Chapter 66
The story continues off the page
The Last Dance Before Midnight
A masked dragon asks the lanternwright for one slow dance
“Darling.”
Sitra's lips twitched.
“Are you crazy?”
Not even the fake smile she had been wearing came from her lips.
“Do I look crazy?”
“Did you go to the North for a bit, get a fool virus lodged in your lungs, and come back? Or did you start thinking you were actually in love because I kept calling you Darling?”
There were many humans who fell for such delusions.
But Ferda was not that kind of person.
That was why he was the first person ever to leave Sitra this flustered.
“I know your deadly secret.”
“The only epithet that suits me is ‘charming.’”
The bigger a secret was, the more carefully one had to conceal it.
The more critical the situation for a country, or the more a matter threatened those at the top, the more thoroughly it was handled.
The same was true for demons.
Even demons could not escape the laws governing secrets.
“I heard an interesting story.”
A story from far in the future.
Ferda was gathering all kinds of information for his magical research.
Among it were records concerning Hell.
Records recounting the moments when the Seven Great Demons of Hell had been threatened.
A compendium documenting the fatal mistakes they had made and their weaknesses.
The demons called it the Debiromicon.
Though it appeared to deal with grave matters, it was actually a book humans could read as well.
The reason was simple.
It embodied the firm resolve never to repeat the same mistake, while also serving as a trap for fools.
Those who looked into the Debiromicon in hopes of learning a demon's weakness were always the ones who got played instead.
That was always the result of their arrogant belief that they were different.
But Ferda truly was different.
Ferda did not read that history of demons until fifteen years later.
And what I am recounting now is what happened in the meantime.
“There was this absurd story about one of the countless children born to the Great Demon Sitra, who had been playing promiscuously as usual, having her Life Vessel stolen.”
“What does that mean?”
Sitra tilted her head.
“You don't know that story?”
“Of course not. I can't make heads or tails of whatever the hell you're talking about, Darling.”
“Is that so?”
Her acting was impeccable, as befitted a demon of temptation.
Ferda leisurely observed her face.
He was waiting for the moment that mask would crack.
“Then I suppose we can take Penelope to the Magic Association.”
“The Magic Association…?”
“You know how much they hate demons, don't you? What do you think would happen if I handed her over to them? Especially if I told them she wasn't merely a demon, but one capable of revealing the weakness of the Great Demon Sitra?”
Ferda spoke as if he were singing.
“Then they would conduct a thorough search of Penelope's body. It might take time, but eventually they would reach the truth. And when that happened—”
“Enough.”
Sitra cut Ferda off.
The atmosphere changed completely.
The sensation that had felt like silken thread luring Ferda in moments ago turned into cold thorns.
“Who is it?”
Sitra's mask shattered.
“What bastard handed you that secret?”
Sitra's gaze stung.
It felt as though she were desperately trying to see through Ferda.
“It doesn't seem to be our daughter. If that stupid girl had told you, or even given you a hint, she would have come back into my hands by now.”
“What if I figured it out myself?”
“I'm not underestimating you. But I'm not overestimating you, either. There's no way some mere human could learn first of something even the Great Dukes don't know.”
“You aren't calling me Darling anymore. Are you getting impatient?”
“Yes, I'm getting impatient. Answer quickly, unless you want to spend eternity burning in Hell.”
Sitra threatened him with her long nails.
“Don't threaten me. Do you want to become a dung fly too?”
The demons of Hell had rules, and those rules grew stricter the higher one's rank among the Great Demons.
Rising was difficult, but falling took only an instant.
“Do you think I can't?”
Her sharp nail pressed firmly into Ferda's skin.
“You violated the terms of our deal. I asked you to hand Penelope over, and you're trying to use her to screw me over?”
Ferda answered.
“You asked me to rescue Penelope. And I did.”
“No, I clearly asked you to send her to me. This is a breach of contract, Regent.”
Ferda scoffed.
“Didn't you violate it as well?”
“What?”
“You said you would send all of us away safely. But I couldn't escape from there. What are you going to do about that?”
“You should have killed Penelope, of course. Reverse-summoning her to Hell would have ended the matter.”
“What would you do if I didn't know that? You made rescue the condition. And I rescued her safely. If anything, you're the one who violated the contract.”
“Are you trying to play word games?”
“Isn't that what you like best?”
Demon wordplay.
How many people had been lured in and killed by those word games?
“If that bothers you…”
Ferda crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair.
“Then let's have a trial.”
Contract disputes could be settled in a demon tribunal.
And Sitra would definitely win.
But would she really bring the matter to trial?
She couldn't.
If the words Life Vessel came out of that man's mouth,
her disgrace would be exposed to the entire world.
Sitra fell silent.
She had been put into a perfect checkmate.
“You said it yourself. Even a demonkin can become a fine dog if you put a collar on it properly.”
