Subjugating McHart (2)
“Khh, kghh….”
After Ethan and McHart had clashed head-on in a one-on-one confrontation, the pain-laced voice of one of the two men rang in my ears.
Needless to say, it was not Ethan's. Because after that instant — that final clash — the only man left standing on both feet upon the earth was Ethan.
“…….”
Ethan had one foot planted on the chest of McHart, who lay sprawled on the ground, and was pressing the edge of a sword right up against the bastard's throat. Now that I'd come closer and could see the outcome of the duel for myself, there was no doubt about it — Ethan had won the final battle, conclusively.
“Ghk, aaaaagh…!!”
The reason McHart lay groaning on the floor, of course, was that both his arms had been severed — one at the elbow, one at the shoulder — and were rolling somewhere across the ground. I had asked him not to just kill the man outright, and well… Ethan had truly done exactly that, and nothing more.
With that much blood loss he wouldn't die on the spot, and in any case, this was clearly the better outcome — far better than leaving him intact and giving him the chance to counterattack.
“Atone for the sins you committed against Lilith with your death, McHart Paris Valtoria.”
“W-wait…! C-calm down! Think carefully — don't do something you'll regret for nothing!”
“And where exactly is the option I'd regret more than killing you here? Is there some reason I shouldn't kill you — the one who threatened and tormented Lilith longer than anyone I've ever met?”
“I-if you kill me, what happens to you?! If I die, you'll never be able to leave this world, you know? If you want to be trapped here forever with that woman, unable even to die, then go right ahead!”
“…….”
“That's a lie, Ethan. This world is a fake one that man created with his own unique magic. It dissolves naturally when the caster dies.”
“…Right. Thanks for letting me know, Lilith.”
…Just now, Ethan's face had lit up in a strange kind of joy at McHart's words. Surely he hadn't actually been tempted by the idea of living with me in this world forever… right?
Reassured by my words, Ethan's blade pressed a little harder against McHart's throat, and the finely honed edge nicked the skin there.
—Shhk.
“Hyaaaiiik…!!”
“And even if what you said were true and not a lie, my choice would not have changed. There's no way for you to live no matter what you say, so accept your death quietly.”
“W-wait…! Y-you do know that the price for the crime of murdering royalty is the extermination of one's line for three generations, don't you?! E-even if you are the only son of the Duke of Blackwood, you cannot possibly get away with killing me….”
“And what exactly are you saying, when you carry blood that's closer to demon than human? I wonder whether you'd still be spouting the same nonsense after it's been revealed to everyone that you're a demon.”
“H-how would you even prove that I'm a demon?! Don't tell me you expect me to confess to being one before I die?!”
“…….”
“I'll say one thing clearly. If I die, not only you, but your father and that woman beside you will all be executed for the murder of royalty. If you all want to join me on the road to the afterlife that badly, then by all means, kill me! Ahahahahaha…!!”
Whether he'd lost his mind in the face of death, or genuinely believed his life still held that much value, McHart burst out laughing with an expression of considerable confidence.
Ethan merely looked down at him with a contemptuous look on his face.
“Normally, proving you're a demon would have been impossible — you'd only accepted the demons' power, after all; the demonization itself hadn't yet taken hold.”
“That's right! The moment you behead me, you become nothing less than a royal murderer! And I will die as royalty, until my very last breath!”
“…No. You'll die as a demon. Your name, steeped in demons, will become a stain upon the imperial family — erased from the family registry and wiped from existence in every way that matters.”
“How can you be so sure of that? Don't tell me you're relying on the Hero? If he goes around telling everyone I'm a demon, will people actually believe it?!”
“Are you an idiot? What's the point of spouting nonsense even a grade-schooler wouldn't buy?”
“…Grade-schooler? What is that, some kind of monster name? Lilith…?”
“…….”
Setting aside the question of whether 'grade-schooler' counted as a species of monster, I made certain to teach McHart — who was staring at me with that confident expression — exactly what situation he was in.
“We have the Saintess's power at our disposal, so why would we resort to something absurd like that? The Mirror of Truth alone would be enough to reveal that half the blood running through your veins is demon blood.”
“Th-the Saintess's power?”
“That's right. The Saintess's power.”
“…Ha, haha…! Ahahahahaha…!!”
…Had this lunatic finally gone mad?
Hearing my words, McHart tried to clutch his head — no, he tried to, but with no hands left, all he could do was writhe the remaining stumps of his elbows around as he forced out a deranged cackle with everything he had left.
