Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: The Janitor's Lament
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‘Ahh... Is this hell?’
The sensation of his skull shattering in that final moment lingered vividly.
Those who dared touch the forbidden would rightfully plummet into the fiery abyss,
enduring eternal torment.
Varkas had been certain that demons would soon swarm in to tear his soul to shreds.
But then.
“Ugh, gross. His brains are all spilling out.”
A complaint laced with irritation.
“Your Majesty, how am I supposed to save someone whose head is half gone like this? Even if I’m the greatest saintess...”
“Yeah, sorry about that. But come on, our saintess, a thousand gold to fix this? You gonna pass?”
A brief silence fell.
'A thousand gold... They use gold in hell too?’
Her voice followed, pitched high with delight.
Like the tender tones of a benevolent goddess.
“Sigh... Your Majesty, like I’ve been saying, you’ve gotta let me finish. I didn’t say it was impossible, did I?”
“Oh?”
“Of course I’ll do it for the Empire. It’s what I was born for as a saintess.”
“That’s our saintess.”
‘...What the hell?’
The conversation of demons echoing from hell felt utterly bizarre.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ “Ah... Y-Your, Your Majesty. H-his eyes... they’re open. He’s, he’s alive!”
Eris poked at Varkas’s cheek in fascination.
His blurry vision gradually sharpened, revealing an unfamiliar ceiling.
The acrid stench of blood stung his nose, mingled with the musty smell of damp mold.
Not the inferno of hell,
but a makeshift tent on a cold stone floor.
The first thing that entered his sight was
the hero Eris, wide-eyed and staring at him like a curiosity.
At her fussing, the man lounging crookedly in a chair turned his head.
Cold, indifferent eyes.
It was Emperor Darcor, who had treated him like a worm and crushed him in a single blow.
Darcor rested his chin on his hand and drawled lazily.
“Awake, worm?”
“Wh-where...”
Varkas tried to sit up in a hurry, but
clank.
The heavy restraints clamped around his body rattled, sealing his movements.
He instinctively checked his head.
He was sure it had been smashed, killing him.
Yet astonishingly, his head was intact.
Only the splitting headache and the agony ripping through his body
proved it hadn’t been a dream.
‘I’m... alive?’
Relief flickered through him for a moment.
Then the shadow looming before his eyes darkened.
Darcor was approaching slowly.
“Answer my questions. Why did you invade? What’s the size of your main force?”
A dry interrogation.
Defeated or not, surrender was impossible.
He was a proud general and grand dark mage of the Daroa Empire.
“Kuhuhu... You think I’d spill to Empire scum? If you think you can make me talk, you’re mistaken.”
Varkas spat blood onto the floor and grinned wickedly.
“Pointless. Stop wasting time and kill me. Give me an honorable end...”
“For real?”
“...What?”
Darcor tilted his head.
His face showed no emotion.
Humm.
Darcor lightly clenched his fist.
Mana in the air churned violently, drawn into his fist.
Splat!
“Graaack!”
Varkas’s right arm bent at an unnatural angle, dangling grotesquely.
Bones shattered so badly they threatened to pierce the flesh.
“Kuh... Yeah, kill me already...”
Darcor smirked and glanced back.
“Kill you? Who said anything about killing? Saintess, heal him.”
Saintess Chloe, waiting nearby, sighed deeply as she approached.
“Break, heal, break, heal. What am I, a sculptor?”
Grumbling, she extended her hand toward Varkas’s limp arm with practiced ease.
Holy golden mana enveloped his arm.
“Holy light, nurture this lamb.”
Crack. Pop.
“Grrraaah!”
Healing came with pain.
Misaligned bones forced back into place,
torn muscles twisting and knitting together.
It hurt dozens of times worse than the initial break.
In an instant, his arm was whole.
Not a scar remained.
Only the lingering agony made Varkas’s body tremble uncontrollably.
Darcor asked again.
“Where’s your Tower Master?”
“I-I don’t kn— Gack!”
Crunch.
This time, it was his shin.
His kneecap shattered into pieces, and Varkas’s eyes rolled back, whites showing.
“Heal.”
“In the name of the goddess...”
Crack.
The bones knit back together.
Varkas gasped, on the verge of passing out.
‘Th-this is insane...’
Break, heal.
Heal, break again.
“Please... just kill me... Let me die.”
Varkas, one of the Daroa Empire’s premier dark mages, begged through tears.
Darcor crouched down, meeting Varkas’s eyes.
“Kill you? That’d be heartless. You haven’t earned death yet. Gotta pay for your keep.”
“Wh-what?”
Chloe, arms crossed nearby, pressed her forehead like she had a headache.
“Aigoo, Your Majesty, my mana’s running low. Holy power isn’t something you can just spam...”
She turned her head and wiggled her palm.
Jingle.
Darcor casually pulled a heavy pouch of gold coins from his pocket and tossed it into the air.
Chloe snatched it faster than light.
“Oh, praise the gods. Miracles abound! Mana’s overflowing!”
Her face, moments from exhaustion, bloomed with joy.
