The feeling of being filled with power, how can it be described?
Yeah… It’s like when a priest heals you and your drained holy power is replenished.
Only, there’s a clear difference from holy power, which is:
‘It’s rough.’
Sssss-.
Dark, rough, damp, and fierce energy. There’s a definite difference from holy power.
But, one thing is for sure:
I feel like I can do anything.
And, in reality:
KWAHHH-!
“W-What is that!?”
I can do anything.
The warriors of the enemy kingdom look at the ominous blue energy clinging to my greatsword and panic. They too must sense it—this energy emanating from me now is completely different from before.
What kind of power has the fallen angel Lucifer given me? In the heat of the moment, I hastily made a contract without fully understanding what kind of strength he bestowed upon me.
Still, Lucifer kept his promise. He gave me the power to save everyone, as I had wished. I can feel it coursing through my whole body.
“HYAAHHH!”
My greatsword vibrates. The sword bellows with immense force, and I swing it.
The aftermath is tremendous.
KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-!
The greatsword saturated with dark energy unleashes the devilish power. A crescent-shaped aura stretches hundreds of meters, slicing through everything in its path.
Armor, spears, shields, and flesh—all are powerless against this aura. This isn’t just any ordinary sword aura anymore.
Energy builds and stacks infinitely, overlapping. A strike that would’ve been impossible with just one thread of energy becomes possible with hundreds overlapping.
A new realm—I instinctively realized it. This is the
“Aaaah! My arm, my arm!”
“Lord Vise! Get up! Open your eyes!”
“Everyone, be careful! Here it comes again!”
Completely different from before, I swing my greatsword once more. Just moments ago, my limbs were exhausted, but now they’re brimming with monstrous strength.
The sword feels as light as a feather. I don’t need to muster all my strength for every swing; I could attack continuously. With overflowing power, I unleash an attack I’d never dared attempt normally.
SHUUUUUWAHHH-!
My greatsword slashes left and right effortlessly. Nothing stands in its way. Spears, whether iron or wood, shatter like bundles of straw upon touching my aura. An indescribable thrill takes over my mind.
Bones, flesh, and blood spray wildly. “Rending of flesh and bone” would be the perfect term. With every swing of my sword, countless lives vanish meaninglessly.
Thump, thump…
CHIIIIIINGGGG-!
“AAAAAH! Everyone, run!”
“It can’t be blocked with shields! We have to evade somehow!”
“Damn it! How do we dodge attacks flying everywhere… KRAAAH!”
Thump, thump…
With every swing of my sword, hundreds collapse. It feels like I’ve become some extraordinary being. With a flick of my hand, dozens die, and with a step, hundreds scatter in terror.
…Am I not extraordinary?
“R-Run! There’s no way to fight back or even resist!”
“Aaah! J-Just kill me quickly! You monster!”
“Where did she get this power all of a sudden?! Can holy power really be this overwhelming?”
The warriors of the enemy kingdom flee in terror. Resistance is futile.
This isn’t a battle. It’s a massacre. Like a lone starving lion among sheep.
The scent of blood blooms thickly in the air. My mind is invaded by its metallic tang. Blood fills the surroundings.
My power, my sword…
Is this strong.
KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-!
Everyone looks at me with fearful eyes. I trample the weak and stride forward as a victorious hero.
At the tip of my sword, countless enemies are torn apart. No one dares to stop me. Overwhelmed by my superior force, their will to fight has vanished.
Standing as the mighty, I cleave through the weak. The feeble have no place on the battlefield standing upright. That was me until just now, and now it’s the enemy kingdom’s warriors.
I should feel shame. This is the devil Lucifer’s power, not something I cultivated drop by drop through hard training. I shouldn’t boast about this power.
I betrayed the Lord. As an apostle walking the path of faith, I shouldn’t have turned away from the Lord and accepted Lucifer’s power. Thus, feeling ashamed would be the proper reaction.
SHUUUUUWAHHH-!
< The Lord did not answer my plea. >
< Yet, the devil extended a hand of salvation at my most desperate moment. >
Whose side am I on?
The Lord I trusted all my life but abandoned me?
Or the devil who watched over me and offered help, despite whatever ulterior motives it may have had?
Though impulsive, now that I’ve made a pact with the devil, I can say it:
The devil is truly my savior.
“The ranks are collapsing! Quickly reorganize!”
“You do it! It’s impossible to stop her!”
“Damn it…! We’re almost winning on the main front!”
“Ah, that’s right.”
There was the main army.
