly. That was just how powerful a deterrent God and Diablo were. Alice leaped up with joy and continued on in a singsong voice. "He's in the alchemists' hidden village, buried under the boulders! Rubens and Huey are on their way to secure him now! Hooray, they did it! They're the best! They're such good boys—why, I'll have to pat their heads and give them all sorts of praise!" "You wretch..." Elisabeth let out a hoarse epithet. And at the same time, she dashed forward. Hesitation wasn't in the Torture Princess's nature. All it took was a single second for her to decide that killing them now was her best course of action. As she drew her long sword from a whirl of black and crimson, she elected to go for a thrust instead of a slash. Yet despite her sword's blistering speed, it was repelled by the curved back of a teaspoon. Sparks and azure petals went flying. However, having the sword land had never been Elisabeth's intent. At the same time she thrust it forward, she had also fired off a volley of stakes. But Alice caught them all in a cup. "What?" "Dormouse's Tea Party." The stakes slammed loudly into the cup one after another, launching it up into the air. A moment later, though, the cup sucked them all in like it was eating them whole, and a colony of twinkling, twinkling little bats appeared in their place. Then the bats transformed into azure flower petals and faded away. But Elisabeth wasn't done yet. "Gavel." *** A solemn, bell-like noise rang out. A mass of crimson flower petals scattered magnificently through the air. An enormous iron hammer swung down from empty space, the very air trembling as it fell. The attack was powerful enough to crush someone flat, even if they were clad in full armor. However, Alice didn't so much as flinch. Her white hair bobbed as she did a little spin. "Flamingo Croquet!" Then a strange bird appeared in her arms. Its body was round and pink, and both its legs and neck were long and slender. Then, of all things, she swung it by its supple neck and batted the hammer back, simultaneously using its belly to block the needles Elisabeth had stealthily launched at her. The bird let out a shrill, confounded cry when they hit. Then it and the needles burst into azure and crimson flower petals respectively. The two hues exploded outward and scattered about the area. Alice playfully closed one eye. Elisabeth clicked her tongue. It was painfully clear how explosively the Fremd Torturchen's powers were growing. "Oh, Elisabeth, that just won't do. And you know that, don't you? See, I'm pretty strong. If you play with me like this, you're not going to make it in time. But if you try leaving now, well..." Alice chuckled. It was a mean little bait, but Elisabeth knew full well how accurate it was. Alice and Lewis were no fools. Her explaining the situation to Elisabeth meant that even if she left now, she'd probably be too late. And even if she could make it in time, she would need to kill Alice and Lewis first. But doing so, especially quickly, was going to be far easier said than done. Elisabeth was still shaken, and meanwhile, Alice was having a blast. The Torture Princess and Fremd Torturchen stared daggers at each other. Then, out of the blue Elisabeth felt someone grab her by the belt around her throat— "And up you go." "Hmm—hmm?" Then, just like that, they hurled her with ease. Right into a freshly drawn azure teleportation circle. "Goodness me... You really are going soft, my dear. I told you once before, didn't I?" A carefree voice echoed through the courtyard. Elisabeth blinked. More than once. Vlad was standing on the other side of the azure, and by all accounts, it would seem that he was the one who'd said, "And up you go," and tossed her into the circle. Elisabeth panicked. She didn't understand what was going on. First things first, she needed to collect herself. She shook her head back and forth. Vlad shrugged and continued in an exasperated tone. "Seeing someone beautiful succumb to sentimentality is like gazing at a work of art. And if they were a cruel woman, then all the more so. But as you are now, my precious, you're hideous. Back when you were filled with grim resolve, you were far lovelier, far greater, far more radiant, and far more beautiful." Just like before, his voice was tinged with sadness. Elisabeth stood, determined to find out what was going on. As she did, the teleportation circle started turning, and azure flower petals danced up into the air and began to block off her vision. Right when she was making to leave it, though, Elisabeth realized something. The circle's destination was Jeanne de Rais's hidden village. As the azure moved to obscure him, Vlad flipped something her way. "But you know what? I'll allow it. At this point, what choice do I have?" Elisabeth caught it with one hand. She stared at him, trying to glean his intentions. However, Vlad just shrugged. And the expression on his face was different from his usual condescending smirk. It felt almost forlorn, that smile of his. Like the kind of face one would wear when watching their child. Surrounded by azure, Elisabeth raised her voice. "What are you playing at, Vlad?!" "Hmm... Answering in a way that would satisfy you would take more time than we have. So instead, I leave you with this—a quote that, as your favorite villainous ally, I'd always hoped to have a chance to say." His voice sounded detached, yet even so, he then began to brood. Through thick and thin, his love of theatrics never faltered. The azure's dance then started to blot him out completely, rendering everything beyond it unseeable and inaudible. But right before it could, he finally delivered his quote. And oh, how grand his tone was. "Go on ahead. I got this." 10 The Fathers' Battle Inside the red room, there was... Well, that doesn't matter. More importantly... ...let's take a look through the window. "Vlad Le Fanu... You—" "Be quiet. I'm taking a moment to bask in the afterglow." Lewis's voice had a rare hint of loathing to it. However, Vlad cut him off. Explosions echoed off in the distance. A hard hoof had come down, trampling the piled-up cannonballs before they could even be loaded. But Vlad paid that no heed. He stood amid the din and the clamor, closing his eyes in rapt ecstasy. Lewis gave him a puzzled look. "The...afterglow?" "Of having parted with my dearest daughter and of having had my quote land rather well, yes. Surely you understand." Actually, nobody ever understood what Vlad was on about. Realizing how fruitless trying to converse would be, Lewis went silent. Several nonsensical seconds passed them by. Then, after supping his fill, Vlad opened his eyes, and in the same motion, spread his arms out wide and did a pointless little spin to milk the moment for all it was worth. When he spoke, his voice was full and resonant. "All right, that's about enough of that! Sorry about the wait. Now then, let's talk about possibilities!" "...Possibilities? Possibilities of what? As far as I can tell, you and I have

nothing to talk about." "Oh, but we do! So, so many things! And if you're dissatisfied, why, we can even talk about loathing. For no matter what we say, all this is but a tale played out atop a farcical stage. It's as the Kaiser said; eventually, everything will be lost. And that's a problem well worth worrying over...but right now, I actually have a different question I'd like to ask you." All of a sudden, Vlad steered the conversation in a whole new direction. It was impossible to tell if he even wanted Lewis to follow along or not. He snapped his heels together with great irreverence, then abruptly thrust one finger straight forward. And with the greatest of ease, he laid the man's secret bare. "You don't have a heart, do you?" Lewis went pale. For the first time, he seemed visibly shaken. Vlad spun his finger as though gouging an open wound. "That thing beating in your chest is no true organ. Am I wrong?" "No true organ? ...Father?" Alice tilted her head and looked up at Lewis with concern. Vlad's malicious smile remained steadfast on his face. Lewis squeezed his chest as though trying to hide it from Vlad's eyes, and Vlad went on with great amusement. "'Summoning from another world a soul that's accustomed to pain, placing it in an immortal body, making it form a contract with a demon, and giving it the heart of an individual who's ingested demon flesh and accumulated a massive amount of pain.' A wonderful idea and a perfect method to create someone capable of revolutionizing the world. But it does raise an interesting question, doesn't it—whose heart did you use?" Vlad had a point. After all, you couldn't use just any old heart for something like that. Even just gathering the pain required a resolve of steel, and the whole process would be enough to kill most people. And what's more, the person also needed to be an exceptionally skilled mage. For example, one powerful enough to summon someone from another world. "Of course, your otherworldly summons were anything but precise. No, you just gambled on the possibility of dredging up a soul that resembled yours, and this here is the fruit of your reliance on fortune! In any case, though, what you offered your new princess was your very own heart. All you have in that chest of yours now is a magically cultivated replacement, no? But it won't last long. And yet here you are, spinning tall tales about becoming a 'proper shepherd.'" "...I was wondering what you were getting at, but that was no lie. Even after I'm gone, Alice and my comrades will still—" "Oh please, it's a lie of the highest order! Come now, be honest. There's no need for you to try to keep up appearances with me." Lewis was clearly flustered, and Vlad's malicious smile grew broader. It was an expression well worthy of the man who stood at the side of the fourteen demons' apex. He often came across as flippant, but he was still the man who had roused the fourteen demons and led them on their crusade. Exposing people's secret selves and hidden desires was his specialty. Vlad went on in a lilting tone. "...About this idealized utopia of yours. I see it a little differently than my dear daughter does. I mean, you talk a good game about proper shepherds, but is that really what you aim to become?" "...Father, what is the man talking about?" Alice was perplexed. However, Lewis offered her no answer. For once, he was the one whose composure was broken. Vlad's words were cutting him deeper than any knife could. With each verbal stab, he gouged deeper into Lewis's wound. "Once you sober up from your stupor of blood and pretext, all that awaits you are your own broken souls. Such is the nature of your act. But if you abandon even your lofty ideals, then...then it would reduce it to being nothing more than common slaughter. And if that happened, you wouldn't just be letting down your allies—no, you'd even be letting down your fallen brethren." If Elisabeth had been there, she would have no doubt agreed with him. Lewis's actions were all far too wasteful. Even when his goal was just to make a friend, his process had still involved leaving a trail of corpses in his wake. It was true: When an avenger played the role of judge, their verdict would always be the same. Yet not even that was enough to account for the callous way Lewis racked up his body count. It was almost like he was seeking revenge for revenge's sake. "That was why you needed a friend, wasn't it? You know, I had my eye on him, too. But for all his power and fortitude and tenacity, he was simply too righteous. It's rare, finding a person who believes in God so completely and yet doesn't blame him for a thing. He's different from you, that's for sure. Too different. Honestly, what did you even think you had in common? Did you seriously delude yourself into thinking that you and he were the same? That you and that saint were—" "Shut up, Vlad Le Fanu!" "You wanted someone righteous by your side, didn't you? Someone to make sure you didn't stray too far down an errant path. A linchpin, as it were. But then he ended up dying. Ha-ha." Vlad shrugged as he tossed in a quick laugh at the saint's death. Lewis offered him no reply. As Vlad faced him, his smile grew broader still, and he whispered in the most enticing of tones. "Admit it. All you want is a weapon capable of killing as many as possible." "Would you mind not saying any more? I have no interest in listening to any more of your drivel." Lewis tried to be evasive, knowing full well how dangerous it was to give even a scrap of information to that man. However, the look in Alice's innocent eyes was the only answer Vlad needed. He let out a chuckle. "Ah, forgive me. I suppose I was being a bad influence. Goodness, how fraught fatherhood is. You always have to be thinking about the future, always have to be feigning concern. I can sympathize, you know, being a father myself and all." Vlad's expression of sympathy was utterly shameless, but surprisingly, he held true to his word and went silent. Then, after falling back a few steps, he laid out his terms. "If you don't want to hear any more of what I have to say, then tell the girl to stand down. In turn, I won't use the Kaiser." Lewis raised an eyebrow, not sure what Vlad was getting at. Vlad shrugged, disappointed at how slow Lewis was on the uptake. Then he extended his right arm as though inviting him to dance. "You can fight, too, can't you?" And with that, Vlad's proposal was made. He turned around once more and took one step, then another. After the second, he whirled back around and spread his arms wide. Then, with the red glow at the wall's top to his back, he spoke with brazen dignity. "Come now—let's see whose paternal love is stronger!" No words of consent rose up to meet him. Instead, their battle began in silence. First off, Lewis gave Alice's shoulder a soft, wordless push to gently signal her to fall back. Vlad nodded in satisfaction. Splendid. Then, the next moment, Lewis vanished. With his arms still spread wide, Vlad cocked his head in confusion. An ax came barreling straight down at his cervical vertebrae. Without turning around, Vlad reached out and blocked the massive blade with his palm. It cleaved through his flesh, but halfway in, the ax came to an abrupt stop, as though it had been caught between someone's teeth. Lewis spoke, his voice far deeper than it had been up until then. "What trickery is this?" "Hmm? I just reinforced my bones with magic, that's all. The flesh I left as is, though. I wanted to see how your attack would feel. And power aside, that was quite interesting! I never would have expected it to come in such a form!" Lewis went silent again and forcibly wrenched his ax free. It left a deep horizontal wound on Vlad's hand. Blood violently gushed forth, staining the courtyard flowers a grisly red. A single pinkie toppled comically to the ground. Vlad took a lick of his own blood. His lips curled into a beguiling grin. "You carry yourself like a scholar, but I can see you're not afraid to get rough when it's your turn to fight! Of course, it's not so easy labeling one or the other as your 'true nature.' Dark magic can easily be influenced by how aggressive its wielder is, after all. A side effect, perhaps, of how instinctively it's learned." "When I joined the rebel organization, the first things I picked up were assassination techniques. Fitting work for a petty grunt, no?" "Ah, I see. Given how unhesitatingly you aimed for my vitals, I should have guessed you— Whoa there!" This time, Vlad fell back a step. At some point, Lewis had closed in on him. Three crescent-shaped knives peeked out from within Lewis's black outfit, each one a different length. Lewis threw them in circles one after another. Vlad dodged two of them, then shattered the third with his finger. Darkness and azure petals scattered through the air. Left empty-handed, Lewis let out a displeased murmur. "So what, you took the first blow on purpose?" "I said as much, didn't I? Still, what a letdown. I mean, I never thought you'd be on the level I was in my prime, but I also didn't think you'd be this bor—" "Your head." A low murmur slipped from Lewis's lips. For a second, Vlad looked confused. Soon, though, a look of pure joy spread across his entire face. The one eye Lewis had visible beneath his mask practically dripped with loathing. Still as impassive as ever, he slowly raised a hand to point at Vlad's head. His voice was dry and hoarse. "You probably don't even realize it, but you're protecting your head. And the rate at which mana flows through you is unusual, too. That body of yours isn't human—so I take it that whatever houses your soul is stored in your head?" "Bravo! Bravissimo, using that keen eye of yours to make up for your lack of strength. How right you are! ...Wait, I probably shouldn't have told you that, hmm. Bad habit of mine." "Ah, I see now. You're an idiot." Vlad gave Lewis's biting remark a nonchalant shrug. As he did, a massive pair of blades made for the nape of his neck. The strange weapon had extended from Lewis's long sleeve as though in place of his arm. It was like a pair of garden shears, and Vlad's head was the unwanted plant they were trying to prune. However, Vlad dropped his torso forward as spontaneously as if he'd tripped. The two blades snapped together, just barely missing the top of his head. Vlad then swung his long leg up and leveled a kick at Lewis's jaw. Lewis tilted his body to avoid the blow, then suddenly twisted to the side and hurled his shears at seemingly nothing. Sure enough, though, Vlad appeared at their destination not a moment after they left Lewis's hand. The shears pierced Vlad clean through. However, his figure merely crumbled away. A torrent of azure petals and black darkness luxuriously exploded in all directions. When the air cleared, Vlad was standing there as though nothing had happened. And almost as an afterthought, his severed pinkie was back in its original spot as well. It had been like watching a magic trick. Lewis clicked his tongue in unreserved annoyance. "...Well, that's irritating. It's like your

very existence is all one big joke." "You know, my dear daughter tells me the same thing all the time! For how long her rebellious phase has lasted, you'd think she'd at least have mellowed out a bit by now, no?" "My Alice would never say something like that. Have you considered that she might just not like you?" A cheer of encouragement rose up from behind Lewis. "That's right—I'm Father's good little girl! Go, Father! You can do it!" The mood about them was disconcertingly relaxed. However, Vlad didn't seem to mind. "Well that can't be it," he muttered in genuine displeasure. Meanwhile, Lewis slid a new blade out of his sleeve. This time, it was his turn to mutter. "I know why you picked this fight with me." "Oh-ho, what's this? Not to steal your thunder or anything, but I was just hoping to amuse myself." "...I can tell that's no lie. But it isn't the whole truth, is it? Holding Alice in check and going up against me alone allowed Elisabeth to escape...but I don't understand why. Why would you go to such lengths?" As he posed the question, Lewis leveled a series of rapid thrusts at Vlad. Dodging them all would have been nigh impossible. However, the majority of the blows were mere feints. Vlad could see that plain as day, so he snapped his fingers as he danced his way around the important ones. One blow came at a sharp diagonal straight for his head, and that was the sole strike Vlad took the effort to actively repel. When he did, though, other blades found their marks and ran his arm and shoulder through. Despite all the blood gushing forth, though, Vlad was still able to put some distance between himself and Lewis. His body was in a grim state, but he let out a composed laugh all the same. Lewis continued his line of questioning, as though the previous exchange of blows hadn't even happened. "You're the Kaiser's old contractor, so the Torture Princess had every reason to hate you. She probably holds you in great contempt. So then, why? Do you even know? My wanting a friend was one thing, but this makes even less sense. What exactly is Elisabeth Le Fanu to you?" Lewis was clearly puzzled. Vlad stopped moving, and his glib expression vanished. Then, serious as could be, he gave his answer as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. He was like a man boasting of his greatest treasure. "My dear daughter is simply that. She's my daughter, and she's dear to me." For a few seconds, Lewis stood motionless. It was unusual, seeing him so utterly at a loss for words. He shook his head in exasperation and disbelief. At that point, he was forgetting to even attack. "That can't be... You seriously only think of her as a beloved child?" "Of...course? If not for that, I don't know how you think I could forgive being burned alive." Vlad placed his hand atop his chest and spoke with great aplomb. Lewis found himself struck speechless for the third time. However, the claim had a certain logic to it. Based on what had been listed in the records, Elisabeth had been the one to sentence Vlad Le Fanu to death by burning. Not even a crumb of ash had remained of him. Yet Vlad's replica didn't seem to resent her for that. In fact, he was even working alongside her. Nobody who thought like a normal person would ever be able to do that. "Now then, while you're reeling in shock, I hope you don't mind if I wax eloquent for a moment. You see, I thought of Kaito Sena as an outstanding son as well. He was also my lord, but even so— At first, I was just amusing myself by seeing how far I could make him sink, but not even I could have imagined how clear his twisted mind would remain, right till the bitter end! Thanks to him, I enjoyed every one of my days." Suddenly, Vlad's voice became rich with emotion, catching Lewis completely off guard. Vlad's expression was that of a man reminiscing on events that had taken place a century—perhaps even a millennium—prior, and he continued in a forlorn tone. "But then he went and sealed himself in that crystal. It was sad, of course, but still it was a decision my dear son made of his own volition. A symbol of his growth from an unfledged vessel to a full, twisted man. And I have every intention of respecting his choice. But even so, what kind of a parent wouldn't grieve over something like that?" Vlad shook his head as the emotions ran through him all over again. Lewis went pale. For Vlad Le Fanu of all people to say something like that was shameless beyond belief. Given all the lives he'd personally extinguished, it was an act that almost bordered on blasphemy. And yet Vlad went on, utterly carefree. "But ever since this whole mess began, a whole new worry began plaguing me. And the bad feeling in my gut only grew stronger when your rebel army started butchering those villages. At that rate, I feared, I was going to lose my precious daughter as well. Such was the gravity of the dangerous change Kaito Sena's death sparked in her. I lamented that change at first, but now I forgive her. For everything. There was a time when I would have welcomed her death, but that changed when I lost my son. Now, I just don't want her to die." "...What." "I said, I don't want her to die." It took Lewis a moment to parse what he'd just heard. Once he did, though, it wasn't shock that crossed his face. It was rage. He drew yet another blade, a shark-toothed sword designed to cause massive blood loss, and swung it with feral speed. Vlad dodged it several times, occasionally parrying it as it spun. As their duel to the death grew ever fiercer, Lewis shouted. "Enough of your bullshit, Vlad Le Fanu! You've killed thousands—tens of thousands! And plenty of my people number among your victims' ranks! You slaughter people randomly and impartially, and you take joy in the act! And yet you, you say that you don't want someone to die?! I might not be in any position to talk, but you have to be kidding me!" "Oh, I assure you I'm not, but you're right on all the other fronts! Sure, I killed tens of thousands! But what's wrong with that? The vast majority of people, be they humans or beastfolk or demi-humans or mixed race, aren't worth the air they breathe! They're garbage, one and all! And that's precisely why I hold such affection for my children and none others. What is it you find so contradictory about that?" Vlad finished on a proud, brazen note. Lewis could tell that there was nothing to be gained from talking to him. Vlad lived by a value system that was his and his alone. The scales he measured the world by were simply calibrated differently from all the others. In all likelihood, nobody would ever truly understand him. Not even his beloved son and daughter. However, Vlad himself didn't mind that fact in the least. And that was all there was to it. "Love is nothing more than an illusion, and it certainly isn't something worth risking your life for. Or at least, that's what I thought. But as it turns out, making the ultimate sacrifice for paternal love's sake isn't half-bad! I guess you learn something new every day!" Vlad enjoyed a moment of personal delight. In fact, he got so immersed in his own monologue that Lewis's sword strikes began landing true and gouging deep cuts in his body. But even with his skin and flesh shorn away and his blood pouring out from all over, Vlad's smile remained unbroken, and his stance remained the same as before. Lewis wasn't about to let that opening slip him by. He snapped his fingers, and a hefty handle plopped down into his pale palms. It belonged to a massive executioner's ax. Lewis then struck with it so quickly and brutally it would have been challenging even to block. And that was when it happened. Lewis's neck split open. "Ah... Gack..." Unable to even scream, Lewis let out an agonized gasp. It took everything he had just to stay upright. Vlad looked down at him with an icy glare. He dismissed the steel wire he was holding and shook his head. "You talked a good game about being a practiced assassin, but at the end of the day, you're nothing but a rank amateur. All it takes to down a man is a tiny cut to a single artery, so what do you need a weapon that large for? Come now, don't get caught dancing to my tune over some dramatic flair and a little monologue or two." "Father!" "Stay back, Alice!" Alice cried out and made to rush over, but Lewis quickly stopped her. He staggered back a bit and summoned a swarm of azure petals and black miasma to converge on his wound. Realizing how difficult it would be to efficiently heal it, he elected instead just to cauterize it. After forcibly stopping the bleeding, he spoke. "I'm...fine. There's no need for you...to be concerned. The blow was...a far cry...from fatal." "Well, that's certainly true enough. It was never meant to kill you, after all. My son and my daughter both had rebellious streaks, and they never listened to what I had to say. Why deprive myself of the perfect audience?" "And one...other thing..." "Oh?" Vlad obediently cupped his ear, and Lewis raised his head. His mask and skin were both stained with his blood, and the visible half of his face was violently grimacing. Now his eye burned with clear, unbridled malice. Vlad observed the change with great pleasure. Lewis let out a triumphant laugh in reply. "It's over." "What is?" And with that, the right half of Vlad's grinning face vanished into nothing. What had just happened? Vlad blinked his one remaining eye in puzzlement. The next moment, though, his body crumpled to the ground, toppling unceremoniously forward like a marionette with its strings cut. Alice looked down at his unseemly state. When she spoke, her voice was cold. "I didn't move, you know. Just like Father told me." Sure enough, she was telling the truth. She had her hands clasped behind her back like a good little girl. No, the change had taken place in the courtyard itself. An attack whose pitch lay beyond audible perception had burned the temple half to the ground. Its courtyard, a precious patch of green amid the vast arid desert, was gone. Searing temperatures had burned away the ground and transfigured it into some sort of smooth material. Vlad scrunched his face up a little. Not even he grasped the reason behind the change. Seriously, what had just happened? Alice, who had seen the whole thing, glared at him. Her white rabbit ribbons bobbed from side to side, yet it was the Red Queen she resembled most as she gazed down at the broken man. Taking mercy on him, she deigned to answer his unspoken question. "But despair did." Her voice rang with ridicule as though mocking him for expecting anything more of the world. Off in the distance, a new roar rose up. Countless voices screamed, yet they were all one and the same. Die. Die. Die. The time has come. I have found you with my eyes. The heavens and earth shall be moved, and thou shalt come to judge the world by fire. This day, day of wrath calamity and misery day of great and exceeding bitterness. This day our master is resurrected. "...The Sand Queen." Vlad didn't look at the figure

shifting in the flames, but he reached his conclusion all the same. The one being who could stand on equal footing with the Three Kings was on the move. To be more precise, she hadn't actually been resurrected. Her corpse was simply moving. However, there was no shortage of legends about the Sand Queen going to battle, and now even her skin had become crystallized. No blade or magic could pierce it. Lifeless as she was, she posed just as much of a threat as she had when she was alive. As he listened to the excited hubbub coming from outside, Vlad let out a low laugh. "Heh... I see... So you weren't tricking the demi-humans after all." "That's right. They, too, had a victory they sought. With the help of our magical resources and expertise, the demi-humans came to a realization—that there was a massive store of mana preserved within the Sand Queen's body. From there, all they had to do was apply the same method to it one did when animating a stone golem. They awakened the reactor and turned her perfectly preserved corpse into a weapon." Lewis gave his answer matter-of-factly. To the demi-humans, the Sand Queen was no doubt their final trump card, one they had wanted to avoid playing unless absolutely necessary. In all likelihood, having the teleportation circle on her tongue analyzed was probably the trigger that activated her. Then, once the demi-humans learned of the Three Kings' march, they must have sent her to the settlement in much the same way the beastfolk sent the Three Kings. From the sound of it, her appearance had caught the Three Kings off guard, and they had suffered injuries. That fact was evidenced by the sounds of beastfolk shrieking and screaming. However, before their wails had a chance to turn to angry shouts, the grief-stricken voices went silent one after another. They must have been burned away or perhaps simply crushed. Vlad glanced around, his eyeball practically hanging out of its socket. The world was burning red and crimson and scarlet. Everything was dying. It was ironic really. Out of rage, the beastfolk had spurred the Three Kings of the Forest into action, and to oppose them, the demi-humans had summoned the Sand Queen. One act of revenge was being piled atop another. Everyone was screaming that their enemies were the sinful ones. Vlad let out a small chuckle. All anyone wanted was a reason to seek revenge. They needed to scream from the rooftops that justice was on their side. Because if they didn't, all that would await them would be their own broken souls. All this, everything that was happening, was simply a means to that end. "See, this is why I can't stand ordinary people. They're such headaches." As the words dribbled from Vlad's mouth, he shut his one remaining eyelid, as though unable to bear the weight of his exhaustion. An executioner's sword fell out of the air into Lewis's hand. Much like Elisabeth's, it was a weapon designed for beheadings. One final act of compassion. With the merciful blade in hand, Lewis approached his fool of an opponent. "It's over, Vlad Le Fanu. You were a wicked man, vulgar through and through. But I do respect that love of yours, egotistical as it was... You were right—it's a father's duty to protect his children." "So...it is... But, you know...you're the last...person...I want telling...me that..." Vlad curled his nearly shredded lips into a smile. He opened his eye once more, casting a gaze Lewis's way that seemed to be laying some secret of his bare. Lewis offered him silence in return. He raised the executioner's sword aloft. This would mark the farce's end. Vlad vomited an ugly mess of blood, flesh, and teeth. As an organ-laden mass fell out the side of his throat, he let out a faint murmur. "Ah...it's over... It's over...isn't it?" "It is. It's over. Now, go to your rest." "It is, O He Who Rears Hell Within His Mind. And be thankful for that. I was just getting bored of watching the performance. "Geh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh, fu-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh, geh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh." The laugh that boomed out sounded almost human. Lewis, caught off guard, stared in blank shock. For there was something he had never realized. There wasn't a person alive who truly understood Vlad Le Fanu. Few and far between were the people who would even think of sympathizing with a villain such as he. And there was no way that a man like that would ever see his promise through to the end. Then, with an absurd spurting noise a certain chest clad in a black, doctorly outfit got torn apart like tissue paper. "See, this is why I called you an amateur. What possessed you to think I would keep my word?" It defied explanation, but Vlad's voice rang with a brazen pride. As the words left his mouth, Alice let out a stupefied cry. "...Huh? Hmm? What?! ...F-Father? Father... Father, Father!" She screamed and ran over to Lewis. Utterly indifferent to the state her foe was in, she reached out her young arms as far as they would go. Thanks to her efforts, she was able to catch Lewis's body right before it toppled over. She propped him up, trying desperately to keep his guts from spilling out. "Oh, thank goodness—I made it in time. Please, Father, you have to pull yourself...together..." Suddenly, something toppled to the ground between them. It was small. Something she'd never seen before. It was a small lump of flesh that resembled a small ashen sack— —and it was in the exact same shape as a heart. "...F-Father? No... No, no, this can't be happening. This isn't happening, is it?" The words spilled from Alice's mouth as a shocked whisper. Lewis tried to answer her, but all he got for his trouble was a mouthful of blood. He was still alive, but his wounds were far too serious to be healed. He didn't have much time. Vlad gazed over at them and let out a cruel laugh. Beside him, the supreme hound slapped the ground with his tail. "Now then, O contractor of mine, what to do? I could seize the opportunity to flee with you in my mouth, but not only would your brains fall out, your self-destruct device is going to go off. I feel we're out of options. I imagine you'd taste vile, but nonetheless, how would you feel about me eating you?" "No, better not. Didn't you get tired of eating human flesh? And besides, I have a favor to ask of you." Vlad's voice rang with an unusual degree of sincerity. The Kaiser turned his snout up with unconcealed disgust. Hellfire burned in the black dog's eyes as he let out a low groan. "Your tone sickens me, O He Who Rears Hell Within His Mind. Yet at the same time, I'm curious as to what sort of legacy you aim to leave. Speak your piece." "I need you to give my dear daughter a message—'I really did love you from the bottom of my heart.'" "Is that truly the sort of thing a villain ought to be saying?" The Kaiser sounded utterly exasperated. Meanwhile, Alice sat as motionless as if her soul had left her body. The man and the dog, on the other hand, were sharing a conversation like they didn't have a care in the world. Vlad spat out a chunk of his tongue, then explained himself with great amusement. "Oh, but that'th prethithely why... Hmm, my words aren't coming out quite right. I said, that's precisely why! This way, I can leave her with a wound that'll never heal. And the best part is it's completely true! Because at the end of the day, isn't wanting to be remembered the most human desire there is?" "Oh, please. Don't go talking yourself up now. Besides, I'm sure she is already well aware." The Kaiser snorted. Vlad gave his one remaining hand a little wave to no one in particular, and the blue ring on his middle finger gleamed. The black dog shook his tail from side to side as though to mock Vlad's foolishness. However, he then cocked his head. "Wait a minute. You're my contractor. If you die, won't I vanish with you?" "Ha-ha... I guess that is a problem... Hey now, don't go biting me!" "How dare you. HOW DARE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU!" Suddenly, a scream split the air. Still holding Lewis, Alice was looking Vlad's way. The rage and bloodlust burning in her eyes were so intense they seemed liable to spill out from within. They almost resembled the supreme hound's hellfire. Vlad replied by flashing a smile. Alice raised her arm aloft. This time, the farce was truly, truly over. And oh, what a long, flippant, cruel, delightfully bothersome performance it had been. Then Vlad's eye shifted...and he let out a peaceful murmur. "Oh... It's you." A single, incomprehensible tear fell. Then a cloud of azure petals and black darkness swallowed even that up as Vlad Le Fanu made his final exit from the world. 11 The Saint's Grief The room was red. Now the people were back at its plain, well-built desk. The man and the woman gazed down at the chessboard. What had once been a battlefield could no longer reasonably be described by that term. Now it was just chaos. Countless pieces lay broken, and even the board itself had been shattered. Kaito Sena picked up one of the pieces. It was shaped like a king, yet strangely, it had no crown. For a moment, Kaito Sena just gazed at the piece with its cruelly broken face. He started to say something. In the end, though, he elected just to shake his head without saying a word. Still silent, he snapped his fingers. The piece dissolved into azure flower petals. Nothing of it remained. The two of them had had their parting long ago. In fact, it had taken place on the day Kaito Sena himself "died." Then Kaito Sena slumped back in his chair. He closed his eyes and sank into a deep silence. He seemed to be mourning someone's death. Or perhaps he was lamenting the madness taking place atop the board. It was unclear which. Either would have sufficed. "Who are you trying to wound exactly? Fool. I'll have you forgotten on the morrow." For a moment, Elisabeth lapsed into thought. However, she soon shook her head and gave her fingers a snap. A blue ring floated up and shattered. Its jagged fragments hung motionlessly in the air. Then those fragments dissolved into azure flower petals. The ring was what Vlad had tossed her right before he teleported her away. When it shattered, so too did the window she'd been looking through. Even before that, though, its image had gone completely dark. Elisabeth dispelled it, closing the window as one would a coffin. Nothing of it remained. Considering how devious he had been, it was almost hard to believe he was actually gone. Elisabeth closed her eyes and thought of nothing. Suddenly, a clear, dignified voice sounded out. "...So Vlad Le Fanu is dead?" "Aye, so he is. He was as good as dead already, but Alice dealt the coup de grâce. And I don't imagine he had any spare replicas lying around... Anyhow, the Sand Queen is in play too now. We need to make haste." Elisabeth spoke as though intent on moving past the man's death as quickly as possible. She intentionally redirected her attention to the passages she'd once read. "A body unheld by death's fell claim." "A radiant form." "A glittering frame." "Adorned with reddened scales." "Like beautiful stones." "Our eternal protector." There were countless legends of the Sand Queen's glorious battles, and even in death, she was still a formidable weapon. Nobody could have imagined that the demi-humans would have a counterstrategy ready for the Three Kings of the Forest. Now things were

going to get really ugly. Elisabeth cast her fatigued gaze forward. A gleaming crystal sat before her. And in it, Kaito Sena and Hina were sleeping peacefully amid the boulders. By all rights, Alice's statement should have come true. Elisabeth shouldn't have been able to make it in time. However, the crystal was still there, safe and sound. Elisabeth turned her focus to the duo responsible. The two stood as a pair, gold on the left and silver on the right. Jeanne and Izabella. By the time Elisabeth got there, the mixed-race people had already been trounced. Two of them—likely Rubens and Huey—were lying unconscious on the ground, and Jeanne stood astride them with one foot planted on each. According to Jeanne and Izabella, those two had fought tooth and nail to let the rest of their allies escape. The fact of the matter was, though, that it didn't much matter what exactly had happened there. The bigger problem was why Jeanne and Izabella were there at all. How had they gotten there on such an impossible notice? And what's more, why weren't they at the demi-human settlement to take part in the crucial battle happening there? However, Jeanne and Izabella had answered those questions in full earlier. "Oh my, Fool, you didn't know? Damn, you really did go soft! C'mon, how fuckin' obvious was it that the best way for those jackasses to turn the tables on us would be snatchin' up God and Diablo?" "We knew that you two were handling Alice and Lewis, so we got permission to stand guard here. Jeanne was the one who figured out where to go. She reasoned that if you wanted to hide something, this would be the best place to do it. When we split up, I assumed she would be back immediately, but it turned out that she got it right on the first try. That intuition of hers is really quite something. I must admit I'm proud of her." After hearing that, Elisabeth was satisfied. Now that she thought about it, that did make sense. She hadn't considered it at the time, but Jeanne knew how well hidden this place was better than anyone. Once she realized that was what happened, a flood of relief washed over her. If those two had actually switched sides on her, it all would have been over. Afterward, they used Vlad's window to learn what was happening in the settlement. Izabella shook her head and turned her gaze skyward. She whispered, her voice choked with bewilderment. "Who would have dreamed that they would use the Sand Queen's corpse like that...? I mean, that's the object of their worship. How could they even think of doing something so blasphemous? I can't even begin to wrap my head around it. It all just seems so unbelievable." "I can certainly see it seeming that way, especially to you. But I daresay you have it backward." "...How so?" "Desecrating the Sand Queen's corpse is a grave taboo, aye. But that's precisely why the idea came to them. The mental weight of betraying everything cast the thing they were supposed to protect most of all in a brand-new light. If they were already going to sacrifice everything for the sake of their race, then there was no need for half measures." Elisabeth tried to conjure up an image of Aguina in her mind. However, she could no longer picture that sharp-tongued intellectual with any sort of accuracy. She had no idea what kind of expression he bore at the moment. That fact was probably sad, all things considered. At the moment, though, there were other issues that demanded her attention. Once the Three Kings got injured, they would have begun beating a defensive retreat. Officially, though, I'm a traitor. My showing up would only serve to throw the human forces into disarray. I have to send Jeanne and Izabella back, move the crystal, and if at all possible, aid our side's retreat while remaining unnoticed... Such thoughts were highly unbecoming of the Torture Princess. Well aware of that, Elisabeth laid her hand on the crystal. It was cold and hard against her palm. First things first, she began trying to think of somewhere to send it. Then Jeanne spoke. "There's something I really must ask, lady. What do you intend to do? The mixed-race folk have their sights set on the crystal, as do the masses. Plus, everyone's got their asses all riled up now. Plus, the situation's changed, and you know what that means." Given the current state of affairs, hiding the crystal for any prolonged amount of time would be nigh impossible. The likelihood their foes would get their hands on Kaito Sena, as well as the danger if they did, had just gone through the roof. Izabella picked up where Jeanne left off. "With the beastfolk's help, it would probably be possible to find somewhere safe to put the crystal. But with the Three Kings of the Forest injured, there's a real danger that Sir Kaito Sena will end up being used as a bargaining chip. The situation really is different now. And whether we have the crystal or not, our enemies aren't going to hold back anymore." At the moment, scores of people were dying over in the settlement. Every second counted. However, the two of them were willing to expend that precious time asking Elisabeth about her intentions. That was simply how large of a threat the prospect of God and Diablo falling into enemy hands was. Elisabeth quietly returned Izabella's gaze and nodded. She was all too aware of that. The information has already leaked once, and no plan is ever perfect. Even if I hide it somewhere only I know, there's a limit to the range of unexpected situations I can deal with. There's no way to totally guarantee the crystal's safety. That meant that at the moment, the best course of action would be to destroy it. However, that was something Elisabeth refused to do. And besides, there was something else she knew, too. On a long enough timeline, even that would amount to folly. Even if they destroyed the vessel and returned God and Diablo to their higher plane, someone would eventually just summon them again. When that happened, it would truly mark the end of days. In time, the world would surely be destroyed. "If we smash it, a new contractor will eventually rise up anyhow. They already figured out how to make the Fremd Torturchen, and with each experiment a talented mage performs, the day of destruction grows that much closer. The only way to achieve true equilibrium is to free this world from God and Diablo and to end the cycle of creation and destruction altogether." The problem was, how? Elisabeth knew the risks involved, and she knew she couldn't do it alone. As she got to work drawing the teleportation circle to her chosen destination, she prepared to explain her plan. But then she heard it. To. Fro. Chitter. Chatter. There was a voice. It was a young girl singing, her voice loud and full of pride. She called out, her tone that of a person dashing through a field with deranged abandon and laughing their head off. "Holy, Holy, Holy!" she cried. "Lord God Almighty! "Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. "Amen. "Hallelujah." Elisabeth could definitely make out someone whispering. A chill ran down her spine. She didn't know why, but she felt as though she had just been asked to do the impossible. That she'd just been given a perverse order. Until the day of your death, try to do some good at least. And if you cannot do good, then die. Then someone continued that thought in a strangely childish voice. "So if you say that God, too, should perish..." Then doesn't that mean the world should perish? Wouldn't that be the greatest good of all? Suddenly, Elisabeth recalled the sight of a young saint's eyes. So much had happened since then that the memory was a bit foggy. But the hatred in those eyes had been something else. Apparently, the saint's explanation was that her body had moved on its own when she saw the danger Izabella was in. However, that didn't explain the intense emotion she had expressed. And that wasn't all. Izabella had probably only told Kaito Sena's location to a few trusted confidantes. That way, the information wouldn't have been lost with her if she failed her mission. But no matter how tight-lipped a paladin was, there was one type of person they would always willingly divulge anything to. After all, the saints were the most respected people in the Church. Realization shot through Elisabeth like a bolt of lightning. She knew who had leaked the location to Alice's men. Suddenly, Izabella looked up. After looking around, she gave a relaxed greeting. "Hmm? Who goes...? Ah, pardon my rudeness. Might I ask what brings you—?" "Izabella, you fool! Get back!" However, Elisabeth's shout came too late. At some point, a girl with dead eyes had appeared before them. Her slender legs were bound, but without a word, she unfastened all her restraints. When she did, the wounds on her pale legs opened up, revealing the rows of saliva-covered teeth inside her flesh. A snake slithered out from within their warm darkness. Then, with a flash of light, it shot toward Izabella's throat. Elisabeth conjured a shield of darkness. However, the divine beast shattered her hastily improvised defense with ease. Izabella's half-mechanical face froze in shock. Then the divine beast bit deep into human flesh. Namely, the back of Jeanne's neck. "J-Jeanne...?" "Rgh... Gah... Well, that stings...like a bitch..." "That won't do. Won't, won't, won't do. That won't do." Izabella let out a dumbfounded cry. As she did, Jeanne's groan and the saint girl's words came in unison. As she whispered, the girl slowly rocked from side to side. Sure enough, her eyes burned with an intense hatred. The mouths on her legs wriggled and squirmed in accordance with the saint's quiet fury. Several more divine snakes poked their heads out of the openings. They emanated a slithering sound, as though trying to imitate the real things. Meanwhile, Izabella's confusion grew ever deeper. "B-but why? Why...why would a saint such as yourself...? Jeanne? Jeanne!" The Torture Princess clicked her tongue. Izabella was too straitlaced to understand what was going on. For now, that made her useless. Upon reaching that verdict, Elisabeth moved to provide the other two with cover and squared off against the young saint on her own. The girl's skin was deathly pale, and she was still rocking from side to side. She directed a quiet whisper at Elisabeth. "You. I, knew it... Ever since, I heard, you were moving the crystal. I knew, you would reach that blasphemous conclusion. Because that's all you have. You want, to cut Him off." "...Interesting. I see your mind's clear enough when it comes to matters involving God, then." "You want to, separate the world from God, and take us saints, and cut off our connections to Him, don't you?" The young saint's head slumped to the side at an odd angle. Elisabeth raised both eyebrows. The girl had her pegged. She was right—Elisabeth wanted to find a way to free the world from the system that was God and Diablo. That was the only way to save the people who lived in it. To those two higher entities, their world was nothing more than a castle of sand. As things currently stood, stability would remain forever beyond their reach. Elisabeth unashamedly explained her theory to the saint. "And what's so wrong about that? At the end of the day, God and Diablo are naught but natural mechanisms! Entities that do nothing but repeat their cycle of creation and destruction! 'Twas man that decided God worth worshipping, but both of them are terrifying in

