Chapter 7

“Would you like to pray with me?”

The Saintess asked, as she always did, with a gentle smile.

It’s truly amazing. How is it that only her smile shines so brightly in this pitch-black Tartarus? Judging by her pale complexion, divine power doesn’t seem to be overflowing from her.

“Nah, I don’t believe in God.”

“The Lord resides in your heart; He will reveal Himself when you truly wish to believe.”

“I only believe in myself. Are you telling me to pray to myself now?”

“Hmm, it’s better than doing nothing at all.”

The Saintess forced a black rosary into my right hand, which was bound in chains, and gently clasped my large hand with her small ones.

The Saintess moved her delicate lips.

“Relax your grip.”

“But I’m not gripping that hard?”

“The rosary isn’t going anywhere. Why clench your fist so tightly?”

“Huh, you’re right.”

I must have been subconsciously tensing my right hand. It’s a habit formed from constantly fighting.

“Lord of Demons, may I speak to you about fists?”

“Do it. What could go wrong?”

“When you tightly clench your fist, there’s nothing left inside. But when you open your palm, the world fills it.”

Like delivering a holy gospel, the Saintess spoke with an uplifted face.

“That’s true, but there’s something you don’t know, Saintess.”

That annoyed me a little, so I gave my own response – completely opposite to the Saintess’ philosophy.

“Fists are meant to smash arrogant bastards who think they own everything. Didn’t know that?”

“Is that so?”

“Of course. Money? Treasures? Power? Who cares about that stuff. Those coin-toting bastards are disgusting.”

“How amusing.”

The Saintess chuckled lightly. She never calls me wrong, no matter what I say.

“Well then, pray away.”

“Thanks for the consideration.”

“Now, repeat after me.”

The Saintess pressed her forehead against my right hand holding the rosary and began murmuring devoutly. She kept nudging my waist, urging me to follow along, so I reluctantly opened my mouth.

Who would’ve thought I’d end up praying? Living for five hundred years, this might be worth it, though it feels kinda cheap.

“To the glorious Lord who granted me this day, your humble servant offers thanks.”

“Chaos, shed your tears and flood this wretched continent!”

“And upon this pitiful lamb, bestow your mercy and grace.”

“Unless you do, I’ll blow up your altar first… Saintess, why do you keep making me sound pathetic?”

“Foolish me, grant wisdom to convert this demon.”

Ah, being called foolish and pitiful while being asked to repent. Who exactly is supposed to repent here?

Repent? That’s impossible. I’m Oscar Lucifer, second-in-command of the Demon King’s Army, Duke of the Northern Territory of the Demon Realm, Joker of a thousand tricks. The one who plunged the continent into apocalyptic chaos – I need dreams with at least some possibility.

“Saintess, a visitor requests an audience.”

While praying strangely with the Saintess, Kelt’s deep voice cut through.

Kelt’s voice trembled slightly, suppressing barely contained anger.

…Anger? Why?

This is Kelt, who only showed slight hostility when Lilith, the Western Duchess of the Demon Realm, visited. Yet now he’s openly displaying emotion.

Seems like this visitor isn’t ordinary.

“Let them enter.”

“…Enter.”

At the Saintess’ permission, Kelt looked beyond the iron bars and spoke. Though brief, his voice carried various fierce emotions.

“Understood.”

Heavy footsteps approached.

Tartarus gradually revealed the silhouette of a girl.

“Ma… Is that Maria? Is it really you?”

The girl, the visitor, carefully spoke.

As always, the Saintess standing near the iron bars flinched at the voice.

The girl’s appearance became clearer in the darkness… Huh?

What is she doing here? With what face? What shame?

“Are you…?”

The Saintess’ voice wavered thinly, filled with sorrow, regret, grief, and longing.

I knew the reason.

“Hero?”

“It’s been a while, Maria.”

“Yes, it has been.”

“Did you do well these past days?”

The girl, looking at the Saintess as always, lowered her voice gloomily upon seeing the crimson bandage covering the Saintess’ eyes.

“Judging by your appearance, probably not…”

“It’s not something the Hero should apologize for.”

“Geez… In the end, it’s all my fault…”

“It’s alright.”

The Saintess’ voice quickly calmed down, but hidden within it was a strange emotion.

“All that is past.”

I thought I understood what that strange emotion was.

Hatred.

No matter how kindhearted the Saintess may be, or how much she feels sad and regretful toward the Hero…

Betrayal by someone she trusted most isn’t something easily forgotten. It’s on a different level compared to Lilith’s betrayal.

“Um… Maria, I came today because…”

The Hero’s vocal cords quivered like sobbing. After great difficulty, the Hero brought out prepared words.

“I’m sorry… I really wanted to say that…”

“After defeating the Legion Commander, I saw hope! But… You saw it too, didn’t you? The Demon King!”

“The Demon King, you mean.”

“The towering red horns piercing through clouds, the fog spewing from those black eyes covering the sky – that overwhelming presence! You saw it too, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“Ugh…! Sorry! That wasn’t why I came here… I keep making excuses…”

Frey Dr. Siegfried.

Eldest daughter of the founding noble family Siegfried, second in graduation from the prestigious Eden Academy after the Saintess, a genius cultivated from childhood as a hero with millennia of talent, excellent mentors, and top-notch education – a monster created from all these factors aligning perfectly.

