Chapter 87

Time flows like a river—always steady, always slow. It doesn’t crash like the sea or rush like a stream, but no one can resist its current.

A good amount of time has passed. Roughly a century. And during this century, the continent must have undergone tremendous changes.

It’s now the year 614 of the Imperial Calendar. Around this time, a nation called “Kingdom” is being established. The continent is gasping through an industrial revolution, developing rapidly. Democracy, which once existed only in the Republic, is seeping into the Empire, turning it into a semi-democracy and semi-monarchy.

Originally, this period of rapid change would be the perfect time to make investments and rake in tons of cash. But there’s still plenty of time before Saintess Maria’s birth. Compared to the time I’ve already waited, these last few decades are nothing but the final stretch.

“Lord, your face hasn’t changed a bit. You remain ever constant.”

Beatrix just sheathed her Greatsword after swinging it fiercely. Despite the intense battle, her face was stained not with blood but only sweat.

She’s reached the level where she can predict the direction blood will spurt as she slices her opponents. At this rate, she might even achieve the ultimate swordsmanship mastery known as Swordmaster.

With her ability to wield both my dark energy and divine power simultaneously, she holds an advantage in actual combat. Having such a woman as my knight makes me proud of my own ocean-like capacity for tolerance.

“Maybe it’s because you’re a demon? Demons usually live long, don’t they?”

“It seems so.”

“Even Sir Beatrix, your face hasn’t changed since we first met. You’re exactly the same… except maybe your bust has gotten a little bigger? Hahaha!”

“…! That’s inappropriate…”

“Huh?”

I was just pointing out that the only thing that’s changed is your larger chest, so why is Beatrix suddenly laughing while bowing her head? Ever since meeting Meta a hundred years ago, Beatrix has been acting more meaningfully, often saying things like “I am ready…”

“Woof woof woof!”

Suddenly, Aru jumped onto my head from somewhere. How dare this beast disrespectfully climb atop its master!

Whoosh-!

I immediately swung my fist to give Aru a smack on the forehead, but he easily dodged by just tilting his head. Now I look foolish flailing around uselessly.

Sure, back when Aru absorbed the tragic hero Claire about a hundred years ago, I was stronger than him, but a year later, he grew significantly. With this big lug constantly climbing on top of my head, I’m worried I’ll develop osteoporosis in my neck.

Of course, our party getting stronger is a great thing, but lately, I feel my authority as the leader slipping.

“Woof! Done hunting!”

“Good job. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Woof! Scratched my cheek!”

“Tch… What if it scars? Let me see your face. I’ll fix it for you.”

Sighing, I said this, and Aru’s round face popped right in front of mine. His long indigo hair trailed down to the ground.

Looking at his upside-down face, I gently stroked his cheek. A tiny scratch was bleeding slightly.

“Did you get this from a werewolf?”

“Woof woof! From a werewolf!”

“What? Aren’t werewolves your kin? Did you just kill your own kind?”

“No! Werewolves are monsters! I’m a werewolf-man!”

“…”

Does Aru even know that ‘werewolf’ translates to ‘wolfman’? Sometimes ignorance truly is bliss.

Humans slaughter their own kind all the time anyway, so why should wolves be any different?

“Alright, stay still. If you’re injured, you need to say something.”

Wooom-.

Purple mana gathered at my fingertips, and a viscous, pearl-like liquid seeped into Aru’s wound. Then, like snowflakes, his skin seamlessly healed without a trace.

It wasn’t healing magic. I’m no saint; curing isn’t within my abilities. I simply stitched the wound shut.

“Master Oscar! I’ve also finished hunting!”

Meta, now fully grown, proudly extended his hands as he approached me.

His palms were covered in crimson blood and dense purple mana.

“And! I’ve turned today’s hunted skeletons into my familiars!”

“…”

“Skeleton King was quite powerful! Nevertheless, I believe I’ve completed ‘The Fourth Legion’! Naturally, the Skeleton King will be the legion commander!”

Watching his cheerful demeanor, I had to break a cold sweat.

What? Why is he growing so fast? Calling himself a lich now? Summoning Skeleton Kings? Meta, who I thought was purely a martial artist, actually possesses incredible talent in sorcery—a goblin shaman, indeed.