equal measure! Why is it, then, that you cling so steadfastly to your connection with it?!" "No, no... I—I, you see. I, believed, in God. Believe, in God. Believed, really, reeeeally hard. But ever, since, my legs, were blessed with, these holy wounds, my memories, have, been really, spotty, you see? But, you see. There was someone, who believed, even if salvation wasn't coming. He, I mean—he—" Suddenly, the saint's voice began to tremble. For once, she was whining in a manner befitting a girl her age. Large tears glistened in her eyes. Elisabeth was struck silent. The vast majority of saints had had all but the barest of human emotions stripped from them, but the girl before her was crying in unmistakable grief. "He said it, right through to the end. That God was with him. He said that God was with him!" "...Wait, you know of La Christoph's final moments?" "I do! I— We, we all do! We're all, the same. We all believe in God, and we all love God, so, so, so why? Why would you take Him away?" The girl shouted as she cried. However, her expression itself never changed. The tears merely streamed down her cheeks. She was heartbroken, just as anyone would be if someone they loved was on the verge of being killed. Whether she wanted to or not, Elisabeth could tell. Compared to the Torture Princess, who was fighting for a brand of justice disconnected from any worldly desires, the girl's stance was almost more respectable. She had faith in God, belief in her compatriots, and sorrow for those she'd lost. In fact, she probably didn't even care. She didn't even care that her prayers were going unheard. She didn't care that God was just a name they'd affixed to an utterly alien entity. She's driven by a simple love of God, so explaining to her that God is unnecessary will never get through. It was as a child loved their parent or as a parent loved their child or as anyone would rail against having someone they needed ripped from their bosom. And because of that, Elisabeth spoke. "See, I can scarce think of anything further beneath my interest." For to her, that was something that didn't matter in the slightest. Nothing in the world was wrong or mistaken anymore. After all, justice, righteousness, and goodness had all been lost. For instance, how could anyone truly come up with answers? Was the mixed-race people's hatred just? Was the beastfolk's fury just? Was the demi-humans' desperate struggle just? If you asked any of them why they did what they did, they'd all give you the same answer. It was the only choice we had. But that wasn't true, now was it? They could have always choked back their hatred and fury. And they could have always just shut up and let themselves be killed. But they rejected that tragedy. Instead of staying silent, they reached for swords. They refused to let themselves fall victim to tyranny. They chose to fight for something. And once that choice was made, they had to see their conviction through to the end. The girl believed that the world needed God. Elisabeth had decreed that it didn't. That was all. There was no good there, nor was there evil. And right and wrong didn't even begin to factor in. "As such..." *** "...I shall cut you down. Go now to your end, with belief in your heart and hatred for me on your lips." Having already stepped forward, Elisabeth held the Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal aloft. But the moment before the blade met its target, the wounds on the girl's legs loudly opened up. Inside, hundreds of teeth sat in shiny rows, like she had undergone some sort of macabre surgery. The mouths laughed as one. Then light gushed from their throats like vomit. A massive serpent wrapped itself around the girl, so large it seemed almost to be strangling her. Elisabeth carefully adjusted the tip of her blade to aim at a gap between its coils. The serpent writhed and it reared its many heads. Then, all at once the deadly balance was broken. "The thing is, people's worth lies solely in their value as playthings. And your faith is uninteresting to me. Begone from my sight." A voice boomed out that sounded almost human, and a presence of overwhelming darkness made its appearance. Sensing imminent danger, Elisabeth stopped in her tracks, then quickly leaped backward. And with a single sweep of the Kaiser's mighty tail the frail young saint was sent flying. 12 The Lovers' Oath There was no change to the chessboard in that red room. Just a bestial piece that should have vanished, still moving around. And another piece, one that was covered in blood. The second piece had no effect on the board as a whole. And yet even so, someone was crying. "You're so important to me," they were saying. "I want you by my side. Even if the world doesn't need you there. "Please. "I'm begging you." "...Kaiser?" "Ha, and what a sorry state you're in. To think that the self-proclaimed Torture Princess would nearly let herself get eaten by a divine beast." The Kaiser laughed, mocking her from the bottom of his heart. Elisabeth frowned. The question was, why was he there? Behind him, the saint's limbs lay broken and twisted in all the wrong directions, and the wounds on her legs were closed up so tight it was like they weren't even there. She clearly wasn't getting back up any time soon. Elisabeth had been saved. However, the Kaiser's very existence was a mystery. Vlad is dead. By all rights, his contract should have died with him. Elisabeth started to ask for an explanation, but the Kaiser shook his jaw at her in preemptive annoyance. "Now, it seems to have slipped your mind, but...do you not care what happens to the other girl?" "...Ah! Jeanne!" Elisabeth whirled around. He was right—now was no time for questions. Jeanne had just had her neck torn open. And given how deep the wound was, it was doubtful she'd be able to close it properly. Elisabeth rushed over to the golden girl. Izabella was cradling her. It was like a scene straight out of a fairy tale. The golden princess was in the knight's arms, eyes closed as though sleeping. Her luxurious honey-blond hair was splayed out and reached all the way to the ground. However, much of it was stained a grim shade of crimson. Izabella desperately tried to maintain pressure on the neck wound. "Elisabeth, the blood... There's so much blood! What do we do? Oh, Jeanne..." "There's no need to cry like that, my lady... It's a damn waste of that pretty li'l face of yours." Jeanne opened her eyes and reached out with her bloodstained hand. She made to stroke Izabella's cheek but stopped at the last moment. Not wanting to soil what little skin Izabella's face had left, she slowly returned her arm to her side. Then it was Izabella who reached out. She grabbed Jeanne's hand and pressed it against her cheek. Large tears rolled down over Jeanne's tiny palm. One after another, the clear drops cascaded to the ground. Jeanne's eyes widened a little. She spoke in an unhurried tone. "How very sweet of you. Heh, I wouldn't mind droppin' dead right here and now." "Please, you mustn't say things like that. I'm begging you." "This place...really does bring back memories. Both then and now, ain't never been nothin' but death here." Upon hearing that, Elisabeth took another look around. Jeanne had a point. This was Jeanne de Rais's birthplace, a cradle built specifically to raise her. And so, too, was it the graveyard where the alchemists had sacrificed themselves. Jeanne's rose-red gaze flitted about their surroundings. The crucified corpses that had once decorated the area were no longer anywhere to be seen. She looked back at Izabella and let out a small breath. "Everyone lives knowing that death will someday take them. To the people here, I was nothing but a puppet meant to massacre them all. 'Grant us our wish, O Torture Princess,' they said. 'Send us to our eternal rest.' That's so messed up! I mean, if you're dying, your dreams ain't worth shit. They're just a burden, weighing down the livin'... I won't speak ill of their pride itself, but they could have stood showing their emotions a little more. But now there's nothing but death here, and—" "Jeanne, that's enough! Please don't say any more. You're making your wound worse. You—" "But you...you were always so warm." Jeanne slowly closed her eyes. Her lips curled into a smile. Elisabeth thought back. Jeanne's crass manner of speaking was something she'd picked up from a group of bandits she went and captured, but the alchemists themselves hadn't taught her a thing about how to express emotions. And yet in spite of that, and in spite of the blood she was drenched in, she was looking up at Izabella with a gaze full of heartfelt adoration. As Izabella's tears rolled over her palms, Jeanne thoroughly mulled over every word as she spoke. "Even with so much machinery in you... Even after what I did to you, you're still so warm." "Don't say it like that—you saved me. I, you...you bring so much warmth into my life as well... Please, you can't die on me. Don't die. I'm begging you!" Izabella squeezed Jeanne's hand even tighter than before. She was crying like a child, tears gushing from her blue and purple eyes. The way she embraced Jeanne, it was like she was desperately trying to pin her to the mortal coil. She buried her face in Jeanne's honey-blond hair and whispered. "I'm begging you, my love." "...Say what?" And for her troubles she got back an incredulous cry. "O-oh, goodness." Elisabeth reflexively stepped back. Now she was worried about what was to come for a completely different reason than she had been before. Jeanne jerked her torso all the way vertical in a highly inadvisable maneuver for someone on death's door. Elisabeth took another step back. Her intuition had been right on the mark. As for Jeanne herself, though, Izabella commanded the sum total of her attention. Jeanne's rose-red eyes were as wide as dinner plates. She spoke in an unnervingly serious tone. "Again." "J-Jeanne, that's not important, your wound—" "Please repeat what you just said." "Wh-which part?" "'My...'" "...My love?" And with that, Jeanne died. No, wait, she just toppled over backward. Izabella cried out, frantically supporting her back and embracing her. Her tone rang with desperation. "Please, my love, you have to stay with me!" As Elisabeth listened to the dead-serious plea, she gave the two of them an askance look. Despite being a dog, the Kaiser's expression was much the same as hers. Then Jeanne abruptly sat up again. She, too, sounded scarily serious, but her tone was bewildered in equal measure. "My lady, might it be the case that you, um, well, perhaps think of me...in that light? Y'know, kinda sorta maybe like lovers?" "...Forget what I think—I already am your lover, am I not?" Jeanne died. Oh, enough of that already, Elisabeth silently retorted. "Ah," Jeanne said, then rose with surprising ease. However, she gave that no follow-up. Her mouth flapped open and closed, but her voice refused to come out. However, the cause wasn't exactly medical in nature. She then repeated the whole process several times, making it look like she was performing some sort of heretical ritual dance. A moment after she finished, she launched into a barrage of questions. "But then why do you never act like it? One day you're kind to me, the next you seem wholly uninterested, and some days you barely even greet me. How many fuckin' beastfolk doors do you think I've had to smash down just so I could

get some damn advice?!" "You know, I'm still waiting for you to apologize about that," Elisabeth noted. "Can it, bitch. One thing at a time." "...Y-you were smashing down doors? Anyhow, I thought that changing my lifestyle and behavior just because I was in a relationship would come across as insincere, but...if it made you feel insecure, then I was putting the cart before the horse. I'm truly sorry." Izabella scratched her cheek and gave Jeanne an apologetic bow. Jeanne began vibrating. Her expression couldn't keep up with all the powerful emotions welling up inside her, and as she shouted, she seemed liable to explode at any moment. "But you never answered my c-c-confession!" "I did! I told you, 'I've acknowledged your feelings, and I appreciate them.' If I was turning you down, I would have said so!" "Surely you could have picked something a little more romantic, you dumbass! Fuck I love you!" Meanwhile, Elisabeth and the Kaiser shared an inane little exchange of their own. "That girl is quite something... Even her normal speech is starting to sound like that." "What do you mean by 'like that,' Kaiser?" "You know, I'm not quite sure myself." Elisabeth couldn't begin to tell if Jeanne was acting angry or being bashful or what. All she knew for sure was that Jeanne was puffing up her cheeks and swaying side to side. That was when Elisabeth realized something. The wound on Jeanne's neck was completely healed. A small piece of metal had come off Izabella's hand and carefully sealed up the fang wound. Like Waltz, it was a technique that only the two of them could have pulled off. Ah, Elisabeth thought, satisfied. There really hadn't been a need to cry. Izabella was still worried about Jeanne's wound, but she steeled her resolve all the same. She had caused her lover to worry, and no person half as earnest as her would be able to forgive themselves for something like that. She reverently took Jeanne's hand in hers. Then, as Jeanne went still, she pressed her lips against Jeanne's fingers. It was beautiful and heartwarming, like a scene plucked straight out of a fairy tale. Izabella then spoke, the words coming from the bottom of her heart. "My dearest beloved. You cast aside your weapon for me, saved me, sacrificed yourself for me, and fell from the sky into my arms. And in that moment, you were the most beautiful star I had ever seen—a light that shone for me and me alone. I ask of you this: Will you stay by my side for the rest of our days?" Jeanne shook violently and nearly keeled over. It was far too much for her heart to take. However, she valiantly fought to stay upright. In spite of herself, Elisabeth found it somewhat impressive. This time, it was Izabella who had gone a bit overboard. Jeanne, not sure how to respond, lapsed back into her strange heretical dance. She squeezed her fists and eyes tightly shut. In the end, she shouted but a single word. "Marriage!" "Of course! We'll have a big ceremony in the Capital!" The two of them exchanged a firm embrace. Hmm, Elisabeth thought. Technically, Jeanne had been in a life-threatening situation. And now the two lovers had both successfully survived. Not only that, they'd finally managed to communicate their feelings to each other. Jeanne cried in joy, and Izabella gently stroked her fair back. Viewed objectively, the whole situation was downright moving. However, both members of the audience felt as though they'd been left completely in the dust. Elisabeth shook her head from side to side. Then she looked over at the Kaiser and shot him a question. "What exactly did I just witness?" "Hell if I know." And at the end of the day there was really no other way to put it. 13 Something Broken At that point anyone who saw what was atop the chessboard in that red, red room would surely cry out. "Oh God, it's horrible." "What did I just see?!" "You saw it, too, right? That girl's eyes?" "Please, someone, anyone, make her close them." "I feel like I just got cursed." It was a later time and, moreover, a different place. Namely, the royal castle. Specifically, the chamber that sat before the Room of Pain on the underground tomb's lowest level. Watched over by the rows of coffins and generations of deceased royalty stood two people. Elisabeth Le Fanu and Maclaeus Filliana. The Torture Princess and the human king. Officially speaking, the Torture Princess was on the Most Wanted list, meaning their rendezvous was by necessity a clandestine one. That was what made that section of the tomb such a perfect spot—because the kings' corpses were interred there, the entire chamber was sealed off. Even with the death of its former Grave Keeper, Vlad Le Fanu, it was unlikely that anyone else would come down. There, the only company was the dead. A large crystal gleamed under the room's hemispherical ceiling. The dappled light it cast made the entire room look like the bottom of a pool. Even so, though, it was still dim, and their expressions were grave. Elisabeth spoke first, her tone detached. "How many dead?" "We don't have hard numbers yet, but it looks to be over a third. The situation is grim." Elisabeth nodded. If anything, that was lower than she'd expected. She thought back. After returning to the settlement, Jeanne and Izabella had aided in the retreat, as had Elisabeth, albeit from the shadows. By that point, though, many of the beastfolk and humans had already made their escape. That was thanks to some decisive action from the Three Kings of the Forest, who had quickly decided to devote their full efforts toward protecting the survivors. Furthermore, the Sand Queen didn't pursue them particularly far. The mixed-race people had wanted to give chase, but the Queen herself refused. Her priority had been protecting the demi-human settlement. Apparently, the mana in her corpse had taken on some of her personality. And as a mother, that personality was intent on protecting her children. It was also unclear whether or not Satisbarina's son had survived, but at the moment, that was the least of their worries, and they didn't exactly have the means to look into it anyway. Most of the dead beastfolk and humans had yet to even be identified. And then there were those who'd been reduced to ash, those who would forever be listed as missing in action. "The beastfolk trump card was bested, our foes have obtained a new weapon...and the Fremd Torturchen grew stronger still. We were successful in slaying Lewis, but even so, 'tis unclear which way the scales will tip." Elisabeth crossed her arms. Their overwhelming advantage had been overturned in the blink of an eye. Now it was impossible to say which of the scale's plates weighed heavier. Everything was in absolute chaos. This is what happened when rage was met with rage. The two would clash, and sparks would go flying every which way. Now the true battle, the one they'd anticipated all along, was beginning. The curtain had raised on a grand, all-encompassing war. And ironically, it was a war nobody had ever wanted. Even the mixed-race people would be hard-pressed to say that this was the outcome they had sought. Elisabeth shook her head. Then she posed another question. "...I know not her name, but last I saw, that saint girl was still alive. What became of her?" "If it's La Filsell you're asking about, she's resting in a Church clinic. She fractured half the bones in her body and suffered serious organ damage, but she narrowly escaped death. I hear that La Dhruv—a fellow saint whose divine beasts take the form of fish—is keeping her company as she recovers." "...The saints sympathize with her?" "By and large, yes. But many of them are condemning her actions and calling her attack on Jeanne de Rais uncalled for. I don't foresee this causing any problems with our ability to secure their assistance. They understand what La Christoph stood for and how he viewed salvation." ...Do they, though? Privately, Elisabeth wasn't so sure about that. For many of the saints, having their prayers granted left their bodies horribly disfigured. To them, God was all they had. It wouldn't be strange in the slightest if more of them resisted the prospect of having their connection to Him severed. These were people who didn't even have families. If anything, it would be strange for them not to balk at losing the one absolute bond in their lives. It was impossible for outsiders to understand just how alone saints were and how important their faith was to them. Suddenly, Elisabeth turned her gaze to the wall farther in. There was a carving there of the Saint embracing a blob of meat swaddled in cloth. And beside her stood her demi-human servant. He, too, had ended his life while blindly believing in his mother. However, he left the world without a single regret. Elisabeth wordlessly shook her head. She turned her gaze back away from the carving and began thinking. A way to sever our connection to God and Diablo, eh...? Due to the fuss around Izabella and Jeanne's engagement, Elisabeth had almost missed her chance to explain her plan to them. But explain it she did, and she was set on carrying it out. It was unclear if it would actually work or not, but she knew she had to go for it. Even if doing so would end up sending her to her eternal rest. Maclaeus cast his dull green eyes downward. That information was precisely why he had sought that meeting with Elisabeth out. He hesitantly spoke. "I heard about your plan from Vicker... Are you serious about that?" "Aye. You've realized, too, I imagine? That until we're freed from the system of God and Diablo, we shall never obtain true peace. Not until the end of time." Maclaeus's expression darkened when he heard the certainty in Elisabeth's tone. Patterns of light from the crystal danced on his face. Deep down inside, that was something he already knew. Mankind's sole available path was both treacherous and paved with blasphemy. The Torture Princess thought back to the plan she'd laid out right before teleporting away from Jeanne's birthplace. The first hurdle they had to clear was also going to be the hardest. We have to capture Fremd Torturchen Alice Carroll, otherwise known as Sara Yuuki, transfer just Kaito Sena's contract with Diablo into her body, then kill her. In other words, they would return Diablo to whence it came. That would leave only God behind. After that, even if someone managed to summon Diablo, they could use God to keep it in check. Then, if they eventually developed the ability to perfectly control God's power without having it run amok, it would be possible to rid the world of Diablo's influence for good. All they needed to do that was to get God to recognize its every act of violence, including the lesser demons' acts of destruction, as "destruction carried out before the reconstruction." That way, God would reject them as being violations of the system. And with Diablo unable to commit acts of destruction, God's ability to influence the world would be severed in turn. Once that happened, the world would be free from its role as the higher beings' sandcastle. The infinite cycle of being endlessly destroyed and constructed anew would finally end. The one rub was that no mage alive had the power to completely control God. Their only choice was to stake their future on finding a solution to that issue during the reprieve that temporarily getting rid of Diablo would buy them. It was a dangerous gamble, to be sure. However, mankind had already come up with a way to create the Fremd Torturchen. It would probably involve

straying from the straight and narrow, but odds were good that there were other such innovative techniques just waiting to be discovered. Someday, that hurdle would be cleared, too. The bigger problem was the here and now. Too many people knew that Kaito Sena was the vessel, so leaving God with him was too great a risk. As such, I have no choice but to make a contract with the Kaiser, grow my power through battle, and become God's vessel myself. With Kaito Sena left behind... The amount of mana he's amassed towers head and shoulders over that of any other. Keeping me hidden will be child's play for him. It will wound him to have to do so, but...he'll have Hina by his side. I'm sure he'll be fine. Elisabeth nodded as the image of that lovable maid flashed through her mind. At the moment, they were storing the crystal outside the beastfolk lands. The beastfolk would want to point fingers for their historic defeat, and there was a fear that both Vyadryavka and the crystal itself would come under fire. Right before moving it, Elisabeth laid out her thinking to everyone. Izabella had hesitated for a moment, then replied simply, "It won't be easy." Jeanne just shrugged. And the Kaiser, as though filling in for Vlad, responded with exasperation. He shook his tail and laughed in that ever-so-human voice of his. "Some God, getting dragged this way and that way and every other which way like that. Idiots, the lot of you. You know, I almost wonder what the greatest idiot I know would have thought of all this..." Elisabeth didn't have to wonder. Kaito Sena was going to be livid. This isn't what I wanted for you! he would no doubt angrily cry. What do you think it was I fought so hard for?! However, the situation was different now. She couldn't protect him anymore. Because of that, this was their only option. Knowing that filled Elisabeth not with hesitation but with an emotion that bore a strong resemblance to relief. It was almost as though she actually wanted to lay down her burden. However, Elisabeth chose to focus her attention away from that secret desire of hers. All that mattered was that her plan was the best one for the situation. If it didn't change what she had to do, then how she felt about it didn't much matter. However, there was still an elephant in the room. With Alice as she is, will we truly be able to capture her? "I can see you've made up your mind... In that case, it's paramount that we get a read on Alice Carroll's movements. There's a problem, though. At the moment, she's completely vanished from the site of the settlement." "Aye, so she has. And I haven't the faintest idea as to why." "It's odd, isn't it? Where could she have gone?" Both of them had dropped their voices to whispers. They could feel it—something was terribly amiss about the whole situation. Right after the humans and beastfolk made their retreat, one mystery had thrown everyone for a loop. The disappearance of Alice Carroll. And to muddy the waters even further, the first ones who'd begun searching for Alice were none other than the mixed-race people themselves. As it turned out, the scene from Vlad's window was the last time anyone had actually laid eyes on her. After that, she simply headed off somewhere without even telling her allies. Elisabeth thought back to the way she'd screamed upon losing Lewis. "How dare you. HOW DARE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!" That roar had been packed with more fury than should have even been possible. It was unclear what she intended to do next, but one thing was for certain. Her striking Vlad down was only the beginning. Alice would never forgive them. For just as I love Kaito Sena... ...Alice Carroll loved Lewis. It was as a child loved their parent. As a person loved another. As one would love any whom they ought to love. And as such, there could be no forgiveness. Not for anyone. Not ever. Suddenly, Elisabeth realized that something was off. Small specks of something were raining down on her shoulder. She looked up in confusion, only to discover that small chunks of debris were falling from the ceiling. Well, no matter then, she thought and turned her gaze back down. A moment later, though, she let out a small gasp. What was happening shouldn't have been possible. That chamber had been crafted by the Saint herself. Even the finest of modern technology wouldn't have been able to replicate it, and its seamless walls boasted hardness unparalleled. There was no reasonable way debris should have been falling from its ceiling. The next moment, a violent tremor ran through the entire tomb. Maclaeus lost his balance and nearly toppled over. He clung to a coffin for support and shouted. "Wh-what...what's that?!" "It's the surface! I can sense several sources of mana; this is—" A chill ran down Elisabeth's entire body. This was no ordinary dark magic at play. She could sense powerful, malignant presences appearing one after another, each horrible and alien enough to qualify as a monster in their own right. During a brief moment of relative quiet, Elisabeth took off at a dash. Leaving Maclaeus behind, she threw the chamber's heavy doors ajar. From there, she made for the stairs. Teleportation circles didn't work in the tomb, and although there were a number of spots designated for their use, she didn't have time to waste standing in line. Instead, she raced up the stairs alongside the paladins and Royal Knight guards doing the same. A handful of them noticed who she was, but none of them commented on that fact. They all just kept running. All the while, the tremors continued, each one dashing Elisabeth against the wall. And they had only grown stronger by the time she reached the final set of stairs. Several people even lost their footing and went tumbling down backward. One knight was falling in a particularly dangerous-looking manner, so Elisabeth kicked him back upright as she made her way to the surface. The moment she reached the entrance, she was greeted by the blinding light of day and a chorus of cries. The voices were definitely human. However, they sounded as much like demons as anything else. Eventually, she made her way outside and discovered a whole new hell laid out before her. A calamity cometh. No a calamity has come. To all the people of the land. The messenger blew the bugle of the end. It's time for a story. Normally, when someone died a death as pitiful, unseemly, cruel, and gruesome as a worm getting stepped on, they didn't get a second shot at life. It would be ridiculous to suggest that everyone simply got to go to the world of their dreams after they died. To sum it up, the answer was simple. Miracles didn't happen. That was all there was to it. Plus, even if they did get a second shot at life, sometimes all that awaited them were simply more horrors. Right now, Elisabeth was learning that fact firsthand. Pools of blackened crimson were spreading out all around the underground tomb. The pools, which looked like toxic swamps, were actually aberrant teleportation circles. They spread corrosively, paying no heed to the barrier the priests had set up around the entire Capital. The ground frothed, like the earth itself was boiling. Then several figures emerged through the circles, each more horrible than the circles themselves. The figures were human. But so, too, were they weapons. They had been transformed into fixed batteries. And the treatment they'd undergone was crueler than even La Mules's had been. Their eyelids were stitched together, their tongues had been plucked out, their teeth had been removed, their limbs had been severed, and their bodies had been affixed to pillories. And yet even so, they were still alive. All the fixed batteries were golems, which meant they were immortal as long as they didn't suffer catastrophic blood loss. In other words, the fixed batteries... ...were the broken husks of what had once been reincarnations. Elisabeth let out a faint murmur. "...This is beyond the pale." Those were people who had no business even being in that world, all made to bear unbelievable burdens. She had underestimated just how broken her late foe had been. Summoning Alice had taught Lewis that his method worked. And because of that, he must have repeated the process, finishing up one reincarnation after another. However, he had only one heart to give. That meant he could only make one Fremd Torturchen. If he tried to make more, it would only dilute the power each could command. But then what to do with the rest of the people he summoned? Worry not. There was no shortage of ways to put vessels with limitless mana to use. For example, this. He could assign demon contracts to the spare reincarnations willy-nilly, feed them pain, and expand their mana stores. From there, all he had to do was teach them how to shoot forward and train them to act on his signal. That way, he could build himself a mighty fine collection of fixed batteries. They had probably been in the proverbial shop up until then, which is why they hadn't been deployed earlier. Now, though, they were seeing their first live battle. As far as that world was concerned, it marked the first time someone had taken another sentient person and made them into a living weapon without their consent. The reincarnations' egos had been destroyed, but even so, the amount of hatred they fostered toward that world that had given them nothing but pain was downright terrifying. A bombardment poured from their mouths like both a wave of vomit and a chorus of screams. They were calamities given flesh, spreading beams of absolute destruction wherever they faced. And all the while, their screams never ceased. Nobody could so much as get close to them. And standing at the center of all this was an adorable little girl. Alice Carroll. To. Fro. Chitter. Chatter. There were voices. Throngs of people sobbing and screaming and trembling. Someone was loudly screaming. There were no words, only pain. Someone else was lamenting the terror of it all, their tone that of a person dashing through a field with deranged abandon and laughing their head off. "What's even happening?" And there, in that place that seemed halfway between a nightmare and reality, a young girl spoke. "Come now, let's be good girls and sing a song. "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall! Humpty Dumpty had a great fall! "All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again." The one thing that truly can't be put together again is this girl. Alice Carroll was broken. Elisabeth took a moment to let that fact sink in. As she did, the girl stopped singing and slowly spun to face her. The white, rabbit-ear-like ribbons attached to her oversized hat swayed from side to side. Just like before, Alice bent one knee in an elegant curtsy, and her white hair flopped adorably about. Their surroundings had been reduced to a grim hellscape. This was the Wonderland Alice herself had built. However, the way Alice faced her was much the same as ever. Alice spoke up. "Come on, Elisabeth! Let's plaaay!" Her tone was bright and cheery. It was as though she didn't have a single care in the world. Alice Carroll had broken past the point of no return. Nobody could put her together again. Elisabeth could tell that all this was happening because Lewis had been killed. But that wasn't the whole story. The mixed-race people being killed had started it as well, as had Alice's—that was, Sara Yuuki's—brutal death. By now, they were all avengers. Everyone hated everyone. And the

world kept on turning, just as properly as ever. And in that moment, a thought crossed Elisabeth's mind. A thought she couldn't afford to harbor. ...Why should Kaito have to protect a world such as this? Why did the person she loved have to die? Why, for something so worthless? The expression vanished from Elisabeth's face. However, she immediately dashed forward. Hesitation wasn't in the Torture Princess's nature. She did a forward roll, practically dancing her way across the field of death. "Madam Elisabeth!" the knight she helped back on the stairs shouted. He rushed forward to try and back her up, but a blast struck him head-on and vaporized him in the blink of an eye. Elisabeth could tell what had happened, but she didn't look back. She knew that if she stopped, she would meet the same fate. She ran with all her might. The blasts came in straight lines, so it was simple enough to dodge them. The fixed batteries almost resembled religious icons, and the Torture Princess deftly wove her way between them. As she pushed on forward, there was one thing she was sure of. Alice needs to die. She had become something that could not be allowed to continue living. Killing her would ruin Elisabeth's plan, but she was well past the point of worrying about that. She raced onward, eventually reaching her target. Elisabeth drew her long sword from a swirl of black darkness and crimson flower petals. Her glossy hair swayed behind her as she appeared before the girl. Alice, for her part, was waiting for the Torture Princess without so much as a shred of fear. Her arms were spread wide, and a broad smile sat plastered across her face. It was like she was greeting a playmate and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Elisabeth's sword was raised aloft. Alice had her spoon in hand. Crimson and azure petals were cascading all around them. The Torture Princess gathered all the rage swirling in her heart, then brought her sword down and— Epilogue 1 The room was red. It had no windows. It had no doors. Nobody could leave it. And nobody could come in. It was almost like a graveyard. Or perhaps a prison. And yet now its nonexistent door was open. Kaito Sena slowly rose. He no longer bothered to look at the chaotic chessboard. However, he did turn to the seat across from him and gently patted his bride's head. Hina gave him a small nod. With that, Kaito Sena started walking. Hina called out toward his resolute back. "You're going?" "Yeah, I'm heading out." "Well, good luck." Then she went on: "Please do give my love to our beloved." Epilogue 2 Right before Elisabeth and Alice's blows met someone reached out and caught them. The ensuing gale force sent the person's tattered cloak flapping about. Their hood hung low, obscuring their face, but whoever they were, they had just caught the blades without so much as breaking a sweat. Elisabeth frowned. She could tell—if the person hadn't stepped in, she was the one whose chest would have been gouged out. She looked at the newcomer holding the blades. They really did resemble the Butcher...except for their hands. Their hands were human. This time, she had no choice but to admit it. A hot tear casually rolled down the Torture Princess's cheek. And with a thousand different emotions swelling up inside her, Elisabeth Le Fanu spoke. "Kaito, is that you?" Epilogue 0 This is a story from a short while earlier. A story of repentance, dreams, and hatred. "This can't be happening... This isn't happening, is it, Father? It isn't—it isn't—it isn't. Hee-hee, of course it isn't." Lewis's daughter let out a deranged laugh. As Lewis's guts spilled out of him, he felt a certain truth deep in his bones. Vlad Le Fanu's words had been completely true. At the end of the day, what Lewis had could hardly be described as paternal love. If being a good father had been his goal, then he'd gone about it in all the wrong ways. If he truly loved her then he should have comforted Sara Yuuki—Alice—and showered her with affection and support. He should have chosen to just live, and each of them could have helped to heal the other's scars. And of course, he definitely shouldn't have made any of those terrible weapons. They had been controversial even among the other mixed-race people, but Lewis couldn't help himself. He made sure to sow every seed of revenge he could find. He may have called Alice his daughter, but he certainly didn't treat her like one. Unlike Vlad, Lewis had some semblance of morals, yet he had gone and made the Fremd Torturchen anyway. That was a sin that went beyond the pale. There was no way for him to apologize. Not the slightest chance for atonement. And the cruelest part of it all... "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Even though I loved you, I still... I'm sorry, Alice." ...was that his love was true. To him, she was his joy. She was his hope, his salvation, and his beloved daughter. Meeting her was the first time Lewis had known joy. And the moment she became his daughter was the first time he learned what love was. That was all thanks to a single young girl. That was all thanks to her pure, innocent smile. He still had time. He still had a chance. What message should he leave her with? What was it he could only say now, in his final moments? Lewis hesitated. However, his mind was being assailed by unrelenting heat and pain. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know anything. Alice's smile became his sister's semen-drenched face, then his brother's hanged body. He remembered the day he held Alice tight as she sobbed during a nightmare. "I love you, Father." She smiled. "It's all your fault," his brother screamed. Family really was a beautiful thing. He wished he could have been with them longer, much longer. No, wait, he had a daughter now. Did he? He did. And so... And...so? Then he spoke. "Please, daughter, carry out my dream for me." And with that, the foolish man died. He remained a hopeless fool until the bitter end knowing full well how irredeemable he was even despite his love for his daughter. His daughter looked up at the sky. She was alone now. She blinked, her red eyes glowing from the fire all around her. Lewis hung motionless in her arms. His body was cold and hard. She gave a small, definite nod. Young as she was, she knew. This was what death was. Now he was like she had once been. And he would never move again. Alice didn't cry. She merely parted her arms. Lewis's corpse crumpled to the ground, but she no longer paid it any heed. After all, it was nothing more than an object now. Instead, she just looked up at the sky and laughed. Happily, happily. Merrily, merrily. She laughed and laughed and laughed and spoke. "I see, I see! Don't worry, Father. I understand completely!" It's time for everyone to die together! Afterword Hello, Keishi Ayasato here. I don't know about you all, but my cat's been shedding like crazy this summer. Each time I looked down, I found I was covered in a sheet of white fur. As for Torture Princess, it's finally reached Volume 8. Dear me, how auspicious. Of course, because of the way it ended, I felt like I was raising a death flag for myself just by writing it. That said, it was also the volume where both I and Elisabeth came to understand what losing Kaito Sena truly meant, and I think I was able to convey everything I set out to in it. I was also really happy about being able to write about what became of all sorts of different members of the cast. Now, I don't know if all of them are truly happy with how things turned out for them, but all I can really do is write clearly—and, to the best of my ability, compellingly—about the way they choose to live their lives, so that's what I'm going to keep doing from now on. I hope I'll be able to do them justice in the next volume as well. I hope you'll read it and bear witness to their destinies. And I truly do hope you'll enjoy, even if only a little. Now then, as is custom, I have some people I'd like to thank. To Saki Ukai, for the breathtaking-as-always cover and all the other beautiful illustrations; to my editor O, for putting up with all the trouble I caused you this time; and to Hina Yamato, for the wonderful manga adaptation—I would like to thank you all so much. I'd also like to extend deep thanks to everyone else involved in the process, as well as my beloved family, particularly my sister. And more than anything, I would like to express my gratitude to my readers once more. Looking back, Torture Princess has come quite a long way. I fully believe that it's thanks to you all that the story was able to make it this far. Thank you so much for accompanying me on this journey. Now, I've mentioned this before on Twitter, and some of the clever ones among you probably realized on your own, but Torture Princess is structured in three-volume arcs. Volumes 1 to 3 were the Foolish Servant arc, Part I. Volumes 4 to 6 were the Foolish Servant arc, Part II. And sure enough, Elisabeth's story, the Torture Princess arc, is going to last from Volumes 7 to 9. So before I wrote Volume 6, I wrote up a three-volume plot outline that ended on Volume 9 and sent it over to my editor. In other words, what I'm saying is this: Whenever there's a beginning, there must always be an end. The next book will be the series finale. It's going to pick up where Volume 8 left off and go full throttle until it hits the finish line, so I imagine it's going to be a bit of a challenge to write. But I intend to give it my all. If you don't mind, I really hope you read it through to the end. This I humbly beg of you. There was something he once said. "We gotta bring this story to an end." There was something she once said. "Would it not be better for a world such as this simply to end?" There was something she once said. "Please, you must protect this world of yours." This is a tale that lies beyond the one of admiration, folly, and love— —and it's one of repentance, dreams, and hatred. I hope you'll accompany me one final time. The Final Miracle It's time for a story of a boy. His death was as meaningless as that of a worm—a death most pitiful, most unseemly, most cruel, and most gruesome. Ordinarily, there is no life after death. But because his soul was summoned to another world, the boy received precisely that opportunity. In truth, he had no desire to be brought back to life. Nevertheless, as soon as he was made flesh again, he was made to serve an overbearing master. That master was the very person who summoned him: the Torture Princess, Elisabeth Le Fanu. She had the pride of a wolf and was as lowly as a sow, a sinner ordered by the Church to butcher fourteen ranked demons and the people who had formed contracts with them. Once the task was complete, she herself was destined to face execution. She brought the boy back, and when all was said and done, he made the choice to continue serving her. Throughout Elisabeth Le Fanu's bloody life, she

