Chapter 28

KABOOM-!

The squishy flesh slips through my fingers as I grip the pocketknife. A sticky substance oozes over the gloves on my hand.

With a gargle, blood trickles from Retavis’ mouth, streaming down the pristine white gloves on mine.

The sight of red blood always intoxicates me, awakening every nerve in my body like a lightning strike.

“Guuuuh…gurgh…”

When performing a show, you check if it’s a success or failure by observing the audience’s reaction.

There are two types of audience reactions to a successful show. Either they go wild with screams, OR…

“Haha, standing there with your mouth agape and dazed moans? My performance must have impressed you!”

They become completely entranced, staring blankly while letting out faint sounds.

“Ugh…kh, kheee…”

Ah, is it because I’ve covered your mouth? Doesn’t matter. Controlling and handling the audience is the basic qualification of a ‘veteran magician’ or ‘great director’.

WHAM-!

“Aiya! Trying to counter even with your neck slit open? Truly, a demon! Fits your reputation as brainless brutes who live on tenacity and perseverance!”

“Urgh…grrraaahh…”

Mumbling unintelligible threats about killing me, Retavis tightens his jaw. Since I have my hand inside his mouth, he’s trying to bite through my wrist at the connection point.

Not a bad move. Even rocks crumble under a demon’s bite – there’s no way it can’t sever a mere human wrist.

Though I do have two body parts that absolutely cannot be lost, what can’t someone do when facing death?

“RAAAAAAAAHHH!”

He tries to slice off my wrist with extreme biting force.

CRUNCHHHH.

“But…”

“Massage feels good. My wrists were feeling a bit stiff lately, but this makes them feel so much better.”

“Guh…wha..?”

“Aren’t you wondering why it’s not cutting?”

A veteran magician prepares for all possibilities.

Retavis, whose desperate counterattack has failed, looks up at me in shock with wide eyes. I wave my left hand, which hasn’t been holding the pocket knife, in front of him. My left hand is covered only by a pure white glove that I’ve worn since leaving the mansion.

“See this? Hehe.”

“Gruuuh…”

“It just looks like an ordinary white cotton glove, right? Actually! It really IS just an ordinary white cotton glove! Except for the fact that it’s woven from threads taken directly from the cocoon of Spider King Arachne!”

Spider King Arachne. One of the Five Kings ruling Demon Forest, Arachne stands shoulder-to-shoulder with Beast King Horus and Dragon King Endros as an absolute powerhouse.

Naturally, the spider silk personally woven by Arachne isn’t ordinary. Stronger than admantium, it can’t be torn or damaged by any attack.

It never stains with substances like blood, always maintaining its pure white color. It completely blocks the wearer’s energy from leaking out and completely shields against external impacts. It even gives the wearer the sensation of not wearing anything at all, making it my favorite magic tool back in my previous life.

You might wonder why I called it “ordinary.” I understand. But fundamentally, whether something is ordinary or not is subjective. Whether it’s Arachne’s cotton glove or whatever, if I consider it ordinary, then that’s that.

“Your teeth must be hurting by now. Can’t even muster strength in your jaw anymore.”

“RRAAAHHHH!”

PUUUUSH! CRUNCH!

Suddenly, Retavis lets out a scream. Not a desperate attempt to fight back, but a cry of pain. Having removed the pocket knife from his throat, I begin slashing around inside.

Epiglottis, esophagus, vocal cords, arteries. Various soft tissues made of flesh and blood are scattered apart by my hands. The mechanisms composing the machine known as Retavis gradually break down due to this single driver known as me.

SLURCH.

“GRRRAAAAH!”

I spot a thick vein like a tendon. Unable to resist my curiosity, I slash it off in one swift motion. Blood fountains violently from Retavis’ nose and mouth.

Ah, that must be the artery. Imagining the pain he’s feeling makes me wince. Such a stimulating thought for someone with a weak stomach like me.

“Hey sis, could you try to be more refined? Your bleeding is getting all over my clothes.”

“Gruh…guh…”

“Why am I calling you sis? You’ve lost your balls, haven’t you? Surely you’re not thinking you’re still male just because you have a spine?”

After that, I kept slashing blindly with my unseen hand, but Retavis didn’t die easily despite reacting violently each time. That’s how tenacious demons are, like cockroaches.

Probably won’t die easily unless I properly cut off his head.