Lost in the intoxicating superiority of newfound power, I’d forgotten something important. I almost made a huge mistake.
Without hesitation, I pushed off the ground to rush toward the main army. With the enemy kingdom’s flank unit nearly annihilated by me, I didn’t need to worry much about them.
PAANG!
Just pushing off the ground makes the earth ripple like water. Such is the intensity of my leg strength.
In one leap, I cover hundreds of meters. It feels like I’ve become a god. Now I understand why pride is said to be the devil Lucifer’s symbol. Anyone possessing such power would inevitably become arrogant.
Flying through the air like I’m riding the sky, I see the chaotic clash between the enemy kingdom’s soldiers and the First Holy Knights. At their center, my father and the commander of the enemy kingdom, Agasilias, are locked in a fiery duel.
Streams of crimson blood and waves of holy power collide, swirling into a tornado. The countless sparks flying between them forbid anyone from stepping between Father and Agasilias.
However, the moment I saw their duel, I realized:
This is my chance.
While that monstrous Agasilias is distracted fighting Father, this is the only opportunity to ambush him and capture that beast.
Agasilias, undisputedly the strongest warrior on the continent. Born lame, he rose through ceaseless effort and combat to claim the throne of the enemy kingdom. A legendary figure who dared to challenge dragons alone and returned alive.
If this were a private setting, I’d show respect and refrain from ambushing him.
But this is the battlefield. A savage arena where victors and losers are decided, not etiquette.
I merely fight and kill.
KWAHHHHH-!
“What? When!?”
I swing the black aura. Compared to when I used holy power, the massive size of the enormous aura is dozens of times bigger than my greatsword—a crazy-sized blade descends upon Agasilias.
Father and Agasilias’ eyes widen in shock at my intervention. Their startled expressions barely register before horror spreads across their faces.
“Bea-trice! What is this power? Why is your sword black!?”
“Holy Knight Beatrix? You ran off to the left earlier… What happened to the left flank… Did it… perish entirely?”
I don’t give Agasilias time to prepare against my attack. Using the momentum and acceleration I gathered while charging, I launch a direct strike at him.
A fatal blow he cannot block. Agasilias immediately tries to swing his spear my way, but—
“Your Holiness!”
At my cry, Father suddenly regains focus and infuses even more power into the greatsword he was already struggling with.
CRACKKK!
“GRRR…! These bastards…!”
Through clenched teeth, Agasilias groans, realizing the peril he’s in. But it’s already too late. My sword has been unleashed.
“HAAAP!”
Black auras flash. A mountain-sized blade crashes down on Agasilias’s head. In the next instant, Agasilias is split in two. Just now, I cut through the toughest thing I’ve ever faced.
“M-Master!”
“Our master has fallen!”
Deprived of their central figure, the enemy kingdom’s warriors fall into chaos. Then, they start retreating en masse, stumbling and fleeing. Losing their highest combatant must instill unimaginable fear in them.
Tumbling, falling, escaping, entangled—they trample each other, causing numerous injuries and deaths. The scene resembles hell—it oddly feels good.
I chased after them. I didn’t want to let live these heretics who dared to attack our church. Though I heard Father calling me from behind, for some reason, it didn’t reach my ears.
All I could hear were the screams of the heretics losing their lives.
“Aaaaaah!”
“Damn it! Kill me! I’ll hate you forever in hell!”
“KRAAAH! P-Please spare me!”
“Don’t come closer! Don’t come closer… AAAAH!”
Death chases from behind.
Death pursues life.
I am death, and they are life.
To them, I pronounce righteous judgment and bloody revenge.
SHUUUUUWAHHH-!
Under normal circumstances, throwing oneself alone into enemy lines would be pure madness.
But not now. The growing strength proves it. The countless enemy kingdom warriors who can’t even flail against my sword prove it.
Thus, cutting, cutting, and cutting again…
When I finally stopped hacking away at everything in sight until all I could see was crimson blood—
In front of me stood a mountain not marked on any map.
A mountain made of corpses and weapons.
“…Sir Beatrix.”
Father’s voice reached me. Lowering my greatsword that had done such a great deed, I turned my head.
My head felt numb. I’d killed too many people. Cold sweat trickled down my neck. The superior pleasure of violence and killing hadn’t yet faded. Tension crawled around my entire body.
There’s an aftereffect. A bad one. Feelings a devout holy knight shouldn’t experience—confusion, guilt, stress. Emotions that gnaw at the human spirit rise up in droves.