was accompanied by a single foolish servant. The boy chose to live a life that would bring about such a tale. But the world betrayed that expectation, and the boy's destiny was radically transformed. It's time for a story of a hero. The world once very nearly met a tragic end. However, that seemingly immutable fate was altered by a single person. And the one who accomplished that miraculous feat was a boy who had reincarnated from another world. He got a chance at life, then had a number of experiences, some horrifying and some irreplaceable. Then after a long series of battles, he obtained a colossal amount of mana and used it to save someone precious to him. And while he was at it, he saved the world. By sacrificing himself. After burdening himself with God and Diablo, the boy fell into a deep slumber at the World's End. Thanks to his deeds, the people of the world managed to avoid the apocalypse. The greatest good for the greatest number was, surely, the greatest outcome. One could say they lived happily ever after. As an aside, there was one little fact. Hardly any knew it, and it was of little true importance. The fact was, the boy and hero were the same person. Thus did the story of admiration and folly and love come to its end. After that, they say, everyone lived in comfort and peace forever after. "Oh, were it only that simple." Right before Elisabeth and Alice's blows met, someone reached out and caught them. The ensuing gale force sent the person's tattered cloak flapping about. Their hood hung low, obscuring their face, but whoever they were, they had just caught the blades without so much as breaking a sweat. Elisabeth frowned. She could tell—if the person hadn't stepped in, she was the one whose chest would have been gouged out. She looked at the newcomer holding the blades. They really did resemble the Butcher...except for their hands. Their hands were human. This time, she had no choice but to admit it. A hot tear casually rolled down the Torture Princess's cheek. And with a thousand different emotions swelling up inside her, Elisabeth Le Fanu spoke. "Kaito, is that you?" The newcomer silently gave each of their blades a shove, and Elisabeth and Alice both leaped back. Upon landing, they reassumed their combat stances. The figure standing between them pulled back their hood. Now their face was plainly visible. The first thing that tumbled out of the tattered cloak was a mop of long dark hair, followed shortly by fair skin. Then came a pair of blinking eyes as tranquil as a lake shore. The figure's hair was the color of the night sky, and their eyes were the color of bones that had been burned to ash. Elisabeth choked out a murmur. "You." The person in the cloak was not Kaito Sena. It was, however, a woman Elisabeth knew well. The woman in question was the centerpiece of the Church's religion and, at the moment, a fugitive. She was the savior of all creation and a sinner without peer, mother to everything and an impartial reaper. She was the person who reconstructed the world, and she was the person who had beckoned its end. After a small shake of the head, Elisabeth spoke once more. "I can hardly say I expected to see you here, Saint." The genuine Suffering Woman returned Elisabeth's gaze. The faintest of smiles crossed her face. Then the Saint began her gentle speech. "We meet again, Torture Princess Elisabeth Le Fanu. I don't believe I've seen you since your dream. I'm sorry to have startled you somewhat, but now my wish to see you once more has finally been granted." "I...take it that means you've not come as my foe?" "Much to the contrary, in fact. Through God and Diablo—two entities I once harbored within my body—I heard his voice and came to rescue you. He's unable to come out here himself, but he was able to open a door and speak to me through it. Now I am here to deliver those words to you." She extended one hand toward the Torture Princess. Her skin resembled freshly driven snow, and sure enough, there was no hostility in the gesture. The hatred that had once colored her laughter was now gone and forgotten. "I impart unto you A Message from Him." Elisabeth's eyes went wide. The crystal was farther away than the World's End. Touching it accomplished nothing, and hearing voices from within was impossible. Yet the Saint was claiming that she had partially overcome that divide. Sure enough, though, Elisabeth could faintly sense Kaito Sena's presence coming from the woman before her. She could sense that kind, vaguely foolish warmth that had once always accompanied her. Almost on reflex, Elisabeth took the Saint's hand. That alien quality her palm once had was no more. Now it was faintly warm and faintly soft. The Saint and the Torture Princess looked each other in the eye. And not a moment later, a massive bombardment rained down upon them. The emanations of pain- and hate-filled magic bore a close resemblance to screams. Go on, cry out. Complain about your pain to your heart's content. Crush your throats. Burn your lungs. Your tongues and eyes and limbs have been torn from you. You are bound now as fixed batteries, and even death is denied to you. You hurt. For there is pain. You hate. For there is hatred. However, they didn't know who it was they should hate. They didn't even understand why this was happening to them. Let's make the story even simpler, then. What would a person hate in a situation like that? That's an easy enough question to answer. It's everything. They would hate the entire world. Once someone's pain reached a certain threshold, it burned away any sense of reason they might have had. By screaming, the fixed batteries were able to spread their hatred to their surroundings. Linear blasts of magic burst forth from their mouths, accompanied by heat and shock waves. Several paladins had emerged from the underground tomb upon catching sight of the Saint, and a good dozen of them were burned to a crisp. Flesh and blood and armor alike melted into the ground, and the bones peeking up from beneath the black sludge crumbled into dust. Elisabeth watched their grotesque transformations out of the corner of her eye as she waited for the light to pass. A massive shield stood before her—a wall of briars the Saint had conjured. Blocked by the wall, the blinding light passed behind them and faded away. The briars' roots were coiled around the Saint's arm. Her already-tattered cloak split even further, and she began bleeding all over. That aside, that single wall was all she needed to block the attack. Whether she wished it or not, the Suffering Saint's very existence was rooted in the concept of self-sacrifice, and her magic reflected that fact. "Hurting yourself to protect yourself? What a peculiar technique. I must say, I'm a little disappointed that didn't kill you." The hollow murmur came from Alice—the same little girl who'd given the order for the fixed batteries to fire. She pursed her lips with her hands clasped behind her back. Her blue dress was just as adorable as always, yet the way she looked in it now gave Elisabeth the impression of something that it never had before. It reminded her of a gargantuan stomach. To her, Alice seemed like a bloated organ, hideously pulsating and ever ravenous. Elisabeth shuddered in horror as she realized why she felt that way. The amount of mana Alice was wielding was unusually large. And what's more, it was growing steadily. It didn't make sense. At the moment, she already had more mana at her disposal than the Torture Princess did. Now that was always going to happen eventually. The Fremd Torturchen was a limitless vessel. The fact that she had the capacity to surpass Elisabeth was the whole reason she was even there. The problem was... ...'tis too fast! What in the blazes did she even... How many did she consume, and where did she even do it? "As long as you die this time, I think it should be fine. It's okay, remember! We're allll going to die together!" Alice smiled. Cheerily. She raised her right arm high, and flower petals began swirling azure around her fingers. The fixed batteries opened their mouths in unison. In an instant, she and the batteries would unleash a magical technique coupled with raw magical destruction at the same time. Then, out of the blue, Alice's arm got rent to the side. Red blood shot out from the wound and sprayed her in the face. However, she didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow. The blood transformed into a fresh wave of petals, and most of it gathered at Alice's wrist to heal her wound. Some of it, though, took on a different form and coalesced into a bizarre-looking swarm of bread-and-butterflies. The swarm flew at Alice's attacker, shedding off butter-colored scales in its wake. The slender woman beat a hasty retreat with her silver hair fluttering behind her. "Rgh! Looks like I'm not going to get anywhere trying to take her down." Elisabeth recognized her voice in an instant. She called to the woman by name. "Izabella!" Izabella tried to reply by giving her a wave. The moment she did, though, another bombardment rained down on them. The screamed blasts were as simple as they were powerful. However, they made up for that with sheer quantity. The linear attacks came from both high and low, and Izabella had to dance her way between all of them. She cast off her cloak in midair before safely landing back on the ground. There was a limit to how much she could dodge, however, and she slid in behind the Saint's shield before her luck had a chance to run out. She stood beside Elisabeth and panted for breath. A good chunk of the mechanical section of her face had been melted like butter. She had the butterfly scales to thank for that, no doubt. Izabella forced the gears in her cheek to spin faster than usual. By the look of it, she was having to accelerate the rate at which her organic parts regrew themselves. When she turned to face her two shieldmates, her blue and purple eyes widened a bit. As the leader of the Holy Knights, seeing the Saint in the flesh like that probably affected her more than most. However, she valiantly regained her composure, then spoke. "I apologize for my delayed arrival. I was talking to my men patrolling the city about revising our defensive perimeter when it all happened. At the moment, I have them heading up the evacuation efforts. As for you, uh, ma'am, I'm sorry, but you're not the most important thing on my plate right now. Madam Elisabeth, have you noticed?" "Noticed what, Izabella? Do you mean to say there's a matter more pressing than what's going on right in front of us?" "There is. Those fixed batteries aren't just here. They're appearing all over the capital. Demon grandchildren, too. And from the reports I'm getting...Alice attacked a series of towns and villages on her way here. We're getting distress calls from some, but there's probably far more that were hit, and even the ones with survivors were all but wiped out." Her expression was racked with grief. Elisabeth nodded. That was a method only the Fremd Torturchen could have used. Furthermore, it was one that had been unavailable to her back when she was operating within the framework of rebellion and following its strict methods and logic. There was no limit to the amount of mana Alice could hold within herself. She had no laws she was beholden to, and as someone who

was already dead, she had nowhere to run. As long as she had vast quantities available for her consumption, she had little reason to inquire about their quality, nor did she have any need to consider the bill that might eventually come due. She could simply make like a swarm of locusts, descending and eating ravenously until nothing remained. Then, upon finishing one bloody plate, she could just toss it aside and move on to the next one. She would devour and devour with no regard paid for maintaining the world's balance and, in doing so, make herself ruler of the dining table. Elisabeth gave her tongue a small click. "Ah, I see... That explains her vast reserves of mana, I suppose." "We thought she had started a war on us, but we're not the only ones who have suffered losses. The mixed-race folk are in shambles as well. Lewis's grim legacy is loose. This is no longer a rebellion." Izabella shook her head, her jewel-like eyes burning with an unmistakable fury as she laid out the horrible truth. "Alice Carroll's only goal is to destroy the world." There was a truth Elisabeth knew—a truth that Kaito Sena himself was living proof of. The "conception" possessed by those who met cruel deaths could form the basis for limitless magical growth. But what if there wasn't anything that the person in question wanted to accomplish? A hollow vessel had the power to change its shape at will. It was impossible to tell what it would give the world and what it would do. Would it love or would it hate? Would it be just or would it be evil? Lewis failed to see the implication...failed to notice the danger. As did Alice herself, for that matter. "This time, I'm going to accomplish everything I set out to do." Nobody even considered what would become of the script if that "everything" took a turn for the worse. Lewis's story of repentance, dreams, and hatred had laid the foundation. Once he was done atoning for all the people he hadn't been able to save, he dreamed of creating a perfect utopia. Just as Vlad pointed out, though, that dream was based on lies and self-deception. And on top of that, Alice was terribly young, and in the end, the innocence of her youth let her see through Lewis's smoke and mirrors. She had, in the truest sense of the word, inherited his hatred. Now she was trying to grant his most fervent wish. Love, hate, justice, and evil had nothing to do with it. Her sole aim was for everyone to die. That was all. And nothing more. Alice Carroll had broken beyond repair. Nobody could put her together again. All this was happening because Lewis had been killed. But that wasn't the whole story. The mixed-race people being killed had started it as well, as had Alice's—that was, Sara Yuuki's—brutal death. By now, they were all avengers. Everyone hated everyone. And the world kept on turning, just as properly as ever. And in that moment, a thought crossed Elisabeth's mind. A thought she couldn't afford to harbor. "...Why should Kaito have to—?" "Elisabeth." Then, out of nowhere, she heard Kaito Sena's voice. It was the voice of one who had died to save the world. And it was a voice of one she adored dearly. "Please, never come to loathe this world again. No matter what happens, never internalize sin again. You and I worked together and protected this world. Please, never think it's not worth saving." *** It was like he had read Elisabeth's mind. She gasped. She was a hair's breadth from barking out an angry reply, but she stopped herself. Kaito Sena wasn't the one who'd said that. The words were his, but they were coming from the mouth of another. The speaker's gaze was gentle, and Elisabeth saw herself reflected in the woman's ashen eyes. The Torture Princess sighed, then posed a question to the Saint. "That's his message, then?" "It is. However, there's more. And if anything, the continuation is the most important part...but it would be best delivered after the current situation is dealt with. If this goes on, many will perish. It's an act of blasphemy against the world for me to be concerned about that, I know. But the necessity remains." "Aye... 'Tis imperative those fixed batteries be destroyed." Elisabeth shook her head, then clapped her cheeks to fire herself up. The Saint replied with a small nod, clutching at her tattered cloak as she turned her focus to the batteries. Elisabeth followed her gaze. The fixed batteries were lethally impeding their ability to fight Alice, and the reincarnators were beyond saving. Granting them a swift death was their best recourse. However, Elisabeth knew it wouldn't be that simple. A young girl stood smiling before the batteries. It was Alice Carroll. The Fremd Torturchen. If they wanted to make it easier to kill her, they needed to get past her first. A contradiction among contradictions. However, this was no time to be holding back. Elisabeth snapped her fingers with a bellow. "Splendid Executioner: The Boondock Saints!" "Oh my, it's so sparkly!" Alice's reaction was as innocent as could be. She held her hands up over her head, and a light flashed from between her fingers. Slabs of metal tumbled one after another from the eddy of darkness and crimson flower petals, each a massive blade designed to assemble into a grand executioner. As the metal purposefully wove itself together, it headed for the fixed batteries and obliterated them—or rather, it tried to. However, the parts were struck before they could fall into place, and the hard metal shattered in midair. The pieces shifted back into crimson flower petals and splayed out like splashes of blood. But it wasn't a bombardment that had felled them. It was a lance strike. "My White Knight." Before Elisabeth's eyes, Alice was sitting astride a knight's horse. She was the very image of a fairy-tale princess. The knight guarding his young liege was picturesque as well, clad as he was in his pure-white armor. He glared down at everything that entered his gaze as he raised his helmet's visor. There was no emotion in his eyes, but his features bore a striking resemblance to the human half of Lewis's face. It had taken but a single strike from his lance to shatter the Executioner before it could finish forming. Alice chuckled. "Say, did you know? In the strange, strange world of Through the Looking-Glass, the White Knight is the only one who fights for Alice's sake from the very beginning. I would've liked for Father to get a chance to read Alice's wondrous stories. But now he can't. And he never will." Midway through, her voice took on a cold harshness. She stopped swaying her legs back and forth. As though reacting to his master's displeasure, the White Knight raised his lance aloft. Elisabeth immediately sensed the danger she was in. She mentally splayed out her hand, and the Torture Princess selected the appropriate card. "La Guillotine, Saint of Beheadings!" "And that's why it's time for me to get serious," Alice declared with a vacant look in her eyes. Elisabeth cast her spell. Six black-and-crimson swirls materialized in front of the Saint's briar wall. At the moment, that was the most Elisabeth was capable of deploying at once. A white doll burst out from each of them and landed heavy on the ground. They were white maidens, each made to embody the holiest of saints. Upon seeing them, the bona fide Saint narrowed her ashen eyes a smidgen. Before her, the maidens raised their heads. Their straight-cut silver hair swayed briskly. Without a moment's delay, Elisabeth clicked her heels. The maidens crossed their pale arms atop their chests, then spread them wide. Rectangular blades shot loudly from their elbows. The Knight gave his lance a mighty swing, and a fierce shock wave slammed into the blades. The first pair shattered, the second pair split, the third pair burst, the fourth pair split, and the fifth pair twisted. Only the sixth pair made it to Alice. "Too bad, so sad." Alice smiled and gave the blades a little poke. They crumbled into chunks, spilling down atop Alice's knees and bursting into crimson petals as they landed on her blue dress's skirt. Meanwhile, La Guillotines fell victim to the lance's aftershock as well. Their heads came off, their torsos contorted, and their limbs were shredded to ribbons. The maidens collapsed. Elisabeth fought to quell her panic, then let out a low murmur. "No match, huh? I see she's been eating well." This was no longer the same Alice Carroll as before. No more was she Alice, Lewis's beloved daughter. What was she, then? She was nothing and no one. Alice's white hair bobbed as she recited lines as though to introduce herself. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! ...Hee-hee, just kidding." She blinked her red eyes and smiled. A thought crossed Elisabeth's mind. What was Alice now? If she were forced to do the impossible and define her... ...then 'twould be "something that ought not to exist in this world." This was the result of an alien reincarnator having fulfilled a narrow set of conditions. She may not have been on Kaito Sena's level, but all the same, the world wasn't built to contain one such as she. The Saint's voice was dispassionate and barely louder than a whisper. "Well, this is a problem. The longer we remain at this standstill, the more people will perish, and the worse the situation will become." There was no sign of fear in her gaze, but her gray eyes wavered ever so slightly. Elisabeth nodded in agreement. The destruction was spreading, and Alice was only going to amass more mana as she claimed more victims. At the moment, though, the biggest problem was their current position. The thing was, they were standing before the temporary royal castle. It was the most strategically important location humanity had. The saints' greatest forces—La Mules, La Christoph—are already dead. And Vlad is no more. That leaves me, Izabella...and Jeanne de Rais, who's doubtless observing from some vantage point. If the three of us fall...mankind will be left without a path to victory. Elisabeth furrowed her brow as she thought. They had countless pieces at their disposal, but only a few assets with any real strength to them. The vast majority of their pieces were all but useless. It was the same reason why Kaito Sena had had to become the Mad King, way back when. Elisabeth could tell by that point, the plan to apprehend Alice and forcibly transfer Diablo to her was a pipe dream. The situation as it stood was that if they failed to kill her here and now, and instead fell in the process, humanity would not survive. Then there was the matter of those who felt the need to move about freely despite their complete and utter uselessness. "Lady Saint! We never expected to find Your Holiness in a place like this!" "What are you all doing out here?!" Izabella barked at the paladins. "Get back underground and protect the king!" "But—!" Despite her sharp rebuke, that was one order they were loath to follow, even coming from their esteemed commander. The small group had successfully made their way to the Saint unharmed. In all likelihood, Alice had spared them because she found them amusing. "But we have to help the Saint!" they argued back at Izabella. All emotion vanished from the Saint's ashen eyes, and she responded to their pleas in a voice void of warmth. "Did you people not hear of my loathing? I never loved you, and even now your faith is nothing more than a nuisance to me. Nearly all the tales your Church shared of me were rooted in mistakes and

errors. Yet you say you love me still, knowing that love to be folly? Are you people truly that incorrigible?" "Absolutely!" The Saint's cynical, reproachful question was met with a resolute reply. Her mouth hung half-open in exasperation. However, the paladins were undeterred. They puffed up their chests in simple pride. "We know full well how many lies there were, and the Church's influence is nothing compared to its splendid days of yore. But even so, you were the one who made the world. That means that everything good in it came about because of you. What cause do we have, then, to lose our respect for you?! Our hearts are unchanging, Your Holiness! The Church may have been incorrect, but it was never errant. So, as such!" They thumped their large shields against the ground in succession. The shields were finely crafted, with blessings from priests carved into their very surfaces, and they offered a high degree of protection against dark magic. Sadly, though, against Alice, they might as well have been made of paper. However, they positioned themselves in front of the Saint in an attempt to defend her all the same. The fools went on. "We paladins believe in your suffering! You may have once hated us, but you still shouldered pain on behalf of ignorant wretches like us. That truth is noble in and of itself." "Ah... True enough." The Saint bit her lip and clenched her fists. A sort of difficult-to-describe passion crossed her expression for the first time. Elisabeth was well aware of the anguish the Saint had been through. Flocks of sheep were, fundamentally, stupid. And that was the way things ought to be. But was that ignorance not truly a sin? That fact—that hatred—had been an obsession for the Saint. Now her entire body was trembling. Alice, who'd been watching everything play out, called over to them. "Are you done with story time now? In that case, I think it's time for everyone's insides to become outsides!" Alice rested her cheek softly against the Knight's back, and the Knight responded by raising his lance up high. Then he pointed it at the paladins. "If any deserve to have stones cast at them, if any deserve to be whipped, it is I." The Saint stepped forward. She moved as calmly as if she were walking on water, and as she did, she began shedding tears of blood from one eye. It's time for a story. A tale from long, long ago. Once upon a time, a preeminent genius was born in a world where war waged without end. Once she grew up, she realized that the cycle of violence and hatred was fruitless. Humanity, beastfolk, and demi-humans were all equal. Every living creature was ignorant, and every living creature was like a stupid animal. That was why she had to save them. After steadying her resolve to bring about salvation, she got to work. But she screwed up the method about as badly as she could have. And so, with a pop the world broke. Because of that, she had to carry out an atonement. But at the same time, she found herself struck by a particular question. She had tried to save the world. Yet for the rest of eternity, no one would ever consider what she had truly felt. They would hear only what they wanted to hear, see only what they wanted to see. Flocks of sheep were, fundamentally, stupid. That was the way things ought to be. But at the end of the day, was that not truly a sin? Was it? Truly? "You were absolutely right, Mad King. All living creatures are nothing more than ignorant, stupid animals. And that's what makes them worth protecting. Despite their ignorance, there is good in them. Our present situation was brought about by a confluence of all sins, mine included. Yet even so, nobody has the right to cast all people as sinners and judge them all as deserving of death." As the Saint spoke, her briars spread outward like a wave. Ivy rose up to block the lance strike. However, over half of it ended up getting sliced to bits. The shredded briar scattered. Then roses began blooming from the torn cross sections. A wave of azure and crimson gently swallowed up the lance's shock wave, and thousands of petals went dancing brilliantly through the air. However, that came with a price. The briars coiled themselves tight around the Saint, and blood gushed from her slender frame. The paladins let out cries bordering on screams. They called over to her in a panic. "Lady Saint! Lady Saint, your body!" The Saint offered no reply to their worried shouts. She just silently held her ground and watched carefully for when the next blast would come. Then, drenched in violent red as she was, she spoke with great deliberation. "I have spent a long time thinking about atonement. It consumed my thoughts, day in and day out—as did what the Mad King said to me." As the lance strike vanished, Elisabeth leaped into action. At the moment, it was essential she buy time. She let out a small murmur. "Honey Candy." Honey began streaming down Alice's neck. Lilies had manifested in the air, and the golden liquid was spilling out from them. Next, a swarm of ants climbed up the glistening wave. They started gnawing on the honey and the arteries that sat beneath it. "Ack! What's going on?! This is nasty!" Based on Alice's screams, it would seem she was still vulnerable to physiological disgust. The plan was absurd, but it had worked nonetheless. Meanwhile, the Saint unraveled her briars for a time. She collapsed backward, like the strings holding her up had just been cut. The paladins rushed over to her. However, Izabella got to her first and propped up the Saint's gaunt back as she spoke. "Lady Saint, please don't do anything rash. If you hold still, I can get you healed—" "'You just chose to be alone, that's all.' That's what he said to me. And he was right." The Saint didn't respond to her offer. Izabella said nothing to that, instead choosing to quickly cast some basic healing magic on her. As she did, the Saint continued her vacant murmuring. It was like she was giving a confession. "I went on a journey, and I saw that with my own eyes. Trade was bustling; the child did his job well. There were many who recognized this tattered cloak. He was called Butcher, he was loved, and he lived a good life, yet he never abandoned his task or forsook me. How, then, am I to repay him after I abandoned him so?" Elisabeth bit her lip. As she'd suspected, the Saint's outfit and its resemblance to the Butcher's had been an intentional choice on her part. Now, at long last, the Saint realized what it was she had lost. However, Elisabeth could think of nothing to say to her. The Butcher was dead. Regretting that now was an act of gross arrogance. Death closed all doors. Nothing she did would ever be able to reach him. Then the sound of burning fire filled their ears. It was accompanied by an adorable singsong voice. "Goodness me, it's hot. Or should I say that it hurts, I wonder?" Elisabeth's eyes went wide. Of all the ways Alice could have dealt with the ants, she had chosen to light herself on fire. The flames consumed her white hair, charring her skin as it bubbled and burst. Elisabeth surreptitiously shot a volley of stakes at her, but those went up in flames as well. However, all of Alice's burns healed right up. A moment later, her auto-immolated skin was as pristine and unscarred as if nothing had happened. Izabella, somewhat shocked by the rapid back-and-forth, let out a whisper. "Madam Elisabeth, would you be able to make another opening? She appears to still have some human sensation left in her. I was able to cut her arm, so if Jeanne and I aim for her neck this time—" "Best not. Even if you lopped her head clean off, she would merely sew it back on. Gouging out her heart might get us somewhere, but anything short of that, even piercing it through, would be as useless as beheading her. Her regenerative capabilities are unfathomable—much as Kaito's were at the end, when he reached the point of no longer needing a heart." "Then what would you suggest? I find it difficult to imagine us ever finding an opening that big," Izabella replied in consternation. Elisabeth focused her crimson gaze on Alice's innocent figure. As she tried to gauge Alice's mana reserves and current capabilities, she thought through her options. Bull of Phalaris, Pied Piper of Hamelin... No, it's no use. It would take her little effort to overcome whatever I threw at her, even with ostentatious techniques such as those. The time they would buy isn't worth the mana they would cost me. But this chance we have now... We may not get another... Unlike Kaito Sena, Alice was still ostensibly mortal. All they needed to do was outpace her incredible regeneration, and that would be that. However, Elisabeth had no idea how they were supposed to accomplish that. Alice's current strength was second only to the Mad King's. Amid that air of frigid tension, the Saint moved once more. She pushed Izabella back and rose unsteadily to her feet. Then she spread her arms out and, without hesitation, stepped forward. "Shouldering everything is a sad, lonely lot. And thus—" A trio of lances struck her briars. Even more blood gushed from the Saint's body. The paladins cried out again, shouting "Lady Saint!" like children calling out for their mother. A few of them even rushed forward, upon which the Saint grabbed them with her vines and dragged them back. That was when Elisabeth realized that the Saint's feet were no longer touching the ground. The briars were wound tighter around her than ever before, and their vines were holding her up and anchoring her in the air. It was like looking at a crucifixion. The Saint went on, her voice practically a hymn. "—I will act on behalf of that which I hated, that which I discarded, that which I tried to destroy—and that which the child loved." Blood trickled down through her messy black hair. She didn't scream or cry, and there was nothing reflected in her ashen eyes but void. She stared forward, searching for someone that was no longer there. And in that moment, though she didn't know why, Elisabeth found herself reminded of some very sad words. Through her tears, she spoke. "Thank you for being born unto me," she said. That was all. And that was enough. I had fun. Madam Elisabeth, Mr. Dim-Witted Servant, Ms. Lovely Maid, really, truly, and deeply. And finally, thank you so much for your many years of patronage. Elisabeth felt as though she saw a cloak-clad figure waving off in the distance. She shouted at the top of her lungs. "This isn't the way, Saint! The Butcher would never have wanted you to sacrifice yourself in atonement!" "I imagine you're right. That's why I'm not doing this as the Saint. This is my story." By then the Saint was already high in the air. Red drops dripped from her feet. The paladins let out voiceless screams. They dropped—practically crumpled—to their knees and began fervently praying. The only one who remained standing was Izabella, who clenched her fists tight like she was forcing herself to endure. The Saint didn't mock the paladins for their incorrigible display. She simply spoke, there at the center of their prayers, as a single, lone individual. "This is my tale of repentance, dreams, and hatred." Determination's light glowed in her expression, and a hitherto unseen strength peeked out from her red eyes. Elisabeth realized something as

she saw her face. Long ago, when a solitary genius destroyed the world, atoned, and hated, she probably wore the exact same expression. "Let me tell you something about me, Elisabeth. I was powerless to do anything. Yet for the longest, longest time, I only wanted one single thing—I wanted to protect the world. I can't believe it took me so long to remember, but...I once...had a dream." Droplets of blood, too many of them to count, rained down from her body. A change began taking place in the ground. Briars began growing from the bloodstains, like the earth itself had just received mana from the heavens. They grew at a shocking rate, faster than they ever had before. Roses bloomed all over. Petals fell from the sky, painting a pattern of azure and crimson roses onto everything they touched. The wind carried them, and the magic propagated. After spreading outward without end, they began glowing. The lines spread all across the Capital, and at the center of them all, Alice's childish face contorted. "What is this? Why, I don't even know. I can't decipher the pattern, no matter how hard I look. What's...going on?" "My technical command is still unparalleled, if nothing else. I lost most of my mana when I transferred God and Diablo out of my body. I suppose I only have myself to blame. Now I find myself in a state where I can be forced to yield in the face of overwhelming violence. For now, though, I ask that you accompany me, O ye who would replace me as the enemy of the world," the Saint intoned. The cold, rational part of Elisabeth finally realized something—there was no need to actually stop her. During the battle, the Saint had determined that she couldn't hold out for long, and so she'd made her choice. And part of that choice had involved using a once-in-a-lifetime technique to draw the largest teleportation circle anyone had ever seen. Roses rained down from the heavens, and countless petals danced through the air in celebration. It made for an extravagant, gorgeous sight. It was like they were trying to paint a beautiful painting atop a canvas with nothing on it. Their painting had nothing but beauty, but oh, how beautiful it was. "What was your real name, Saint?!" Seized by impulse, Elisabeth shouted. This was her last chance. She needed to know. Just as the Mad King was Kaito Sena, so too must she have had a name. Whether or not ignorance was a sin, it was certainly at least sad. Elisabeth couldn't let things end without anyone having ever heard it. A look of mute shock crossed the Saint's face. A few seconds later, her expression softened for the first time. And then she merely shook her head. She murmured gently. "I never gave him a name." And so it's fine. This is right. "What could possibly be right about that?!" Elisabeth screamed. Long ago, Kaito Sena had once expressed a similar sentiment about the Butcher's decision. However, the Saint stubbornly refused to give them her name. She only opened her mouth a single time more. And from her soft lips, the True Message came. Elisabeth's eyes went wide. However, she didn't have time to reply. The petals' dance grew into a storm, and the light flashed. It wasn't just in the plaza there—everyone attacking the Capital got sucked in. The Saint's smile faded from view, as did the tears running down her cheeks. She was losing the last vestiges of her human expression. And there, at the very end, she murmured as though she could hear something. "You're right... I had fun, too... And so..." Thank you so much for being born unto me. And as she spoke to the empty air, the Saint vanished and took Alice with her. To fight on her own, and to die alone. "That didn't...just happen, right? Lady Saint... Lady Saint!" "We just bore witness to a miracle. For what would you call that, if not a miracle?!" The various paladins' shouts echoed through the space where their foe no longer was. As they clamored, they stared straight ahead. Alice and the fixed batteries were still alive. The Saint was going to die by their hands. That was a certainty. However, that meant that the Capital—and the world—would survive for that much longer. On top of that, the scene before them was well deserving of being called a miracle. It wasn't clear how it worked, but even now that the light had died out, the briars still remained. Their vines were wound in intricate patterns, and they stretched into the sky in the shape of a cross. And what's more, the entire sublime fixture was still covered in azure and crimson flower petals. Each time the wind blew, it filled the air with a dancing cloud of colors. As the petals landed among her raven locks, Elisabeth had a thought. True enough. This is a miracle. In the end, the sinner who tried to save the world, that solitary genius, powerless to do anything, had brought about the impossible. 2 Chaos Returns Long ago, the Saint thought once more in that blank, white world. Why had she tried to save them all? Given how things had turned out, it couldn't be described as anything other than a flight of fancy driven by a serious case of arrogance and conceit. A fatal mistake, one brought about by the sense of omnipotence that accompanied the possession of great power. Yet in her heart of hearts, she couldn't bring herself to consider what she had tried to do as worthy of scorn or rebuke. It had been clear as day that if she hadn't done anything, the world would have fallen into ruin. And it was just as evident that, even knowing that fact, nobody else had tried to act. That was why she had fought on her own for so long. To save them all. However, she had been assailed by profound regrets. After all, what had she been left with after salvation had been carried out? In the end, what of hers, what of anyone's had she been able to save? Nothing. Nothing at all. Just like when she was young, she hadn't been able to save anything. But this, this now—this was different. It was an inelegant conclusion, to be sure. And it had come far too late. People might well point fingers and laugh at her. But that was fine. She had finally regained that which she had forgotten. And she had managed to salvage one thing from that long, long suffering and those many, many failures. She had protected that which the child she abandoned loved. In the end, perhaps she merely wanted someone to say it to her. Perhaps she wanted to think it about herself. Thank you so much for being born. At long last, the solitary genius realized that, and in doing so, the Saint finished carrying her burden. That, and that alone, was enough to give meaning to her entire tragedy—her entire farce. "And I lived happily ever after." A new miracle had taken place, and the Capital was saved. However, things were far from over. All those who hadn't borne witness wanted to know the truth. What had just happened exactly? And just what kind of peril was confronting the world? It was imperative that they explain the events to the young king Maclaeus Filliana. Powerful people were going to come to him looking for answers. The Church, in particular, was going to be abuzz like a poked beehive. It made sense, after all. The Saint had sacrificed herself and gone willingly to her death. It wasn't hard to imagine how people would react to something like that. Elisabeth knew all that, but she chose to neglect her reporting duties regardless. The Saint may have completely stopped her in her tracks, but the time that buys us is limited. 'Twould make for a fine joke if I were to spend that time all tied up alongside Izabella. The Saint had turned her life into a precious hourglass. There were a million things they needed to do while the Saint held Alice at bay at their teleportation destination, and their sand was running out. Elisabeth started out by having Izabella give her info on all the towns and villages she'd gotten distress calls from. Then she left the plaza, which was still astir regarding the miracle, and put down the remaining demon grandchildren and fixed batteries as fast as she could. With their foes in disarray, now was their best chance to thin their ranks and cut off the accumulation of pain at the source. As she did, she sent out a message. I presume the Saint is fighting Alice and her company at the spot where she herself was sealed away—the abyss in the World's End. The question becomes, then, how should we—how can we—spend this time she's bought us? Elisabeth looked at the ceiling as she sank into thought. It was adorned with living flowers. After teleporting and teleporting and teleporting some more, she had ultimately made her way to a darkened manor. Its long hallways were coated in a thin layer of dust. She leaned clandestinely against the white wall. Then she silently watched the flowers daintily sway as she waited for her message's recipients to reply. Suddenly, though, she heard a laugh that sounded almost human boom from close by. She cast her gaze in the corresponding direction, then scoffed as she spotted a particularly dense patch of darkness. "Hello, Kaiser. And what exactly have you been doing all this time? Lazing about, no doubt." "What an insolent tongue you have, foolish child. Would you like me to make offal of it? Perhaps I should just crush your skull between my jaws," the Kaiser replied. He revealed himself from the darkness and melted into view. He was a black dog the size of a small cow, and he flashed his jagged fangs. Elisabeth, wholly undaunted, just gave him another scoff. "Ha. If you wish to try me, then by all means, do so. Unlike your former contractor Kaito, you'll find me a good deal harder to gobble down—as you're well aware. Now, I ask you again. What is it you've been doing?" "The stage wasn't suitable for me, is all. A more fitting moment is yet to come. So to kill time, I was simply watching people suffer. You know, like going out to watch a show." Geh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh, fu-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh, geh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh. The Kaiser laughed, his voice shrill and cacophonous. Elisabeth shrugged. In truth, her comments had been toothless. She knew full well that the Kaiser's presence wouldn't have been enough to tip the scales. He could have forced Alice into a war of attrition like the Saint did, and perhaps he would have done an even better job than she had. However, it was as he said. Doing so would have taken him off the board for good. And besides, no mere human could give orders to the Kaiser and expect him to follow them anyhow. As yet, 'tis still unclear who his contractor is, and his aims are just as opaque. Elisabeth stared intently at the Kaiser's sable frame. She was on the verge of asking him the answers to those questions, but he spoke first, cutting her off as though to say he couldn't be bothered explaining himself. "I have a question for you, foolish child." "And what might that be? I must say, I never took you for the inquisitive type." "It's true. I'm not, by nature, but something about the situation piqued my curiosity." The black dog slapped the ground lightly with his sleek tail. The hellfire in his eyes flickered. Looking at him, he seemed like one who had transcended mortal understanding, yet the words the supreme hound spoke next had a shockingly human feel to them. "The Accumulation

