He Is Definitely the Archduke of Hell
He was definitely the Archduke of Hell.
When the leader of the refugee village asked for my identity, I suddenly recalled the scouts I had met before. The ones who had taken one look at me, called me the Archduke of Hell, and bowed their heads without being told.
I decided to throw out the bait. If they jumped to the conclusion themselves and came at me with lowered heads, the whole situation might resolve far more easily than expected.
“S-Surely… you are the one from the Book of Prophecy?”
It looked like the bluff had landed. His expression, posture, and eyes all radiated absolute conviction.
I casually ignored the leader’s original question. If I truly were the Archduke of Hell, it would be only natural to dismiss a mere human’s inquiry. Instead, I demanded his name in an imperious tone.
The leader dropped to one knee at once.
“My name is Grig. I hold the rank of Priest. I currently command a congregation of roughly five hundred believers.”
Priest?
The moment I heard Grig’s rank I tilted my head. It didn’t match the intelligence I had gathered at the Pleasure Tower. According to that information, the Descent Ritual was being performed every two weeks—the vile, unclean ceremony in which they murdered a virgin and violated her corpse.
If he’s only a Priest, he shouldn’t be able to officiate the Descent Ritual. There must be someone higher up.
A Priest rank could not conduct that ritual. At minimum a Bishop was required to perform the ceremony that transformed a half-demon into a true devil.
That confirmed it—the leader of this refugee camp was not the true culprit behind the region’s horrors. Grig’s answer came exactly as I had anticipated.
“Correct. The one who appears wearing the red mask is… the Bishop. He only reveals himself once every two weeks… when the sacred ritual is performed…”
Just as I thought. I nodded and asked where the ritual took place. Grig revealed the location without hesitation, and I committed it to memory. Since the rite occurred whenever the full moon rose, I calculated that striking in six days would be ideal.
Having extracted every piece of useful information, I began to coax them with reasonable-sounding words. If I could swap their hearts without a fight, removing the demonic energy would be child’s play.
“…Change our hearts, sir?”
The moment I mentioned replacing their hearts, Grig’s expression turned razor sharp. The man who had been kneeling rose to his feet.
“According to the doctrine, the heart is the most vital organ for us believers. I was taught that under no circumstances should it ever be surrendered.”
I wasn’t surprised by the sudden shift in his attitude. This much suspicion had been well within expectations.
“…But the doctrine recorded in the scriptures was established jointly by the seven Archdukes. Please understand that I cannot simply disregard the will of the remaining six.”
Grig was not an easy man to deceive. Having been betrayed by nobles until he lost even his wife, fooling him was nearly impossible.
Deciding further conversation was pointless, I began preheating the repulsor beam. The instant brilliant light erupted from my palm, Grig glanced around and roared.
“All of you, release your demonic energy!”
-BOOM!
The repulsor beam slammed into one of his men. The subordinate’s body folded into a ‘’ shape and flew several meters through the air.
“Who the hell are you!”
Grig had already demonized his body in the blink of an eye. I leveled the repulsor beam at him and answered in a low voice.
“I’m Ironman.”
“…What?”
Whiiiiir—BOOM!
Grig was blasted backward. One of his lieutenants shouted.
“Overwhelm him! He’s alone!”
“Grrrrrrrrr!!”
Creatures warped into every imaginable shape charged at me at once. One with steel-hard claws. Another that bled acid when wounded. A third with pitch-black wings soaring overhead. One whose rubber-like arms stretched to strike. All manner of half-human, half-demon monstrosities rushed me.
I activated the plasma mana shield at full power. There was no need to restrain myself against those who had embraced demonic strength, so I could unleash my complete arsenal without reservation.
“KyaAAAAAAGH!”
“Grrrrk!”
I had spent every single day refining the suit, constantly upgrading its performance. Even if dozens or hundreds of apprentice priests swarmed me, they could not inflict so much as a scratch. They could not even approach. Unless they warped space like Lucas, piercing the plasma mana shield by ordinary means was impossible.
To me, they were nothing more than laboratory rats—test subjects for the weapons I had developed.
-CRACKLE!
I pulled a test weapon from my inventory. The first item I chose was the otherworldly double-barrel shotgun I had created with reference to dwarven techniques: the super shotgun. The very weapon that came to mind first when one thought of demons.
I gripped the super shotgun that had materialized in mid-air and the corners of my mouth curled upward. Simply holding it, the grip and weight felt incredible. It sat perfectly in my hand.
-CLACK!
The true highlight, of course, was the loading. Breaking the barrel, sliding in the two massive shells, then snapping it shut again produced that magnificent sound. Hadn’t I gone through all that suffering just to hear this clack?
-BANG!
The firing report was just as satisfying. The violent gunshot and the recoil that slammed through my entire body—the intense vibration I could feel with every cell.
-Whiiiiiiiing…
There was no gunpowder smell, however. I deliberately disabled the purification function and drank in the floating scent of powder. My expression grew rapturous, like a smoker finally inhaling after a long abstinence.
Perfect…
I repeated the process again and again.