The enemy kingdom is our adversary that attacked our church. If I hadn’t killed them, the people of our church would have died. My killings were justified.
—While grappling with such internal conflict.
Reality I’d forgotten came rushing back.
“Can you explain this power?”
Father asks.
“Blasphemy! Blasphemy! That is clearly not the holy power granted by the Lord!”
“Dark, ominous, and damp… Is that… demonic energy?”
“Demonic energy?! Surely not! Could the proud Sir Beatrix of our church possibly wield demonic energy?!”
“But then, how do we explain this power…”
The elders murmur.
“Scary… Big sister’s clothes are soaked red…”
“It’s not just the bloodstains… The color of the energy wrapped around her sword is completely…”
“Isn’t this blasphemous? Can a holy knight blessed by the Lord use anything other than holy power?”
“…But thanks to that power, everyone survived…”
“Should we convene a religious tribunal…? This doesn’t seem like natural elemental magic…”
The commoners grow restless.
Why are you looking at me like that?
Didn’t I save you?
If I hadn’t made a pact with the devil, you’d all be dead by now.
As I gradually realize what I’ve done…
My heart grows increasingly restless.
Eventually, because I openly used the devil’s power in front of everyone, I was brought to trial.
Public opinion was fairly positive toward me. I explained that I had to make a pact with Lucifer to save His Holiness and the holy knights, and since my conduct had always been impeccable, most people believed me.
And the verdict handed down was…
Surprisingly lenient toward me.
“Although it is customary to execute those who make pacts with devils, considering the noble intentions behind this contract, the admirable heart, past achievements of Sir Beatrix, and her reluctant acceptance of the devil’s offer…”
“A mercy of hanging is extended to Sir Beatrix, who was unfortunately ensnared by this terrible contract.”
Yeah, it was really, extremely lenient.
Because there’s life and death.
Most people would consider life better than death, but there’s also life worse than death.
Like, say, a life bound by a pact with the devil. The church genuinely thought they were showing me “mercy” by sentencing me to hang—granting me an escape so I wouldn’t be swayed by the wicked devil and lose faith in the Lord.
A sort of martyrdom. Providing a way out through death to keep me from being corrupted by evil.
Except, there’s one problem.
My heart has already turned away from the Lord.
And I want to live, no matter the pact with the devil or anything else.
Fortunately, at least, what awaited me wasn’t a disgraceful death. Normally, those declared heretics in religious trials are sentenced to burning at the stake, but I received the church’s “mercy” of hanging instead.
So, imprisoned and waiting for the day of execution…
“D-Director!”
“Lucio?”
CLANK!
Lucio, once one of my subordinate holy knights, rushed in, unlocking the prison door. How did he get the key? And why is he so urgent?
“I’ve prepared an escape route! Hurry, run!”
“…! Lucio! You…!”
“Damn it, how could anyone deserve to die, Director?! For heaven’s sake, you saved us!”
The reason became clear in Lucio’s next shout.
“I heard about the pact with the devil! But ultimately, you did it to save us knights! Faith is important, sure, but how can that outweigh life?! People come first, then faith—not the other way around!”
“Lucio…! If you’re caught doing this…!”
“It won’t if we don’t get caught! I don’t want to do this either! But I owe my life to you, Director, so I have no choice! Damn it, Director, you’re too rigid! You’ve always been like that, but sometimes you need to break rules or orders for the greater good!”
With the key Lucio somehow procured, he unlocked the iron bars and freed me. Though confused by the sudden turn of events, I knew exactly what I needed to do.
I must survive.
I must escape.
Lucio was right.
People come first, then faith—not the other way around.
Perhaps it’s a flimsy rationalization for survival, but having turned away from the Lord, I agreed with Lucio and escaped from the prison.
Afterward, I didn’t look back, running only for survival.
I had to get out of the Holy Emperor’s Palace and go somewhere completely different. Even if I ended up alone, I couldn’t accept death. It was strange.
When I charged into battle with only holy power against the enemy kingdom, I thought dying for my comrades was fine.
Now, infused with demonic energy, the primal desire to live surged infinitely.
Quickly grabbing my greatsword, I mounted the horse Lucio provided and began galloping toward the castle gate.
Some tried to stop me along the way, but I ignored and bypassed them. I had the strength and agility to do so.
How long did I ride?
Around evening twilight, when I reached the eastern gate of the Holy Emperor’s Palace, there stood a giant man blocking the gate, his stern face gazing toward me as the sunset approached.
My father, Pope Constantine of the Holy Church.
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