of Seventeen Years' Pain and the Saint both said some nonsense about this place being worth protecting. But this whole situation was caused by the discrepancies, oppression, and sorrow brought about by the living themselves. Even if you succeed in protecting the world, the grudges caused by those wounds will still fester. Destruction will continue to lurk just around the corner. Knowing that, do you truly believe that enough righteous ones will be born to overturn all that?" "Nay. Not in the slightest," Elisabeth declared without missing a beat. The Kaiser squinted at her in surprise. In Elisabeth's eyes, though, it was the only answer she could have given. The Saint may have been naive, but not her. No, the Torture Princess knew. She knew that ignorance was a sin. She knew that the weak could commit horrendous acts without batting an eye. And she knew that even if they succeeded in saving the world, that as long as God and Diablo existed, it could fall back into ruin at a moment's notice. Yet even so... She went on, dignified and true. "But I leave it in their hands regardless. As a sinner, I'm hardly in any place to lay bare the wickedness of the living and write them off as being fit solely for the grave. I've an obligation to keep the thread together, that others may yet try spinning it." Elisabeth had long since found her resolve, and it was still just as unwavering. Those who owe their lives to another have a duty to fight. Watching the Saint make her choice had made Elisabeth sure of that. She didn't have time to waste falling into despair over everything that was wrong and broken. She owed her life to Kaito Sena. His love had saved her. That meant that all of this, everything that was happening and everything that was going to happen, was her story. Averting her eyes and passing the buck wasn't an option. "'Twas my choice to make, and I chose to see this fight through to its end." "Hmph. Playing the part of the peerless dunce, I see. Well, so be it. Will you be able to emulate that fool whose twisted mind remained clear to the end? Or will you drown in your hypocrisy and die? I look forward to... Hmm? Ah, they're here. Well, I have no patience for squeaky little mice." With that, the Kaiser vanished. Elisabeth, now alone again, looked up. She had told them that a message alone would suffice, but in spite of that, a teleportation circle was etching itself onto the ground before her eyes. It wasn't quite the same as the sort humans employed. Fire ran across it first, after which a cloud of red and white sand swirled up from its center. The two hues filled her view like a sand painting. Eventually, they hardened into a wall, cracked, and crumbled. When they did, a dozen-odd beastfolk stood before her. The copper-furred wolf standing at their center looked up. He gave her a courteous bow. "Captain Elisabeth, the entire Peace Brigade is reporting for duty!" They were Elisabeth's soldiers, her subordinates from the land of the beastfolk. "I appreciate you coming all the way out to this fateful manor," Elisabeth said. "As I suspected, the place is deserted. 'Tis the perfect spot for a clandestine meeting." The beastfolk nodded. Asking them to come there of all places was in poor taste, to be sure, but given that she had a proper reason, none of them voiced any complaints. Elisabeth stepped forward from the wall she'd been leaning against. In truth, it was no wall at all. It was the entrance to a room, packed tight with pale-silver ivy. The vines were cold, firm, and soft, like a corpse that was just coming out of rigor mortis. It reminded her of a graveyard. And that was exactly what it was. They were in Vyade Ula Forstlast's primary residence. And they were standing before the throne room—the room she'd died in. After her self-inflicted death, Alice and Lewis made their escape by destroying a nearby wall. However, the room's actual entrance was pristine and untouched. That was where Elisabeth had awaited Lute's response. However, he and the rest of her men had foregone the use of a communication device and chosen to answer in person. Even though she'd conveyed her location to them, this was a turn of events she hadn't foreseen. Knowing what it likely implied, Elisabeth broke the ice. She repeated the questions she had asked them in her missive. "How fares the situation in the beastfolk lands? How is Vyadryavka? What states are the Three Kings of the Forest in?" After Vyadryavka Ula Forstlast's appeal to the Three Kings and their march on the hidden demi-human pureblood village, the Sand Queen's awakening had dealt the beastfolk a harsh blow. Elisabeth didn't have a great picture of how things had gone down for them after that. Her soldiers exchanged looks with each other. Then three representatives from their ranks—one with a fox head, one with a dog head, and one with a bull head—stood at attention side by side. The three of them answered her questions. "To be blunt, Captain, the situation isn't pretty. The surviving members of the imperial family are divided, and the people's spirits are wearing thin. And Lord Vyadryavka Ula Forstlast is in similar straits. The Three Kings of the Forest made their choice, so there were initially talks about letting him off the hook, but now..." "For now, he's being monitored and held under temporary house arrest. It's hard for us to say what will become of him." "As for the Three Kings of the Forest, they've suffered grievous wounds and are having difficulty even moving. There are many who fear the Sand Queen will strike again, and it's given rise to a level of unrest our nation has never seen. There are some who want us to go on the offensive so we can avenge the Three Kings of the Forest, and others who even want us to offer the demi-humans our unconditional surrender." "Not even the honorable beastfolk are immune, then? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but...all that would accomplish is to delay their inevitable ruin." Elisabeth sighed. There was a faint glimmer of grief in her eyes. No matter the nation, the masses were always like a single sprawling ruler. The things they thought and said had profound effects on the rest of the board. For how could they not? And the thing that always shook them most was their fear of death. Nobody wanted to die. And sometimes, that meant they were willing to sacrifice anything. The situation was just as unstable as she'd feared. Her sheep-headed subordinate was the next to speak up, his voice restless. "We serve the Torture Princess, Madam Elisabeth Le Fanu. We're not ashamed of that. However, the members of Lady Valisisa Ula Forstlast's private army have been asking a lot of questions about the immoderate support we've been giving mankind and the search we conducted for Satisbarina's son. Up until now, we've been standing fast at the World Tree to defend the Three Kings of the Forest, but when you sent your message, we came as fast as we could. Captain...what do you think's going to become of the beastfolk? What will become of the world?" "On that front, I have news both good and bad." Elisabeth raised two fingers. She had no intention of letting the question linger, so she went ahead and revealed both pieces of information without giving her men so much as time to brace themselves. "The situation has changed. Due to the Fremd Torturchen Alice Carroll awakening and going on a rampage, the world once more finds itself faced with obliteration. On the other hand, in all likelihood, the demi-humans and mixed-race folk are no longer our foes." The declarations sent a stir through her subordinates' ranks. They flashed confused gazes at each other. It was a natural reaction. Just a single day prior, they and the demi-humans and mixed-race folk had been trying to kill each other. And what's more, Alice had originally been on the mixed-race people's side. However, Elisabeth was sure of her statement on all counts. With Lewis dead, Alice feels she has no place to go back to. Her father was the only thing she held any real attachment to. And besides, the mixed-race folk would never have allowed her to use the weapons Lewis crafted in the manner she did. It holds, then, that they never gave her their leave. Yet she's using them all the same. There was a story there, and one that Elisabeth suspected involved bloodshed. The Fremd Torturchen had done something to her own allies and given her declaration about it being time for "everyone to die together," Elisabeth suspected that the first ones she had made sacrifices of were the mixed-race folk themselves. That, and any demi-humans who happened to be present. A truly pure heart made no exceptions. Sometimes, innocence could be the most horrifying thing imaginable. Elisabeth went on. "We have to act now, while Alice is out of the picture. We need the Sand Queen on our side. The time for pleasant infighting has passed. By the sound of it, though, the beastfolk are in no state to negotiate. As such..." Elisabeth paused for a moment. She took a deep breath. Whether or not the deed was possible was yet to be seen. However, an attempt had to be made. And with the Saint gone, the task fell to her replacement. When Elisabeth continued, she made sure her conviction rang in every word. "...I shall go and persuade the demi-humans and mixed-race folk." A new herald of the end had appeared, and the arrival of a common enemy made for the perfect opportunity to negotiate a cease-fire. It was craven, in a sense, and comical to boot, but that was just how the world worked. Even in the midst of abject chaos, Elisabeth was still keeping tabs on her foes. For one, she knew that the mixed-race folk were still using the hidden demi-human village as their base of operations. It still had the Sand Queen's protection, after all, so there was little need for them to pack up their bags and leave. After fleeing from their historic rout, the other races had yet to so much as approach the settlement again. That said, Elisabeth knew where it was, so as long as she wasn't afraid of getting attacked the moment she landed, she could still at least get there. She chose to gamble on them having fallen too deep into disarray to intercept her. However, nothing could have prepared her for what she found there. It was an entirely different sort of hell than it had been when she last left. "How could something like this even happen?" "Who would have thought that the Sand Queen would—" The Peace Brigade members' voices were tinged with fear. Elisabeth had tried to stop them, but they had accompanied her to the desert regardless. Not even her warning that "the battle that lies beyond will transcend mortal comprehension" had been enough to get them to back down. As far as Lute and the others were concerned, the scariest thing of all was the prospect of not being able to help. Now, though, they simply stood in blank shock. The hidden village was located in the Dragons' Graveyard. It was covered in its entirety in bones, and an overlarge dragon skull had been left to serve as its front gate. At the moment, though, there was a new colossus collapsed in front of it. The sloping semicircle its frame formed atop the ground was like looking at a hill made of sand. Its hardened scales were cracked, exposing the strangely elastic flesh beneath. Dark blood was pooled around it on the sand like

oil. It was as though a black circle had been cut directly out of the desert. Meanwhile, the head was marred by a peculiar-looking scar. It looked like it had been opened wide up, then closed again. Elisabeth stood motionless before the grisly spectacle. She thought back to the quotes from the poem she'd once looked into. "A body unheld by death's fell claim." "A radiant form." "A glittering frame." "Adorned with reddened scales." "Like beautiful stones." "Our eternal protector." The people loved the Sand Queen. They revered her. And that was why they had made use of her corpse. They had forced it back into motion, and this was the result of their efforts. The Sand Queen lay before Elisabeth and her men, now dead twice over. "Or to be more precise, her magical reactor was destroyed with great precision," Elisabeth amended her thought as she looked at the corpse's chest. It was a mystery what had caused the head wound. Whatever killed the Queen, though, it must have been a single blow. Not even Alice would have survived a protracted clash with her. Elisabeth shook her sand-battered hair off her shoulders and gave a small nod. "Lewis was the one who aided the demi-humans in their engineering efforts to analyze the Sand Queen's corpse. Alice would have been with him, so it stands to reason that she would know the Sand Queen's weak spots. If she caught the Queen by surprise, a carefully placed lance strike from that White Knight of hers could well have gotten the job done. That said, the wound on the head is closed up. Did she fail to down the Sand Queen with her initial strike, then?" Elisabeth tried approaching the corpse, but she quickly stopped in her tracks. Thousands of little bubbles were floating on the black blood's surface. She tried popping one with the tip of her toe, and her shoe melted a little. It wasn't hard to imagine what would have happened if she'd set foot in it. Lute shook his head, then cautioned her. "Best not to, I think. Even if we got close, the Sand Queen's body is too much for us to handle." "Aye, true enough. Without appropriate tools of some sophistication, we've little chance of gleaning anything of note from her." Elisabeth frowned as she let out a sigh. The magical devices she was capable of summoning were first-rate, but they only served the purpose of torturing people. And besides, even understanding the Sand Queen's corpse was easier said than done. She was like the Three Kings of the Forest. No matter how long you looked at her, keeping a coherent mental image of her in her entirety was nigh impossible. Her springy flesh, her chipped, jewel-like scales, the grim cut across her head, and her claws submerged in the lake of blood were all perfectly comprehensible on their own. However, it was impossible to picture them as a whole. Furthermore, the corpse's expression was unseeable. It was anyone's guess as to whether her second rest was a peaceful one. That said, the fact of the matter was that she was dead. Even pondering such a question was an act of pointless sentimentality. The question is, what are those who yet remain doing? With the Sand Queen dead, the hidden village was back to being as good as defenseless. To lose her was to lose their shield and their sword at the same time. Yet despite the emergency it was facing, the settlement was dead quiet. The horrors within must have been far beyond Elisabeth's expectations. However, even realizing that wasn't enough to shake her. She spoke succinctly. "Let's go." "We're right there with you, ma'am," Lute replied. However, Elisabeth didn't so much as cast a glance his way before setting off. The decision to follow her or not was theirs to make. She threw the dragon skull's mouth open. Then she walked straight forward. Her men wordlessly came along after her. And with that, they went in. Into the chaos that awaited them—into Wonderland. There were corpses. There were corpses. There were bodies. There were remains. There were carcasses. There were corpses melted like butter, corpses sprinkled with pepper, corpses seated for a tea party, corpses with their heads cut off, corpses drowned in a sea of tears, corpses packed into buildings, corpses that had fallen off walls. The sheer number of bodies was almost comical. Demi-humans and mixed-race people alike had been killed without distinction. The mixed-race people suffered heavy casualties during the Three Kings' invasion, but none of those victims had been made into macabre displays like this. By Elisabeth's estimation, these ones had been picked off soon after their victory. The desert had no shortage of places where one could cremate and store bodies. However, all of these had simply been left out in the open. The bodies sat splayed out like they were nothing more than objects. Strangely, though, each one had been offered a tiny display of mercy. Someone had gone and placed a blue flower atop each and every one of them. A tiny prayer, perhaps, for the dead. And that was the scariest part of all. "It can't be... Did any of them survive?" Elisabeth shook her head. "I know not. Many fled, I imagine. That said, I've yet to find any survivors." Lute's tail curled up. He had known that before even asking, but he simply didn't want to believe his own eyes. Alice was acting completely within expectations. However, that didn't make what she'd done any less deranged. The two of them arrived at a section of the settlement that had avoided getting hit by the fire during the Three Kings' attack. However, everyone they passed was still dead. And it wasn't just the main residences, either. Even the underground bunkers that the human-beastfolk army missed during the battle had been cracked wide open, and the people who'd fled there for shelter had been butchered as well. It reminded Elisabeth of her birthplace. Those who lived surrounded by walls made for perfect fodder, and it was in just such a town that Elisabeth had once gorged herself on pain. Although the people here had been given much quicker paths to death, what they'd been subjected to was much the same thing. It was a sin of the most depraved sort. Loathsome Elisabeth, repulsive Elisabeth! Cruel, hideous Elisabeth! Those old, familiar cries of hatred sounded deep in Elisabeth's eardrums. Here, though, there was no one to even scream. At the same time, she was reminded of a woman. Namely, she was reminded of a lizard-headed noblewoman—Aguina's wife, Satisbarina Elephabred. When she gave Elisabeth the settlement's location, she made Elisabeth make her a promise. Elisabeth could still remember exactly what she'd said to her. "Those who boast of knowing love cannot well make light of the love of others. Such is the oath I demand of you." "When you find my son and his wife, I ask that you vow not to forsake them." "I cannot...will not allow harm to come to them." How would she lament if she saw this grim spectacle, I wonder? Elisabeth shook her head. A slight shadow came over her expression, but speaking as the Torture Princess, the total annihilation here was actually a decent outcome for them. With the Sand Queen gone, there was little value to be found in reconciling with the demi-humans and mixed-race folk. This way, there was one less thing she needed to worry about. That said, Elisabeth's instincts were as sharp as a knife, and they were telling her a different story. Something seems amiss... Can I really write this off so simply? She cast her crimson gaze downward and sank into thought. As she did, her dog-headed subordinate with the black-and-white-spotted fur rushed over to her and dutifully remembered to salute. When he gave his report, his tail was standing on end, and he was clearly trying to suppress the emotion in his voice. "Captain, we've finished checking the temple that was damaged in the battle, and we have good news! It has a sanctuary modeled off the one in the demi-human pureblood sector, and not only did it avoid the fire, its wards kept it intact in its entirety. There are no signs it was ever opened by force. Quick, ma'am, this way!" "Very well. Let's go." Elisabeth gave him an immediate nod. Her instincts were telling her to follow him, and follow him she did. The settlement had no palace, so it was the path to the temple instead that was dyed vermilion. Painted atop that hue, there was an intricate array of other vibrant colors. It was an illustrated depiction of the demi-humans' history. Her high heels chipped at the paint as her thoughts turned. Deep inside the demi-human Sand Temple, there was a hexagonal sanctuary adorned with gold and jewels. By the sound of it, the temple here had a similar space, though they probably enshrined holy relics there instead of the Sand Queen's corpse. Only a scant few demi-humans would have even known how to open it. The slightest pangs of hope beat in Elisabeth's and the Peace Brigade's chests as they hurried onward. Would there be survivors inside? And even if there were, would they be too scared to function? Elisabeth and the others had no way of knowing. But they hoped all the same. "Looking at this... Is there not a fair chance that those inside were annihilated as well?" The moment they got there, Elisabeth immediately feared the worst. There was a bittersweet smell wafting through the air. Alice had probably gotten bored and given up on destroying the sanctuary, but instead, she had pumped it full of poison. Getting done in by a poison they themselves had developed was an ironic way for the mixed-race people to go. In a way, though, it was also fitting. However, her black-and-white-spotted subordinate shook his head in disagreement. "There's something unnatural about how the lingering fumes are concentrated. They're thinner in the area around the sanctuary, but that's not the way air is supposed to flow. Someone inside must have taken countermeasures against the poison." "Ah, I see. Thank you for bringing it up. I lack the olfactory precision to pick up on such details. Shall we open it, then?" Elisabeth quickened her pace. The sound of their footsteps echoed off what bone pillars remained. There was still no reaction from inside the sanctuary—and that made Elisabeth and the Peace Brigade let down their guards. A harsh wham split the air. The door to the sanctuary flew open far more violently than it ever would have in peacetime, and someone rushed out like a loosed arrow. He took the object he was holding and thrust it forward. Elisabeth's wolf-headed subordinate suddenly found something hard and metal in his mouth, and the man followed up by sweeping his legs out from under him. The wolfman did a half spin, and the man planted himself squarely on the wolfman's chest. The man's movements were skillful, but more than anything, it was his weapon that impressed Elisabeth. The weapon in question was a rifle. The demi-humans were masters of metalworking, and they had already developed functional firearms. However, there were still a lot of kinks to work out before they could mass-produce them. At the moment, there were only a small number of prototypes out in the world, and they were owned solely by members of the aristocracy. In short, the comfort with which their new acquaintance was handling his rifle meant that he must have been a big deal, even among the high-grade purebloods. Elisabeth took another good look at him. The man was a male demi-human with the head of a lizard, and his slender build, golden eyes, and vermilion scales looked somehow familiar. Could it be? Is he—? "Nobody move!" the man shouted. "Not unless you want this guy to

die!" "Randgrof Elephabred! You're alive!" Elisabeth was about to say his name, but Lute beat her to the punch. Randgrof Elephabred. That was Aguina and Satisbarina's son. If beastfolk faces were difficult to tell apart, demi-humans were nigh impossible. However, it would seem their suspicions were true. Upon hearing Lute's shout, the man—Randgrof—looked up and frowned in puzzlement. "Who are you...and why do you know my name? Do we know each other?" "I can answer that," Elisabeth replied. "I come at the behest of Satisbarina Elephabred." "My mother? Why?" "She asked that I ensure your safety, and we've been searching for you since the Three Kings began their march. Now calm yourself and look around. This place is filled with corpses as far as the eye can see. Who would come to do you harm? Any foes of yours would simply depart and leave you to your lot. Know where it is you stand," she said coolly. The provocative wording was a considered choice on her part. Knowing that she was talking to Satisbarina's son, she judged it would have the desired effect. After showing a quick flash of anger, Randgrof lowered his rifle. Sure enough, rage was the fastest way to get through to him. He got up off Elisabeth's subordinate and offered him an apologetic bow. Then, having realized who the group's leader was, he came over to Elisabeth. The Torture Princess's crimson eyes narrowed. Randgrof's silken clothes were smeared with blood. Then, with a shudder, Randgrof dropped his gun. He crumpled to his knees. "Thank goodness... Thank goodness you're here. Please, I'm begging you, you have to come in. This place is sacred to our people. I would normally bar you, but now I welcome you with open arms. That was too close... A little longer, and we'd have..." "What happened? Pull yourself together. What exactly is going on in there?" Elisabeth helped Randgrof up. The man was scared stiff. However, Alice had long since left. Whatever it was he was afraid of, it wasn't her. Randgrof shook his head and continued his desperate plea. The words came out more as sobs than anything else. "Any longer and we would've started killing each other." At that, Elisabeth and her men couldn't help but exchange some glances. Despair was a funny thing. Sometimes, it robbed people of their ability to make rational decisions. Given the circumstances, though, acting rationally was hardly that important. The mixed-race people had spent many long months and years plotting their rebellion against the world. They wanted to see their wish through to fruition, even if it meant making foes out of everyone else. However, there was one important fact they overlooked. The Fremd Torturchen didn't share that fervent desire of theirs. The only thing she held was a deep-seated affection for the man who called her his daughter. Granted, she was quite fond of her other allies, but therein lay the tragedy. To Alice and Lewis both, those people they held dear were nothing more than people they felt ought to die alongside them. In Alice's eyes, killing the survivors was an act of mercy. Thus, all it took was a child's grief to shatter the mixed-race people's dearest desire. Many of them were given the "kindness" of having their lives taken. But the bigger issue, the problem now at hand was... ...what are those misfortunate enough to survive to do from here? They'd made enemies of the world, they had no homeland to return to, and if they fled, they would be doing so in disgrace. Their failure was despair-inducing in its totality. Their rebellion had brought about doom, just not in the way they'd wanted. They had repented, and they had hated, and now their dream was over. They had no more reason to live. Even that had been taken from them. All of that had led them to where they were—in the sanctuary. The mixed-race people were pushing to die by mass suicide, and naturally, the demi-humans were refusing to go quietly. Most of them had been nothing but hostages, and even the traitors among their ranks at least had a homeland that would take them back. They had no reason to play along, and so life and death were being forced to vie for supremacy in a tiny, isolated space. Whenever that happened, there could only be one outcome. People would start brutally killing one another. However, the arrival of their unexpected visitors put a temporary halt to the brewing violence. The Torture Princess followed Randgrof into the tense room, then took advantage of both sides' bewilderment to start haughtily giving out orders. Beneath the temple, there was a small room for its grave keeper. It was there that Elisabeth took Randgrof and a representative from the mixed-race people and set up a meeting. The other survivors were even farther underground, in a stone room surrounding a bed of vitreous sand. It was modeled after the Sand Queen's chamber and was similarly massive. Inside, mixed-race folk were huddled up tight with mixed-race folk, and demi-humans with demi-humans, yet even so, the chamber was packed nearly to capacity. Elisabeth commented on the head count. "Three hundred, give or take? I'm surprised to see so many." "Three hundred hid underground, and around the same number fled," the middle-aged mixed-race man replied. "Take away the demi-humans, and we make up just half that number. And you call us many? The ranks for our rebellion against the world have been whittled down to a mere handful. Although, I suppose that's a happy turn of events for you people." The man had the eyes of a human, the ears of a beastfolk, and the face of a demi-human. His cheeks were stretched taut over deep sword wounds, and he had scars from someone nearly ripping off his face. That alone was enough to get a glimpse at the depths of his despair. In spite of that, though, Elisabeth's reply was blunt. "Unashamedly so, yes. Allow me to be concise. As I see it, there's little reason for me to even negotiate here. However, it'll be one fewer thing for me to have to think about, so I call for a temporary cease-fire. I vow to place your survivors under my protection. In exchange, I ask for information on Lewis's legacy. Furthermore, I ask that you hand us custody of the living demi-humans here." When Elisabeth listed out her conditions, it earned her dubious looks from not just the mixed-race man, but from Randgrof as well. By the looks of it, he didn't understand why she'd made the request she had about the demi-humans. However, Elisabeth had had a good reason for that. If she wanted to help deescalate the situation, extending a gesture of goodwill to the demi-humans who'd never turned traitor was a good first step. Furthermore, and more importantly, there was something weighing on her mind. "Randgrof, I have a question for you. Was your father... Was Aguina off somewhere else?" "Father? No. After his betrayal, he joined up with the mixed-race folk and came here as well. That's why he left my mother a message...or at least, I hear he did. I actually saw him a few times here myself." "What became of his corpse, then?" "...Wait, you haven't seen my father's body?" Elisabeth gave Randgrof's shocked question a nod. Randgrof went on with an expression that was somewhere between relief and bewilderment. "Father didn't escape with us; he continued evacuating purebloods until the very end. I had simply assumed he passed. I was sad about it, surely, but are you telling me he survived?" "I know not. I find it hard to imagine he did, but then..." Elisabeth shook her head. It was hard to picture Aguina fleeing the settlement and simply leaving that sea of corpses behind. That said, she couldn't rightly say that she'd seen Aguina Elephabred's corpse. The death of the man who slew a saint and could well be described as an enemy of the world was, as yet, unconfirmed. Elisabeth obviously hadn't gone around to check each and every corpse, but there was something else that she was confident about. If Aguina had been staring down death, he would have made sure to leave some sort of mark on the world. However, she had seen no such thing. It begged the question, where did he go? "In any case, I have my vow with Satisbarina to uphold. You're coming with us." "Ah, um...right. I have to wonder, what exactly did my mother make you promise?" Randgrof frowned. He probably knew full well just how tough Satisbarina was. Elisabeth waited for the middle-aged man's response, but the mixed-race representative persisted in his silence. It was a good ten seconds later that he finally moved. He inclined his head, and, in the same motion, shook it. "You can do what you want with the demi-humans...but I have no information to give you." "Interesting. Stubborn to the very end, then?" "No, it's simpler than that. I just don't have anything I can tell you. I imagine Lewis already told you about the demon grandchildren, and you saw the fixed batteries for yourself. We have nothing valuable enough to bargain for our lives with. Our ambitions are broken, and our dearest wish lies dashed. This is as far as we go. There's nothing more to it." "What are you saying?" Elisabeth asked. "Consider yourselves lucky, demi-human. You get to live another day. Now take them and go. But us, our lives end here," the man said matter-of-factly. Elisabeth took a moment to stew on what he'd said. He was not speaking out of panicked desperation. He had just calmly made the decision that that was where he was going to die. She raised an eyebrow and rested her chin on her hands. "And your people are in consensus on that?" "I wouldn't expect you to understand, but our despair is not something so easily forgotten. 'Have you ever seen someone who was murdered?'" It was nonsensical, asking a question like that to the Torture Princess. However, the mixed-race representative went on like a man possessed. "'Someone who was sold off? Someone who was violated? Someone who was robbed of all their dignity? Someone who was cast into despair? Someone who was dissected while they were still alive?'" Have you ever seen someone get sacrificed and have it not weigh on their killers' consciences in the slightest? Have you ever seen someone be victimized in the name of justice and faith? I'll never forgive them. No matter who does. No matter if God himself does. No matter if even the dead do. "'I'll never forgive them, even if I'm the only one,'" the old man said, giving voice to his resentment. Elisabeth could tell that the words weren't his. That was a speech that someone else had given. The mixed-race man exhaled, then confirmed her suspicions. "That's something Lewis said once. We were all following his malice. His hatred called forth the Fremd Torturchen, and we welcomed her gladly. And you can see where it got us. There's no need for us to 'slay as many of you as we can until the day of our ultimate defeat' anymore. The girl's going to kill everyone anyway. We're all beyond help. If we went and shook hands with the very people we tried to kill just to eke out a tiny bit more life, what would that make us?" Elisabeth didn't respond to that. She simply barked an order. "Lute, go on down." Lute understood what she meant. He nodded, then left the room and headed for the stone chamber below. He directed a forceful shout out into the crowd. "If any mixed-race people want to leave with us, come this way! You have my word that no harm will come to you!" The only reply he got was dead silence. Down in the murky darkness, the air was thick with

anger and hopelessness. It told Elisabeth all over again just how deep-seated their hatred of the world was. Now that their rebellion had failed, they were turning all their destructive cravings inward. If she were Kaito Sena, Elisabeth mused, this was where she would try to talk them out of it. There was no doubt in her mind that he would have used every argument he could have to try to save the oppressed. That was just the kind of good-natured guy he was. But the Torture Princess was not him. Elisabeth casually rose to her feet, then turned around and spoke. "So be it. If you seek death, then be my guest. I can see I'm unneeded here, so I'll merely take the demi-humans and be on my way." "We're...saved? But...we're the only ones who got saved..." Randgrof's murmur dripped with guilt. However, Elisabeth ignored him. By nature, the Torture Princess was one who oppressed. She had no capacity to play the saint, and the prospect of her trying to get in good with the wounded was laughable. Elisabeth had no more attention to spare for those who resented the world. The Torture Princess began walking as she spoke. "I shan't denounce your desire to end things. Let this bring a close to your hatred and your dreams." Resentment and sorrow and rage, despair and malice and suffering, for better or for worse, they would all come to an end. In a sense, it was a sort of salvation. It was sad, no doubt. It could be spoken of as pitiable. But the fact remained that death was a way for things to end. Elisabeth couldn't deny that, and she knew that speaking of hope when there was none would be nothing more than a base act of deception. She did, however, give Randgrof a dispassionate instruction. "Leave them your gun. 'Tis a wretched sight when one tries to end their life by the blade and fails to finish the job." "Ah, right, okay. I'll leave everything we have." Randgrof hurriedly acquiesced, gathering up the valuable weapons and piling them in the corner of the room. The Peace Brigade began taking the demi-humans outside. Cries of relief began rising up all over, and the middle-aged man made sure to tell the other mixed-race people not to interfere. Elisabeth cast a single glance their way. Still no reaction. Their appearances were wildly varied, but all of them shared a common rejection of the world that lay ahead. Elisabeth left those who'd chosen death behind and set foot on the staircase. And that's when it happened. A massive reeeet rang out like the world itself was creaking. The sanctuary started shaking. Chunks of rubble rained down from above. The vitreous sand scraped against itself, making it sound as though someone was screeching. It was as if the end of days had come again. However, it was too early for Alice to be back. Elisabeth paused, perplexed at what was going on. Not a moment later, the mixed-race man's eyes went wide as he realized what was happening. He opened his mouth as wide as it would go, and his ugly scars shifted about as he cackled at the top of his lungs. His laughter echoed about like the cries of some avian portent of doom. "Oh, I see, I see, I see! You would go that far... You would take and grant even that?! Oh, you adorable girl! It's to be death, then, death, death, death! An impartial massacre that casts aside every ideal we held true!" His voice rang with considerable amusement as he kept on laughing the laugh of a man whose fraying sanity had finally snapped. As the chaos swelled, Elisabeth thought back. She thought about the awe-inspiring presence she'd felt that day. And at the same time, she heard Alice's words repeat in the depths of her memories. "I didn't move, you know. But despair did." Her voice had rung with ridicule, as though mocking those who listened for expecting anything more of the world. Off in the distance, they could hear a roar they'd heard once before. Countless voices screamed, yet they were all one and the same. Die. Die. Die. The time has come. I have found you with my eyes. The heavens and earth shall be moved, and thou shalt come to judge the world by fire. This day, day of wrath calamity and misery day of great and exceeding bitterness. This day our master is resurrected. Randgrof and Lute both moved to protect Elisabeth from the debris, but she shook them off and rushed outside. It was there that she witnessed the series of changes for herself. A rain of black blood fell, and the toxic droplets melted the sand where they landed. Scales blurred as they healed, like the crystal once had when a pair of arms had extended from it. Off in the distance, the grand titan—the one who had died, been forced to move again, then died once more—got up. It was thrice now that the Sand Queen had acted. However, something about this time was different. Her eyes swiveled, staring off restlessly in every direction. They were the eyes of one who had lost their mind. A corpse should have had no mind to lose, and that was enough for Elisabeth to discern what had changed. That's not the Sand Queen in there! Upon further reflection, it was odd how half-cocked a job Alice had done of destroying the Sand Queen. The Sand Queen was a fantastic weapon, but her mana had inherited her maternal nature toward the demi-humans. That made her a threat to Alice. However, she was still valuable as a tool of mass destruction. Simply killing her would be a waste, and that left two options: destroy her completely...or change her. What had Alice done, then? The diabolical answer to that question roused itself within Elisabeth's mind. If you wanted to modify a windup doll, all you had to do was bore a little hole, swap out the part you wanted, and fill the hole back up. And that was the exact same thing you did to a golem to implant a soul in it. The setup they used to make the Sand Queen's corpse move in the first place was similar to the way you would configure a stone golem. It stood to reason that Alice would be able to put a soul inside the Queen's body, and the mixed-race folk she had been working with would have had all the appropriate tools needed to put that idea into practice. On top of all that, Alice's "whimsical" magic had a troublingly strong affinity for "playing with dolls." It was a challenging feat, one that any mage from their world would've been hard-pressed to achieve, but Alice had done just that. By inserting a new soul into the Sand Queen's body, she had overwritten the nature of its mana. The rest was simply a matter of time. As soon as the soul became acclimated, the body would begin moving once more. It was unclear when the Sand Queen would break down, but until that moment, its rampage would continue unopposed. That, then, posed a new question. Who had Alice used? Their ego would have been an impediment, so Alice would have made sure to destroy it first, but even so, she'd have wanted to pick someone clever enough to act of their own volition. Someone capable of becoming an enemy of the world. Elisabeth stood amid the destroyed houses with her mouth agape. It was Lute, who had now caught up with her, who bellowed at the figure in the distance. Perhaps it was his bestial sharpness that had let him realize who it was. *** The man who had believed so firmly that he was just had been cruelly given up as a sacrifice. Now it was he who served as the Sand Queen's new broken mind. 3 Marching to Their Deaths Aguina Elephabred held heroes in disdain. He had loved to read when he was a boy, and that was how he had learned of the concept. In the tales he read, they always showed up at just the right moment. The vast majority of people who read the same books he did would have regarded them with admiration. But young Aguina knew. Heroes didn't exist. Nobody was going to swoop in at the last second to save them. The more he researched, the more he realized just how bleak the future of his people truly was. The demi-humans had spent their long history excluding the mixed-race folk and building a rigid caste system. At the beginning, there hadn't been any larger purpose to it. It was simply the result of the purebloods' obsession with aristocracy. Now, though, deviating from that system would spell disaster for them, and even so much as loosening it would lead to immediate repercussions. The pureblood caste would collapse, and the line that marked what it meant to be demi-human would grow blurrier and blurrier. Why, their country's very leadership might get supplanted by those whose blood had been sullied by that of other races. After all, their birth rate was declining. They might have been able to weather the losses they suffered from the demons, but the fact that humanity was multiplying like rabbits weighed heavy on them. They could hold fast to their pride, or they could perish. Those were the only choices the demi-humans had. This realization was what drove Aguina to his blood purity fanaticism. That was why he hated the concept of heroes. Whenever he heard a fairy tale, it filled his heart with scorn. He regarded them as ludicrous from the bottom of his heart. Such a person couldn't possibly exist. If there existed someone who had amended the injustices of the world, they would have seen his people's plight and helped them bridge that population gap. Ironically, the very fact that Aguina existed as a blood purist served to discredit the possibility that heroes existed. In a sense, he played the role of a villain, as his very life was the personification of how nonexistent and meaningless heroes were in the world. There were no noble crusaders or legendary champions. Or at least, there weren't supposed to be. But when the end of days came, Aguina saw a hero with his own two eyes. Sure enough, that boy pining for the peerless sinner that was the Torture Princess brought about a miracle. And Aguina witnessed a noble death, too. It was a ludicrous way to go, but the man's pure wish for a star of his own and the way his faith in God remained unshaken to the end were beautiful in their own right. Aguina Elephabred held heroes in disdain. Fools, though? Fools, he had a soft spot for. "And that, if nothing else, was why I wished I could be one." "That was all there was to it, I must confess." The Sand Queen's mind had been overwritten so that she would behave a certain way. Now there was a pitiful man inside her. Aguina had tried to protect the purebloods in the hidden settlement. Now, though, his soul had been twisted and placed inside the Sand Queen. For starters, his ego had probably been shattered, but even if it hadn't, contents placed in ill-fitting vessels had a habit of breaking. And if that vessel was the body of someone who exceeded mortal comprehension, then all the more so. By now, Aguina Elephabred was broken beyond repair. It was perhaps only a matter of time before the surviving demi-humans and Torture Princess alike were all burned to a crisp. Upon realizing that, Elisabeth dashed through the settlement. She raced between burning chunks of debris like a gust of wind and barreled out of the skull gate. Then she began setting up to launch a fierce point-blank attack on the Sand

Queen. All she needed to do was draw his attention her way. However, she didn't get a chance to activate so much as a single torture device. For the Sand Queen did something wholly unexpected. "Gu............Gu r u............Gi.........Ru r u.........Rurururu......Ru.........gi............" After a bewildering cry, she hung her head low. Then she ran her long tongue across the lake of spilled blood. Dark mana welled up within, and the surface of the lake burst into flames. The Sand Queen slowly began submerging herself in the black fire. Her mind's—Aguina's—destructive impulses clearly weren't being directed at the hidden demi-human village. "Ah, I see... Broken as you are, you would still choose as such," Elisabeth murmured quietly. She analyzed the spell that had been cast on the black lake. Although the Sand Queen's method deviated from the norm, she was trying to teleport. And with Aguina being the blood purist he was, it wasn't difficult to guess what destination his unconscious mind would choose. He would head to the lands of the purebloods' biggest threat—the humans. Elisabeth reached her verdict instantly. The Sand Queen's already begun her teleportation, and stopping her halfway is beyond us. She hurried over to the lake. As she ran, she conjured up a whirl of black darkness and crimson flower petals and, without slowing down, drew Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal from within. She gave it a firm swing downward. The swing sliced her own left arm clean off. Her blood poured out and splattered atop the parched sand. Elisabeth didn't close the wound. Not right away, at least. Instead, she splashed its gushing crimson flow into the black lake. It was like watching a dance. Or like someone mixing poison into water. "—La (become)." The spell she wove was one the Torture Princess rarely used. She was tampering with the Sand Queen's teleportation magic. The Sand Queen had less blood at her disposal than the beastfolk did when they sent the Three Kings out of their nation, and furthermore, she had no incantations to support her. Thanks to those vulnerabilities, Elisabeth was able to successfully influence her spell. In doing so, the Torture Princess skillfully shifted the destination site. The Sand Queen dived into the blackness none the wiser, and her massive frame vanished completely. The moment it did, the ground around the lake's perimeter began violently moving. Sand spilled into the newly formed hole like it was being swallowed up by an ant lion pit. As the quicksand swirled in every direction, it made its way down into black depths and began filling in the lake. With one of her arms missing, Elisabeth quickly lost her balance. Fortunately, Lute was able to catch her just in the nick of time. "Ho-whoop!" With a strange cry, he yanked her back to safety. However, the excess momentum caused him to collapse on his backside. He got sucked up in the sand's flow like so many ants. On seeing that, Elisabeth calmly conjured up a rope. She started by tying off her left arm to stop the bleeding, then threw the other end at Lute and caught him by the tail. She reeled him in like the catch of the day. "I appreciate the save!" she shouted. "Now, get on back here yourself, Lute!" "Oh, what a shameful way for me to get caught! Thank you for the assistance. I must say, though... Owwwww." Having his beloved tail squeezed like that brought tears to Lute's eyes. Yet somehow, he managed to drag himself back up. That was when a vermilion, lizard-headed demi-human chose to pop up. "I would ask if you two are all right...but I can see the answer for myself!" It was Randgrof. Elisabeth was surprised. Apparently, he had chosen not to hide with the other purebloods. His good nature was clear to see, as was his sense of duty. He helped Lute to his feet. Then he plucked up Elisabeth's arm before the sand had a chance to swallow it up and offered it back to her. He seemed a little daunted, but he spoke up all the same. "I imagine a mage like you can reattach it, no? Come on, we need to get out of here!" "Nimbly done. You have my thanks. Let us be off, then!" Elisabeth loosened her rope, then forcibly pressed her arm against her stump and squeezed down on the seam as she fell back alongside Randgrof and Lute. Once they'd reached a safe distance, she turned to look back. Her eyes went wide. Both the black lake and the fire were gone without a trace. In their place, a hexagonal tower of sand rose high into the sky. It was the exact same shape as the demi-human sanctuaries, and it was cracked on the edges like over-pounded sugar candy. Then, all at once, the tower crumbled. A dry yellow wind blew past. When it faded, there was nothing there. Abruptly, Randgrof fell to his knees. He must have heard Lute's shout earlier, as he let out a vacant murmur. "Father... Her Majesty the Sand Queen... What the hell is even happening? I don't..." Elisabeth and Lute had no reply to that. They just stared at the space before them. The Sand Queen had vanished off to the human lands. And with her, she had brought death and destruction anew. A calamity cometh. A calamity cometh. To all the people of the land. It was like an apostle's proclamation—the calamity that was the Sand Queen was on the move. By all rights, she should have already been burning the human territories to the ground. However, Elisabeth had interfered with her destination site and changed it to a mountain range far to the east. There were no houses there, nor did anyone harvest any natural resources from the area. It was about as far from human habitation as you could get. That bought humanity a little time to try to come up with countermeasures. However, preventing the Sand Queen's invasion altogether had been beyond Elisabeth, and the prospects of them being able to stop her en route were slim. After all, her wounds had already been patched up. Furthermore, she still had enough mana in her to wreak all manners of destruction. The broken toy had been repaired, and her key had been wound back up. What was mankind to do, now that they were faced with this new peril? Elisabeth turned her thoughts as fast as they could go. I doubt we've any option but to destroy her reactor again... She has her scales, but we hold a better picture of her weaknesses than we did before. It shan't be easy, certainly, but we've no choice but to try. Damn it all. If this were the final battle we had to face, that would be one thing... Elisabeth ground her teeth. If they threw the saints and everything else they had at her, they actually stood a pretty good chance. The problem was, the Fremd Torturchen was waiting right in the wings. It was all too easy to imagine what would happen if Alice came back right in the middle of their battle with the Sand Queen. Mankind simply lacked the power to take both of them on at once. If that happened, there would be no way for them to escape annihilation. They needed to kill the Sand Queen, and they needed to kill her now. Elisabeth thought back to Kaito Sena's True Message. "Fool. You would ask me to believe in you, even in a situation such as this?" she muttered. She was still drenched in her own blood. She stared off into empty space like an infant. However, she soon shook her head. This was no time to waste dwelling on idle thoughts. She needed to get back to the Capital as fast as she could so she could tell them about the situation. Conveniently enough, her surroundings were already splattered with her blood. She began drawing a teleportation circle. Then Lute interrupted her. His voice was oddly grave. "Ah, I see. Fate can be a funny thing, can't it? Maybe this was what my people's turmoil was leading to. It made us think long and hard about the weight of our own lives, and maybe that will be what lets us make a choice we won't regret." "What are you on about, Lute? Don't tell me you're going to get all gloomy and muddled on me." It wasn't like him to be so roundabout with his words. Elisabeth couldn't help but be a bit worried about him. Lute looked up. The look in his eyes was firm and unclouded. He straightened his posture and spoke with deep solemnity. "I can't make any promises, Captain Elisabeth, but the world is in peril again, and the end is nigh. My people and the demi-humans were once sworn friends, and I believe we have it in us to make the right decision." Elisabeth was about to reiterate her question, but she stopped. There was a strange sort of drive burning in Lute's eyes. He closed his mouth and said no more. It was obvious that she wasn't going to get any clearer of an answer out of him than that. Randgrof, who'd been listening to their exchange from the side, wore a similar expression to Lute's. Still silent, he clenched his fists tight. He didn't seem any more likely than Lute to give voice to his thoughts. Realizing there was nothing to be done about it, Elisabeth turned back. Petals scattered as she completed her teleportation circle. The florid crimson splashes hardened into walls, obscuring Lute and Randgrof from view. The two of them saw her off through to the very end. And all the while, they were brimming with a tragic sort of bravery. "...and now the Sand Queen is on the move. We need to deploy combat assets so as to intercept her." As soon as Elisabeth returned, the first thing she did was explain what had happened. She was in the underground tomb, standing before the round table in the royal council room. The moment she entered that cramped chamber, she immediately laid out the situation. When she ended on the news of their new foe's march, the conversation came to a standstill. Maclaeus, his attendants, a smattering of aristocrats and high priest representatives, and Izabella all stared at her in disbelief. When Elisabeth arrived, they had still been discussing Alice and the Saint's death. However, it was hard to fault them too much for that. The Church and its religion had been the cornerstone of human society for many years, yet now their central pillar, the Saint, had chosen to sacrifice herself and perish. If anything, it would've been stranger if their discussion hadn't been in disarray. Now Elisabeth had dropped yet another bombshell in their laps. With how somber the room was, it was like the world was ending or something. Suddenly, one of the high priests—an elderly man who'd stayed neutral during the schism between the reconstruction sect and the moderates—rose to his feet. He thrust one of his withered fingers at Elisabeth. "What?" she responded. "If you've something you wish to say, do at least try to be quick about it." "Why couldn't you have been the one to die?" he spat, the crinkles in his face quivering. Ah. Elisabeth nodded. The question was one born of abject hysteria, but it wasn't completely without merit. Even Elisabeth found it somewhat odd that she was the one who'd been left behind. That said, it was the Saint herself who had determined that the Torture Princess was a piece better suited for a protracted battle. That was all there was to it. However, the high priest was clearly unconvinced. His scarlet vestments swished as he prattled on. "Why is Her Holiness the Saint gone, yet the Torture Princess draws breath? And not only did the peerless sinner have the audacity to survive, she even comes