Beaming, she looked down at Varkas,
eyes gleaming with greed.
“Mister, wanna start over from the top?”
Varkas shuddered.
These weren’t humans.
Escape from these demons’ grasp had only one path.
“I-I’ll talk. I’ll tell you everything!”
Varkas screamed and nodded frantically.
But.
Darcor shook his head slowly.
“Nope.”
“Wh-why! I said I’ll talk!”
Darcor’s lips curled wickedly.
“Your face doesn’t look sincere. Not enough remorse. Let’s do one more round.”
“Wh-what do you— Aaaagh!”
Splat.
The sound of flesh bursting echoed through the tent once more.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ ‘Ahh, feels good.’
Darcor shook the blood from his fist,
a faint smile playing on his lips.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Evil Subjugation (Interrogation) in progress.] [Madness Level decreases.] The madness pounding in his head washed away, leaving a refreshing clarity.
'This guy’s more useful than I thought?’
Darcor stared at the system window before him,
lost in thought.
Madness Level dropping without even killing him.
If handled right...
This could be a semi-permanent cure for Madness Level—fix him up and reuse.
“Kuhuhk... The Tower Master’s in the snowfields.”
Varkas muttered in a raspy voice, his soul stripped bare.
His eyes were hollow with terror.
“She’s awakening an ancient being there. No matter how strong you are, you can’t stop it.”
Darcor nodded gravely.
“An ancient being, huh. Hmm.”
“Gods... such a calamity. Your Majesty, we must prepare countermeasures now.”
Chloe paled and made the sign of the cross.
“Yeah, serious stuff. Call an expert.”
“An expert?”
“You know, someone even crazier than this guy... I mean, more impressive.”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The tent flap at the entrance parted, and a woman stepped in.
Purple hair tousled beneath her mage’s hat,
flowing wildly.
It was Veronica, the Empire’s Tower Master and genius mage.
“You called? Yawwwn...”
She stretched with a yawn, rubbing her eyes.
At that moment,
Varkas’s eyes bulged.
“V-Veronica!”
The source of his lifelong inferiority and hatred,
the one who had demoted him from the pinnacle of Empire mages to second fiddle.
She stood before him.
But Veronica just blankly tilted her head.
“Hm? Who?”
“...What?”
Varkas’s face twisted in disbelief.
“D-don’t play dumb! Because of you, you wretched bitch, I!”
He bellowed, veins bulging.
Pent-up rage erupted.
“Because of you, I abandoned my country, sold my soul... even touched the forbidden! And you don’t know me?”
A passionate confession.
A scream before the rival who had upended his life.
Veronica tapped her forehead, rummaging through memories.
“Ah... I remember now. You’re...”
Varkas swallowed dryly.
'Of course she remembers.’
We’ve rivaled each other for decades.
Veronica clapped her palms.
“The lab janitor, right?”
“...Huh?”
“Yeah, you cleaned the floors so well. That broom snap of yours was art. Never thought I’d see you here. Job change?”
“......”
Snap.
Something snapped in Varkas’s mind, the sound echoing clearly in the tent.
His face flushed crimson, swelling as if it might burst.
“Raaagh! I’m Varkas, top graduate of the Empire Academy! Your classmate! I sat next to you for seven years!”
He screamed, vomiting blood.
His life’s goal,
his hated target, remembered him as a janitor.
No torture could be crueler.
Regardless,
Veronica lazily picked her ear with her pinky.
“Is that so? Doesn’t ring a bell.”
Foo.
She blew the earwax from her finger toward Varkas.
“Sorry, mister. I...”
“What?”
“Don’t remember idiots’ names.”
“Gack...”
Varkas let out a final shriek and collapsed to the floor.
The mental blow surpassed any physical pain, shattering him completely.
His psyche crumbled to dust.
Darcor clicked his tongue.
‘Whoa... savage. Spicy.’
No sympathy, of course.
Varkas mumbled amid snot and tears.
“Huhuhu... Just kill me. Anything but this humiliation...”
No will to live remained.
A chilling voice pierced his ear.
“Kill you? Nah. Gotta pay for your keep.”
Darcor’s red eyes gleamed menacingly.
“P-pay for my...?”
“Guide us to your main force.”
Varkas shook his head in horror.
“I-I can’t. Why would I lead Empire dogs...”
Humm.
Darcor raised his fist again.
Dark crimson mana rose like haze.
Terror from the fist shimmering before him.
Behind, the saintess counting gold coins and smacking her lips.
His rival treating him like broom fodder.
This place was worse than hell.
“Don’t wanna? Thought you’d wised up.”
“I-I’ll do it! I’ll guide you!”
Varkas cried out desperately, sweat beading coldly.
Darcor smirked and lowered his fist.
“Good. That’s more like it.”
As Varkas sighed in relief,
Darcor’s eyes narrowed viciously again.
“But.”
“Huh?”
“Gotta re-educate you first. You hesitated before answering.”
“Wh-what!”
“Your eyes say you’re not fully reformed yet.”
Darcor’s lips curled wickedly.