Ferda gave a quiet, mocking laugh.
“It seems even a demon can become a fine dog.”
“Heh heh…”
Sitra let out a laugh.
“Hehehe! Hahahaha!”
Sitra burst into peals of laughter.
Had she gone insane?
“You know what, Oppa?”
“…Oppa?”
“Oppa, you know how incredibly sexy you are right now?”
This was completely different from her false seduction and the atmosphere surrounding it.
“So what will you do?”
“Fine, I'll do it. It is true that I made a deal with Abel Silverwind. Is there anything else?”
She ran her long tongue over her lips.
Panting, she said,
“I'll do anything for you, Oppa.”
It was even more chilling than when she had turned cold.
“Get away.”
“Hehe, you're so prickly. How can playing hard to get be this charming?”
Sitra obediently backed away.
“So, what's the answer to my question?”
“What question?”
“The informant who told Oppa about the information.”
It wasn't a matter of who had told him anything.
This was something he had known from the distant future.
Naturally, there was no way to explain it.
So he answered like this.
“Barbatos.”
Barbatos, one of the Seven Great Demons of Hell.
The demon of shadows and intrigue, and the one most likely to have had dealings with Ferda.
“Barbatos… That's strange. I didn't expect that name to come up.”
Sitra muttered that to herself.
She did not look like someone who had found an answer.
Her reaction was more along the lines of, Well, whatever.
“See you next time, handsome Oppa. Until then, take good care of that dog collar.”
Mwah.
With a blown kiss, her figure vanished completely.
Dawn arrived.
* * *
“Nnngh…”
A dark elf.
Because she had used emergency escape magic, only her body had been transported here.
“Damn it…”
She had barely managed to find somewhere to take refuge, but she could not escape the cold.
Even an elf with high bodily resistance found it difficult to endure a snow-covered alpine region.
The cold wind seeping in from outside the cave brushed against the thread of the dark elf's consciousness.
Then she suddenly startled awake.
Someone was coming here.
“Who's there?!”
The only thing she had was a stone clutched in her hand.
With a face full of venom, she threatened the intruder with it.
What emerged from outside the cave was a bulk large enough to cover half the entrance.
To the dark elf's eyes, it was clearly visible.
It had red eyes and pointed teeth.
“So you were here, Director Rinne.”
“……”
The man swept his gaze over Rinne's body before speaking.
“I received word that there had been trouble, and it seems it was all true.”
“Demonkin bastards are shady to the very end. Are you one of those who lined up just to get a look at an elf's body?”
“Spare me the pointless talk.”
“If you know it's pointless, hand over your clothes. I'll freeze to death if I stay like this.”
The demonkin man held out his hand.
The large, bulging, reddish muscles of his arm looked threatening.
“The journal and samples come first.”
“Looking at the state I'm in, you still want those? Of course they have already left my hands.”
“Then they are in their hands.”
“Yes. I failed.”
“You know better than anyone what happens to those who fail.”
Rinne growled.
“So what? Since I failed, are you planning to execute me on the spot?”
“You will be transported as a prisoner instead of as the head of the laboratory. Then you will stand trial.”
“Go ahead and hold your damned trial! All the research is in my head. I'm the only one who can recreate those samples and knows how to continue the research.”
“Some among us can use necromancy. Extracting what's in your head won't be difficult.”
“Those idiots? Ha! How much could those gloomy know-it-alls accomplish by meddling with my head? I can already see them making a few children's toys and regretting it!”
The man merely looked down at her.
She forced her mouth to move.
She forced her lips open and squeezed out words despite the cold that felt as though it would kill her.
“You saved only me while my kind were dying. That day, you said this, didn't you? That I was the only useful one among them. Are you really going to execute the most capable one here?”
“……”
“So hand over those damned clothes right now.”
The man stared at her for a moment before throwing her some clothes.
Rinne wrapped the coat around herself.
The inside was warm with a heating spell.
“Did Ferda Valdrova do that to your eyes?”
Rinne clenched her teeth and nodded.
“I never imagined I'd be defeated by that brat.”
“I had heard he was superior to ordinary humans. His name is being brought up even at the Round Table now.”
“You can't describe him as merely superior to ordinary humans. Even that would be an underestimation.”
“Then how would you assess him?”
Rinne hugged the coat tightly around herself.
“No one like him has ever existed throughout all of history.”
“You're afraid.”
“I'm only speaking objectively. When he caught me off guard, I felt it.”
After the Lightning Bolt pierced her eye,
she recalled the image of Ferda that had entered her field of vision.
What she had seen was a young man with gray hair.
Blue eyes whose intentions were impossible to read.
She had sensed something familiar within those blue eyes.
“He's a madman who's fought mages stronger than himself over and over again.”
They were the eyes of big-game hunters who made up for their lack of power with technique, saw several moves ahead, and overwhelmed their opponents.