and brings us more calamity? It's not too late, you know. You can still go to Her Holiness and die instead of—" "You must really be distraught, to want us to sacrifice our own forces. I hope you'll forgive me this impropriety." The words rang with great courtesy as the fist sank squarely into the priest's cheek. His wrinkled face crumpled inward. The discrepancy between the voice's tone and the sheer violence of the act was a sight to behold. On both counts, the culprit was Izabella. She lowered her fist, her silver hair swaying. However, it was clear that she had held back as much as possible. The priest stumbled a little, but was otherwise none the worse for wear. Another high priest grabbed his shoulder to help support him. The second man had been one of the moderates, as well as Godd Deos's direct pupil. After his mentor's death, he assumed Godd Deos's position. His long hair rustled as he shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was calm. "Compose yourself. In this case, Madam Vicker is right. Now, Elisabeth Le Fanu, you just comported yourself as an apostle heralding a calamity and told us that the Sand Queen is on the move, do I have that right? In other words, she's sided with the Fremd Torturchen and is assisting with her rampage?" "Not in the strictest sense, no. But explaining the particulars would take time we don't have. I'll be sure to write you a full report later. The long and short of it is that she's coming for the human lands, and she won't stop till she's laid waste to us all." This time, it was Maclaeus who spoke up. "Any coordinated bombardment we try with the paladins and priests would cost us too much, and it wouldn't give us the firepower we need anyway. It looks like we don't have a choice but to deploy the saints, even if it means leaving the Capital undefended for a time. Do you know where exactly it is she appeared?" As always, he carried himself with composure. But in truth, he was doing everything he could to keep his terror in check. His eyes still retained a great deal of their youthfulness, and he couldn't conceal the fear lurking in their depths. However, they didn't have the leisure to worry about such things at the moment. Elisabeth chose to ignore the king's emotions. Instead, she just answered his question. "That I do. I shifted her drop site as far as I could. The problem is..." "We still have to deal with the Fremd Torturchen, right," Izabella murmured to continue her thought. "That means we'll want to keep our casualties as low as we can get them... Still, even if this will mark her third death, it's still the Sand Queen we're dealing with. We're up against long odds." Elisabeth nodded. Their only choice was to pull out all the stops to deal with the threat before them. There was no point worrying about the future if they were going to be dead before it even arrived. If mankind was to survive, this counterattack needed to succeed. The discussion moved on to details of how they were going to deploy the saints. The air was thick with tension. Despite the voices clearly audible, the room felt as still as a seabed. That was, until the door swung loudly open. "King Maclaeus, big news!" An outsider barged into the room. It was one of the officials who'd been monitoring the communication devices. Everyone turned anxiously to look at him, wondering what it could be now. Under the weight of their tense stares, the official shouted excitedly. "The message is from Sir Randgrof Elephabred of the demi-humans and Sir Vyadryavka Ula Forstlast of the beastfolk! They've received permission from their respective leaders and are working together to assemble a joint army!" "The beastfolk and demi-humans, together?" "And what's more, the injured Three Kings of the Forest are joining the march. They're coming to stand against the Sand Queen!" That certainly sent the room astir. As it did, Elisabeth finally realized what Lute had meant. So the beastfolk understand. The Sand Queen was being controlled by Aguina, and between his broken mind and his obsession with blood purity, there was little doubt that he would turn his attention to the beastfolk after he was done with the humans. Plus, even if the humans prevailed, Alice's slaughter was right around the corner. And those who numbered strongest among the beastfolk, the Three Kings of the Forest, were ill-suited for battle against pesky little rats. In other words, the beastfolk were doomed if they lost the shield that mankind represented. Considering all those conditions, the choice they were making was more or less the best one they had. And that choice was to help humanity preserve its strength. No one wants to die, after all. However, there were also those whose positions were such that they had to protect others, even if it meant throwing themselves to the wolves. It was a sad, lonely lot, having to shoulder the weight of the world. Yet the Three Kings of the Forest had chosen to act for their people's sake all the same. The room was full of clamor and commotion, but Elisabeth alone remained silent. The official clutched his abdomen as he quickly relayed the rest of his information. "The message went on! 'We and the demi-humans are old friends, and as their friend, the duty to cut off their head falls to us. We wish to leave the battle with the Fremd Torturchen to our new friends the humans.' And there was one more thing..." "The Three Kings of the Forest are marching to their deaths." And march they would, for the sake of the countless lives that hung in the balance. Shedding rivers of their noble, precious blood as they went. The Three Kings' declaration echoed through the room, then vanished into silence. Come, let us sing a victory hymn. What lies beyond death? What lies after death? What awaits us following death? It isn't oblivion. It isn't tragedy. It isn't despair. It isn't the end. It's life. Our deaths will pave the way for new life. The moment we drew our swords, victory was already at our hands. So let us sing. Let us sing our victory hymn. Sing of a battle that will live on beyond us. Sing loud the victory hymn of our kings. And sing loud they did, scores of soldiers all in unison. It was clear to Elisabeth that it wasn't merely a victory hymn. It was just as much a funeral march. The soldiers all knew the implications of the choice the Three Kings of the Forest were making, and still they chose to honor their kings' resolve and fight for the sake of their people. However, that didn't stop them from grieving for their kings' willingness to die. Their procession had a dignified gravity to it, and the grim sound of their march echoed through the forest. They were walking to their own graves, and they all knew it. Yet even so, not a single one of them even thought of stopping. Leading up the solemn march were Randgrof and Vyadryavka. Both of them had been impressively fast to make their choices and act. They had made their case themselves, they had won over the rest of the beastfolk imperial family, and now they were standing at death's gate. And there was another familiar face among the soldiers' ranks as well—Lute's. "So this is what you were getting at earlier," Elisabeth said to him. "'Twas a welcome choice from our perspective, but I'll admit to some shock at your Three Kings having chosen to battle to their deaths amid your country's national crisis, much less that such a thing was allowed." "C-Captain Elisabeth! What are you doing here, ma'am?" "Really?" Elisabeth shot back in exasperation. "What could possibly compel you to believe I would sit this battle out after hearing its particulars? The very thought of doing so would be ludicrous. Am I wrong?" Lute's tail was all puffed up. By the look of it, he really was surprised to see her. The man had many talents, but reading the room wasn't one of them, nor was being quick on the uptake. Even deep in the undeveloped mountains, the path between the trees was flat and easy on the feet, and the view was clear and unobscured. A damp forest wind lapped at Elisabeth's cheeks. The air was humid and ripe with the smell of rusty iron. That was all due to the Three Kings of the Forest mowing down the trees and leveling the ground in their path. Everything in their wake was dyed red with their blood. Lute veered away from the beastfolk procession for a minute. He and Elisabeth took shelter behind some trees. There, he gave her his thoughts on the current state of affairs. "In a sense, it's that same national crisis that made this possible. Before, the imperial family was divided. But they all shared the same fear of annihilation. That was what made them tearily accept the Three Kings of the Forest's decision. It simply goes to show what sort of influence the Three Kings of the Forest wield." "Kings going to battle gravely wounded to fight for their people and the lives yet to come... Why, 'tis almost like something out of a storybook. I can easily imagine what a beautifully tragic scene it would have made for. Little wonder, then, they were able to move so many hearts." Elisabeth frowned. You wouldn't have known it by her words, but she despised heroic epics. More often than not, stories that ended with everyone living happily ever after were just there to mask the tragedies that lay beneath, with their heroes stripped of every last vestige of their personalities. At the same time, though, there was something she had to begrudgingly admit. Beautiful stories had the power to spur people into action. This story was one well worthy of being told for ages to come. What she and the others were about to witness was the birth of a legend. She shook her head to dispel her saccharine reverie. Once she'd cleared her mind, she spoke calmly. "Mankind has sent me, Torture Princess Elisabeth Le Fanu, as well as three-fifths of the saints to join in this battle, with Jeanne de Rais, Izabella Vicker, and one of the other fifths waiting on standby. That said, we've already lost La Mules and La Christoph, the two who'd be best suited for this sort of counterattack. I intend to stand on the front lines, but the plan is to have the others acting solely as support for the Three Kings. We sent a signaller ahead, so Vyadryavka should already be aware of our intentions." "Roger that, ma'am. I'm sure that's about what the Three Kings of the Forest, Sir Randgrof, and Lord Vyadryavka Ula Forstlast expected. At the end of the day, it's us beastfolk and a handful of the demi-humans who have chosen this place to die. The victory hymn is ours, as is the funeral march. If Lady Vyade Ula Forstlast were here, I imagine she would say the same thing." "I see. Very well, then. Oh, and Lute...one other thing." "What's that?" "Don't you dare die today." When he heard her curt warning, Lute conspicuously avoided meeting her gaze. Elisabeth gave him a kick in the rear, and a rough one at that. It nearly sent him crashing into a tree. Then, speaking as his captain, she tore him a new one. "You absolute dunce, you have a child on the way! My plan is to act independently of the army, but I have every intention of doing it with my men by my side, and I'm of no mind to let you lot die. So don't.

Consider that an order." It wasn't something one would typically expect to hear from the Torture Princess. However, Elisabeth said it knowing full well how ridiculous she sounded. Even in a crisis such as theirs, there were some people whose role it was to survive. This was a battle to secure the future. Everyone there knew and boasted of it, and the man before her was one they couldn't afford to let die. Lute averted his eyes again. However, mentioning his child had produced a marked change in his expression. He gave her a deep nod. "Of course. I have no intention of dying for nothing. That I swear, for Ain's sake as well." There was something ominous about his words, but there could be no doubting the unshakable resolve resting within them. Elisabeth had a mind to continue her warning. Before she could get the words out, though, a violent tremor shook the air. The bugle had been blown. Loud, loud, loud it blew. It was like a messenger had come to deliver a message: A calamity cometh. The broken Queen has arrived, in all her glory. 4 The Queen's Transformation It's time for a confession. Lute was a simple, awkward man with a heart full of compassion and righteousness who cared deeply about his wife and his friends. Part of that was due to his nature as a beastman, but it was just as much a product of his own personal convictions. In his eyes, any man who couldn't protect the people he cared about was no man at all, and a disgrace to the beastfolk to boot. That was something he believed deeply. Once, though, he went against those beliefs and committed a grave sin. There was something he had forgotten. Something he had absolutely needed to remember. Back at the World Tree, a thought crossed his mind. Perhaps he ought to remember Kaito Sena's smile. It would be best if he made sure to remember it, no matter what happened. But he forgot. And that wasn't all. There were oh-so-many things that had slipped his mind. It's time for a story. A story about who Kaito Sena was by nature. Lute had checked all his information in the beastfolk lands. Kaito Sena came from another world, one where he'd been abused and eventually killed. Then the Torture Princess had summoned him to act as her servant. Originally, though, he had been nothing but a powerless boy, a tragic child victimized without anyone to protect him. Yet somehow, everyone had forgotten that simple fact. None of the adults whose job it was to defend the world had remembered it. Lute and the others had collectively placed the burden of the entire world on the back of a single boy. They were the ones who were soldiers. It should have been their burden to bear. Kaito Sena offered no reply to his cry of regret. All he did— —was smile a vaguely awkward smile. Then after thinking it over for a moment, Kaito reacted. He waved with big, childlike sweeps. The meaning of that gesture was the same across worlds. And because of that, Lute gasped. When Lute realized that, he cried out Kaito's name. As he did, Kaito kept frantically waving. He was saying a single word. "Good-bye." Lute had never forgotten that moment. Not a single day went by where he didn't think about it. Someday, someone would probably tell the tale with a lyre in one hand. Come, little ones. Come, and behold. Picture the sight. Picture the four monarchs, standing amid the flattened trees. Picture those who are too exalted, too noble, and too beautiful for us to even imagine. Picture the Sand Queen and the hermaphroditic Three Kings of the Forest. All of them were drenched in blood. And unlike the Kings, the Queen had lost her sanity to boot. Her eyes were staring off in different directions. The only thing lucid about her was the sheer bloodlust she was directing at any she considered to be in her way. The Three Kings responded to her malice in kind. The ancient wolf turned to the heavens, the white deer stomped its hooves, and the colossal hawk spread its wings wide. Then the Kings and Queen all opened their mouths in unison. A quartet of voices split the air like lightning. The noise quickly departed the range humans could hear. Yet heard or not, the Three Kings of the Forest roared on. Looking at them, it was clear they were singing an elegy. After all this time, their sworn friend's corpse had lost its mind. How could they learn of that and not grieve? However, their profound sorrow was met with flame. The Sand Queen's magical firebombing was much like the fixed batteries'. Anyone on the receiving end would be burned to a crisp. With nary a pause, the colossal hawk swept its battered wings. Blood spilled off them as a great wind blew forth. The shock wave dissipated the heat and extinguished it, and the ancient wolf followed up by kicking off against the ground and leaping into the air. Mountains trembled. The earth cracked. The beastfolk had braced themselves for the impact in advance, but even that wasn't enough to stop them from all tumbling ignobly to the ground. If they hadn't been ready, some of them might have actually died. Shouted warnings sounded through the air from all over. All the while, the ancient wolf soared. Higher and higher it went, a black shadow against the sky. The sun went dark, and a rain of blood poured down. Then the ancient wolf brought its arm down on the Sand Queen. However, its claws merely bounced off her scales and snapped off. The broken claws spun through the air and fell right in the middle of the army. "Fall back, fall back! Take cover! Ahhhhhhh!" One fervent scream rose up after another. By some stroke of fortune, none of them ended up getting skewered. Still, the fallen claws towered high over the army, each one easily taller than any of the beastfolk present. The procession's terror was all too visible in the way they held their tails and ears. Next, the white deer turned its hooves on the Sand Queen. The King shifted its weight forward in an attempt to trample the Queen, causing the ground to tremble so hard that cracks began forming across the mountain. The Sand Queen squirmed, but the hooves were unerring. The immense weight being focused on their tips caused a small chunk of the Sand Queen's scales to peel upward a hair. A familiar cry split the air. "Ready, aim, fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiire!" Much the way Aguina once had, Randgrof Elephabred gave the order. A bombardment roared out, flames gushing from the cannons set up atop the slanted mountainside as one shot rang out after another in succession. It was a tremendous display, made possible only by the demi-humans' incredible transportation skills. The relentless, merciless bombardment served to illustrate the stubbornness, or to an extent, the ill nature of the ones unleashing it. Aguina had approved scant few to operate the cannons, and the ruthless efficiency with which they worked went to show what model examples they were of the demi-humans' natural disposition. Furthermore, those were no cannonballs they were firing. They were silver harpoons coated in the blood of the Three Kings. They slammed into the Sand Queen one after another. Over a dozen of them merely bounced off her. However, three of the harpoons managed to slip between the dislocated scales. The ancient wolf grabbed hold of the harpoons' chains and gave them a relentless yank. The Sand Queen's vast body rose up off the ground and tore loudly through the air itself. The ancient wolf knew that if it slammed her straight back down, there was no way the beastfolk would emerge unscathed. Instead, it used the short time before the chains snapped to hurl the Sand Queen against a nearby mountain. The sound of every bone in her body snapping under her own weight split the air. However, the Sand Queen was unable to feel pain. After landing, the Sand Queen slowly rose back up and let out a cry. Elisabeth still couldn't see her in her entirety, but her instincts told her that the Sand Queen was all but unharmed. The sole damage she'd sustained was losing one of her scales in its entirety. Elisabeth wasted no time in letting out a soft murmur. "Nail Gun." A spiral of crimson petals and black darkness raced forward, and rusted nails the size of thin pillars appeared out of the air. In a perfect world, her goal would have been to pierce the Sand Queen's mana source through, but her scales had previously made that impossible. Now, though, Elisabeth was able to focus her attack straight at the Sand Queen's one bare patch of skin. A thunking noise rang out in succession. Black blood gushed out from between the nails, and the Sand Queen let out a roar of anguish. Even without the ability to feel pain, she was still able to tell when she was losing fluids. A chorus rose up to join her roar. "Ah, aah, ah, AH, ahh, AAAAAAaaaaaaAaAaAaAAAAAA!" There was an eerie solemnity to the voices. They sounded just as much like a scream as they did a hymn. A flock of birds. A school of fish. Rainbow light. Drops of blood. The divine beasts all shot toward the Sand Queen at once, using Elisabeth's nails as a target to land on and explode. The Sand Queen's flesh tore, causing massive amounts of blood to spill out and drench her surroundings. Elisabeth gave a small nod. The Sand Queen's blood was full of mana. The more of it they could spill, the better off the beastfolk would be. "Let's see if we can bleed her dry, shall we?" Seeing that the tactic was effective, the Torture Princess fired off more volleys of nails. The thunking ran out once more as Elisabeth stabbed, pierced, and penetrated the wound. "Adjust for the second row, fifth from the right! Fire!" Meanwhile, the beastfolk were making their move as well. They took advantage of the Sand Queen's immobility to finish adjusting their great bows, then carefully aimed between the peeling scales and fired. Their bows lacked the raw firepower the cannons had, but they allowed for far more precise sniping, and their arrowheads were coated in the same underling poison they'd used during Ragnarok. The Sand Queen was a corpse, so the poison had little effect on her body's ability to function, but its corrosive effects were powerful nonetheless. The scales around the impact sites began melting. That then allowed for more harpoons to find their mark. The ancient wolf grabbed the chains once more. The Sand Queen swayed on her feet. Waves of heat exploded erratically from her mouth, blasting away the topology of a nearby mountain. Some of the soldiers got caught up in the shock wave from the impact. Viscera spilled from their mangled torsos. Little ones such as them were so terribly fragile. Before the Sand Queen could do any more damage, the ancient wolf reached out and clamped her mouth shut. As it did, the white deer smashed her womb, and the colossal hawk pecked away at her legs. The battle was going far better for the Three Kings of the Forest than anyone could have imagined. They were all injured, but at the same time, the Sand Queen had already been destroyed once, and the beastfolk, demi-humans, and humans already knew how she fought. By all accounts, their victory was almost at hand. Upon seeing that, Elisabeth narrowed her eyes. ...Hmm? And there, for the first time, she realized that something felt off. She's hardly putting up a fight. Surely this can't be what Alice wished for. Elisabeth frowned. At the same time, though, there was a part of

her that said, "So what?" Maybe the Sand Queen had suffered more damage than Alice had accounted for. Perhaps that was all there was to it. The problem was, that child really, truly wanted for everyone to all die together. Would a girl that driven really overestimate her toy soldier by such a degree? Elisabeth found that hard to imagine. On the other hand, she had no means to convey her misgivings to the Three Kings of the Forest, nor would she have even had time to. The gross humiliation continued playing out before her eyes. Scales and claws went flying. Flesh tore. Blood was shed. Viscera was spilled. The Three Kings of the Forest were tearing the Sand Queen apart piece by piece. It was horrible to look at. However, it was also logical. If you wanted to put down someone who was already dead, you needed to destroy their body to the point where it could no longer move. Elisabeth coolly observed the scene before her. As she did, she was reminded of a battle she'd fought once before. This wasn't Elisabeth's first time going up against someone who had been broken. For example, there was her final battle against the demons. By having their egos destroyed, they had attained a whole different sort of power than usual. Aguina Elephabred was a studious man. I've little doubt he knew about the demonic flesh mass and its attack on the Capital. An ominous premonition came over her as she mused on that fact. However, there was no reason to believe that, even if faced with defeat, the Sand Queen would be able to transform herself the way they did. The incident at the Capital came about due to the rare confluence of demonic contracts being mixed with ego death. In the Sand Queen's case, that didn't apply. It had no reason to. Yet for some reason, Elisabeth's sense of foreboding refused to go away. Then the ancient wolf's gargantuan arm sank into the Sand Queen's body. Her skin should have been elastic, but all of a sudden, it lost that quality. Elisabeth's eyes went wide at the impossible turn of events. The transformation was starting. "What's going on?" "The Sand Queen's...falling apart?" The beastfolk let out cries of confusion, and Elisabeth couldn't help but stare as well. However, out of the blue, her instincts as the Torture Princess screamed the answer to her, and all at once, she realized what was going on. Ah, so that's it! The Sand Queen's a corpse! She isn't alive! In other words, that meant that her entire body was nothing more than raw magical material. The demi-humans were poorly versed in the ways of magic. However, they had learned of the beastfolk technique of using corpses as raw material to perform magic with during their joint battle at Ragnarok, and while they thought of the beastfolk as old friends, the possibility of eventually finding themselves as enemies had always been at the back of the demi-humans' minds. It stood to reason that Aguina would have researched the technique in more depth later on. He made a choice based on that knowledge, and the material writhed in accordance. Scales melted, flesh crumbled and commingled with blood, bones faded away, everything swelled up, and, with a pop, it all burst. Ahrasa Aina, o'er Dragons' Graveyard the sun rises and flashes Ahrasa Aréna, blistering sands wash over her cold silver ashes Deep within an eternal sleep, her ever-closed eyes watch over her sheep Ensuring all her descendants are honest and true and good and resplendent Please, my queen, know it is true, believe in us as we believe in you Elisabeth thought back to those lines from the epigraph to the Sand Queen's legend. When she first read the passage, a question had sprung to her mind. Wouldn't an entity that watched over her sheep and ensured that everyone was honest and true and good and resplendent—and with "ever-closed eyes," no less—be terrifying? she thought. It seemed to her that the song could be taken as something like an aphorism for those children. There wasn't a demi-human pureblood in the world who hadn't heard that legend, and in all likelihood, Aguina had taken away the same impression from it that Elisabeth had. By the looks of things, the song had played a key role in shaping the Queen's transformation. By now, her entire body had crumbled. Her scales had melted away in their entirety, and her flesh and blood were all merged together. She no longer had any sort of defined silhouette. Instead, her whole body from top to bottom had become a soft, flabby blob. And that blob was covered in eyes. Eyes, innumerable eyes, swiveling every which way. That thing wasn't the Sand Queen anymore. It was just an entity that judged everyone and determined if they were honest and true and good and resplendent. It was a monster that saw everything. It was hideous. It was evil. It was wise. It was broken beyond repair. "What the hell is that—ack, gack, GAH!" "Don't breathe in if you can help it!" Elisabeth shouted as she covered her mouth. "It might well be the last thing you do!" Pungent poisonous fumes were rising up from the fleshy blob at an alarming rate. It was because all the Sand Queen's blood had gotten compressed at once. Soldiers fell to the ground where they stood and started vomiting. Beastfolk had a strong sense of smell. They wouldn't be able to endure it for long. Elisabeth snapped her fingers. Crimson petals and black darkness whirled up and blew as a powerful gust. As she did, the colossal hawk gently flapped its wings as well, protecting its people by blowing away the stagnant air. Meanwhile, the flesh blob began wriggling. Its surface extended outward with terrifying speed, and it turned a bizarre "arm" on its avian foe. The glutinous tentacle grabbed one of the colossal hawk's wings. The inside of the arm was lined with teeth. The blob bit down with them and ripped the wing clean off. Blood splattered the ground. A shrill screech rose up, as did a bellowing roar. The ancient wolf wrenched its arm free from the flesh blob and used its tremendous claws to grab the blob once more. It pulled with all its might and tore the blob in half. However, the halves simply sprang back. They rejoined all on their own and stuck fast to each other. The whole army collectively stared, dumbfounded. The flesh blob had done the impossible, and it had done so in the most ridiculous manner imaginable. It all kind of felt like a bad joke. "Nail Gun." Elisabeth shot some stakes at it to test the waters. A muffled bwoinnnng echoed sadly through the air. All the nails had hit their target. However, that was all they had done. It made sense, in a way. The Sand Queen's body had already degraded as much as it could. There was no point trying to damage it further. Her blood was all blended into her flesh, and her mana reactor had moved inside her body. All her vulnerabilities were gone. At the end of the day, the Sand Queen was nothing more than a walking corpse, and now she was taking full advantage of that fact. For all the efficiency her transformation boasted, though, it was also as blasphemous as blasphemy could be. This wasn't a choice any normal man would have made. In short, that speaks to the sheer degree Aguina has been broken, Elisabeth mused bitterly. Meanwhile, the Three Kings' bewilderment was shaking the air itself. Never could they have imagined their old friend's corpse losing everything down to its very form. In the Sand Queen's current state, it was impossible to even grieve for her anymore. All that existed now was a comedically unidentifiable blob of flesh. A sad realization started dawning on those assembled there. The curtain had closed early on the battle of legend they'd been expecting. All they had to look forward to now was a sad, honorless brawl that would go on until the flesh blob's tank ran dry. Hooves smashed eyes. Claws tore flesh. Poisonous blood went spraying in every direction. The Three Kings of the Forest continued their melee, and the flesh blob took their fierce onslaught head-on. Suddenly, though, it began writhing again. The moment before the next kick made contact, the blob's eyes turned into mouths. It chomped down on the King's leg, hoof and all. The white deer hurriedly wrenched its leg free, but its entire ankle had already been eaten. White bone peeked out from inside the wound. And the ancient wolf's paw met the same fate. Just like its royal brethren, all the flesh on its fingers was gnawed off. The way the flesh blob was fighting was too bizarre for words. The Three Kings of the Forest were getting played for fools. However, the blob's new body did make it considerably more vulnerable to long-range attacks. "Ah, aah, ah, AH, ahh, AAAAAAaaaaaaAaAaAaAAAAAA!" The saints renewed their bombardment. Blinding light smashed into the blob over and over, burning away chunks of it and shaving it down. Compared to before her transformation, fire-based attacks seemed to be far more effective against the Queen. However, there was still a problem. The saints no longer had anyone who could gather and coordinate their attacks or alleviate their burden, and individually, they weren't cut out for protracted battles. Many of them were already vomiting up blood, and it wouldn't be long before they'd all reached their limits. "I had hoped to be able to preserve my mana, but I can see that isn't an option. I'd best be prepared to drain my reserves dry." Elisabeth clapped her hands against the crimson ground and conjured a pair of small stakes. With them, she pierced her own hands through. Her blood poured out, mixing in with the Three Kings' blood that had been spilled across the ground. Elisabeth then used the mixture to draw a magic circle she would normally never use. With it, she carefully called forth the entity she deemed best suited for the job. "Wicker Man!" Darkness and petals burst and scattered, and a dry, snapping sound emanated as dark boughs reached out. A massive, birdcage-like figure knit itself together with the flesh blob at its center. It was far larger than any other time Elisabeth had deployed it, and it was shaped differently as well. This time, it had stumpy limbs and a long, protracted torso. It almost resembled a jail cell that had been locked up tight. Furthermore, its boughs were tightly interlaced. The flesh blob struggled and raged, but the figure obstinately refused to release it. Instead, it burst into tempestuous flames. Dainty, feminine screams rose up from within as a chorus of mouths all cried in minutely varied pitches. However, the person controlling those flames—Elisabeth—clicked her tongue. "'Tis insufficient. I haven't the power to burn her through. Abandoning the Sand Queen's form has made her hardy, I'll give her that." The blob was soft and vulnerable. However, burning it down to charcoal would have required a truly prodigious amount of thermal power. Plus, the mass of eyeballs had begun crying, drenching the flames and weakening them before Elisabeth's eyes. "That Aguina, always a clever one," she muttered, chagrined. Despite the Sand Queen's mind being broken, the finesse with which she was manipulating her body was downright scary. And unlike how fervent her impulse to wreak destruction to protect her race was, she seemed to have no such compulsion to preserve her own form. That alone made her a formidable foe. At this point, it comes to a matter of how much the Three Kings can crush on top of the amount I already burned away. That was the ultimate verdict Elisabeth settled on. The flesh blob's very existence lay outside mankind's ability to fully

comprehend, and although a powered-up Fremd Torturchen numbered among their foes, their side had no mages on par with Kaito Sena. The only ones who could take on foes surpassing the fourteen demons were entities of a similar caliber. Then, right as Elisabeth finished arriving at her conclusion, she heard something. It was the sound of hooves striking the ground. And pretty close to her, at that. She looked up with a start. There, she spotted a summoned beast that looked like a cross between a lizard and a horse. Elisabeth had seen those creatures before. The three races summoned them during Ragnarok, and by the looks of it, the beastfolk still owned some. There were just over a dozen of them, and they cut through the foul air and dodged the chunks of blobby flesh hurtling between the trees as they raced forward. As the pack passed her by, Elisabeth saw something more. The people mounted on the beasts were none other than her own Peace Brigade. Randgrof Elephabred was riding at the vanguard, and beside him on the same mount, Lute was manning the reins. 5 A Valorous Charge Randgrof Elephabred held his father in disdain. In a sense, that wasn't how he really felt. On an intellectual level, he held a great deal of respect toward his father. If he didn't, he never would have taken Aguina's advice to move to the hidden village. His father was easily an accomplished enough man to be worthy of his admiration. At the same time, though, Randgrof did not have a high opinion of his father. For Randgrof Elephabred knew. He knew that Aguina Elephabred was a kind, loving father. But he also knew that the man was capable of making unbelievably vile choices without an ounce of remorse. Randgrof grew up under the watchful eyes of his mother, who was wise yet was also a bit of an oddball, and his wet nurse, who was calm and gentle. He didn't even interact with his father that much. But before he knew it, he had realized something. His father was a monster. Someday, he was sure to sell his own master out for thirteen coins of gold or commit some other equally grave sin. And at the same time, Randgrof knew. His father was a hero. Someday, the people might well hail him as their one and only savior. It could just as easily play out either way. For that was the kind of person Aguina Elephabred was. And that wasn't all. Aguina was a man saddled with a tremendous contradiction. If he became a monster, he wouldn't regret a thing, and if he became a hero, he would take no pride in the fact. Everything Aguina did, he did for his race. No matter what became of him, all that would remain was his anguish. No amount of grieving, boasting, laughing, or crying would change who he was or what he needed to do. Those words were straight from the horse's mouth. And Aguina was right. None of that would've changed the aggregate amount of anguish he would have borne. That was the thing Randgrof hated most about his father. For he was wrong. Wrong beyond belief. "Look, Father, if I may be so bold, all I wanted was to help you bear that anguish." "Either that or for you to just be my father." "You could've just not been an enemy of the world or a hero—and I'll confess, that's all there was to it." "Nevermore." Elisabeth called forth a massive raven. Crimson flower petals and black darkness swirled through the air, and the ebony bird burst out of them with its lustrous wings spread wide. As it glided forward, Elisabeth leaped astride it. However, the raven's nature was to be used for torturing people. It wasn't meant to be ridden. The bird let out a loud caw! of protest at the unexpected weight. Fraught as her attempts at steering it went, Elisabeth did eventually manage to get the raven under control. After catching up to the summoned beasts by some miracle, she decelerated. Eventually, she ended up side by side with her men, causing several of them to notice their captain's arrival. Some of them hung their ears, others balled up their tails, others still slouched awkwardly, and all of them averted their gaze. Elisabeth was livid. They were in no position to go and pretend they hadn't seen her. In fact, she had half a mind to go kick some sense into them, but the other half just barely won out. Instead, she cut through the thick air and made for the front of the pack. She pulled up alongside the fastest of the beasts. "By the look on your face, you already know what a scolding you're about to get... Oy, Lute!" "Captain Elisabeth!" To her surprise, Lute gave her shout an immediate response. He turned and met her eyes. Meanwhile, Randgrof continued clinging tight to his back. He clearly wasn't used to riding the summoned beasts, and his posture was downright precarious. Elisabeth's sleek black hair blew back in the wind as she glared at the two of them. When she shouted, it was directed at them both. "You're an absolute dunce! And that goes for you as well, Randgrof. What the hell do you two think you're doing?!" "We're no dunces, I promise! Please, just hear us out!" Surprisingly, the reply she got back was calm and collected. It seemed they had some sort of plan. She frowned contemplatively, then went quiet for a bit. As the silence wore on, the summoned beasts continued making their way onward. The sound of their spry footsteps overlapped with the noise of the flesh blob's writhing. Lute hurriedly explained himself amid the ever-thickening fumes. "With the Sand Queen's original form, her ears were too far from the ground for us to try calling out to her! But now there's a good chance that her entire body is like a big sensory organ! As Sir Aguina's son, Sir Randgrof's voice may well be able to get through to him! If nothing else, it's worth trying!" "You would try reasoning with that horror?! Aguina's mind is broken! This is no time for naive hopes!" Elisabeth barked back. At the moment, Aguina himself was the one forcing the Sand Queen's corpse to undergo an even more profane transformation than it already had. The situation was far too grim to be expecting any miracles. However, Randgrof felt otherwise. "I'm well aware of that! But the thing is, my father was obsessed with blood purity, and he lamented the future more than any other! It's not his emotions I'm counting on—it's his sense of reason and his broken thought processes!" Elisabeth narrowed her eyes. It was true that Aguina was one of most fanatical blood purists there was. That was the whole reason he'd become an enemy of the world. It stood to reason that a pureblood voice—one that shared his own bloodline, no less—would carry special weight with him. Even so, the odds of success were slim. Elisabeth started to go on. "But, even so—" "And more importantly, as things are, we're of no use in the fight. So...this is fine," Randgrof said firmly. He was prepared to place his own life on the scales of victory to try and tilt them in their favor. Elisabeth narrowed her eyes once more. Randgrof had a point. She herself had realized the same thing. The counterweights are practically weightless. The Sand Queen's body had melted away, and her new form was simply absorbing their poison arrows. There was nothing for the small folk to do. Lute and Randgrof were nothing more than powerless pawns, and in the grand scheme of things, them dying would change nothing. In contrast, the Three Kings of the Forest were heavily wounded, and every bit of stamina they had to expend cost them dearly. There was value in having Lute and Randgrof put their lives on the line to test this idea of theirs. However, that was only true if the person performing the calculus had no feelings at all. Elisabeth clamped her mouth shut, and when she opened it, it was the Torture Princess who spoke. "I've no intention of dying alongside you, you know." "Of course! We knew that all along, ma'am, and we leave the Fremd Torturchen to you!" "And what do you intend to do about Ain? About your child?" That question, however, came from Elisabeth. A certain rational goatwoman healer rose to the forefront of her mind, as did the eagerly awaited child now gestating in her womb. Lute's snout contorted in anguish. However, he glared forward with steel in his eyes. His gaze was fixed on the hideous flesh blob writhing before them. As he spoke, he pointed at the comprehension-defying quagmire of a battle raging on before them. "I'm sure Ain will understand. Well, no. She'll be furious. But she'll see why it was necessary. If that monstrosity is still here when the Fremd Torturchen arrives, our future will be consumed by darkness. And besides, it's not just me. Sir Randgrof has a boy and a girl, too. We all do. Yet we came to this fatal battle anyway—to secure a future for those very same children." His words were foolish, there was no mistaking that. It was an absurd thing for someone as powerless as him to say. However, Elisabeth knew. Most of their world's people clung desperately to life in the ugliest way imaginable. Nobody wanted to die. They would kill others, they would drench themselves in blood, and they would shout at the top of their lungs. I don't want to die / So you should die instead / You should die in my place / Someone other than me should die It was all perfectly illogical. However, the fact that the fear of death could overcome any and all morals was plain enough to see. That was what had ultimately led to an avenger sitting in the judge's chair. Everything that had gone down had happened because of the three races' sins. Even in a world like theirs, though, there were still some people who were willing to throw themselves to the wolves in order to protect those who needed protecting. Who could possibly mock resolve and determination such as theirs? How could they, in a world where nobody wanted to die, and where everything was loathsome, and where people killed each other? "That's right, we've made our choice!" "We are the Peace Brigade, and it is our pride to serve at the pleasure of Lady Valisisa Ula Forstlast and Captain Elisabeth Le Fanu! We know what it is we need to protect!" "Please, Captain, let us do this!" This is our chance, her men pled desperately. It was aggravating, how shrewd their blunt sincerity could be. However, Elisabeth gritted her teeth. Her men had decided to do everything that was in their power. They'd chosen to fight to the bitter end. That meant that this entire act was their story. Elisabeth pursed her lips. She cast her gaze downward and recalled something. It was a thought she'd had some time ago. The soldiers who'd survived Ragnarok seemed to carry a certain sense of guilt, and perhaps because of that, they were generally kind to her. However, Elisabeth had done her best to keep to herself. If she wanted to best protect the world, she knew it would be best to avoid nurturing new bonds. There was no way of knowing whom or what she would eventually have to sacrifice. Now, though, Elisabeth was struck with a bitter realization. I was mistaken, completely and utterly. Now, it was precisely because she was proud of them with all her heart that she was able to make the decision to send them to their deaths. Elisabeth nodded—and her expression did a complete about-face. The grin she wore now