Hmm… Just slashing insides is getting a bit monotonous…

It is a grotesque scene. Cutting the throat and esophagus from inside the mouth is cruel enough to excite even me, who’s tried almost every kind of madness.

But something feels lacking.

I know why. I know exactly why I find this current stabbing and this massacre scene dull.

“Boring.”

“Gruh…”

“When filleting fish, there’s no satisfaction without wriggling live fish, right? That’s how I feel right now.”

“IIIIEEEEEEEE…”

“You’ve accepted death or resigned yourself, showing no reaction at all. So boring. How is this different from dissecting a corpse?”

Is there any way to make this killing more enjoyable? Something that would stimulate my interest?

It’s an extremely difficult and complex problem. To regain interest in a toy that’s already lost its appeal.

But who am I? I’m a wandering seeker of mysteries, someone who welcomes obstacles. Finding existing answers is easier for me than breathing.

“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Just then, Retavis suddenly kicked the ground, pretending to have resigned until now.

Rising his upper body, he moves his mouth deeper. If he does that, my pocket knife will penetrate his internal organs, yet he’s willing to risk that dangerous situation to…

SHIIICK!

CRUNCH!

I quickly withdraw my hand, leaving the dagger behind.

That was close. My arm would have been severed if I had been half a centimeter slower. Though the idea of living like a pirate captain with a hook instead of a hand did intrigue me, a magician’s hands are his life.

As my life flashed before my eyes, Retavis used every last ounce of strength to find a way to survive. His desperate plan was to take a bite out of my uncovered forearm along with everything else.

Either way, it’s all or nothing. Retavis’ plan worked perfectly, and after throwing the pocket knife into his body, I withdrew my hand.

He’ll feel his insides being torn every time he moves, but it’s better than dying outright. Smart move, Retavis.

“KRAAAACK! Cough! Gruh…”

Clutching his newly freed neck with one hand, Retavis glares at me with murderous intent.

What to do… Lost my magic tool.

And none of my assistants are here.

Habitually extending my left hand forward while moving my right hand to my pocket. The dazzling left hand buys time to prepare the next magic trick, while the right hand uses that time to find a solution.

CRUNCH.

I feel something solid at the tip of my fingers. A piece of metal shaped like two sticks crossed, measuring 12 cm vertically and 7 cm horizontally.

What to do now, this thing is utterly useless in the current situation. There’s no way he’d swallow a pocket knife whole. Impressive determination.

BOLT UP!

Suddenly, Retavis, who had been clutching his neck and catching his breath, lunges at me.

“RAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

From his roar, I can sense how desperate Retavis is right now. He’s using his very last strength to make his limbs work and charge at me.

“RAAAAAAAAAAAHHH! UGH! UGHHHH!”

“…This is getting dangerous. It’s fun that it’s becoming exciting, but this is getting too thrilling…”

Covered in blood vessels bursting and reddened skin, Retavis attempts to crush me from above. This strategy is possible because his height is nearly twice mine.

Demons truly are an incredible race, with such tenacious vitality. This area is already soaked in the blood Retavis has spilled. A human would have died five or six times by now.

WHOOSH!

Seeing Retavis’ shadow falling over me, I quickly pull out something from my pocket and throw it.

A solid object with sharp edges. My current magic prop, a rosary formed by attaching a shorter stick vertically to a longer one.

I need to buy some time first. As something left by the saintess, it should be treated with care, but since it’s made from the most sacred ore in the continent, it shouldn’t break.

At the moment the rosary touches the charging Retavis’ body…

CREEEEEEEEK!

“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”

“…Oh?”

Something unexpected happened to both me and Retavis.

The fierce and savage momentum disappeared, and Retavis jumps back as if electrocuted by strong static electricity. Black smoke rises from where the rosary touched his shoulder.

Retavis stops retreating several meters away. Behind him lies the cliff where Leonard fell.

With his path blocked, Retavis finally has time to look around and gazes at me with somewhat clearer eyes.

More specifically, at the black rosary that flew out, hit him, bounced off, and returned to my grasp.

A shocked silence lingers between us. Both of us are dumbfounded. I look at the rosary in my hand in bewilderment.

The rosary is glowing.

Only now do I understand what’s happening and why the rosary is doing this.

“Eureka.”

I’ve got it. A very interesting idea. A grand concept that will breathe life into this boring fight.

Rosary.

Cross.