The problem is that his talent is far from ordinary, and having learned black magic from me, after merely a hundred years of practice, he’s already reached near-lich-level skills.

“Meta, wait a moment.”

Stopping Meta, I pulled out a black robe from Arachne’s sack. A robe that could cover the head entirely.

I draped the robe over Meta and gave a thumbs-up with a shout of approval.

“Perfect! Anyone who doesn’t know you would think you’re a real lich!”

An undead ruler leading an army of the dead, liches command skeletal armies that crush the living’s fortresses, destroy civilizations, and annihilate life. Some call liches the most suitable embodiment of a “personal kingdom.”

Meta may be a goblin, not a skeleton, but considering his visual appeal in the robe and his rapid growth, it’s a plausible image. He’s already claimed four legions, hasn’t he?

“Leader, calling someone who’s alive a lich is excessive, isn’t it?”

Uriel crossed her arms and spoke up sarcastically. Her tone was curt.

As an angel, she finds beings that disregard the ethics of life, like liches, inherently disrespectful.

“You mean metaphorically. Besides, Meta, do you dislike the nickname ‘lich’?”

“Huh? No way! Anything Master Oscar gives me is fine!”

“See? Even Meta likes it! Why are you trying to suppress the freedom of naming?”

“Meta feels this way, so I have nothing to say… Beatrix, why don’t you have anything to say? Even as a Holy Knight…”

“I believe any nickname given by my Lord is acceptable. A lich, transcending life and death, sounds like a rather elegant title.”

“…”

Of course, Beatrix is on my side. Smiling smugly at Uriel, I patted Beatrix’s back.

“Oscar, I have a question.”

Langwang, who had been sitting quietly until now, slowly rose, stretching his towering frame. Among us, he was the largest, his stature noticeable even in wide-open plains.

“Yohan?”

“When will we encounter civilization again? It’s been two hundred years already.”

“Hmm, about seventy to eighty more years.”

“It’s boring… We fight every day.”

“You must be patient. Didn’t Saintess Irolwel teach you about the virtue of patience?”

“Ugh… Irolwel… Irolwel…”

Langwang seems restless. Recently, our battles have been closer to massacres between predators and prey.

If Yohan were a human king, shouldn’t he be able to rule humans like how Aru rules wolves? How did the heroes’ party manage to stand against Yohan a hundred years ago?

“…”

Unsolvable questions are meaningless. I tucked away the random thoughts that had surfaced.

Over the past hundred years, we fought tirelessly, nearly exterminating all the monsters in the southern Demon Forest.

But we didn’t completely wipe them out. A few managed to escape our guerrilla tactics and hide in secret lairs.

Still, there’s no need to worry about them. What matters is killing Dragon King Endros with Langwang and the new hero party. During that process, everyone in the hero party except Merlin Gregory must die, and these few surviving monsters won’t dare block the hero party’s path.

There is, however, one issue: we couldn’t capture the seven dragons guarding Dragon King Endros, the Seven Dragons.

The reason is simple. These dragons were strong enough to successfully perform a mutual destruction technique with the previous hero party. Attempting to capture them recklessly could result in losing one of our group members—an unacceptable loss, much like the tragic end of the previously enhanced hero party.

Of course, I’d sacrifice anything for Maria. Nothing—not even my companions—is as important as her.

Still, the reason I haven’t followed the original timeline is because the history of the Demon Forest and the history of the continent are fundamentally different.

I’ve already altered the history of the Demon Forest. But what I need to preserve is the history of the continent. So ultimately, as long as ‘Dragon King’s Death’ and ‘Merlin Gregory’s survival’ follow the historical flow, everything else is irrelevant.

If my memory serves, the hero party will arrive at the Demon Forest today. They’ll fight the forest’s monsters like the previous hero party did… bypassing other monsters to confront the Seven Dragons directly.

Afterward, I’m not sure. Assisting them outright feels wrong since, from my perspective, the entire hero party, except Merlin, needs to die.

The best scenario would be the hero party eliminating the Seven Dragons without any casualties, joining forces with Langwang to defeat Dragon King Endros, dying in the process, while I secretly extract and absorb the dragon king’s soul.