But ultimately, just a failure.

Frey Dr. Siegfried, the “Indomitable Hero” who led the “Hero Party” including the Saintess, overcoming countless adversities…

In the final war, she cowered before the Demon King, pressing her head to the ground in submission, becoming the “Cowardly Hero.”

With their center lost, the Continental Alliance Army disintegrated, falling one by one to the Demon King’s Army.

Even the Holy Nation’s desperate resistance was nullified when Emperor Julius cut off his own arm to surrender.

The Saintess Maria, cornered at the edge of the cliff, fought a grueling twenty-one-day battle alone against the Demon King’s Army until captured by the Demon Realm’s Fourth Duchess.

And ended up a fellow death-row inmate with me.

In this tangled web of despair…

How can the Saintess, who almost lost all strength yet never abandoned the continent, and the Hero, who surrendered immediately upon facing the Demon King, reconcile properly?

“I’m sorry… I’m really sorry…”

“Hero.”

Of course, if we trace cause and effect, I’m the biggest enemy here. The two people suffering most are victims of none other than me.

Breaking apart the Continental Alliance through the ‘Lianheng Strategy’ was also my doing. Though the continentals believe it was the work of the mysterious ‘Birusu’.

That ‘Birusu’ is just one of many masks I wear.

But hey… Since no one knows I’m Joker, what does it matter? As long as the results are good, that’s all that counts.

“People make mistakes.”

“Eh?”

“What truly matters is reflecting on and repenting for one’s errors.”

“But… Because of my wrong choice, so many people died!”

“Repent to those souls by correcting everything now. That’s the greatest atonement the Hero can make.”

Wow, look at the Saintess showing mercy even to the Hero.

What? Correct everything? Utterly unrealistic.

It’s too late. The Demon King has conquered the continent. The Hero Party is either dead or, like the Saintess, disabled survivors. What is there to fix now?

Realizing this fact, the Hero answers with a trembling, tearful voice.

“But… But, Maria…”

However, the content is…

“I… You’re too terrifying…”

Far from what the Saintess earnestly sought.

“The Demon King is strong… Even the Tower Lord and Master were no match. What can I, alone, do?”

“Heroes who yield to fear often fail even what they can achieve.”

“Maria lost too, in the end!”

“…”

“Th-That strong Maria fell too… Even Maria, who wields the Sun God’s power, ended up like this… What can I, such a weak hero, possibly do…?”

The Saintess’ eyebrows furrowed. Despair and defeat colored the Hero’s voice.

“I… What can someone like me possibly do?!”

Suddenly, the Hero screamed. The deafening shout filled Tartarus.

Regaining composure after letting it all out, the Hero spoke again.

“A…! Sorry! Maria stood alone until the end… I shouldn’t be saying this…! But still, I keep hating myself…!”

Like a lost child, the Hero’s voice scattered aimlessly. A voice lost without direction, filled with complex emotions.

“I… This isn’t right…! Sorry! Really sorry! I apologize!”

The Hero slammed their head to the floor in front of where the Saintess stood. Though blind, the Saintess seemed to understand the situation through the sounds and vibrations.

“Hero.”

“Maria… I’m sorry…”

The Hero’s voice broke with sobs.

“The Lord has given you too harsh a trial.”

“Ugh… Maria…”

“Even if the world hails you as a hero… You’re still but a tender-hearted child.”

The Hero’s voice trembled, pretending to appear pitiful.

To such a Hero, the Saintess extended an invisible hand, as if to stroke them.

“Maria… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t worry. I shall bless you…”

“Bullshit.”

“Wha…?”

“Demon, stop that charade immediately.”

“W-What?”

“Demon? What do you mean?”

“Enough already. Be reasonable.”

Wavering, melancholic, excusing…

Sniffling, despairing, trembling, sobbing…

The Hero conjures all these emotions solely through “voice”.

The crooked grin remains intact, wearing the trademark smirk that rivals my own, while

pulling off an utterly ridiculous performance.

Using just “voice” to convey emotions,

pretending to apologize while acting,

looking at the Saintess who genuinely wished to bless with the gaze of someone watching trash.

“Why do you keep smirking while saying sorry?”

This bothers me. It’s way too uncomfortable.

The Hero’s hypocrisy?

No.

The fact that the Saintess is being toyed with.

The fact that the Saintess is being despised.

The fact that the Saintess is being played around with – that pisses me off!

You have inferiority complex toward the Saintess, don’t you? Still harboring resentment from being runner-up to her at Eden Academy, right? That’s why you’re doing this, isn’t it?

“Wh-Who are you to talk! What gives you the right to…!”

“Me?”

Let him see clearly who I am.

Why am I butting in for the Saintess?

Why do I dislike seeing her being mocked?

Because we’re special comrades. Fellow inmates in Tartarus – an unparalleled relationship.

“Maybe you have face blindness? That’s disappointing.”

Yeah, the Saintess and I have a special bond. My intervention is very natural. We’re extremely close companions.

“Wh-Who are you… YOU!!”

For the first time since entering Tartarus, the Hero shows genuine emotion.

Shock deeply etched on the Hero’s face.

That’s right. This is real. Completely different from the fake emotions conveyed through voice till now.

“Joker!! Why is the Northern Duke of the Demon Realm in Tartarus!!”

---