Rosario.

Whatever you call it, the important thing is that this cross possesses the immense power to destroy the ugly race of demons with divine power upon contact.

“Do you want to know what this is? Why don’t you experience it firsthand?”

This item always carried by the member of the Holy Order possessing the most divine power. This cross is essentially a death note for demons and monsters.

Divine power repels demonic energy. It defines evil forces and punishes those who dare to defy the Lord’s teachings with overwhelming power. The reason I convulsed when the saintess tried to infuse me with divine power to heal me during our meeting in Tartarus.

Though the saintess’ genuine divine power, which consumed her own lifespan, managed to heal me despite the species barrier.

The fact that I can touch this cross with bare hands must be because she gave it to me personally. Otherwise, it wouldn’t make sense.

“Ugh…ugh…”

Retavis’ eyes widen to the size of saucers. His mouth is already torn to shreds, hanging loosely, leaving nothing to comment on.

He must have seen the black cross in my right hand. Despite being black, it likely blended into the night as camouflage, but now it shines brighter than anything.

I deliberately raise the cross high for him to see clearly.

“Ugh! Ugh! Ughaaa…”

To demons, a cross is a cursed object that shouldn’t even be looked at. Possessing a cross alone is punishable by immediate execution, and in severe cases, by the extreme punishment of fiery death.

Of course, as with all crimes, you’re innocent until caught.

Thus, I am a virtuous and exemplary demon. A model law-abiding demon.

“Ugh! Ugh! Ughhhh!”

After recognizing the cross, Retavis shrinks like a mouse in front of a cat. To him, a native of the Demon Realm, the saintess’ rosary is truly a terrifying object.

Ah, this is fun. Explosive reactions, and it’s amusing how this small object in my hand controls Retavis so comically.

“Sis, let’s dance beautifully! The title is ‘A Walz of One Demon Night’!”

“Oh! Oh yeah! Oh yeah!”

“Don’t run away! How can we harmonize without sticking together? Don’t be shy! I’ll lead skillfully!”

Driven by the desire to swing the cross as soon as possible, I quickly put on a white mask and rush toward Retavis. With the cliff behind him, he tries to dodge to the left.

I swiftly position myself in front of Retavis and press him against the edge of the cliff. Then, he tries to break through forcefully with his back.

CREEEEEEEEK!

When I casually extend my hand and touch his shoulder with the cross, he immediately screams and retreats. Its lethality far exceeds that of the pocket knife.

“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”

“Pay attention to the rhythm! Doing reckless charges like that ruins the flow, you know.”

The black rosary now emits a light that is paradoxically the brightest and purest in the world. The gentle glow that always surrounded the saintess in Tartarus becomes more vibrant around the cross.

Having detected its proper target for eradication, it enters purification mode.

While I’m fine thanks to some unknown resistance, the holy light is like molten lava to demons and monsters. The most hideous creation of the god of evil cannot endure the brilliance of divine power.

Let alone when the actual cross touches the skin of a demon.

CREEEEEK. Snap.

“GUH! GUH!”

The shoulder melts away effortlessly, shocking both Retavis and me. Who would’ve thought it would annihilate the contacted area just by touching?

Once again, I realize how stupid priests were. They always waved this incredibly lethal weapon in front of demons, monsters, and devils while shouting ‘In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!’

Partly because this is the saintess’ cross, making its divine power stronger.

With the shoulder gone, the arm falls off. Losing all fighting spirit from the unreal pain and situation, Retavis loses his will to fight.

The lost fighting spirit awakens forgotten fear. Despite his stiff body, he manages to move awkwardly.

Retavis tries to escape the radius of the cross I hold, moving his legs any way he can.

Can he, you fool?

“Sis! Where are you going? The waltz isn’t over yet!”

“Ugh! Ugh! KRAAAH!”

“Don’t worry and follow my steps carefully! One, two! One, two… Oops! Our feet got tangled!”

I firmly step on Retavis’ escaping foot with mine. He’s so weakened that I can hold him for about three seconds. That’s plenty.

SMACK! CREEEK!

“GUUUUUH!”

“Follow my rhythm! You know, I’m actually a gentle man!”

CRACK! THUD! BANG!

Swinging the cross joyfully, I beat – no, melt – various parts of Retavis’ body.

He struggles desperately to escape, but I start by swinging the cross down at his lower body, cutting off – no, melting – his legs.