In those eyes, Rinne sensed defeat.
That was why she had abandoned the fight and escaped using an emergency escape scroll.
The man glanced outside.
The snow that had been falling fiercely had begun to calm down at some point.
“We should get moving soon.”
The man rose, but Rinne hesitated.
“Can't I avoid my punishment…?”
“You know the answer.”
The man answered coldly.
“All you can do is hope the council accepts the assessment that he's a madman.”
The demonkin were all like this.
They had no emotions and no guilt.
So they would weigh her life using nothing but calculations.
‘All I can do is show them how capable I am.’
Rinne clutched the coat around herself.
‘I… will survive.’
Survival.
It was a promise she had made to herself ever since she laid hands on Godwin's blood.
* * *
In the peaceful central-eastern region of the continent of Serdes,
the Rosnova domain was also progressing peacefully.
Erembalt, the head of the house, had retired due to his age, but his two sons were carrying on the family and rising rapidly.
Then a bombardment suddenly fell upon that household.
It was not that actual cannons or catapults had come flying at them.
No, the situation was bad enough that would have been preferable.
“Hello, lord of the house. You know who I am, don't you?”
A girl stood before Erembalt.
She asked rudely in a childish voice.
Ordinarily, Erembalt would have started by shouting at the audacity of some snot-nosed child speaking informally to him, but
“Yes. I know very well.”
Erembalt did not dare do so to her.
He knew that appearances were not everything, and that this tiny girl standing before him was easily older than he was.
“You are Lady Erdes, the paragon among great mages, are you not?”
“Oh my, a paragon? You don't need to flatter me like that. I know you all call me a beautiful young delinquent.”
It was an extremely difficult remark to respond to.
She was certainly a delinquent, but she was not a beautiful girl.
“What brings you to this humble place?”
Erembalt was curious about her purpose.
Erdes was a storm in human form.
She appeared out of nowhere, turned everything upside down, and left.
Depending on the circumstances, she might even disappear entirely.
Erembalt could end up the same way.
“It's nothing special. I have no intention of turning this place into a wasteland or anything, so rest easy.”
“Yes, yes. Of course I wasn't worried about that.”
“But depending on the circumstances, I might.”
Erembalt swallowed hard.
He had really crossed paths with a lunatic.
When Erdes waved a finger, a map unfolded from within her clothes and spread across the table.
“What do you think this is?”
“A map…?”
“Yes, a map engraved on mana paper. The people in our Magic Tower use this map to observe the flow of mana.”
Along with her brief explanation, she pointed to one spot with a small wand.
“Where do you think this is?”
“According to the label… it says this is Count Concilius's castle.”
“Correct. And what about this marked location?”
“Hmm… Isn't it some hill in the North?”
“Be specific.”
“It's… Silverwind territory.”
“Correct! Good thing you're not as dim as our Blue, or I would have been rather angry.”
She smiled brightly and lowered her wand.
“Why do you think I pointed out those two places?”
“Pardon? Uh, well, that's…”
Erembalt looked down at the map.
He could not raise his head.
He did not have the courage to face that subtle smile, or what lay within her eyes.
“I'm sorry. My dull mind can't understand…”
“Well, that's all right. You're not a mage, so how could you know? And unlike Blue, you at least know that you're stupid, right?”
Erembalt realized that the grim reaper had been standing behind him until just moments ago.
Each time his words, actions, and choices diverged, Erembalt would die.
Why?
Why did he feel this way?
The reason was simple.
“A Bending Bridge spell occurred here. A Bending Bridge that passes through Hell.”
It was because of black magic.
Erdes's hatred of black magic was legendary.
“I see…”
“But I don't think Count Concilius used it.”
“Th-then who did?”
“Think harder. If it wasn't Count Concilius, who was it? His relatives or children? Or perhaps… someone above him?”
“Someone above him…”
Then he felt the pieces fall into place.
He understood why this delinquent mage had come to a knightly family like his.
“Ferda…”
His third son, whom he had cast aside.
This had happened because of him.
“There are traces that Regent Valdrova has recently contacted a demon.”
Erdes Roton.
He knew how intense her hatred of black magic was.
Anyone who had come into contact with black magic faced, at minimum, the extermination of their entire family.
That meant the annihilation of House Rosnova.
“Please spare me!”
Erembalt fell to his knees.
The crest of his valiant house seemed to crumple.
“I swear I have nothing to do with him! We've been strangers ever since he left this place! I haven't even contacted him!”
He desperately rubbed his hands together and begged for his life.
Erdes continued to smile as she watched him.
“I know. A mere knight like you had nothing to do with it.”
She spoke as if she understood.
But Erembalt felt no relief.
There was no mercy in her anger.
This fact alone was enough to destroy House Rosnova.
But she would not do so today.
“So tell me.”
She wanted only one thing.
That one thing was enormous.
“Tell me about that man named Ferda.”