“Ah, hahaha…! So that's why…! That's why you bastards were all so confident!”
“…….”
“…….”
“To think that's the reason you went to all the trouble of putting on a laughing mask and bringing that woman to this noble exchange event in the first place! Ahahahaha…!! Khh, kghh…!”
McHart screamed at us in a voice that sounded like his breath was about to give out, then curled his lips into a twisted smile — and I had a fair idea of why he was reacting like that.
Call it royal pride, but it seemed McHart had known all along, right up to this moment: the fact that the Saintess's power had never been granted to Serista.
“That's right…. It'll happen just as you say…. With the Saintess's power, the proof that I used the demons' power will inevitably come to light….”
“…….”
“…….”
“That is… assuming the woman you brought along is a true Saintess, of course…!”
The instant McHart's final words left his mouth, the gray, black-and-white-film backdrop that had enveloped Ethan and me was stripped away, and the lavish rear garden of the detached palace — glittering brilliantly with festive lights — revealed itself once more.
Ornate lighting spilled from inside the palace and out, and the faint sound of music seemed to drift all the way here from the banquet hall.
…And there, too, were the countless exchange event participants who had gathered at some point — along with the palace's own guard.
“Kyaaaaaak!! P-Prince McHart!!”
Beginning with the scream of a noblewoman in a red dress, exclamations burst one after another from the mouths of the crowd that had assembled in the rear garden before anyone had noticed.
“Wh-what are you doing to the Prince!! P-put that sword away this instant!!”
“G-good heavens…. H-his wounds, already….”
“How can anyone be so cruel…. Prince McHart, like t-that….”
…I distinctly remember sending a signal to assemble here without drawing anyone else's attention.
For a moment the thought flickered through my mind — could I have gotten the contents of the signal wrong? — but mercifully, it seemed that wasn't why this many people had shown up.
Because standing there, smiling serenely amid this crowd and all its chaos, was a brown-haired noblewoman — 'Loose Woman Evelyn.'
'Son of a bitch. It's her doing again, isn't it.'
Most likely, she had sensed that McHart's trap was unraveling and, in a bid to save him, gathered this whole crowd and dragged them to the rear garden. Or perhaps she and McHart, sharing the demons' power, had some manner of communication between them.
Either way, I hadn't anticipated a crowd assembling like this without any prior coordination. And this one-sided spectacle they'd walked in on built a narrative that was disadvantageous to Ethan in every possible way.
To anyone watching, this scene looked like nothing more than Ethan seconds away from killing McHart in a private quarrel — not like a knight drawing his sword to execute a man steeped in demonic power.
'The optics are terrible. Can we pacify them, even for a moment?'
To be fair, the moment we showed proof that McHart was a demon, every last bit of the condemnation would evaporate. The problem was that in a situation like this, even producing that proof in the first place would be anything but easy.
Ordinary people only ever see what they want to see. In a scene where, to every eye, Ethan was clearly the aggressor and McHart the victim, invoking the Mirror of Truth carried no persuasive force at all. Worse, there were bound to be people who'd simply shut their own eyes and ears — insisting that even if we showed them evidence, it couldn't possibly be real.
If we could at least focus everyone's attention properly while McHart was in the process of transforming into a demon, we might manage it — but in circumstances like these, no one was going to seriously heed the words of some mere viscount's-daughter-turned-noblewoman.
“S-step away from the Prince at once, Lord Ethan!”
“Lord Ethan! If you do not sheathe that blade, then no matter that you are the only son of House Blackwood, you will answer for the crime of murdering royalty….”
“Your Highness, wake up! Your Highness….”
“All of you… be silent…!!!”
“…….”
“…….”
“…….”
In that rear garden turned marketplace — packed with noblewomen and young lords, the palace guard, and assorted other servants, each shouting over the rest — a single ringing voice surged over all of them.
A piercing, high tone that commanded every nerve in the crowd, worn by someone whose looks alone were more than enough to seize every gaze in attendance — that someone stepped quietly forward through the throng.
—Thud. Thud.
The moment she appeared, the uproarious garden fell silent in an instant. None of those present, after all, dared interrupt a voice carrying the bloodline she bore. …And neither did I.
Because I never in my wildest imaginings expected her to show her face at this noble exchange event.
Capturing every gaze in the yard, Seraphin strode toward the center of the rear garden, her long golden hair swaying with each step — and along with the atmosphere that shifted abruptly at her arrival, a dazed thought swept through my mind.
'What is she doing here?'