was majestic and cruel. With it, she laughed off both their tragic resolve and her pained decision. "Very well! If you wish it that dearly, then live as you please, and race on unfettered! Your death is yours to die! Now, be proud, for the Torture Princess rides with you, and laughs at any and all! Onward, I say, onward and onward and onward yet more! Even if none grant you leave, even if none recognize your deeds, follow your hearts and bet all you have on that slimmest of chances anyhow!" "Of course, ma'am! As members of the Peace Brigade serving under Captain Elisabeth, we wouldn't have it any other way!" "The odds may be long, but we'll be damned if we don't beat them anyway!" One after another, they drew their swords, and the sound of blades leaving sheaths filled the air. Elisabeth did likewise and drew Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal. The flesh blob turned its attention their way, but Elisabeth swung down her sword without a moment's hesitation anyway. Lute took that as his signal, and he let out a battle cry. *** They all sped up. Just as the boy who'd once waved his hand did. All to protect those who needed protecting. The flesh blob swung one of its arms. The subordinate riding to Elisabeth's right had his torso blown clean off. Just like before, the flesh blob was practically toying with the Three Kings of the Forest. This time, though, it had turned a few of its arms on the Peace Brigade. The fleshy tentacles' insides were lined with teeth, and due to the speed they traveled at, merely so much as brushing up against them was enough to shave through the beastfolk's body with comical ease. Flesh and blood sprayed through the air. In the blink of an eye, it was over. By the time his insides started spilling out, the attack was already finished. Organs tumbled out of his body as his lower half continued onward. However, his legs soon convulsed and sent him tumbling to the ground. Several of the others glanced over at the man who'd fallen victim, but none of them made to stop their summoned beasts. Elisabeth didn't so much as look back. And thus, they rode on. Another arm came their way. This time, it was a sheep-headed soldier who was reduced to nothing more than meat. He was the one who'd once smiled cheerily and said, "We all know how much you love to eat!" Elisabeth would never get another chance to angrily threaten to dock his pay. They would never laugh together or talk to each other again. Even so, nobody stopped. If they stopped to scream, the dead would have died in vain. So they all charged onward. Charge, charge, charge, charge, charge, charge! Don't look back. Cry not. Bear no regrets. No miraculous salvation is coming. You chose this knowing that full well. All you can do now is do what you resolved to do, even in the midst of hell. A vast shadow loomed over Elisabeth and the Peace Brigade's charge. They were getting closer to the flesh blob, and the arms—perhaps sensing danger—shifted up their pattern. They began obstinately focusing all their efforts on Elisabeth. New tentacles swooped in at her from all directions. "You would aim at me, even unconsciously? Well, I daresay you'd best stop underestimating the Torture Princess!" Elisabeth chopped off the arm straight ahead of her. For the two arms behind her, she conjured up chains to dash them against the ground, then used her raven to dodge the myriad ones on her flanks. Her elaborate flight path caused the arms to all get tangled up in each other, and Elisabeth pulled well ahead of them. "Gi...... Guuuuuu...... Uuuuuuuuuu........." As soon as she did, a bizarre voice rose up. Just like before, though, it quickly exceeded the range people could hear. Elisabeth looked and discovered that the flesh blob had caught the white deer right as the King was about to topple over. Waves of flesh undulated across the blob as it gradually ate away at its foe. Elisabeth knew they couldn't afford to forsake the white deer. She snapped her fingers and deployed a new spell. "Cat's Paw." Five eddies of crimson petals and darkness manifested in the air. A pointed, rake-shaped implement extended out from each one. The implements got to work tearing at the flesh blob from all sides. Then they sank deep into its surface, and once they got far enough in, they froze in place and held the flesh blob still like a pair of forceps. The white deer kicked desperately with its forelegs. Eventually, it managed to wriggle away from the blob. Once it was free, the ancient wolf lashed out once more. It stuck its arm in the flesh blob's newly opened section and used what remained of its bony fingers to scratch away at the blob's insides. It was trying to find the blob's mana reactor so it could puncture and destroy it. The flesh blob struggled in what looked like agitation, and a moment later, a bombardment from the saints exploded across its surface. Apparently, some of them were still up and fighting. Elisabeth was surprised; she'd have thought that they'd have thrown in the towel by now. Given the animosity La Filsell had shown her, this was well outside her expectations. She muttered a few dazed words of praise. "I'm impressed you all would surpass your limits so..." The flesh blob screamed and thrashed violently in agony. That sent out a series of tremors. However, the Peace Brigade's summoned beasts managed to endure them. They swayed precariously but continued rushing onward nonetheless. Taking care not to let any of its finger bones break, the ancient wolf mashed its arm in even harder. Then a muffled snapping sound rang out. "What?" "Don't let your guard down, you dimwit!" Lute reacted with surprise, and Elisabeth let out a shout. Her aerial vantage point had let her see everything. The blob's arms had circled around the ancient wolf's back and pierced the King's chest through. They writhed within the ancient wolf's body as though to return the favor. Then they ripped something out and cast it aside. That something was the ancient wolf's still-beating heart. It toppled emphatically to the ground, crushing some ten beastfolk as it landed. Blood gushed from its arteries and ran between the trees. Ridiculously enough, the heart cast a glittering rainbow trail in the empty sky above it. The ancient wolf looked up high to the heavens. They slowly lowered their gaze. The King surveyed the beastfolk around them. After casting an affectionate look at them, it apologetically closed its eyes. One of the Kings was still now. A scream rose up as the beastfolk collectively cried out. However, Lute and the others didn't grieve, and they didn't stop. If anything, they did the opposite. At this point, there was nothing they would pause for. No matter what happened, they would never break their stride. "Fan out!" As the blob drew nearer, Lute raised his arm and gave an order. The remaining twelve men quickly heeded it and split into four groups. At the center of the four, Lute and Randgrof rode alone. Now that the arms had downed the ancient wolf, there were far more of them to spare. They lunged at Lute and the others, and Elisabeth pinned them down with her Cat's Paws. She had already burned through the majority of her mana reserves, so deploying a third torture device was out of the question. Instead, she summoned even more Paws. She knew that if their titanic foe managed to roll over on them, it would wipe them out. By anchoring down the main body, the Torture Princess was able to hold the arms in place as well. However, several of the arms split off. One particularly thick arm swung down toward Elisabeth. *** There was no time to dodge, and it was too powerful to block. Upon realizing that, Elisabeth focused her attention on the arm in front of her. She held Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal aloft and plunged it into the arm. Then she forced her raven onward, carving through the fleshy arm from within. "HraaaaaHHHHHHHHH!" With that, she sliced the arm in twain vertically down the middle. Venom spilled out and completely drenched her clothing. Her flesh burned as she fell back. Ignoring the searing pain all across her body, she focused a healing spell on her lungs and her lungs alone. Then she turned her gaze back up. There were other arms swinging at Lute and the rest as well. However, their aim was lacking. The Peace Brigade nimbly steered their summoned beasts and dodged the blows. Once they did, though, one of the arms headed straight for Lute and Randgrof. It started picking up speed. Then a sword sank into the arm with a thunk. The black-and-white-spotted Brigade member had thrown his weapon, and the arm changed its target. The black-and-white-short-haired soldier was a man who prided himself on his composure. He murmured a quick beastfolk prayer. Then he went on. "Ah...damn it all. It looks like this is as far as I go. My apologies for jumping ship early." He gave them a weak smile. A moment later, his torso went flying off. He would never get the chance to follow another order. Elisabeth kicked aside the chunks of blob arm still lying on her. As she did, she saw more men die in her peripheral vision. Her bull- and goat-headed subordinates crumpled to the ground, summoned beasts and all. Elisabeth totaled up the rest, her internal monologue practically a scream. Only...nine remain! She forced her raven to change course. They flew at a blistering clip. By that point, Elisabeth had fully mastered how to manipulate her avian mount. She soared freely through the air, dancing circles around each of the arms and baiting—forcing—them to turn their focus on her. Her young, coyote-headed subordinate with his distinctive notched ear couldn't help but let out a yelp. "Captain, you can't! It's too dangerous!" "Look at me, I'm right here! Come and try me! Kill me, if you can! See if you can lay the Torture Princess low!" Elisabeth flew, higher and higher and higher still. Waves of arms gave close pursuit. The fleshy tentacles surged at her as one. If they caught her, there would be no way for her to avoid being mashed into a pulp. Then the Torture Princess snapped her fingers. Cat's Paws collapsed down from both sides. The Paws skewered the arms, piercing them all at once and shredding them to bits. Elisabeth took advantage of the opening that provided to descend so fast it looked like she was in free fall. She was out of peril, but getting there had required putting a tremendous strain on her body. She vomited up the blood surging from her stomach, then brutishly wiped her mouth clean. While the Torture Princess had been performing her death-defying dance, the Peace Brigade had continued their charge. Just a little farther and they'd be at the flesh blob. Its vile, pulsating form was right before them, dimly glowing and covered in blood and fat. Just its appearance alone was enough to inspire physiological revulsion in any and all who beheld it. However, Randgrof didn't falter. Instead, he rose to his feet. It clearly took everything he had to maintain that unstable posture atop the summoned beast's back. Then he called out. "Father, please, hear me out! What you're doing won't save our people! Even if you massacre all the humans and beastfolk, all you'd be doing is leaving us for the Fremd Torturchen to slaughter! No one will survive! That's a fact, and if you'd come to your senses, you'd realize it! Listen to me, Father!" And upon hearing his heartfelt, soulful cry, the flesh blob froze for a

second. But only for a second. The blob swung its arms even more violently than before. The sweeping blow came hurtling toward the Peace Brigade. With no time nor ability to stop on a dime, four more of them—including the youngster who'd just shouted—got reduced to carrion. "Sure enough, there's no reasoning with it," Elisabeth muttered grimly. As she did, she noted with some surprise the disappointment in her voice. Although she hadn't consciously realized it, apparently even the Torture Princess had been hoping for a miracle. In a sense, that just went to show how close they'd been. The flesh blob had reacted. Randgrof's voice had gotten through. It hadn't accomplished anything, but even just that much already bordered on miraculous. Aguina was serving as the monster's mind, and by all rights, he shouldn't have been in any state to even process language. However, that wasn't how Randgrof had seen it. His expression was marked deep with dejection and despair. Elisabeth decelerated, then turned toward him and shouted. "Turn back, Randgrof! All you'll do now is throw away more lives! Turn back while you yet draw breath!" "But, I'm not... I can't..." Randgrof hung his head. A moment later, though, he shook his head and fixed his gaze straight ahead. Then he took everyone by surprise by raising his voice and grabbing Lute by the collar. "I'm not finished yet!" "Sir Randgrof, I say, what are you—? WHOA!" "I'm fully aware of how rude I'm being! Forgive me!" With that, Randgrof tossed Lute off their summoned beast's back and grabbed hold of the leather reins himself. However, he had no idea how to properly lead or direct the beast, so he simply resorted to kicking its side. The beast began accelerating at breakneck speeds. Onward and forward Randgrof charged. One of the arms lashed out at him, and he dodged it by the narrowest of margins. However, the next one came barreling at him head-on. Elisabeth gallantly dived in front of it. Her corroded black hair fluttered behind her as she lopped the arm off. As she and Randgrof passed each other by, he gave her a shout. "You have my thanks!" "If you wish to go, then go. 'Tis best to bear no regrets." She could have stopped him. However, she said nothing to that effect. His charge was an act of supreme folly. All that awaited him at its end was death. The Torture Princess knew that. She knew, and she let him go anyway. Elisabeth left Randgrof to gallop on away. Randgrof didn't fear that which awaited him. His own father was the man behind the Sand Queen's transformation, and yet even so, there was no hesitation in Randgrof's expression. It was as though he had always known that his father might someday become a monster. He raced all the way up to the flesh blob and drew his sword from its sheath. Then he raised his arm aloft and hurled his sword at the blob. *** The blade pierced the blob's flesh. Blackened blood trickled down its length. That was enough to get all the blob's eyes to turn and look Randgrof's way. Despite the clear animosity he was facing it with, though, the flesh blob didn't turn its arms on him. Instead, it froze again. Elisabeth had trouble believing it until a certain morsel of information wormed its way out of the depths of her mind. A tranquil song echoed in her ears. —Her ever-closed eyes watch over her sheep —Ensuring all her descendants are honest and true and good and resplendent —Please, my queen, know it is true, believe in us as we believe in you The blob is a monster that sees all, to be sure... ...but it was also an entity that cast judgment on all those it observed. To wit, because the song influenced it and provided the inspiration for its transformation... This was no miracle. Nothing of the sort. The monster had always retained both the ability to look at people and the intellect necessary to cast judgment on them. And Randgrof was no beastfolk. He was an honest, true, good, resplendent descendant of the Sand Queen. And on top of that, he was Aguina's son. The flesh blob's eyes widened even further, then spun in their sockets. It didn't know what to do. Eventually, it decided to simply get out of Randgrof's way. It reached its arms toward the wounded white deer. Before it had a chance to avert its gaze from him, though, Randgrof made his move. He pulled something out from his pocket. This time, Elisabeth felt as though she heard her own voice echo back in her ears. "'Tis a wretched sight when one tries to kill themselves by blade and fails to finish the job." "I won't fail. What son of yours ever would?" Randgrof laughed. He held his knife at the ready. His hands were trembling. "This is the one thing I can do to make sure you don't have to bear that anguish alone. Witness me, Father." And in one clean stroke, Randgrof Elephabred slit his own throat open. Blood gushed forth. Some of it sprayed onto the Sand Queen. The air froze. Or at least, everyone there could have sworn it did. The summoned beast shook its body. Randgrof's corpse, so sorrowfully light, tumbled to the ground. The Sand Queen immediately reached an arm out, catching his chest so gently and delicately it was almost funny. However, doing so caused the arm's teeth to damage it, spreading more and more blood across Randgrof's body. Tears poured from each of the Sand Queen's many eyes. She was grieving the death of an honest, true, good, resplendent descendant. Translucent droplets splashed against the ground. As they did, the colossal hawk drilled its beak forward once more. However, the Queen ignored the attack against her person. Her body shook. Then something rose up to its surface from within. A new transformation was taking place. When she saw what was happening, Elisabeth gasped. A key change had taken place in the flesh blob. Now a male figure was rising up on part of its surface. Based on the amount of mana contained within, Elisabeth immediately understood what had happened. The direct spiritual hit she'd suffered had caused the source of the Sand Queen's mana to change its shape and make an appearance. Now the part of her she'd kept so deeply hidden away was out in the open. The man-shaped core tried desperately to reach out its arms. However, it was unable to reach even the corpse immediately beside it. Its hands drifted helplessly through the air. And that was when a bellow rang out. *** Lute rushed forward, shouting at the top of his lungs. He dashed at the flesh blob with sword in hand. It was a sad, pathetic attempt at a battle charge. Everything had happened so suddenly that Lute hadn't even had time to put together a plan. His mad dash had come far too late. The man was about to recede back into the fleshy depths, and that would spell their doom. They were out of options—or so it seemed. But instead of faltering, Lute called out to Aguina. "I've been meaning to tell you—we're expecting." The man came to an abrupt stop. He looked back and forth between Lute and Randgrof's corpse. In the end, his gaze settled on his son. Lute's blade drew ever closer to him. However, the man didn't move. He just waited for the blow that would mark his execution. Lute continued onward toward his unmoving opponent. When he spoke next, there was no falsehood in his voice. "You prayed for us to be blessed with a healthy child, and that's something I will never forget." The blade struck true. Lute's slash cleaved the thing shaped like Aguina in half from top to bottom. In that moment, the Queen's parts continued moving. However, her reactor itself was destroyed. That was too close for comfort, Elisabeth thought from atop her raven. If she, the white deer, or the colossal hawk had tried to destroy Aguina, he merely would have retreated back into the blob. Just now, though, he had allowed the slash to cut him clean in two. And it was all because Lute was the one who'd called out to him. They were both fathers, and that was what had sealed the deal. The man-shaped figure trembled, then melted away. All of a sudden, the flesh blob swelled up. Its skin grew taut, and blood vessels began bulging up on its surface. This was different from the earlier transformations. This was a destructive growth—growth that signaled its demise. Lute hurried back. However, he didn't make it in time, and one of his arms got caught in the expanding flesh. He struggled like his life depended on it. He even kicked and punched the flesh, but all that accomplished was getting one of his feet trapped as well. Elisabeth forced her raven into a nosedive. If she used a Cat's Paw, she could cut around Lute and free him from the blob. She quickly conjured up a rope. It was the exact same trick she'd used back when Lute fell on his backside. "You saved us!" she shouted. "Now, get on back here yourself, Lute!" "Oh, what a shameful way for me to get caught!" After sharing pretty much the exact same exchange they had earlier, Elisabeth wound the rope around his wrist. This time, though, a staggering amount of force yanked her forward. The intensity with which the flesh blob was trying to swallow Lute up was simply too great. Elisabeth fell over, and the force from the impact caused her raven to crash-land. She found herself getting dragged toward the blob, so she plunged her sword into the ground in an attempt to resist. However, the handle slipped out of her blood-slick grasp. Lute stared at her. The blob had already swallowed half of his body. A determined expression crossed his face, and he reached his arm out as far as it could go. Then, after snatching hold of the belt around Elisabeth's neck, he hurled her as far away as he possibly could. It was like it was all some sort of gag. "You! Utter! Fool!" "I leave the rest to you, Madam...no, rather, Sir Kaito's beloved—as well as our beloved Captain Elisabeth!" Lute spoke with a look of clear relief, and just like that, the flesh blob swallowed him up. Elisabeth landed hard and tumbled violently across the ground. She quickly raised her wounded face and stared blankly at the scene before her. Like it or not, she could tell exactly what had happened. My raven was swallowed up, too. I shan't have the mana to deploy any meaningful torture devices for some time. In short, she had no way of saving Lute. She dragged her venom- and crash-landing-battered body to its feet and began walking. The retreat she was beating was a pathetic one hardly befitting the Torture Princess. But as she tripped over her own feet, she hurried on anyway. Even as she coughed up blood, she ran away like a woman possessed. Those who owed their lives to another had a duty to fight. Stopping and putting down her burden was an option denied to her. Somehow or other, she managed to get out of range. Her vision blurred as blood dripped down into her eyes. As she rubbed them the way a child would, she looked up and observed the flesh blob's final transformation. The blob swelled and swelled and swelled, and, with a pop, it burst. Afterward, all that remained was the foul sea of flesh expanding outward. 6 A Promise to Play I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I was a bad girl I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm bad and wrong and I'm a spoiled little brat whose

brain is more rotten than garbage, please don't hit me I'll do anything I swear so so? I have to say I'm sorry. Until they forgive me. But see, there was one person who said I wasn't bad. So I'm not scared anymore. You promised, remember? You said that I was your daughter. That's right. There was someone who told me stories. Someone who stroked my hair. But now there isn't. Father died. Father was killed. Father asked me for something. Please, daughter, carry out my dream for me. I know. I know, you know? I know that really and truly, Father hated everything. He thought everything hurt, and everything was awful, and everything was horrible, and everything was scary. It's okay. Only I know. And I know that Father put up with it anyway. He endured for such a very long time. So it's all right. It's all right, right? There was someone who loved me. There was someone who stroked my hair. There was someone who forgave me. He was the first person in all the world who did that. And this is what he wanted. This is what I want. So, please, everyone, let's all please die together. There was a place, and in that place, there was a peerless sinner. She tortured the entire population of her fiefdom and killed them. In the end, her sins reached even the nobles. Everyone cast stones at her. They resented, hated, and despised her. Loathsome Elisabeth, repulsive Elisabeth, cruel, hideous Elisabeth! A curse upon you, a curse upon you, a curse, a curse, an eternal curse upon you, Elisabeth! It made complete sense. No matter how many good deeds she racked up, it meant nothing to the dead. No day would ever come where her sins would be washed clean. But there was a boy who told her he loved her, and a simple beastman who called her his beloved captain. They didn't call the Torture Princess "the Torture Princess." To them, the Torture Princess was just Elisabeth. And now both of them were gone. In the grander scheme of things, it meant nothing. That was all that the story had to it. Elisabeth slowly sat up. Her body was in pretty rough shape. Due to the venom, her body was corroded all over. Her skin was covered in open wounds, and her black hair lay in uneven tatters. All of her usual beauty had been marred with injuries. Furthermore, her mana reserves were greatly diminished. Fortunately, she had enough left to support her demon meat-infused body, but that was all. Compared to the mana she normally had at her disposal, she was all but running on empty. It was almost like that time in the Capital, right after she'd finished defeating the three merged demons. This time, though, things were different. This time, there were people she knew among the fallen. Over half of the people who'd looked up to her had perished. However, that wasn't for the Torture Princess to lament. She had no right to value some of the dead more than others. Knowing that, she allowed herself one small utterance. "Ha, some heartless killer I turned out to be. I couldn't even kill the one who needed killing on my own." After a few moments of silence, Elisabeth spat out the chunk of flesh lodged in her throat. During her flight, she had accidentally bit the inside of her mouth. She silently looked at the sky. The Sand Queen was dead. Off in the distance, Elisabeth could hear the white deer and colossal hawk wailing. Both of them had survived. However, it was unclear whether or not they would recover from their wounds. The beastfolk joined their lament. They had enough sorrow to go around. Then Elisabeth heard her name. "Captain Elisabeth!" "Are you all right, Cap...tain?" It was her surviving men. The four haggard beastfolk rushed over to her, but when they saw the state she was in, her subordinates went silent. They exchanged glances with each other. When they spoke next, it was all at once, and with renewed passion. """We won, Captain Elisabeth!""" "We did it... We did it! With this, those we lost will have their reward. Hold your head high, ma'am. We fought, and we won. Surely this is an occasion for joy." Their voices rang with enthusiasm, but Elisabeth could tell. The things they were saying weren't coming from the heart. They were just trying to cheer her up. It made her wonder—up until then, had she ever been in as sorry a state as she was at the moment? And at the same time, there was something she was painfully aware of. The dead receive no reward. Once someone died, that was it for them. Absolute as that truth was, though, Elisabeth didn't give voice to it. There were things the dead had accomplished, and that fact was just as irrefutable. Denying that aspect of it would do nothing to change what had happened. Also, Elisabeth wasn't nearly so tactless as to shut down her subordinates when they were going out of their way to try to encourage her. And even if she was, there was no time She looked straight forward and brought up a different topic altogether. "The Three Kings should still be able to serve as shields... You lot, take the beastfolk and demi-human survivors and have the Kings give you cover as you flee. Go now, and don't tarry." "What? Captain, what's going on? Using the Three Kings of the Forest as shields... What are you talking about?" "If the attacks come, they're the only ones who'll be able to protect you! Enough questions, just go!" Elisabeth shouted. Her flustered subordinates sprang into action, following her orders and passing the message along to what remained of the army. The four of them were skilled professionals. They would be able to get the survivors to safety. Instead of watching them go, Elisabeth glared at the ground. There was a rose blooming atop it—a peculiar little flower interspersed with azure and crimson petals both. Clear droplets sat atop it like little tears. Then the petals all fell off, as though the flower had used up the last of its strength. The bits of azure and crimson rose drifted slowly toward the ground, then melted away before they could land. Elisabeth knew. Like it or not, she understood exactly what it meant. It meant the Saint was dead. The Torture Princess's crimson eyes darkened, and she let out a low murmur. "Despair is on the move." Her voice rang with ridicule, as though mocking herself for expecting anything more of the world. Deep in an abyss at the World's End, the Saint died by Alice's hand. However, the Saint's quick defeat hadn't been caused by her own strength running out. There was a different reason behind it. Now, after the fact, Elisabeth realized what that was. The Sand Queen was a corpse, and corpses couldn't feel pain. But feel it or not, the wounds inflicted on her flesh were converted into pain anyway. And all of it, along with all the pain she inflicted on others, was transmitted right on over to Alice, and it had caused Alice's power to grow tremendously. Not only was the Sand Queen a powerful weapon, she had also served as a trap. By fighting her, Elisabeth and the others had been all but strangling the Saint themselves. Still, there was no other way. The three races had no strength to spare. If they hadn't dealt with the Sand Queen, the blow she would have dealt them would have been lethal. Furthermore, Alice was always going to show up sooner or later, and there was no way they could've taken on her and the Sand Queen at the same time. Even as things actually played out, there was a good chance they would've lost if not for Randgrof and Lute. However... ...the fact remains that a person died because of what we did. That tragic woman hadn't even given them her name. Had better options been available to them? There was no way of knowing. Elisabeth shook her head. She gave her fingers a harsh snap—in part to clear her mind—and drew Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal from the air once more. She thrust its blade into the ground to help herself rise to her feet. Then she heard a new pair of voices calling her from behind. "Madam Elisabeth!" "You're in an even worse state than I expected. Don't you go keeling over on me now, girl." Izabella and Jeanne rushed over to her. Their Waltz was a technique designed for fighting in close quarters, so they would have been poorly matched against the flesh blob. Upon determining that, Elisabeth had chosen not to call on their aid during the battle. Now that she looked at them, though, she noticed that both of their mana reserves were a bit lower than she'd expected. On top of that, they were both splattered with blood. It begged the question—why? Izabella was quick to explain. "A couple of the saints hit their limits during that last bombardment. We immediately teleported them out and gave them emergency treatment, but their conditions are still critical. Jeanne and I gave them blood and mana transfusions, and that was enough to get them stable, but still... But then! Just now there was a rose!" "Ah, I see... You got one, too, then," Elisabeth replied to Izabella's puzzled outburst. By the sound of it, a rose had sprouted at her location, too. The Saint must have wanted to inform Izabella of her death as well. Elisabeth brushed her shredded black hair back off her shoulder. Her finger grazed the bit of white bone peeking out from her jaw. Still looking like death on two legs, she closed her eyes. She thought back over all the stories Alice had told her up until then. As she ruminated on the scattered bits and pieces she knew about the Wonderland tale, she realized something. Our game with the Queen is over. Now the protagonist—Alice—will make her return. Alice knew exactly how the Sand Queen fought, and she probably knew exactly where she was, too. There was no doubt in Elisabeth's mind that Alice would make her way to the same spot, destroying towns and villages on her way like she was skipping stones. Alice was pure and innocent, and she'd been fixated on Elisabeth for some time now. There was no reason to assume that had changed. In short, she was going to show up at any moment. Knowing that, Elisabeth did something very unlike her and opened her mouth up wide. Her voice rang beautiful and sonorous as she recited the poem she'd since memorized. "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall! Humpty Dumpty had a great fall! "All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again." There was something that couldn't be put back together. Something broken that was coming their way. To. Fro. Chitter. Chatter. There were voices. Throngs of people sobbing and screaming and trembling. Someone was loudly screaming. Their voice rang with terror. Someone else lamented the incoming calamity, their tone that of a person dashing through a field with deranged abandon and laughing their head off. "It's the end of days all over again." And there, in that place that seemed halfway between a nightmare and reality, a young girl appeared. She spoke with a voice like an angel's. "Come now, let's be good girls and sing a song. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!" That mysterious monster, surely, had to be Alice herself. Sara Yuuki had become Alice, and now she was the Jabberwock. Right as the observation began tickling Elisabeth's brain, Alice landed and did a little twirl. She stopped singing and faced Elisabeth. The white rabbit-ear-like ribbons attached to her oversized hat swayed

from side to side. Just like Alice had once before, she bent one knee and gave Elisabeth an elegant curtsy. "Welcome, Elisabeth. Welcome to Wonderland." It was an odd thing for her to say. After all, she was the person who'd arrived latest out of anyone there. Yet she said it loudly and proudly. Alice was there, and that was what made it Wonderland. She raised her voice. "Come on, Elisabeth! Let's play!" She sounded positively bubbly. It was like she didn't have a care in the world. Elisabeth pursed her lips at the irony of it all. Then she replied in a voice heavy with exhaustion. "Is that truly what you want? To destroy the world?" Alice blinked at the question. Drops of blood trickled down her eyelashes. Due perhaps to some odd fastidiousness of hers, her hair, hat, and ribbons were as white as ever. However, the rest of her body was drenched in the Saint's blood. The crimson little girl gave the question some serious thought. Eventually, she came up with an answer. "There's nothing I myself want to do, no. Nope, not a single thing. The one thing I want is to carry out Father's wish. But...there is one thing I want to ask, maybe." Alice looked straight at Elisabeth, and Elisabeth found herself reflected in the girl's ruby eyes. Eventually, Alice hacked her question up like so much blood. "Why should I have to be the only one who loses Father? Kaito Sena's Elisabeth is still alive, isn't she?!" The pained question hung in the air. Alice spread her arms out wide. She was facing the Torture Princess, but the question wasn't directed at Elisabeth. Alice had directed it at Kaito Sena, or perhaps even at the world itself. "Why me?! We're the same, we're both reincarnations! We both came from another world! So why?!" Her face contorted like she was about to cry. However, the very question was absurd. Those weren't the words of someone trying to destroy the world. Plus, the fixed batteries had been reincarnations as well, and that hadn't stopped her from using them the way she had. But whether Elisabeth wanted to or not, she understood. This wasn't about sin and punishment. Alice is... Sara Yuuki is but a child. Her death had filled her with a profound hopelessness, but it was still unclear how well she understood just how tragic her life had truly been. Despite the deep void in her heart, most of what she'd done and said had been happy. In all likelihood, Alice had honestly enjoyed herself. It was just like how Kaito Sena had found a family in his new world. She, too, had found a father. She had found someone who loved her. But now he's gone. Lewis was dead. Alice was alive. That cruel truth was her everything. And Elisabeth realized something. Sure enough, the reason for Alice's animosity toward the world was the simplest thing imaginable, yet was rooted in a heavy truth. "Someone she wished was alive had been killed." That, as always, was what gave rise to the flag called revenge. However, Alice wasn't the only one who'd lost people. 'Tis but a tale from long, long ago. Once upon a time, there was a boy who was brutally killed by another and a monster who brutally killed others. Or perhaps there was a child who was abandoned by his parents and a sinner who was abandoned by the world. Then the child disappeared. Only the sinner remained. "I am your reverse, then. Kaito Sena did not lose Elisabeth, true. But I lost Kaito Sena. The child is gone, and the monster remains alone. And yet, even so. He tried to protect everything, so I have a duty to protect it in his...stead. Ah. So... So that's it." Elisabeth trailed off. Another realization had just dawned on her. Perhaps...we're the same. Alice was trying to carry out Lewis's wish. And Elisabeth was trying to protect those who Kaito had left behind. That was all. They were the same, she and her. The only difference was whether the person they cared about had loved the world or hated it. And unlike Alice, Elisabeth realized something. By now, there was nobody left who knew how they had spent their days. But the sinner was fine with that. No matter what happened, no matter how tough things got, she was fine with that. The sinner and the boy used to be together. That was enough for her. "In short, what I'm saying is—your grief means nothing to me." "...Is this some sort of joke?" Alice's red eyes went wide at Elisabeth's reply, and the force from the mana surging within her caused her white hair to floof outward. One of the blood drops that fell off her took on the shape of a small mouse, and it looked up at Elisabeth with a sleepy-looking grin. However, the Torture Princess was unmoved. She stomped the mouse flat. "I assure you, it isn't. Go on, look back. Just once will do. You've piled up mountains of corpses and inflicted pain upon countless people. If anyone has a right to call this situation nonsensical, surely it's those you've made victims of." "See, I knew you were joking. Why, what could it have been but a joke?" Elisabeth was all too aware that in Alice's eyes, there was nothing wrong with what Lewis had asked her to do. She simply had no grasp of the gravity of the sins she was committing. She was pitiable, in a sense, but there was no way to save her now. In all likelihood, Alice herself probably didn't even want to be saved. There was only one person who had ever loved and accepted her. Maybe she could have found more, but at this point, Alice would probably deny the possibility if anyone pointed it out to her. Knowing that, Elisabeth's tone remained cold. "I shall say one more thing, then. You said that you and he were 'the same,' but what similarities can you even claim to have? What of this world did you ever love? What did you protect? No, 'tis you and I who are the same. But Kaito Sena is different. He tried to protect everything. He loved everyone, knowing full well how foolish it was to do so. Why, he gave himself up to save a wretch like me. You are nothing like that fool, and I shan't suffer you to say otherwise." "Oh, is that so? I wasn't even given a chance to save Father. So you've got a lot of nerve, ma'am. We're the exact same, can't you see?! Elisabeth, Kaito Sena, and I—we're all the same!" All of a sudden, Alice's voice rose to a bellow. Tears streamed from her eyes, but it wasn't sadness that colored her expression. It was plainly rage. She was putting her hatred toward the world on display for all to see. She cried harder and harder as she went on. "Our fates were a little different, that's all! You could have become just like I did! So...so why? Why should I be the only one who has to suffer?! Why?! Why?!" Elisabeth nodded. "True enough. You represent a future that could well have been ours, I grant you that." There was a certain logic to Alice's claim. If Elisabeth had died for nothing, Kaito Sena might have come to hate the world as well—and that went doubly so if Hina hadn't been around. Plus, the same could be said of Elisabeth, too. Who knows what she might have done if Kaito had died cursing the world. It was as one would their confidante, or their brother, or their savior. As one would a kind, incorrigible fool— As one would any whom they ought to love— Elisabeth Le Fanu loved Kaito Sena. And Alice Carroll loved Lewis. Hers was another form Kaito and Elisabeth might have taken. And yet, even so... "Don't you dare dream that your pain serves as justification for those you're trying to kill." I'm hurting / So I'm going to kill you / I'm hateful / I'm going to kill you / I'm sad / Kill you By all rights, that line of reasoning was unforgivable. Elisabeth brandished her sword. "Cease in this path of yours. Elsewise, I shall slay you." Alice gave her a majestic smile. Elisabeth laughed right back at her. Then a duo of silver and gold took their places by her side. It was Izabella and Jeanne. The two of them moved in to help keep Elisabeth's battered body upright. "Don't forget, we're here as well." "That we are. Win or lose, this here's our fight, too." The two of them were no match for Alice. However, neither Izabella nor Jeanne showed any signs of backing down. The three of them and the Fremd Torturchen squared off. And when they did, a stillness descended that seemed to last for an eternity. Eventually, Alice broke the silence. She spoke softly. "That's very bold of you. You know you're weaker than me. Bold indeed, I say." "Aye," Elisabeth replied. "We are weak. But if we fail to stop you, 'twill be our heads that roll. That's all there is to it." "I suppose you're right. You're doing the same thing I am." Alice gave them a cherubic smile and crossed her hands behind her back. Then she gave her head a little tilt, swaying from side to side as she went on in a singsong voice. "I'm going to kill you and lop your sinful heads right off. I'll make rivers of blood and mountains of bodies and burn everything to ash. And once I'm done killing...I'm going to go smash Kaito Sena's crystal." Alice opened her red eyes disconcertingly wide. However, her gaze itself was serene and unclouded. The look in her eyes was fair, but the words coming from her mouth were anything but. "Kaito Sena has God and Diablo in him, but... But I don't need them as a deterrent anymore. So the best thing to do is to break them. And when Kaito Sena dies, the world will come to an end. What do you think, Elisabeth? Doesn't that sound lovely?" "You plan on destroying the crystal, releasing God and Diablo, and bringing about the reconstruction? How very efficient of you." Elisabeth simply gave Alice's suggestion the nod. There was no denying it—if she wanted to destroy the world, that was the logical way to go about it. Alice went on with great delight. "I even know where the crystal is already. You either put it back at the World's End or you moved it to your castle, right? It's okay, you don't have to tell me. Wherever it is, I'll destroy it." "'Tis at the World's End, in the cave where Ragnarok was fought. I returned it from whence it came." "Goodness me, how forthcoming you're being. Very well. Whether you're lying or telling the truth, it'll all end the same way." "One thing, though, Alice. You say you intend to enact slaughter on a grand scale. How about we play a game first?" Elisabeth asked offhandedly. Alice squinted at her. Then she laughed, as though mocking Elisabeth for even suggesting such a thing. She replied haughtily and with as sinister of an expression as could be. "But I just have to kill you and everyone else, Elisabeth. You're not even the Queen of Hearts, and you think you have the right to challenge me to a game?" "I do. For I intend to bet my whole self. For Kaito's sake, I cast myself onto the scales. Are you so base as to ignore such an act? O daughter of Lewis?" One of Alice's eyebrows sprang up. She put a stop to the spell she was about to unleash. Then she asked Elisabeth to elaborate. "All right, then... Tell me the rules. I'll hear you out, Elisabeth."