“Excuse me, I’ll be back shortly. Keep yourselves busy.”

Fiddling with the cross in my pocket, I left the area. Walking about a hundred paces, I hid behind a massive tree.

Great, the sound shouldn’t carry here. I immediately took out a black rosary and infused it with magic.

“Tell.”

Whoom-.

The rosary hummed a couple of times before emitting a voice.

[Good morning, Joker-sama.]

Monotonous, quiet, peaceful…

Yet captivating, elegant, and undeniably charming to me.

“Yeah, good morning. Though I doubt you even have mornings.”

[You wouldn’t understand, but this place is somewhat livable.]

Ha, yeah, right. Hanging crucified like that.

“So, about… seventy years? Know that?”

[Isn’t that calculated based on the day I’ll be born?]

“Naturally. Any issues?”

[I prefer the day of our reunion to escaping this place.]

“…Saintess, you sure know how to speak beautifully.”

Perhaps it stems from the inherent respect and consideration embedded within you.

“But, our reunion might happen around then, even if not at Eden Academy.”

[Is that so? Why is that?]

“Cause I’ll be sprinkling holy water at your baptism as an infant! Hehehe!”

[That… didn’t I ask you to stop that already?!]

“Come on, Saintess. Do you really think a demon lord like me listens to anyone?”

[Tsk…!]

Saintess bites her lower lip uncharacteristically, releasing a soft groan. I burst into vile laughter.

[Haa… You’re truly mischievous.]

“But, Saintess, this is the only way to rile you up. Nothing else fazes you.”

[A compliment, I’ll take it.]

Such an amusing woman.

I enjoy tormenting others. There’s a small pleasure in humiliating and teasing them.

But Saintess remains calm almost no matter what I say. Yet conversing with her is the most enjoyable.

Truly, she’s an extraordinary woman. My tongue flickered.

[By the way, do the others know about me?]

“Only Aru knows, and I’ve told him to keep quiet.”

[Langwang noticed my existence long ago, didn’t he?]

“Yeah, but others like Langwang, Beatrix, and Uriel don’t. Especially Beatrix and Uriel—they’re always curious when they see my rosary. They find it odd that a demon like me carries a cross.”

[It’s fine. Your faith in my heart is more precious than others’ opinions.]

“That sounds weird. I believe in you, not some guy in the sky.”

[Rejecting all gods except the Supreme God… Could it be blasphemous that I’ve become someone’s god?]

“God? Faith doesn’t necessarily mean a deity. The church priests revere the Messiah, but the Messiah isn’t a god, right? What if you think of yourself as the Second Messiah, Saintess Maria?”

[Calling such an unworthy person by such an honorable title… I’m blushing with embarrassment…]

Indeed, as she said, her voice became bashful. Time to stop teasing.

“Still, aren’t you happy?”

[What do you mean?]

“Born as a devout believer, you were called ‘Messiah’ by a wretched demon like me. Wouldn’t it be alright to take pride in your achievements and life?”

[To be honest, I am secretly pleased… Just too embarrassed to lift my head.]

“Aha-ha-ha! Too humble!”

I burst into laughter, loud enough for her to hear. Though I can’t see her, I imagine she’s smiling faintly right now.

“I have one question for Saintess.”

Ceasing my laughter, I opened my mouth. This, essentially, is the purpose of today’s communication.

[What is it?]

“Your memories.”

“Huh?”

“Your regression isn’t complete. You were dragged into mine. So, I’m curious. Are your memories intact after rebirth? Or do you start fresh, forgetting everything about me and us?”

Four hundred years have passed. An immeasurable span of time, especially for a human like Saintess.

During those long years, she devoted herself to ensuring I stayed on the right path, thanks to a deal with the god of time, Chronos.

But, will that time, that sincere effort and hard work…

Carry over into her new life?

“Half and half.”

“Huh?”

[In the daytime, I’ll be the young me, and at night, the current me.]

As I stood baffled by Saintess’s words,

Maria calmly judged her own future.

[In short, I’ll have a dual personality. The innocent me who knows nothing and the regressed me who remembers my memories with Joker-sama… These two will alternate between day and night, coexisting within my body.]

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