With both legs gone, Retavis collapses face-down, flailing his remaining arm uselessly.

I kneel devoutly in front of him and repeatedly raise and lower – no, melt – the cross.

Flashes of light flash like crazy. Justice beams fall from the sky. Blood-soaked flesh and mucus spread everywhere on the ground.

This is the will of the Lord, the judgment of God.

If someone asks me how this is the will of God when I’m the one wielding the rosary, I’ll answer thus:

Because I am the apostle of the Lord.

Isn’t it? I received the rosary directly from the saintess, the Lord’s closest daughter, and received the love of the most noble and pure saintess in the world. Though I haven’t been baptized, I almost received the saintess’ first kiss.

Therefore, from now on, I am the apostle of God. Also a whimsical magician, the first filmmaker, and a mischievous troublemaker appropriate for my age.

WHAM! THUD! CRUNCH! BANG!

A pitiful demon dies under the light emitted by the great and merciful saintess. The killer is me.

I mercilessly transmit love to this young demon who’s losing his life in real-time.

Is this love? Yes, it is love. It’s the love of a peculiar apostle created by the benevolent Lord. Using God’s product of love, I’m spreading love abundantly.

Though it may not seem like it, I truly love Retavis.

Another term for love is pain. Same context. There’s little difference between lovers’ love and God’s bestowed love.

Please don’t judge with the outdated standards set by old fogies. Though if you dislike it, there’s nothing I can do.

THWACK! CREEEEK! CRUNCH!

Committing evil with the cross. The cross commits evil. The Lord’s holy artifact is used as a tool of slaughter.

Good and evil switch places. The most fallen creation of God wields the Lord’s grace.

Revenge named purification blooms at my fingertips.

“…”

“…”

Retavis stops groaning. His heartbeat has stopped, and his form has completely disappeared. Not just beaten, but purified from head to toe by the rosary’s divine power.

The show is over. Because the only audience has left.

Wherever he went, I don’t know. Perhaps to the afterlife, hell, or heaven. No one knows what happens after death. But if the great Lord I’ve started believing in today exists, He would know.

After a good show ends, something remains. Cleanup and afterglow. I want to savor the afterglow now.

My heart is pounding from the rare act of killing after a long time in this life. “If you can’t avoid it, enjoy it” is my life motto.

Measures need to be taken for Adela, who’s probably confused in my room right now, and for Mother Small, whom I roughly tied up and left behind. This place needs to be finished too. But those can wait.

What I need to do now…

“HOOOOOOOOUUUP!”

Breathing in deeply, I take in the refreshing night air of the Demon Realm.

“WHOOOOOOO!”

Exhaling deeply, I enjoy the heavy smell of blood. This is enough for today.

I feel incredibly refreshed. Partly because I succeeded in revenge I couldn’t achieve in my previous life, partly because I’ve gained a new name as the apostle of God. And because I’ve gained a new mother.

My mother, Lord. From today, I shall enthusiastically continue the purification activities in Your name.

So please, watch over me closely from now on.

Your most virtuous son, Oscar Lucifer –

***

THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD…

My vision blurs and consciousness fades.

Where was this place again?

Ah, yes. Endros Cliff. I came here tricked by my youngest brother Oscar and witnessed a shocking scene.

The sight of my younger brother committing genocide among our kind without any hesitation.

I felt awkward seeing him do things I couldn’t even imagine doing.

But why am I in this state now?

Why is Oscar on top of me, striking me down with that monstrous thing?

Where did he get such a monstrous thing?

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

More painful than the burning sensation of my flesh being seared is, more agonizing than the feeling of my intestines being shredded by the pocket knife, is the fact that I can’t offer any resistance and can only wait for this presence in front of me to finish me off.

Oscar is wearing a mask I don’t know when he put on. His pure white magician’s hat, snow-like white mask, and spotless white suit combine with the bright radiance emitted by the black cross to create a blinding light. The red splatters scattered amidst it all fit disturbingly well.

[Is this…a demon?]

No.

This is far beyond what a mere demon could be.

A demon is a black existence embodying inherent evil and desires. But this thing is completely covered in white from head to toe and is beating me to death with the cross, a holy artifact of the sun god.

Who could call this a demon?

[This is…an angel.]

Completely adorned in pure white, it’s unmistakably the figure of an angel.

[The most wicked and cruel angel in the world.]

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