"I shall be the White Rabbit. You shall be Alice. Your goal is to pursue me. I, and I alone, shall fight you all the way to the World's End. If I kill you on the way there, the win is mine. If you kill me and reach the crystal, the win is yours. In exchange, though, you shan't lay a hand on another living soul." "Ah, I see. Well, that's fine. I'll just kill them later. What about the people who help you, though?" "...Any who choose to involve themselves of their own volition are fair game. If you wish to kill them, then so be it. But you have to agree to leave everything else until afterward." That was the promise Elisabeth hoped to get out of Alice. And there was a pressing reason behind her proposal. Once Alice began her massacre, the world was done for. The Fremd Torturchen had finally become everything Lewis had hoped she would. It was similar to what would happen if Kaito Sena had wanted to destroy the world. Alice might not have been quite on his level, but what she'd been on the verge of starting was certainly in the same ballpark. For now, Elisabeth needed to delay Alice's rampage for as long as she could. "As the Torture Princess, I've gone all in—how could the Fremd Torturchen possibly reject my wager?" "All right, Elisabeth. If you're willing to insist that hard, I'll play with you. I do want to give you an extra-special death, after all. For starters, you should go on back to the Capital—and when the time comes, I'll chase you." And with that, Alice accepted Elisabeth's invitation to the stage. Then she vanished. Leaving behind nothing but a promise to play a twisted game. Alice was gone. All that remained where she'd stood was a vast, devastated wasteland. Elisabeth let out a small exhale. She surreptitiously wiped away her sweat. That was close... It could all have ended right then and there. She was running on empty at the moment, and Izabella and Jeanne didn't stand a chance against Alice on their own. If Alice had killed Elisabeth, then turned her attention to the others—Izabella and Jeanne, the beastfolk, the Three Kings of the Forest, and the backup saints—and began her slaughter, they would all have been done for. The mere fact that Elisabeth had managed to secure that promise from her had been a stroke of good fortune. If nothing else, they had gained the new leeway that the game afforded them. At the same time, though, all that had done was delay their execution. Jeanne narrowed her eyes a bit, then tilted her head with the same expressionless look on her face as always. "What are you up to, you inscrutable lady? Buyin' us time ain't gonna be enough for us to take Alice down. It doesn't make much difference when we get smoked, you feel me? You got some sorta idea cookin' in that head of yours?" "Nay. But in a way, you could say I do." It was kind of an absurd thing for Elisabeth to say, given the imminent peril they were in. The women of gold and silver exchanged a glance. Elisabeth squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them back up. The words were all but impossible to believe in. At the moment, there were so few sureties in that world of theirs. Justice had perished long ago. Nothing was truly "good." Everyone was flying the flag of revenge. Places all over had been turned into hells on earth. It was so impossibly hard to find anything worth believing in. And yet even so, Elisabeth spoke. "That woman told me Kaito Sena's True Message." The Saint had stubbornly refused to give them her name. In the end, she'd only opened her mouth a single time more. And from her soft lips, the True Message had come. The Torture Princess relayed it. "'Do whatever you can to buy some time. Even a little will do.'" Just a little longer, Elisabeth. The words were clumsy, and they were fleeting, but at the same time, they represented a definite source of hope. 7 The Young King's Decision It's time for a story about a boy. The boy was a sad little person. He was timid, and cowardly, and gloomy to boot. Normally, it was hard for people like that to live exciting lives. However, this particular boy had been born as the heir apparent to the human throne. Although he himself never wished for anything of the sort, he was forcibly coronated and made to serve as king by those around him. On top of that, the boy didn't have a single person who believed in him. As he lived his solitary life, he ultimately made the choice to give in to his destiny. In the world, there was a single nitwit of a king. With great resignation, the boy chose to live a life that would be mocked in just that way. But the world betrayed that expectation, and the boy's destiny was radically transformed. It's time for a story of a hero. The world once very nearly met a tragic end. However, that seemingly immutable fate was altered by a single person. And the one who accomplished that miraculous feat was a boy who had reincarnated from another world. He got a chance at life, then had a number of experiences, some horrifying and some irreplaceable. Then after a long series of battles, he obtained a colossal amount of mana and used it to save someone precious to him. And while he was at it, he saved the world. By sacrificing himself. After burdening himself with God and Diablo, the boy fell into a deep slumber at the World's End. Thanks to his deeds, the people of the world managed to avoid the apocalypse. The greatest good for the greatest number was, surely, the greatest outcome. One could say they lived happily ever after. As an aside, there was also one little fact. Hardly any knew it, and it was of little true importance. As it turned out, though, the boy—the human king—admired the hero deeply. Thus did the story of admiration and folly and love come to its end. And with it, for the first time, the story of Maclaeus Filliana the Craven King began. "It was the first time I ever had something I wanted to become. It was the first time I'd ever admired someone like that." "It was the first time I realized that it didn't matter that no one else believed in me." "I just had to become someone that I could believe in." "We don't have any problems with you buying time on your own. If anything, I think it's admirable." "But we're not about to sit here and let you choose the crystal as the finish line for your game!" "The same goes for that drivel from the Mad King! Who would ever be willing to put their faith in something so vague?!" "And how the hell could you let her set the Capital as your starting line?!" A chorus of angry shouts echoed through the provisional royal castle. After the battle against the Sand Queen and her encounter with Alice, Elisabeth had returned to mankind's territory. Once she got there, she gave her report about the promise that had been made. The reactions she got were about what she'd expected. As everyone dumped their verbal abuse on the Torture Princess, Elisabeth shook her head. It was all very grating on her ears. She knew that all their complaints were legitimate, but at the same time, she didn't hear any of them offering up better alternatives. After all, there wasn't a single person in the world who could take Alice in a fight. If they wanted a different method, though, Elisabeth herself had long since thought of one. We could simply let Alice carry out her massacre. Then, while she was preoccupied, Elisabeth would take Kaito Sena's crystal and hide it as well as she could. From there, all they would have to do was wait with bated breath for that "just a little longer" to pass. Compared to Elisabeth's game, that method would provide far greater security for the crystal and make averting total destruction that much easier. However, it also carried the serious possibility that by the time the end came, humanity would have suffered too great a blow. Even if some form of salvation were to come, it would be pointless if most of the people receiving it were already dead. And what's more, there's no telling what state God is in over Kaito's body. 'Tis crucial we consider the possibility that if the destruction crosses a certain threshold, it will commence with the reconstruction... And even if it doesn't wake, the rebuilding efforts to come will demand considerable manpower. Even if the mother yet lives, a world without children has no future. Either way, they had no choice but to trust Kaito Sena's words. And if they wanted to take the option that prevented a massacre from occurring, offering the crystal up as a prize would be an essential part of that. After all, that was the bait they needed to get Alice to come running. From there, all they could do was buy as much time as possible before Alice reached it. That said, Elisabeth was going to have a hard time pulling that off on her own. Still, she couldn't exactly just go up and ask others for help. Any who took part in this upcoming battle would be heading to their deaths. There wasn't a soul who stood a chance against Alice, and that was even before taking the Sand Queen's battle into account. As the voices of dissent filled the air, Elisabeth quietly spoke. "I hear no alternate suggestions, so this is the way it shall be. Now, I can't promise any will survive, but...if there are any who would be willing nonetheless, I beseech you to lend me your aid. As for everyone else, I recommend you find somewhere you can hide in utter silence." Elisabeth had more or less resolved to fight this battle alone. At the moment, her mana reserves had largely recovered. Her encounter with the Grand King had led her to start keeping stockpiles of her own blood, and the transfusion had worked wonders. Now that she could stand on her own two feet again, she had no intention of lambasting any who chose to flee. She owed her life to Kaito Sena. His love had saved her. That meant that all of this, everything that was happening and everything that was going to happen, was her story. Averting her eyes and passing the buck wasn't an option. Silence descended on the room. However, there was one person who moved. It was the human king—Maclaeus. He solemnly rose to his feet, then laid a hand atop his chest and spoke. "Anyone who wants to run should run. The Fremd Torturchen will probably come to the castle first, so I'm going to stay here. That way, I'll be able to send out evacuation orders as Alice and Madam Elisabeth fight. I can handle communications on my own, so by all means, if you want to go, then go." "Maclaeus?" Elisabeth looked at him in astonishment. It was true enough the kingdom of man could replace their leader with little trouble. There were plenty of other people who could serve as king. Back during Ragnarok, though, the Craven King had fled. By all rights, Maclaeus should've been more scared of what was going on than anyone. Elisabeth shot him a questioning glance. Are you sure about this? However, he didn't answer her. That in and of itself was his answer. There was no need for him to put it into words. Maclaeus had steeled his resolve. He squeezed his fists tight in a way

that looked almost childish, then raised his voice. "Last time, I ran away. I'm done running now. I'm not going anywhere, even if it means I have to stand here alone." The king's declaration echoed across the room. His entourage of high priests and influential nobles exchanged glances with each other. Izabella said nothing. Somebody tried to break the silence, but they were quickly interrupted. The door to the conference room swung open with great force. Heavy footsteps boomed out in concert with a soldier's voice. "That's just what we've been waiting to hear." "Royal Knight Commander Darius!" Izabella cried. Elisabeth blinked. The Royal Knights were a knight order ranked below the Holy Knight paladins, and this was Elisabeth's first time crossing paths with their commander. The man Darius was about as ordinary-looking as they came. He was a gruff, bearded soldier, and though his physique was rugged, Elisabeth couldn't sense an ounce of magical potency in him. Even so, just looking at him was enough to get a sense of what an impressive military career he must have had. Darius went and stood beside Izabella. He placed his arm over his chest and bowed, then grimly laid out the facts. "We saw those fixed batteries, so we know that the situation is as bad as it was during the end of days. But this time, the Mad King isn't here, and I'm not about to send my men out to fight under the orders of a man who isn't giving it his all. Not when we all know they'd be going to their deaths. But just now, we heard your resolve loud and clear." All of a sudden, Elisabeth realized that the hallway outside was packed full of Royal Knights. It was unclear how long they'd been there, but by the sound of it, they'd been eavesdropping on the meeting. The guard outside must have been complicit, too. It was a bald-faced act of treason on all of their parts, but given the current circumstances, it was best not to get hung up on little details like that. Darius's well-worn armor clinked as he took a few steps forward. Then he knelt before Maclaeus. The young king hadn't been expecting that, and he let out a small gasp. Darius bowed low and spoke with great reverence. "It will be our honor to accompany you, Your Majesty. Please, King Maclaeus, hold your head high. Each and every one of us is ready to stand here until the last man for you." Cheers rose up from behind him. That was what the knights had been looking for—a reason to stand fast and fight. They were being faced with a calamity on par with the end of days, and all they'd been hoping for was someone to show up and lead them. They raised their fists high. One after another, the knights let out shouts of approval. That marked the moment that Maclaeus the Craven, the worst king in history, was recognized by the army as a leader worthy of succeeding the Mad King. *** Tears started beading up in the corners of Maclaeus's eyes. Before they could fall, though, he quickly wiped them away. As he did, one of the high priests nodded. It was the old man who had asked why Elisabeth couldn't have been the one to die. At some point, a small, glowing dove had appeared in his hand. The creases in his face wrinkled as he quietly spoke. "I see. In that case, I suppose there's no helping it... King Maclaeus, I have a message for you from the saints. There is the sin of La Filsell to consider, the one who reacted with hostility to the prospect of having her contract with God severed and attacked Madam Jeanne. But more importantly, they wish to honor La Christoph's vision of salvation and Her Holiness the Saint's noble sacrifice. As such, all of them are prepared to fight and die alongside the Torture Princess." "The...saints are?" The Torture Princess was shocked. That wasn't the choice she'd expected them to make at all. For most of the saints, their prayers had ultimately warped even their very flesh. God was all they had. And even though it wasn't the issue at hand, Elisabeth's eventual goal was to remove them all from God's influence. They should have viewed her as an enemy. But now they were choosing to help protect the world. Then the high priests all moved as well. They dropped to their knees as one and clasped their hands together as though in prayer. "The saints' resolution is firm. As such, we shall martyr ourselves before that same fate." "You lot, too?" It was only then, at long last, that Elisabeth realized something. All of them, the old man included, really were high priests. Beside them, the aristocrats straightened their posture. Then they all heard a flustered voice from outside. "Whoa, why's it so packed out here? I could smell the sweat from down the hallway!" The voice belonged to one of the civil officials who'd been waiting by the communication devices. For some reason, there was something almost goofy about his tone. The official waded through the sea of men and barged into the room once more. This time, there was a communication device perched atop his shoulder. He pointed at the white orb and shouted excitedly. "Madam Elisabeth! The device followed along of its own accord, but the point is, you have a message from Sir Vyadryavka! It goes, 'Our retreat was successful. We owe you a great debt, Madam Elisabeth. We know Alice Carroll has awoken, and we're in the process of reassembling the army to come to your assistance.'" "You're incorrigible, all of you!" Elisabeth barked with no small amount of vexation. The communication device flapped its wings in an odd display of pride, and Elisabeth combed back her bangs as a poignant thought crossed her mind. Nobody wanted to die. Yet in spite of that, everyone was choosing death. And they were doing it to protect those who needed protecting. Maclaeus looked straight ahead and, in his role as the sad, lonely man bearing the weight of the world, he spoke. "Madam Elisabeth, would you do the honors? We've all chosen to tie our fates to yours, and for the sake of the people, we're prepared to dance this dance to the bitter end. Now, say the word and lead us into hell." At that moment, Elisabeth felt as though her entire body had been buffeted by a fierce gale. However, the sensation hadn't been caused by the wind. Innumerable people were listening to her words. The strength of their gazes was striking her like an arrow. The high priests were kneeling, Vyadryavka was crossing his arms, Izabella was staring ahead with great dignity, Jeanne was grinning ever so slightly, and the human king was blinking back tears. Countless soldiers were hanging on to her every word. Her next few words would no doubt lead many of them to their deaths. Even so, she had no regrets. And so the Torture Princess made her fearless declaration. "We go now to our deaths—to our dawn. Let Armageddon begin." "This time, foolish child, I, too, will join the fray." The hallway was aflutter with activity as everyone rushed to and fro in preparation for the battle. Suddenly, Elisabeth heard someone call over to her from behind. She turned back to find that the darkness in one corner of the hallway was deeper than it should have been. A smooth ripple spread across the shadow's surface. Then, like a fish leaping from the water, a fell beast appeared from within. It was the Kaiser, the supreme hound. The knights present all leaped where they stood, but the Kaiser ignored them. He gave his head a great shake. Elisabeth narrowed her crimson eyes. During the battle with the Sand Queen, the Kaiser had steadfastly chosen to remain on the sidelines. She couldn't imagine what was different now. "What are you up to, Kaiser? Here I was thinking you had no intention of fighting at all." "Ha. Fool. I told you, didn't I? The stage wasn't suitable for me to come out on, and that a more fitting moment lay later on. Now that time has come. That's all there is to it. You need wings, do you not? Just this once, I shall allow you to ride me." His final offer caught Elisabeth completely by surprise. It was an exception among exceptions for that proud beast to allow a human atop his back. Elisabeth sank into thought for a moment. The fact that "the time had come" allowed her to arrive at a conclusion, and she confronted the Kaiser about a fact that, on some level, she had realized all along. "When your contractor Vlad died, you should have disappeared. Yet here you are, just as ever. It stands to reason, then, that in Vlad's final moments, you used the person who appeared before him—the Saint—as an intermediary to make a new contract." The Kaiser offered little in the way of a response. He just silently sneered at her. Elisabeth stared into his hellfire-filled gaze and cut to the chase. "Your new contractor—is it Kaito Sena?" "The one and only. Foolish child. I say, that certainly took you long enough to figure out." As he replied, the Kaiser scratched the back of his ear in much the manner an actual dog would. For some time, the question had been, what exactly happened back there? Perhaps having grown tired of growing tired, the Kaiser finally filled in the blanks. "The Saint appeared the moment Vlad died, and part of what she did there was ensure the succession of my contract. To do so, she returned it to its original owner, and Kaito Sena received it. And when he did, he asked something of me: 'When Elisabeth is in peril, I want you to save her,' he said. What a dolt that one is. As always, the things that come out of his mouth are nonsensical beyond compare." The fact that the request came from someone he deemed worthy notwithstanding, the Kaiser had probably been loath to admit that something like that was the sole reason behind his actions. Upon recognizing that further silence would cause problems down the road, though, he had given up and explained himself. However, Elisabeth's response was to narrow her eyes. Surely that condition had been met long ago. "I feel I've been in no small amount of peril up till now." "Ha! How so?! The rabble died off, certainly, but I see you're still standing. But this time is different. You'll die if things go on like this. There can be no doubt of that. So consider this something to be proud of. I shall accompany you to the depths of Hell itself. After all, failing to carry out that single request of his would be a blemish on my reputation." The Kaiser scoffed. Elisabeth stared intently at him. The supreme hound didn't seem to realize it himself, but Elisabeth couldn't help but give voice to her observation. "You sound more human than ever." "In what way?! I'll bite your head off, child," the Kaiser growled back. Even his expression seemed oddly human. That said, Elisabeth had no idea if there was any deeper meaning to the fact. Thus, the battle began. So that the people of the world could struggle valiantly and die believing in the future. So that they could bring the story to an end. 8 Armageddon It's time for a story. It's the story of a boy who was brutally killed by another and a story of a monster who cruelly killed others. Or perhaps it's a story of a child who was abandoned by his parents and a hero who was abandoned by the world. It's a story of what happened after the two of them parted ways. For

that was when the tale of admiration, folly, and love ended, and when the tale everyone built up of repentance, hatred, and dreams began. Or perhaps, it was the story of a young lady left alone and a story of a child who was abandoned, a tale of a woman who was once a monster and a girl who became a monster herself. And so too was it the story of the legions who were foolish and unchanging in their ways, yet were worthy of protection precisely because of that. In short, it was a story of the masses. A story of the fate of those who hated, and loathed, and loved, and feared, and sorrowed, and grieved, and yet made their choices all the same. It was a story that would never be remembered as a tale from long, long ago. For it was a horrible, wretched little anecdote. One that was far too twisted to pass off as a fairy tale. It was, in the end, a story that needed to come to an end. And so she took up her sword. And so they drew their blades. It's time for a story. A story of repentance, hatred, and dreams. A story in which she and they dreamed of saving the world. A story they dreamed with all their might, even if it meant throwing themselves to the wolves. A calamity cometh. A calamity cometh. To all the peoples of the land. And that calamity's form was that of a little girl. They didn't even have to wait for evening to fall. When the adorable little girl made her descent, the sky at her back was still a pale blue. As promised, Alice arrived in the plaza just before the royal tomb. She did a twirl for no particular reason, and her dress's frills spun in a circle around her. The Saint's blood she had previously been drenched in was all gone. Now she was the spitting image of an envoy from the heavens. Despite the fact that she was calamity given flesh, Alice was wearing a great big smile. She called out, her voice light and cheery. "All right, Elisabeth! I came, just like we promised!" Light crackled across the air, burning bright as it seared its way toward Alice. The attack came in the form of a divine beast, and it had been summoned forcefully without even the use of a chant. However, Alice didn't so much as deploy Humpty Dumpty in her defense. She simply let out a quiet murmur, as though she'd foreseen the attack. "White Rabbit Hole." A black hole opened up in the air, soundlessly carrying the light and heat away to some wondrous land. In the same breath, Alice wordlessly called forth her knight, and the White Knight made his majestic arrival with nary a sound. Alice slung herself onto his steed's back. The Knight swung his lance diagonally and carved his weapon through the empty air just as silently as he'd made his appearance. The shock wave from the strike traveled all the way to one of the graveyard's far-off knolls and exploded against it. After a brief moment of stillness, the entire knoll got blasted away. Fire began raging off in the distance. Nobody there could have possibly survived. Alice held down her hat as she watched the destruction play out. She let out a loud shout. "You're supposed to start with introductions! But now, see, the dummies who tried to help you are all dead! Why don't you come on out now, Elisabeth?!" "Impressive as always, I see. Measuring you by this world's framework is an exercise in futility. The way you defy all limits and boundaries you should be restrained by, why, it's like dealing with God or Diablo if they were given free will." When the dust cloud settled, there stood Elisabeth. The Torture Princess's black hair fluttered behind her as she and the Fremd Torturchen squared off. Alice smiled again, then replied in a lilting tune. "That's right. Did you only just realize it, Elisabeth? I'm the bringer of the end of days, the new crisis, the Beast of the End. Or maybe I'm the one who delivers the final judgment. It doesn't really matter. What matters is, when Father died, I finally understood something. If I wanted to, I could and can destroy anything." Alice softly closed her eyes. Her voice rang with a deep regret. "I wish I'd realized it back when Father was still alive. Then I could've destroyed everything except the two of us." If she'd done that, Alice wouldn't have had to be alone. But time only marched in one direction. Just like the White Rabbit was late, Alice had been too late as well. That was why she wanted to carry out Lewis's final wish. She intertwined her fingers as though in prayer. "There was someone who loved me. There was someone who stroked my hair. There was someone who forgave me. He was the first person in all the world who did that. And this is what he wanted." This is what I want. So, "Please, everyone, let's all please die together." Her voice echoed out pleadingly. She looked like she was on the verge of tears, and she was making the request with utmost sincerity. Elisabeth sighed. She thrust her finger straight at Alice. Then the Torture Princess gave the same bold reply she once had so long ago. "Hard pass!" "...I beg your pardon?" Alice gave her a look of absolute displeasure. A childish rage flared up in her red eyes. Elisabeth ignored her and snapped her fingers. A large hound appeared by her side. The flesh on his back churned. With a horrible noise, his ribs extended out into the sky, and membranes spread across them and formed bat-like wings. The Kaiser laughed in a voice that sounded almost human. Elisabeth didn't care one bit about Alice's displeasure. She spoke, proud and unfaltering. "'Tis time for our game, Alice. I shall have difficulty besting you on my own, no doubt, but...a promise is a promise. Now come! The dawn is nigh! Come end my long nightmare, if you can!" "Oh, you don't have to tell me twice! I'm going to end this, Elisabeth! Right here, right now!" Alice shouted back. The White Knight readied his lance. Elisabeth leaped atop the Kaiser's back. She soared high into the air. The Knight swung his lance to the side, and the Kaiser responded by giving his wings a powerful flap. The two shock waves slammed into each other. However, the White Knight's blow won out. That was when Elisabeth called out the name of an old, familiar torture device. "Iron Maiden!" A maiden with golden hair and a scarlet dress manifested in the air. She spread her arms out lovingly, embracing even that invisible shock wave and killing its momentum. However, doing so destroyed her, and she plummeted downward. But she wasn't the only attack being deployed. "Ah, aah, ah, AH, ahh, AAAAAAaaaaaaAaAaAaAAAAAA!" There was an eerie solemnity to the voices. They sounded just as much like a scream as they did a hymn. A flock of birds. A school of fish. Rainbow light. Drops of blood. The attack slammed into Alice hard—from the side. "Huh?" As far as Alice knew, she had already finished killing the saints. That was what made it the perfect surprise attack. Some of her white hair burst into flames, and she hurriedly put it out. Meanwhile, the White Knight held his shield forward. A great bow shot slammed into it, and the arrow's powerful poison began eating away at the shield's metal. Then another barrage of great bow arrows came flying from a different direction altogether. The White Knight swatted them all down. Although Alice was unharmed, her red eyes were as wide as dinner plates. She let out a dumbfounded murmur. "You're kidding... Just how many people do you have?" "I told you, did I not? On my own, I would've had trouble besting you. But with allies, 'tis a whole different story. We intend to face you until death claims us—O haughty judge, O ye who would name herself the end of days' reprisal." The Kaiser fluttered his wings, and Elisabeth came to a stop in the air. However, the situation hadn't changed. Things were still just as critical as they were before, and the tables remained utterly unturned. Yet Elisabeth made a bold proclamation. "Welcome, Fremd Torturchen. Welcome to Wonderland." The Torture Princess bore a vicious grin. She was majestic in her brazenness, almost as though she truly believed that victory was all that awaited her. Lance strikes carved through the air. The thrusts were aimed at the saints, who were in the middle of dispersing. However, not all the attacks proved fatal. Part of that was thanks to the priests' barriers, but more than anything, it was due to the paladins, who were working together to move the saints around. And the method they were using was as simple as could be. They had loaded the saints and priests onto carts and were pulling them through the areas of the city that had already been evacuated. It made for an absurd spectacle, and "irreverent" didn't even begin to describe it. Surely there had to be a limit to how ridiculous a tactic could be. At the same time, though, it was proving surprisingly effective. The saints' second biggest problem might have been their lack of endurance, but their biggest flaw was how immobile they were. A stationary target was just asking to be killed. Once it got moving, though, it was a different story. As the paladins raced atop the cobble paving, one of the youngsters among their ranks called over. "La Dhruv, are you holding up all right?" "I... Yes, I'm...still...fine," replied the old man with the belly full of fish. He rubbed his transparent stomach and nodded. He had used up all his mana during the fight against the Sand Queen, but he had largely recovered. The mana from the high priests and the blood transfusions had done the trick. Now he was good to fire off multiple shots in succession again. The old man, La Dhruv, had fought under the Mad King's command during Ragnarok as well. The bombardments the saints fired off in that battle were the stuff of legend, even to that day. Now La Dhruv was willingly staring death in the eye yet again. The young paladin stole a glance back at the man he was risking his life to cart around. He went on, almost unthinkingly. "Forgive me, but I have to ask...why?" "Just shut up and run, you dolt! You'll bite your tongue!" the man's superior snapped at him. "No, it's, fine," La Dhruv said, cutting in. He gently answered the question with one of his own. "Why, what?" The young paladin faltered for a moment. However, not wanting to have any regrets, he let his doubts spill out. "I, um, I heard about what happened with Madam Elisabeth and La Filsell. And about how you spent all that time with La Filsell afterward... That's why I was so surprised when you all volunteered to put your lives on the line and carry out this miraculous bombardment. I just wanted to ask, why?" he asked timidly. The fact of the matter was, this was a battlefield. It wasn't the kind of place you went to fight on behalf of someone you hated. La Dhruv gave the young man's question an understanding nod. Then, abruptly, his face underwent a shift. All of a sudden, La Dhruv was youthful again. All his wrinkles and age spots were gone. Young and beautiful, he spoke. "We listen to all voices. Not just La Filsell's lament, but also La Christoph's prayer...as well as the Saint's final words." "You heard Her Holiness?!" "Let me tell you something rather blasphemous. We may be saints, but just like

her...it was as people that we made our choices. And our choice, made freely, was to believe." The paladin's eyes went wide at the unexpected revelation. Normally, the saints had little in the way of free will. However, the Saint's death seemed to have triggered something in them. Now they had found something to believe in. While the paladin gawked, La Dhruv's face returned to decrepitude. His hundreds of wrinkles creased as he spoke softly. "Even, if, we someday, lose, our connections...God, will still, be in, our hearts. As people, we believe, in La Christoph's smile, and the Saint's wish. And those, who owe their life to another, have a duty to fight." The young paladin gasped. It was true—if not for the deaths of La Christoph and the Saint, the world would have reached its breaking point far earlier. Everyone there owed their lives to those two. The sure light of volition burned in La Dhruv's eyes. Despite his unsteady voice, his intent was clear. "And so, we fight. No matter how foolish it may be." With that, La Dhruv resumed his chant, and the fish-shaped divine beasts bursting from his belly twisted and writhed as they shot forth. They swam through the air and made for Alice. It was hardly enough to take her down, but the incessant bombardment was making it difficult for her to get a precise read on their locations. However, the shock waves kept on coming. The paladins ran with all their might, then abruptly veered and changed course. A moment later, the house right behind them exploded. As rubble rained down around them, a couple of the paladins shouted. "Sorry about the bumpy ride." "You know, this is almost fun!" "Is that so," La Dhruv replied. "Just, don't, mess up, the steering." "Of course!" All they could do was run around awkwardly until the saints hit their limits. Either that or until they got unlucky and died to one of the shock waves. However, their gaits were free of despair, and their expressions were unclouded. For there was something they knew in their hearts. There could be no doubt that they were living in the last stages of a miracle. And knowing that meant that nothing could give them pause. Then there were the roofs. The people who lived in the Capital were well-off, so the houses there were built sturdy. You could run across their rooftops with no problems. And what's more, aside from the areas where nobles lived, each block of houses was built adjointly. Because of that, the beastfolk and Royal Knights were able to move freely about the rooftops. Their great bows needed to be fixed in place, so they had abandoned them as soon as the battle began in earnest. Now they were using regular bows to fire off their sporadic rains of poison arrows. Whenever they got close to the main plaza, they also mixed in attacks with jars of oil and flaming arrows. The haphazard volleys amounted to little more than harassment. They were unable to inflict any actual damage to Alice herself. However, their efforts made for a fine distraction. Each time her dress melted or burst into flames, Alice would get flustered and throw a childish tantrum. And because there were so many different people firing, the White Knight had trouble aiming. Even so, the archers still needed to dodge the wide-area attacks with their own two feet. "Southeast, range four! Disperse!" When the beastfolk voice cut through the air, everyone scattered. The shouts were designed to succinctly convey the direction and power of the incoming attacks. The archers broke into a dash. When the shock wave landed, it carved a gaping hole in the ground. Debris exploded up from the impact site and rained down hard before eventually settling down. Vyadryavka rose from his defensive crouch. Darius stood beside him, lightly armored and stretching his shoulders. He'd forced his way through more than one rain of rubble, but there wasn't so much as a scratch on him. The man was built tough. Vyadryavka gave him an appraising look, then spoke with some surprise in his voice. "My people do battle in the forest, so we're old hands at fighting across varying elevations. I must say, you and your men impress me. To be honest, I didn't expect you all to be able to keep up with our speed." "We're the Royal Knights, I'll have you know! We know this city's layout, even its rooftops, like the back of our hands! I was expecting you lot to spend half your time getting lost, but I gotta hand it to you, your men did well!" Vyadryavka finishing standing up. Darius crossed his arms. They stared confrontationally at each other. A few seconds passed. Then the two military men bumped their arms together. Each had praised the other, and each of them nodded. Then they lowered their arms and resumed their positions. Vyadryavka readied his bow once more. The beastfolk around him followed suit. At the moment, they were far away from the plaza. Vyadryavka used every ounce of beastfolk strength and visual acuity he had, drew back his bowstring, and fired. "Hellhole, Pendulum, Gavel!" All the while, Elisabeth was deploying one torture device after another. She knew full well that all of them would just be destroyed, yet she doled them out lavishly and spared no expense. The sheer fervor she was displaying was almost reminiscent of her onetime fight against Kaito Sena. The White Knight handled all her attacks with aplomb. He charged through the Hellhole, gouging out the earth all around him, then sliced the Pendulum to ribbons and batted away the Gavel with his sword's pommel. But every second he had to spend defending himself was time that he wasn't attacking the others. Then the saints' blasts and the myriad arrows found their mark. Izabella took advantage of that opening to glide forward on her mechanical legs. She wound a chain around the White Knight's arm and slid in a wide circle to obstruct her foe's movements. Her silver hair traced an elegant arc through the air. Even so, the White Knight continued maneuvering his steed and evading Elisabeth's torture devices. That was when the saints' bombardment hit Alice head-on. She screamed. Before the White Knight had a chance to grab her, Izabella severed the chain of her own accord. She beat an immediate retreat, then spun back around and hurled a good dozen throwing knives at Alice. As she did, Elisabeth's voice rose up in unison. Six vortices of petals and darkness manifested in the midst of Izabella's attack. "La Guillotine, Saint of Beheadings." The situation was pure chaos. With all the attacks coming in, they could barely even see Alice anymore. It almost felt like they were a group of adults ganging up on a child and bullying her. There was a limit to how long they could keep up their onslaught, but at the same time, they were slowly but surely wearing Alice down as well. They had reached an equilibrium. Now all we need do is buy as much time as we can. Elisabeth could see victory just on the horizon. She called forth yet another torture device. Alice held down her hat with tears in her eyes. She balled herself up smaller and smaller, then murmured just five words, "This is all so dumb." Her voice reached Elisabeth's ears with unsettling clarity. At the same time, the White Knight drew his arm all the way back. He was completely ignoring all the incoming attacks. This time, something was terribly different. A chill ran down Elisabeth's spine. However, Izabella and Jeanne were the only other ones who noticed. There wasn't time to shout out an order. Not a moment later, the White Knight threw his lance. Silver light hurtled through the air. It drew a straight line not just to the plaza, but all the way to the Capital proper, and obliterated everyone in its vicinity. 9 A Waltz for Two In truth, she knew it was never going to happen. But still, she wanted to dream. The place where Jeanne de Rais once lived had been home to nothing but death. It was a remote place surrounded by cliffs, and everyone there lived knowing that death would someday take them. To them, Jeanne was nothing but a puppet meant to massacre them all. In order to create their fervent entreaty, the alchemists put their very lives on the line. "Grant us our wish, O Torture Princess. Send us to our eternal rest." Jeanne had no desire to speak ill of their pride, nor did she intend to ridicule the cause they'd spent so long believing in. Otherwise, she wouldn't have put in the work she had to see their dream to fruition and to become the maiden of salvation. As far as how she actually felt went, though, she had just one thing to say. "That's so messed up! "I mean, if you're dying, your dreams ain't worth shit. They're just a burden, weighing down the livin'." The alchemists hadn't let emotions influence their actions. To them, there was only death. And that coldness of theirs had been Jeanne's entire world. But then she found something warm. Izabella was the first beautiful person she had ever met, and even after all the machine parts Jeanne had augmented her with, Izabella had retained her kindness. She was so gallant, so lovely, and always so warm. Izabella took her hand. Izabella didn't shy away from her blood. Izabella cried for her sake. Izabella lamented her wounds. And so, Jeanne let herself believe. She'd even had a foolishly sappy exchange about it. "Marriage!" "Of course! We'll have a big ceremony in the Capital!" She'd wanted so badly to believe. Like a maiden in the midst of a dream. "In truth, I knew it was never going to happen. But still, I wanted to dream of something beautiful." There was no time to dodge the White Knight's throw. In all likelihood, just about everyone was dead. Vyadryavka? Darius? The paladins? The Royal Knights? The saints? The beastfolk? Rubble fell. Fire rained down. They eclipsed everything. All of them? Elisabeth's crimson eyes went wide. She found herself at a loss for words. Before her, she could see the solid line that had been gouged out of the city. Fire licked at the gash. It was like looking at a meteor's landing site. The civilians had been evacuated already, but all the combatants were dead. There was little chance any of them had survived. Alice quietly raised her head. She posed her question with the indifference of a queen. "Now it's truly over. Really and truly. Later, I'll make sure to go kill the king who conspired with all those knights and saints, too. So are we done playing tag now?" She calmly cocked her head to the side. The look in her eyes made her intent perfectly clear. If the game was over, she was going to begin her massacre. She wasn't even giving Elisabeth time to mourn the dead. Alice was a queen now, and her heart had no mercy in it. Elisabeth shook off her shock for the moment. She was just about to give her unhesitating answer, but then another voice cut in. "Not yet. We're still here, aren't we? Open your damn eyes, girl." "We, married couple Izabella Vicker and Jeanne de Rais, will be your opponents." The woman of gold and the woman of silver strode forward. The former's right hand and the latter's left hand were clasped tightly together with their fingers interwoven. Elisabeth bit her lip. The two of them were strong, to be sure. But they were no match for the Fremd Torturchen. And the gap between their strength and hers should have been obvious to them. Yet even so, they didn't let go of each other's hands, and they didn't flee. The sheer

depth of their resolve was plain for Elisabeth to see. However, she raised her voice anyway. "Jeanne, Izabella—this is beyond you. You've done enough!" "You said it yourself once. 'If any dared tell me what to do, I'd lend them no ear.' 'The burden of your choice shall be yours alone to shoulder.' And 'Saving the world and destroying it are but mere matters of personal selfishness,'" Jeanne replied. Those were words that Elisabeth had spoken long ago at the World's End. Elisabeth let out a small gasp. Sure enough, choosing to live or die was a burden that only a person themselves could shoulder. No matter what lay beyond, nobody had the right to stop them from making that decision. However, Elisabeth started to argue anyway. Before she could, however, Jeanne went on with a serene look in her eyes. "Do you have any regrets, foolish lady?" "What nonsense are you spouting, now? At this eleventh hour, how—?" "Could I possibly still have regrets," she tried to finish. This was supposed to be a battle she was going to her death in. The very fact she was there should have refuted the very notion. But she couldn't do it. For in that moment, "Ah—" Elisabeth remembered. It all hit her, whether she wanted it to or not. That one wish she had, the wish not unlike a star. Jeanne snorted upon seeing Elisabeth's reaction. She spoke in a tone both severe and matter-of-fact. "You want to stop us. And when you succeed, you'll end up dying in our place, but—'you can't seriously tell me you paid a single thought as to whether you'd regret it or not!'" This time, the words were ones that Kaito Sena had once spoken. Jeanne had been torn about whether or not to kill Izabella back at the World's End, and that was what Kaito had told Jeanne to help her see that she wanted to save Izabella. Now Jeanne had taken that same comment and turned it back on Elisabeth. There was no way Elisabeth could lie, not when faced with those words. She was totally and completely beaten. Recognizing that, she steered the Kaiser in a new direction. If those two were going to stay, then it was Elisabeth's job to leave. Having all of them get taken out in one fell swoop would be counterproductive to their goal of buying time. Elisabeth quietly proceeded onward. Her black hair fluttered behind her. However, she did make one half whisper of a comment. "Forgive me. I shall follow you shortly hereafter." "If all goes well, you won't have to. I ain't plannin' on goin' down easy, y'know." "That's right, Jeanne," Izabella agreed. "I...wait, 'I'? Don't you mean 'we' won't—hey, whoa, aaaaaah!" Instead of answering the question, Jeanne snapped her fingers. When she did, all of Izabella's machine parts burst into motion. In accordance with Jeanne's orders, they started moving on their own, and Izabella's legs broke into a run regardless of what Izabella herself desired. She raced down the path that had been carved through the city. In what seemed like no time at all, she was already gone from sight. After checking to make sure that Izabella had fled far enough away, Jeanne nodded all on her own. "You hoped for a future together with me. You brought me happiness...and that alone is enough. Good-bye, my beloved. May you find a more suitable partner, and may you live happily ever after with them." Jeanne gave her a little wave, much the way a child would. However, she immediately squeezed her pale hand tight. She turned toward Alice and focused her rose-colored eyes straight on her. Then, for the very first time in her life, Jeanne broke into a gentle smile. She faced the Fremd Torturchen and spoke. "Would you mind if we talked for a bit, young lady?" "Talked?" It was such a fair and radiant expression that Alice couldn't help but stop mid-attack. For a moment, Alice was taken aback. She seemed captivated by Jeanne's expression. However, she hurriedly pulled herself back together. She spoke in a tizzy. "A-ahh. You're trying to buy time, aren't you? But I'm not going to fall for that. Crushing you will be ever so easy. You should know that no one is coming to save you." "You're not wrong. It would be a lie to say that I'm uninterested in buying time. But more than that...I've wanted to chat with you for a good long while now." Jeanne's expression was as serious as could be, and her words were unblemished by falsehoods. Alice squinted at her. She still found the whole thing rather suspicious, but she bade her White Knight to lower his lance for the time being. Jeanne gave her a small nod by way of thanks, then went on with great eloquence. "I'm an artificially made Torture Princess. The moment I was born, I was entrusted with a mission to save the world. 'Grant us our wish, O Torture Princess. Send us to our eternal rest.' I won't speak ill of their request, and I intend to honor their pride. But still...what they gave me was unmistakably a curse." The slightest of gleams shone in Jeanne's rose eyes. Alice arched a suspicious eyebrow at her. Given her expression, she didn't understand what Jeanne was getting at, but she definitely had a bad feeling about it. Alice gulped down her saliva. Her voice trembled a little as she urged Jeanne to go on. "...What are you saying?" "I'm talking about repentance, hatred, and dreams. He probably apologized to you as he entrusted you with his dream. But really, that dream was nothing more than a bald-faced hatred toward the world. I mean, you cottoned on to that, right?" A flash of terror ran across Alice's face. The tremendous power she wielded was the furthest thing from her mind, and she tried to clamp her hands over her ears. Before she could, though, Jeanne went on and whispered the thing that nobody else had pointed out. Her words gouged at that still-fresh wound. "He loved you, no doubt—but there wasn't any love in that dyin' wish of his." "Off With Her Head!" Alice cast her spell, and an executioner's ax appeared in midair. However, all it managed to lop off were a few tufts of Jeanne's hair. Alice was so shaken it had affected her aim. She was quivering all over. Jeanne's eyes flashed like jewels as she blinked them. She quietly went on. "That isn't what love is." "Shut up, just, just shut up already!" "Izabella, my beloved, held my hand. She didn't shy away from my blood. She cried for me. She lamented my wounds. And if she was to die, then no matter how it happened, she would say one thing and one thing alone to me." Jeanne looked down at her finger—and at the gleaming blue ring resting on it. With how dire the situation was, they hadn't been able to get the real deal, and that was what she'd been given in the meantime. Jeanne planted a kiss on it and continued. "'Go on and find happiness without me.'" "Stop it! Stop...stop...please, just stop..." "You had a curse placed on you. The dreams of the dying ain't worth shit. They're just burdens, weighing down the livin'. So why not just put a stop to all this? I mean, you go and smash up the whole world, and what'll you really be left with?" Alice hunched over and began violently trembling. She looked around nervously. However, there was nobody to answer for her. For Alice was alone. She cried and cried and bit down hard on her lip. Then she shook her head and spat out her reply like one would a mouthful of blood. "I know that. I knew it already, I really did. But in their heart of hearts, everyone has just one thing that truly matters to them. If they can't have that, then what can they have? I'm the only one who understands Father's sorrow. So it's fine. I'm not going to stop. This is my choice, and I've made it." Alice violently wiped away her tears. She glared forward with all her might. Then, like a proper adult woman, she spoke plainly and definitively. "I choose to accept Father as he was." Alice had decided to fulfill his wish. No longer would she hesitate, and no longer would she falter. In that moment, Alice accepted it all. She chose to affirm her father's hatred, then made her final decision. And by doing so, she was spelling the world's doom. It was a tragic path to choose, but the love that had inspired it was admirable. Someone she wished was alive had been killed. He had entrusted her with his dream. And she had accepted it, even knowing it was a curse. And thus, she hoisted up the flag of revenge—and chose to die alongside all of creation. Alice raised her hand to resume her attack. However, she spoke in an unthinkably gentle voice. "But still, thank you. I'll remember what you told me until the very end." "I see. Well, if you're going to accept everything about your beloved, then I guess we ain't got no choice but to kill each other." "That's right. And I'm sorry to say that it's me who'll be killing you." There was a tinge of loneliness in Alice's voice, but as she spoke, she continued making her move. She snapped her fingers. The White Knight did as instructed and brandished his lance. As a show of resistance, Jeanne summoned up eddies of golden flower petals and forged them into the most powerful shield she could muster. The White Knight fired his shock wave. Even at a glance, Jeanne could tell that she didn't have the strength to block it. But all of a sudden, something changed. The White Knight's shot went wide. Instead of hitting Jeanne, it went flying off into the distance. Jeanne squinted to try and figure out what had happened. When she realized the reason, she gasped. At some point, someone had wound a chain around the White Knight's arm. Jeanne traced its silver length with her gaze. There on the other end, standing there like it was the most natural place in the world for her to be was Jeanne's beloved, Izabella. Jeanne thought she was dreaming. But no. It was real. She had appeared like a prince out of a fairy tale, ready to show up when and wherever she was needed. That was simply how fantastical the woman Jeanne loved was. "What are you doing back here?! I thought I got your ass to safety!" However, Jeanne shouted all the same. Izabella blinked. The situation before them was downright hopeless, yet for some reason, Izabella scratched her cheek sheepishly like she didn't have a care in the world. She replied in an awkward, almost bashful tone. "Maybe, but...isn't it a husband's job to come running when her wife is in trouble?" "What're you on about, dumbass?! I'm not the wife; you're the wife!" Jeanne cried at the top of her lungs. She wondered what in the world was going on. Both of them were being idiots, but as Jeanne saw it, Izabella's actions were far more idiotic than hers. She should have known perfectly well that coming back would mean her death. But at the same time, there was something else Jeanne came to realize. No matter how many times she tried to push Izabella away, Izabella would just keep coming back. Why, she wouldn't so much as give it a second thought. Her fair silver hair would stream behind her all the while, and the look in her blue and purple eyes would be one of bewilderment at the very prospect of staying away. But that all made perfect sense. That was just the kind of woman Izabella Vicker was. And that was