Clack! Bang! Clack! Bang!
No matter how many times I heard them, the loading and firing sounds never grew old. I hammered them into my eardrums. The cumbersome one-shot, one-load process actually felt like a blessing.
“KYAAAAAAAAGH!!! UWAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
The super shotgun’s performance was flawless. The instant a shot struck an enemy’s knee it exploded with a bang, blowing the entire leg clean off. Even bodies tempered to monstrous toughness by demonic energy could not withstand a single blast. If it had hit the heart, death would have been instantaneous.
After thoroughly savoring the shotgun’s recoil, I pulled out the next toy. If we were talking raw, visceral satisfaction, nothing beat this.
-Vrrrrrrrrrrrr!
The chainsaw. Pure, unfiltered sensation. I grinned as I held the violently shaking saw. The enemies staring at me began to drown in terror.
He is definitely the Archduke of Hell…
Grig was certain. He had dared to anger the Archduke of Hell. Because he had suspected the being without knowing his place, this catastrophe had unfolded.
-Vwoooooooooooong!!
“KYAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!”
His subordinates were being butchered. He himself had lost a leg to an unidentified gun and both arms to the savage saw blade. Such cruel, barbaric combat had no precedent.
It was horrific. The Archduke was simply toying with them. The powerful regenerative property of demonic energy had become the cruelest curse imaginable; as soon as flesh knit back together it was sliced apart again.
“Cough! Cough! Krrghhh! Cough! Cough!”
Not only that. The area was thick with purple smoke. Every breath burned his lungs. Tears, mucus, and saliva poured out in torrents, bringing unbearable agony. His mind grew hazy and everything felt unreal.
“Krrghhhhh…”
One by one the screams fell silent. The fifty elite warriors he had painstakingly raised were slaughtered like insects. Why had he foolishly opposed the Archduke? He should have pressed his forehead to the ground and offered his heart immediately.
-Vwoooooong! Vwoooooooooong!!!
Kagagagagagak—!
Clinging to his fading consciousness, Grig listened to the chainsaw’s roar. The sounds of flesh being shredded, muscles tearing, and bones grinding echoed everywhere. This being was unmistakably the Archduke of Hell.
The Archduke approached him. Grig wept and began to apologize for his transgression.
“F-Forgive me! I-I dared to be rude by failing to recognize the Archduke! But please, just this once! I have people I must lead! I must protect my dying daughter—!”
-THUD!
Before he could finish, my fist slammed into his jaw and his consciousness cut to black.
Having successfully applied physical anesthesia, I took a scalpel from my inventory and murmured.
“Ugh…”
Three minutes later, Grig regained consciousness through sheer willpower. His mission to protect his daughter had pulled his mind back from the brink ahead of schedule.
-Throb!
The pain in his chest was excruciating. After excising the demonic-energy-saturated heart and replacing it with a clean one, the aftereffects still lingered.
“So… Sophie…”
Worried for his daughter, Grig crawled forward with every ounce of strength he possessed. He dragged himself through the thick CS gas toward his dwelling.
When he finally reached the village, he froze.
“Ahh… Aaaaaah… Aaaaaaaaaah…”
Everyone in the village lay dead. In truth they had merely fainted, but to Grig’s eyes they looked thoroughly slain. Blood from my suit had been splattered everywhere, turning the scene into a slaughterhouse.
“N-No… Nooooooo…”
Grig had instinctively known it would come to this. He had been forced to rely on the Salvation Cult, yet deep in his heart he had always understood its teachings were fundamentally twisted. Otherwise they could never have dressed up the murder and rape of virgins as a “sacred ritual.” The power they wielded was warped as well.
But… I had no other choice…
The only anchor he had was this corrupted strength. Though something inside him screamed that this was wrong, the louder it screamed the more fervently he clung to the religion. It was the only thing that could soothe his terror.
“So… Sophie… Please… Sophie…”
Regretting every choice that had led him here, Grig crawled to his own door, praying his daughter at least had been spared.
But inside—
I had already sliced open Sophie’s abdomen with the scalpel and was laughing softly. Having detected the rare holy power within her, I was performing surgery to cure her chronic illness. I was simply delighted to have found someone capable of wielding holy power so early, and the smile came naturally.
“Ah… Aaaaah… Uwaaaaaah…”
Yet to Grig’s eyes I was nothing less than a demon. The image of the Bishop murdering a virgin and then violating her flashed through his mind.
The words that followed were even worse. How dare this monster speak of injecting anything into his precious daughter?
“S-Step away right now…! From my daughter…! From my precious daughter… How dare you…!”
Grig scraped together the last of his strength and lunged at me. But after crawling through clouds of CS powder, hallucinogens, and anesthetic, he simply collapsed.
I walked over to the fallen man and spoke.
“…Krrgh… My daughter… only my daughter…”
I injected the anesthetic. Grig shed tears of helpless fury at the thought that he would awaken to the corpse of his murdered daughter. Yet his eyelids grew heavier and heavier until he could no longer resist.
In the end… I meet the same fate…
Grig’s consciousness faded to black.