precisely why Jeanne loved her so. Tears welled up in Jeanne's eyes, and she clamped them shut. Then she gave up. And as she did, she nervously extended her hand. Earlier, even though she knew how impossible it was given the circumstances, she had dreamed of something beautiful. "Marriage!" "Of course! We'll have a big ceremony in the Capital!" Now it was as though that dream were coming true, like they were having their wedding right then and there. Jeanne took her lover by the hand, and Izabella readily squeezed hers back. Golden flower petals decorated their surroundings like they would in a ceremonial hall. As she intertwined their fingers tight, Jeanne posed the question. "My beloved lady, will you stay by my side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, to love and to cherish—even if it means throwing your life away?" "It would be my pleasure," Izabella replied, beaming. She puffed herself up with pride, like there was no other answer worth giving. Jeanne gave a teary-eyed smile. And with that, the two of them began their Waltz. 10 The Torture Princess and the Kaiser There was a conversation that took place just before Armageddon. "I need to tell you about your brother." Those were the words Elisabeth Le Fanu had used to broach the subject with Izabella Vicker. Then she told Izabella everything. About the contractor to the Knight, who was one of the fourteen demons—and about his features and the way he died. She told Izabella that she wasn't positive the man had actually been her younger brother, but to Izabella, the matter was settled. There was no doubt in her mind that had been her brother indeed. Izabella's brother had had eyes of the purest blue. He was possessed with both a strong will to live and a powerful sense of justice. The regrets he felt at the Plain of Skewers would easily have been enough for the demons to win him over. After telling Izabella what happened, Elisabeth asked her to choose if she was going to fight or not. If she wanted to flee, Elisabeth wouldn't have blamed her, and if she wanted to turn on Elisabeth, that was her right. However, Izabella's sole response had been, "Thank you." She wanted to thank Elisabeth for saving her brother after he fell in with the demons. That was how she truly felt. However, that wasn't to say she didn't feel torn up about it. When she thought back, Izabella realized that, for the longest time, that was how her whole life had gone. She had constantly been forced to weigh her own wants and needs against what was right, and she had chosen righteousness every time. She had no regrets about that. But it did make her sad. Izabella Vicker's life had been a painfully prosaic one. But then salvation had come to her from the last place she'd expected. The person who'd once fallen into her arms had been unbelievably beautiful. Jeanne had saved her. Jeanne had pined for her. Jeanne had loved her. Jeanne was her everything. Jeanne had gone and loved someone who had naught to her name but righteousness. And to the very end, Izabella had had the person she loved by her side. That in and of itself was a blessing of the truest sort. And because of that, Izabella Vicker thought of herself as one of the happiest people in the world. Do you pledge to take me, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, to love and to cherish, to comfort and to support, with all of your heart until death do us part? "I do." The corpses of two women lay before Alice. Everything from their waists down had been shredded to ribbons, and their guts had come spilling out of their chests. However, the fact that anything remained of them at all was an oddity. Such was the sheer power of the White Knight's attack. However, Alice had deliberately misaimed her final slash. She couldn't blast them away into nothing. She simply couldn't. The two women had been holding hands to the bitter end. And they'd been smiling oh-so-peacefully. "Why...are you smiling?" Alice mumbled. She racked her brain. Wasn't death supposed to be sad? Wasn't it supposed to be despair-inducing? If she were the one dying, she certainly wouldn't have been able to wear an expression like that. So why—? "Why, why, why ARE YOU SMILINGGGGGGGGGG?!" She got no reply to her scream of a question. For Alice was alone. She clenched her fists tight in front of her chest. She had butchered countless scores of people there, yet she stood there and shed big, soppy tears. Then, out of the blue, she raised her head and spoke as though she'd stumbled upon a single last ray of hope. "Elisabeth! That's right, that's right. Elisabeth." She started walking with an unsteady gait. She had dispelled the White Knight for a time as she stared at Jeanne's and Izabella's corpses, so it was her own two legs she now tottered on. Her faltering footsteps carried her across the gash she herself had gouged in the ground. She was the spitting image of a child who'd gotten lost. It was like she was chasing after an older sister who had gone and left her behind. "C'mon, Elisabeth, tell me, tell me... Because I don't get it, see." I don't understand any of it anymore. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. As a matter of fact, there was nothing there at all. The only things filling it were milky-white and rainbow hues. Diablo had left no lasting changes there, yet all the same, it was impossible to deny that death had a stronger hold over the world than ever. There was something terribly odd about that fact when Elisabeth thought about it. She was at the World's End. The place that the Saint had designated as such. That was where she watched Jeanne and Izabella die. She silently dispelled the image—the window—that the blue ring had displayed for her. A single teardrop rolled down her cheek, and she turned. This time, her gaze came to a quiet rest on the people slumbering in the crystal. The Kaiser said nothing. Elisabeth gingerly placed her hand atop the crystal's glowing surface. It was as cold as could be, but she rested her cheek against it all the same. "Kaito, Hina...will you fight with me?" No response came. However, she nodded anyway. She conjured a flower petal and used it to slit her wrist. The Torture Princess's mana-infused blood spilled forth, trickling into crimson lines and delicately encircling the crystal where Kaito and Hina slept. When it did, the two slumbering pillars began moving in kind. They coiled around each other and their thorny vines pointed outward. Brilliant roses of azure and crimson bloomed along their lengths once more. Then the newly grown pillars wound themselves around the crystal like some sort of profane shrine. Now the preparations were complete. Elisabeth let out a brief exhale. Then, without a word, she sat down. Never again would she be able to rest her back against that crystal. She cast her solitary gaze up at the sky. The Kaiser made no snide remarks. He was a clever enough beast to realize that this was hardly the time for such things. And with that, Elisabeth did like she had so long ago, and began singing a song. It's time for a story. It's the story of a young woman left alone and a story of a child who was abandoned. Or perhaps it's the story of a woman who was a monster, and a girl who became a monster herself. It was, in the end, a story that needed to be ended. And so she took up her sword. And so they drew their blades. It's time for a story. A story of repentance, dreams, and hatred. A story in which she and they dreamed of saving the world. A story they dreamed with all their might, even if it meant throwing themselves to the wolves. The change came about all at once. Crimson boiled up atop the clear ground, and the snowflakes piled high, and the ice cracked and shattered in succession. A wave of terrible teleportation circles spread out like a toxin. The first ones to show up were the fixed batteries, who appeared in a circle surrounding Elisabeth. Their eyes and tongues had been plucked out, their limbs had been severed, and they writhed as they suffered in an eternity of pain. Elisabeth realized something in her gut. This is the sum total of Lewis's legacy. There was no way there were any more of them than that. Finally, the very last of their reserves had been deployed. It was time to put an end to those pitiful creatures. Elisabeth wasted no time in leaping astride the Kaiser. She soared through the air, nimbly avoiding the searing rays of the batteries' screams. The Kaiser flapped his wings, higher and higher and higher still. He let out a low growl. "Enough with the nobodies. Go to your rests and be quick about it." Upon reaching the highest of heights, the Kaiser descended. Darkness blotted out everything around the site where the fourteen demons' mightiest member landed. For a time, everything was deathly silent. Then, after a few seconds, the darkness transformed into black feathers. The feathers exploded in a shower of azure flower petals. The blast was at the fixed batteries' center, and it reduced them all into piles of entrails and puddles of blood. In death, they were finally free from their suffering. Despite the display of overwhelming power he'd just put on, though, the Kaiser didn't laugh this time. After he landed, he adopted a low stance and growled out an ominous prophecy. "She's coming, foolish child. A calamity cometh." A calamity cometh. A calamity cometh. Thus spoke the mightiest of the fourteen demons. Suddenly, a black spot not unlike a rabbit hole opened in the air. A young girl in a blue dress hopped out. It was Alice, but there was something off about her. She was crying, and both of her arms were outstretched. She looked anxious, almost like a lost child. "Elisabeth... Ewivubeeeth!" "And why exactly are you crying?" Elisabeth asked her, acknowledging Alice's sorrow in a voice so gentle she surprised even herself. Alice trembled as she shook her head. Her hat's white ribbons were drooping as well, and they shook side to side in concert with her. Tears streamed down her face as she desperately tried to get the words out. "I don't get it. I don't get anything anymore. There's only one thing I'm even still sure of. So please, Elisabeth—please, die together with me!" "And what, may I ask, led you to that particular conclusion?" Elisabeth's voice rang with exasperation, but she already knew. There was no getting through to her. Alice looked like she might listen to reason, but that would never happen. The fact of the matter was, that one thing really was all that Alice had. She had left too many corpses in her wake. Not even her youth could excuse what she'd done. And Alice herself knew she was past redemption. Destroying everything was the only option she had. That was simply the nature of the deeds Alice had wrought. Before Elisabeth even noticed, Alice was astride her White Knight's horse. There had been no perceptible change in the interim. It was like an optical illusion—the scene Elisabeth had been looking at had been swapped out for another. A realization crossed Elisabeth's mind. Alice and the White Knight were basically one and the same. She hadn't even needed to speak an incantation to summon him. The only way to beat the Knight would be to kill Alice. The White Knight raised his lance aloft. If his strike landed, there would be no

surviving it. However, the Kaiser chose not to put any distance between them. Instead, he leaped, using his lithe muscles to propel his black body in a beautiful arc through the air. He bit down on the White Knight's neck. As Elisabeth clung to the Kaiser's back, she reached out her arm. Then, in unison, they wrenched Alice and the White Knight from the back of their steed. From there, Elisabeth and the Kaiser dropped their foes from high up. It was a tactic that was only available to them then, in that moment. Alice's tears had caused her to let down her guard in a fatal way. "Huh?" Alice cried in surprise. However, the White Knight remained silent. He had no proper will of his own. Blood spurted out from his windpipe, but he still prioritized Alice above all else. Still far from steady on his feet, he swung his lance. Elisabeth summoned a new weapon into her hand. "Whip Sword!" Her blade extended on its own accord as it curved through the air. By snapping it every which way, Elisabeth succeeded in diffusing the imperfect shock wave. Even so, it was still strong enough to sear her skin. However, she cast her Whip Sword aside all the same. She spared no thought for whatever follow-up attack might be coming. Instead, she readied Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal and swung it straight down. Her aim was to gouge out Alice's heart. "'Tis over now." And in that moment, it was like time itself stood still. Her sword cracked. She hadn't gouged out Alice's heart at all. As a matter of fact, her blade had failed to so much as pierce her skin. Fissures ran along its length as it sat motionless atop Alice's skin. It was as though she'd just tried to stab a hunk of metal. A profound sense of remorse spread through Elisabeth's heart as she quietly realized the truth. Ah. Is that...so. She was too late. That single attack the White Knight made back at the Capital had probably marked the final borderline. The vast quantities of mana Alice obtained had sparked a change in her body. Now no steel nor heat could mar her flesh. There wasn't a single person in the world who could hurt Alice anymore. All the King's horses and all the King's men couldn't kill Alice Carroll again. Ending her is beyond me now. Alice seemed to be aware of the change she'd undergone. For a moment, a look of sadness flitted across her face. However, her expression soon changed. She decided to adorn herself in that same innocent obliviousness to the very end. It was as if to say that, as one who sought to end the world, doing so was her duty. A stiff smile spread across Alice's face. She gave her fingers a light snap. "Good-bye, Elisabeth. This was fun. Really, it was." That was the White Knight's signal. He started by shoving the Kaiser aside, and the black beast left a trail of crushed snowflakes in his wake as he skidded across the ice. Then the White Knight rose to his feet. There was a deep sadness in Alice's voice. However, the White Knight showed no mercy. He raised his spear and drew it all the way back. Then he hurled it straight at Elisabeth. The deadly blow was accompanied by a burning shock wave, and when the Kaiser dived in the way, it pierced him right through. "...Why?" Elisabeth asked, shouting the question at the speared hound from the bottom of her heart. "A fair...question. I'm not...quite sure myself," the Kaiser replied. He sounded oddly pleased. Cracks formed on his sleek black belly and began spreading outward. This was no ordinary wound he'd suffered. He was starting to shatter, like ceramic that had been exposed to too much heat. One clink rang out after another as little shards of him broke off. With a distant look in his eyes, the Kaiser let out a growl. Then he laughed a very human laugh. "It's all his fault. That twisted glass sculpture of a boy—he and He Who Rears Hell Within His Mind both. They fought for you, and somehow or other, I must have ended up thinking it would be a shame to let you die. What a sorry sight I've become." The Kaiser's words were self-derisive. Strangely, though, there was no regret in his voice. The black dog continued cracking. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Instead of seeming cruel, there was actually a sort of dignity to it. The Kaiser rose heavy to his feet, losing parts of himself all the while, and walked his chosen path with the utmost regality. The supreme hound came to a stop before Elisabeth. His innumerable fragments shone brilliantly as they scattered into the sky. At the glowing black center of it all, the Kaiser spoke. "Tell me, child. Is being human truly this painful? Is this why you tremble and cry out of fear of losing things?" "I suppose it is, yes. To be human is to know fear." "Then you're a strong lot. Your lives are so pointless, yet instead of dying, you live." Black crystals clinked downward. It was like looking at an hourglass. The pile they made must have once comprised the Kaiser's innards. It was unclear whether or not he felt pain, but if he did, the black hound paid it no heed. He scowled down at Elisabeth as proud and as lordly as could be. "Go on, foolish child, and win. Survive. You were the one who slew me...so I forbid you from dying!" With that, the Kaiser leaped again. A flash of black covered in more cracks than she could count drew an elegant arc through the air. A second lance strike caught him square in the torso. His gaze, burning with hellfire, landed on Elisabeth. It was the gaze of someone looking at an absolute fool. There was something almost human about those eyes, and they nearly resembled Kaito Sena's. A tiny clink rang out. The most beautiful fragment of all flew up, then vanished. That was the last of them. No life remained there. Elisabeth staggered to her feet. She let out a husky laugh. This time, she shed no tears. Her reserves had run dry long ago. She simply let go of her cracked sword's handle and shouted. "Alice!" "...Elisabeth," Alice replied. She made her White Knight stand down. Just as before, Alice dropped a spoon into her hand. No blade could cut her. In fact, there wasn't any sort of attack that could harm her anymore. Yet even so, Elisabeth was prepared to fight to the bitter end. It was a pathetic display of resistance. However, a silent bellow echoed in Elisabeth's mind. I have no regrets. "I have not a single regret." She had certainly made plenty of mistakes, and her wish might well go unanswered. But the fact remained that she had reached out and grabbed hold of that one frail hope. "If any dare call that an error, they shall have me to answer to!" That was why she had no regrets. Just a single tiny wish, not unlike a star. Elisabeth drew her long sword once more from a swirl of black darkness and crimson flower petals. Her glossy hair swayed behind her as she appeared before the girl. Alice, for her part, was waiting for the Torture Princess without so much as a shred of fear. Her arms were spread wide, and a broad smile sat plastered across her face. It was like she was greeting a playmate and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Elisabeth's sword was raised aloft. Alice had her spoon in hand. Crimson and azure petals were cascading all around them. The Torture Princess brought her sword down and— The room was red. It had no windows. It had no doors. Nobody could leave it. And nobody could come in. It was almost like a graveyard. Or perhaps a prison. And yet now its nonexistent door had been left wide open. Inside, Hina was sitting alone. She slowly surveyed the room's interior. The room's interior, dyed all in red. The room's interior that, even after getting sealed away in the crystal, Kaito Sena had coated with his blood as he continued absorbing the world's pain. She spoke softly. "You were never fighting alone, Lady Elisabeth." And— Right before Elisabeth and Alice's blows met someone reached out and caught them. The ensuing gale force sent the person's tattered cloak flapping about. Their hood hung low, obscuring their face, but whoever they were, they had just caught the blades without so much as breaking a sweat. Elisabeth frowned. She could tell—if the person hadn't stepped in, she was the one whose chest would have been gouged out. She looked at the newcomer holding the blades. They really did resemble the Butcher...except for their hands. Their hands were human. That was it. That was her wish. That tiny, glimmering, starlike, solitary wish: to see him again. With a thousand different emotions swelling up inside her, Elisabeth Le Fanu spoke. "Kaito, is that you?" And— he nodded. 11 And with That, the World It was a tale from long, long ago. There once was a boy who was brutally killed by another, and there once was a monster who cruelly killed others. Or perhaps there was a child who was abandoned by his parents and a sinner who was abandoned by the world. By now, there was nobody left who knew how they spent their days. But the sinner was fine with that. The two of them used to be together. That was enough for her. But that was a big fat lie. In truth, she had a wish. A single, glimmering, starlike wish. For the sinner wanted, once, even just once would do, to see the boy again. The black cloak flapped away. When it did, it left behind a familiar figure dressed in a military uniform. His faded brown hair was tied up short in the back, and he had a boyish face and was short of stature. He was also underweight, and his growth had clearly been stunted. There was the person who had sacrificed himself to save the world. It was, without a doubt, Kaito Sena. He surveyed his surroundings with a quiet confidence. It was then that Elisabeth realized something odd about him. The amount of mana Kaito had in his body was far greater than it had been before. He had surpassed the point he'd been at when they called him the Mad King. In fact, given the state he'd reached... ...he can no longer be considered human. "Sorry for the wait, Elisabeth. I was gathering the pain of all God's creations, using Diablo to convert it into mana, and transferring it all into my immortal body inside the crystal. I only just got the full amount I needed. Now I have complete mastery over God." Kaito Sena's tone was calm as he spoke that unbelievable truth. Elisabeth gasped. In a sense, it was the same as the method she'd conceived of to sever their world's connection to God and Diablo. However, she never imagined that Kaito Sena himself would be the one to attain full control over God. Elisabeth found herself at a loss for words. Meanwhile, Kaito Sena snapped his fingers. It took Elisabeth a moment to realize what had happened. All traces of Diablo, including the ones in her own flesh, had vanished from the world. The ousted demon grandchildren had no doubt suffered the same fate. Kaito had forced God to recognize all of Diablo's acts of violence, including the lesser demons' acts of destruction, as "destruction carried out before the reconstruction." As such, God had rejected Diablo and expelled it from the world. It was an unthinkably grand feat, and Kaito had pulled it off with a snap of his

fingers. And yet in spite of that, Elisabeth wasn't dead. Kaito had swapped out her demonic flesh for completely normal flesh that still generated enough mana to sustain her vital functions. No mere mage could have pulled off a feat like that. At that point, Elisabeth came back to her senses. She lashed out at Kaito Sena. "You utter fool! Nobody asked you to go that far! Nobody asked you to shoulder all that!" "I mean, you say that, Elisabeth, but you're pretty beat to hell yourself. I gotta say, it's not like you. Here." Kaito Sena snapped his fingers again, and all the wounds on Elisabeth's body vanished in an instant. She blinked. It was only then that she belatedly realized that, at the moment, God and the world loved Kaito Sena with all their heart. In fact, he and God were now one and the same. His smile was the same as ever, but Kaito was something more than human. He had ascended in every sense of the word. A smidgen of despair flitted through Elisabeth's mind, but her thoughts were soon interrupted. "Why... I was supposed to be powerful... You're Kaito Sena! You're Kaito Sena, right?! What did you do?!" Alice screamed. Her voice was filled with a mix of awe and dread. Kaito quietly returned her gaze. He closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded, as though he'd just learned everything there was to know about her. "The Fremd Torturchen, Alice Carroll, Sara Yuuki... Ah." "See, you got to see him! You got to see him, Elisabeth. So why... Why? Why is it just me... Father, FAAAAATHER!" "You don't even understand the weight of your sins, do you?" Kaito remarked. "I can't just kill you. Killing you wouldn't resolve anything. So instead, let's do this." Kaito Sena snapped his fingers once more. The moment he did, Alice's golem body was transformed into a human one, and all her mana faded away. However, she didn't have a chance to get startled by her transformation. The next moment, she vanished altogether. Alice had been sent somewhere else. Elisabeth's eyes went wide. That "somewhere else" wasn't even in their world. Kaito's new influence even extended to other worlds. As he performed this outrageous feat, he chose—for some reason—to wipe some dust off his uniform. "All right, next up..." He scratched his cheek, then nodded. A long sword dropped into his hand. The inscription etched in its blade seared itself into Elisabeth's eyes. "All things are pardoned unto me. But I am ruled by none." Elisabeth was struck by a terrible premonition. She shouted at Kaito once more. "Kaito, wait! What exactly are you intending to do?!" "...Ah, right. I should've figured you'd notice." Kaito smiled awkwardly. Seeing that made Elisabeth feel like she'd just been stabbed in the chest. His smile hadn't changed a bit. Despite all the changes he'd gone through, he was still the same person. He was, and would always be, her foolish servant. For even with all that power, Kaito Sena was just Kaito Sena. And because of that, she needed to stop him. She faced him and ran her mouth a mile a minute. "I shan't allow it. Not after you only just got free of that crystal. I shan't allow it, not on my life." "But you get it, don't you, Elisabeth? People have been freed from Diablo's influence. And I've ordered God not to begin the reconstruction, but...as long as I'm around, someone's always gonna show up who tries to use me for evil. Either that or I'll just end up becoming this world's new god." Kaito paused for a moment. Elisabeth could all too easily imagine things playing out that way. People would doubtless flock to him and revere him in God's place. He gave his head a sad shake. "I'd just as soon avoid that whole mess. No good can come of having higher entities remain here." "Perhaps...but...why would you go to such lengths to protect this world?!" "Well, that's an easy one. Isn't it obvious?" Kaito smiled gently, just like he had the last time. He was the strongest person in the world. He had surpassed even God. And yet with a look of utmost admiration in his eyes, "It's because you live here, Elisabeth." "What do you intend to do about your promise?!" Elisabeth shouted the same thing she had once before. She grabbed his hand tight, desperate not to let it go. Kaito Sena could have shaken her off with ease, but he stayed put. She went on, shouting so hard she was liable to hurt her throat. "You told me, did you not?! You said you would remain by my side! You and you alone!" "And hey, you bringing me back to life and summoning me here must have been some kind of fate... So until you start walking the road to Hell, I'll try and stick by your side for as long as I can, even if I'm the only one." It was a promise the two of them had exchanged long ago. Throughout Elisabeth Le Fanu's bloody life, she was accompanied by a single foolish servant. The two of them had thought that sounded just fine. "Don't worry," Kaito had once said. "I plan on keeping it." And after preventing the reconstruction, he had gone to his slumber inside the crystal. The fact that he was shouldering the weight of the world meant that he wasn't even able to die. That had been his way of staying by Elisabeth's side. But now all he said was, "I'm sorry." With that, Kaito Sena spun his sword around and laid its slender blade against his own neck. He spoke in the voice of a person waving good-bye. "Good-bye, Elisabeth. I love you." And with that statement, full of an almost-childlike tenderness, Kaito Sena sliced open his artery. With the death of their contractor, God and Diablo vanished. Now their ability to interfere with the world was sealed away, and a blinding light seared Elisabeth's gaze. Tears gushed from her eyes and sprayed through the air. Her body felt like it was burning. Yet she refused to release that hand. She refused, in no uncertain terms, to let go. Then she could see nothing, and with that, the world was well and truly saved. And they all lived happily ever after. 12 A Little Vignette In a city made of concrete and asphalt, there sat a little street corner. On that corner, a police officer took a young girl into protective custody. She was a pretty girl with red eyes and white hair. However, her outfit was filthy, as she'd fallen over on the road. Rain streamed down as she gazed up vacantly at the sky. The officer helped her up, but she offered no reaction. Upon determining that her life wasn't in any immediate danger, the officer took the girl in to the police station. However, they couldn't figure out who she was, and the girl wouldn't tell them what happened. All she did was mutter. "Father..." "Can you tell us where your father is right now?" The girl still didn't answer. She just went on with tears in her eyes. "I have nothing. I've been left without a single solitary thing. And yet, "There was someone who cherished me. "There really was." The girl just kept repeating that over and over. As for what would become of her, there was no way for people from other worlds to say. From there, the rest was up to her. And that was all there was to that unremarkable little vignette. 13 Elisabeth's Story She was back in that old familiar castle. When she woke up, her dim-witted servant was screwing up breakfast. Beside him, her lovely maid smiled as she lifted up the dishes she'd remade into masterpieces. Elisabeth licked her lips with anticipation, and the Butcher came over to peddle his meaty wares. Their conversations were light and lively, and the hours went pleasantly by. She was dreaming. She knew she was dreaming, but she dreamed nonetheless. If she could, she'd have liked to stay in that dream for the rest of her days. But she had to wake up. For she owed her life to another. And so, Elisabeth slowly opened her eyes. The first things that entered her vision were the live flowers hanging from the ceiling. Ain and Lute were standing beside her. Upon seeing them, Elisabeth started to quietly close her eyes back up. However, Ain was one thing, but the other's person's presence didn't make sense. Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up with a start. Lute was supposed to be dead. Yet there he stood. The one difference was that one of his arms and one of his legs had been replaced with wooden prosthetics. His tail, now noticeably shorter than before, curled up as he spoke bashfully. "Sir Aguina Elephabred saved me." He went on to describe how, when he was inside the Sand Queen flesh blob, he'd heard a voice. "I said I would congratulate you if you became a father, did I not?" "I lost mine. But you didn't. This is no time for you to die." Then, before the blob had a chance to explode, Aguina had spit him out as far as he could. Later, the beastfolk medics had found him collapsed while they were gathering up the dead bodies. In her arms, Ain was cradling a young baby—a copper-furred child with the head of a wolf. By the look of it, the child took after Lute. "It's a boy," Ain said, then described how he was growing up healthy and strong. For some reason, Elisabeth's body hadn't aged a day. However, Ain and Lute told her, ten months had passed. They explained to her what had happened. Nobody with Alice's mastery over dark magic had shown up since, and by all accounts, the world had well and truly been freed from the threat Diablo posed. In the interim, Maclaeus Filliana and the surviving Kings of the Forest had forged a new treaty, and now all the races' survivors were working together as one to rebuild. "So what exactly happened at the World's End?" Ain asked her. However, Elisabeth didn't tell her the specifics. She simply gazed off into space as though searching for someone. She looked down at her palms. All the warmth they'd felt was gone now. Then, finally, she spoke. "We needn't worry about God and Diablo anymore," she said. That was all she told them, and she did so with a smile. More time passed. The red sun had just sunk in the sky, and darkness was beginning to overtake the area. A single figure was running through the night. It was a man, clad in a ne'er-do-well's stereotypical droopy hood. He was frequently glancing about as he ran. It seemed his well-practiced movement was paying off, as he didn't see any sign of his pursuers. Certain he'd successfully made another escape, he breathed a sigh of relief. That caused him to let his guard down. A slender figure fell on him from above. Someone had descended like an arrow from the rooftops, mercilessly landing on him high-heels-first. He let out an ugly scream when his attacker trampled his stomach. The voice that rang out was as cold and as sharp as a knife. "'Twas obvious your crimes would catch up with you. So why did you think you could escape me? 'Tis precisely what's so irksome about you weaklings who fail to grasp the difference in strength between you and your superiors." The man frantically looked up at his foe. Her resplendent black hair glittered in the moonlight, and her skin, which her risqué bondage dress lay bare, was captivatingly awash in the light as well. The man let out a cry filled with awe and despair. "E-Elisabeth!" "Precisely. I am the Torture Princess, Elisabeth Le Fanu." A

sadistic smile spread across the beautiful woman's face. As she pressed her foot down on the man, she made her bold declaration. "I am the proud wolf and the lowly sow." "I caaaught him." "Excellent work!" As she made her listless announcement, Elisabeth kicked the bound robber forward. The beastfolk responded with their thanks as they approached their captured foe. A bird-headed soldier dragged him down to the dungeons. Elisabeth rotated her shoulders in exasperation. Lute walked up to her and handed her a hot cup of tea. "I would expect nothing less. With this, we can strike another name off the most wanted list. He gave us the slip during that big rash of burglaries, you see, and sniffing him out was beyond us." "Well, the blame for that hardly rests with you. He was using a powerful herb to mask his scent. Anyhow, that's all, correct? I shall be taking my break now. I have an early morning tomorrow." With that, Elisabeth turned to leave. Lute watched her go, then picked up his quill pen. His days in the field were behind him, and now he spent most of his time handling paperwork. He glanced over at the portrait of the child on his desk and smiled. After surreptitiously watching him for a moment, Elisabeth closed the door behind her. Nowadays, her job once more was to help defend the peace, and she had helped bring an end to a number of major conflicts. As of a few years ago, though, the bulk of her battles had been against petty thieves. And the crime rate was on the decline. All of that was due to the fact that problems involving magic had stopped occurring as they once had. That was a result of the world being cut off from God and Diablo's influence, no doubt. Reports had come in from mages from all over about their magic not working. And the one surviving saint, La Filsell, had her wounds close up as well. Nowadays, she was hard at work trying to help bring comfort to the masses. As magic slowly died out, the world's economy and flow of goods would probably end up changing in turn. In fact, Elisabeth was certain of it. Eventually, even the Kings of the Forest would succumb to their old wounds. Many truths would be lost or distorted behind history's veil, and once they'd both lost their regents, the other races would slowly fade away. Even religious doctrines surrounding God would shift and change over time. Eventually, their world might end up becoming not unlike the one Kaito came from. And for that matter, his world might once have had a grand battle such as ours, Elisabeth mused. That said, there was no way of knowing one way or the other. It was all too easy for history to change based on who was telling it. Once she returned to her room, Elisabeth dutifully polished the personal effects on her desk—her subordinates' and Izabella's armor and a piece of metal from Jeanne's dress. Then, after putting them back in their places, she double-checked her schedule. The ceremony tomorrow might well end up marking one such shift in history's winds. For tomorrow, there was going to be a festival celebrating the twentieth year of Maclaeus's reign. Fireworks burst into the sky, though nowadays, they operated off metallic reactions rather than magic. People were singing songs, food stalls lined the streets, and cloth banners etched with white-lily coats of arms fluttered in the air as children recited passages praising the king. The humble festival was being held all through the city. Over a decade had passed since Armageddon, but they had been so focused on rebuilding that they were still using a provisional royal castle. In a sense, that just went to show how unmolested their borders had been of late. The world had seen its share of crises after the battle with Alice, but there hadn't been any large-scale invasions since. When Maclaeus came out from inside, the festivities reached their peak. The last of Elisabeth's magic was preventing her from aging, but the same couldn't be said of him. By now, Maclaeus was a man well into middle age. But when the Torture Princess came over and congratulated him in her capacity as a representative from the beastfolk lands, he shed tears all the same. Elisabeth grinned at how he hadn't changed a bit, then patted his head. "In my eyes, you are still but a youth. You've done well, Maclaeus. 'Tis hard, these days, to imagine you being the same man they once called the Craven King." That got a big laugh out of the crowd, and they all threw their handfuls of flower petals up in the air in celebration of their king. Nobody there had a bad thing to say about him. Once she had finished carrying out her duties, Elisabeth wasted no time in beating a retreat from the official festivities. Maclaeus had technically asked her to attend the banquet, but raising a glass in private later was more her speed. She stood alone and surveyed the city. The crowds were still thinner than they'd once been. Even so, though, there were still plenty of people living and making merry. A gaggle of children barreled past her, their fists full of candy. Some of them were of mixed race. The masses had very nearly come to bear deep grudges against even the mixed-race folk who hadn't supported the revolution. However, the soldiers did a thorough job of cracking down on that, and thanks to their hard work, the mixed-race people had survived. Elisabeth herself had also played a role in those efforts. These days, nobody called the Torture Princess "the Torture Princess" anymore. Many people knew of the self-sacrificing battles she'd fought, and as a result, their memories of her past misdeeds had largely faded. However, the dead never forgot. Nor did she. No day would ever come where her crimes could be forgiven. Even so, the living had poor memories. Flocks of sheep were, fundamentally, stupid. And due to that innate goodness of theirs, the Torture Princess had become just Elisabeth. It was the exact opposite of how Kaito Sena had become the Mad King. "...'Tis all your fault, Kaito. This is what you left behind." It was right then, as the murmur left Elisabeth's lips. In that moment, a strand of silver hair softly brushed her cheek. She felt as though time had just stopped. She turned back and stared into the crowd, then saw herself reflected in a pair of jeweled emerald eyes. However, their gleam soon vanished amid the hustle and bustle of the city. Elisabeth froze in her tracks. She knew those eyes. She couldn't have forgotten them if she'd tried. She broke into a run and gave chase to that familiar silver hue. She ran and ran and ran some more. All the while, she wondered if perhaps she was still dreaming. A small teleportation circle sat in a back alley. With magic fading from the world, there weren't many who could still use those. Instead of checking to see if it was trap, Elisabeth charged straight into it. A moment later, she found herself in a land with a milky-white and rainbow sky. A pair of pillars stood at the World's End. Feathers of white and black and roses of azure and crimson fluttered down from them onto the icy ground. They descended beautifully, falling like rain or snow would. Amid that gorgeous sight, a lone woman stood before the pillars. It was her dearest maid, Hina. After Kaito's death, she had gone missing. Elisabeth raced wordlessly toward that old, familiar face and nervously brushed her hand against its pale cheek. She could feel it soft under her fingertips. Hina was really there. Hina gave her a warm smile. She was holding something in her hand, and she presented it to Elisabeth with great care. "Here, Lady Elisabeth." Elisabeth peered into Hina's cupped hands. She was holding a shard of crystal. Elisabeth's eyes went wide. Inside it, tucked away like a tiny star, sat Kaito Sena's soul. Elisabeth realized exactly what had happened. Kaito's body had always been nothing more than a golem. His soul would fade away if he lost enough blood, but there would be a short window thereafter where he could be summoned back again. But even now that that window was closed, it would also have been possible to store his soul in some other receptacle for safekeeping. And a crystal that had been created by God and Diablo would have made for the perfect vessel. As Elisabeth stared dumbfounded, Hina softly explained. "This was what Master Kaito wanted. After it all happened, I feared that someone might try to use the crystal and Master Kaito's special soul for evil during the chaos of the rebuilding efforts. Between that and how my gears had largely fallen into disrepair, I had to go into hiding. But now, at long last, I can finally deliver this to you." "Is...is that so? But if that's the case, then...could it...could it be?!" "It is. Now all we need is a vessel." Elisabeth went silent for a few seconds, then burst into laughter. It was the first heartfelt laugh she'd had in over a decade. She grabbed Hina, reached her arms around her slender frame, and squeezed her tight. Tears welled up in Hina's eyes as she returned the embrace. The two of them hugged each other with all their might. Still holding each other, they began spinning atop the ice like they were sharing a dance. After a good long while of that, Elisabeth came to a stop and grabbed Hina by the hand. They looked each other in the eye and smiled once more. Then they dashed off as fast as they could. The two of them tripped and fell more than once. Even so, they never let go of each other's hands. A few months passed. Over at Elisabeth's castle, a magic circle spun into action. Magic had all but vanished from the world altogether, and this would be the circle's final activation. The momentous wish's time had come, and Hina had chosen to wait in the next room over. Elisabeth had encouraged Hina to come join her, but to no avail. "The two of you need a moment to yourselves," Hina had replied with a smile. The soul moved from the crystal to the golem Elisabeth had specially made. A long, long silence fell, one that seemed to last an eternity. Then the now-powerless boy dressed in an unbecoming butler uniform opened his eyes. Before him stood a young woman of unparalleled cruelty. Elisabeth grinned as she spoke. "O Sinless Soul, stricken down in a manner most foul. From this day forth, you shall be my loyal servant." Her tone left no room for refusal. Belatedly, Kaito realized that he was breathing, and as he let slip a small chuckle of confusion, the girl before him made a dignified proclamation. "I am the Torture Princess, Elisabeth Le Fanu. I am the proud wolf and the lowly sow." Another silence descended on them. Eventually, Kaito burst into laughter, and the corners of Elisabeth's lips curled into a smile. Kaito spoke. "Welcome home, Elisabeth." "You're the one who just came back, dullard." As she spat her insult at him, though, Elisabeth shook her head. It had been so long. As she thought of the time the three of them had spent together, and of the long, long time she had spent alone, she gave her sincere reply. "'Tis good to be back, Kaito." That marked the second meeting of the boy who was just Kaito Sena and the girl who was no longer the Torture Princess. It's time for a story. It's the story of a boy who was brutally killed by another and a story of a monster who cruelly

killed others. Or perhaps it's the story of a child who was abandoned by his parents and a hero who was abandoned by the world. It's a story of what happened after the two of them parted ways. For that was when the tale of admiration, folly, and love ended, and when the tale everyone built up of repentance, hatred, and dreams began. It was, in the end, a story that needed to be ended. And so, she took up her sword. And so, they drew their blades. It's time for a story. A story of repentance, hatred, and dreams. A story in which she and they dreamed of saving the world. A story they dreamed with all their might, even if it meant throwing themselves to the wolves. And it's the story of the tiny wish that followed that dream.